"Tristan, what the fuck?" Dad asked.
We watched dumbly as Terese was showered with praise that she accepted imperiously.
"Are you that surprised?" Asked the minotaur whose name I'd forgotten. "A grandmaster of any Gift is going to be at least that impressive."
The announcer finished his congratulations and signed the crowd to quiet.
"Up next we have a special treat folks!" He twirled his hand and Dad and the living smoke popped up in the sand. "In this corner, one of the rarest Outsiders, typically greed personified, but here today for his family! William MacLennan Senior the Auric!"
The looks seemed to be mostly confused in the mortals and younger Changed, but most of the Outsiders and older folks looked intrigued.
"And in this side is a recurring character in the games, a wind elemental and familiar of the Duke himself! The Fade!"
"Fighters, neither of you are traditionally gifted, is there anything you need to prepare?"
"I'd like my son to make me a better outfit," Dad replied.
The crowd chuckled as me and Will rolled our eyes. I teleported to Dad and asked him if he had any requests.
"I'd prefer gold, if you don't mind."
Suppressing a cringe, I changed his outfit. Black gold wingtip loafers, rose gold slacks, a white gold button up with a moon gold tie and a rose gold vest. I finished it all up by inscribing durability runes in moon gold all over his prosthetics, just because I could.
The announcer shoved me back in the dugout and continued.
"Are you ready?" He asked, after getting a nod and a bob, he raised his hand in the air. "Go!"
The Fade immediately started shifting and growing like a tornado, while Dad simply stood with his hands in his pockets.
"Does he have any chance?" Will asked.
"Well he's an Outsider technically, so he should have some innate magic. Have you seen him do anything… magical?"
Will didn't answer. The Fade was now a massive roaring twister growing very close to Dad. Right before they touched, Dad cleared his throat.
"I refuse to battle a coward I cannot touch."
Every word thrummed with power, like the world didn't just agree with Dad, it insisted.
The Fade continued to blow around Dad, but the hundred-mile-an-hour winds barely moved his golden beard.
Wind condensed the bone dust into white clumps that quickly flew at Dad like hail, pinging off the gold.
"Are you quite finished?"
Bits of gold flake started to flutter through The Fade after Dad had been submerged long enough. The sand around his feet started to sparkle as well. The Fade howled louder, kicking up so much dust we could barely see, but my father's voice rang clear through it all.
"Very well, I warned you. HEAVY is the head that wears the-"
CROWN
---
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
"Pride magic?" I asked.
"Yup" Dad replied, "I get stronger the more I'm disrespected."
"But you're like the most humble guy I know." Will pointed out
"I do have to kinda milk it at first."
The fighters were digging into the food that was laid out earlier while the announcer and some of his pals fixed the crater Dad left. I have to admit that's one hell of a trump card, if your opponent falls for it.
Dad was, of course, disqualified. The Fade died pretty spectacularly though.
"A lot of quick fights out here folks but the next two are sure to be a fun watch! Please welcome on one end, Hestia! A real live wendigo!"
We appeared in the arena opposite each other, with me barely finishing the roll I had been eating. Hestia was a good foot taller than me, almost three if you count the antlers. Thick indigo fur covered her from head to hooves. Sharp teeth lined her wolf-like mouth, and delicate claws adorned every finger.
"That right my wonderful audience, an unbeatable agent of Fate versus the nicest genie I've ever heard of: the former mortal, Tristan MacLennan!"
"Ready?" He asked us.
I conjured a Remington 870 loaded with heavy shells and nodded, wiping my mouth off. Hestia simply crouched low and grinned.
"Go!"
Quicker than I could blink, the smiling wendigo blurred forward and narrowly missed my head as I ducked on instinct. She followed up with a punch that shattered my gut like brittle ice and sent me flying into the arena wall some few hundred feet away.
I twitched my head to the side, barely dodging the follow up kick by an inch. I fired the shotgun twice into her abdomen before she jumped back.
She stared down at her wounds with a completely dumbfounded expression, eyes wide with shock.
I took the chance to repair my shattered core and stood up, leveling the Remington.
"How did you hit me?" Hestia asked.
"Are you sure talking's a good idea right now?" I gestured with the shotgun at her wounds that were leaking silvery blood.
She flickered and shifted like an old fashioned piece of film and was suddenly healed. She was also a foot shorter, but with much larger antlers like a moose.
She shook her head and leaped at me again. I got hit more often than not, but I was very surprised at just how fast this body could move when I needed it to. Hestia was just that much faster.
I was able to land four more shots with the pump action before deciding to switch it up, I needed a smaller and faster weapon.
In less than a second I dismissed the Remington and summoned one of the other beloved classics: the Heckler and Koch MP5. Firing a sexy 900 rounds a minute using propellant gasses to recharge the next round, an old reliable if there ever was one.
I filled it full of fantasy explosive rounds and squeezed the trigger.
Hestia, even moving as fast as she could, still took several rounds to her center mass and limbs. Every time the damage got high enough, she simply flickered and shapeshifted into a slightly different version of herself. Every time she damaged me too much, I could repair myself as well.
The crowd loved the fight at first, but as the minutes started to stretch on, they seemed to grumble.
I tried every ammo and weapon type I could think of, at one point firing mini-nukes out of a small mechanical catapult. Nothing stuck.
Hestia grew more angry as the fight kept going and she ran into a similar problem. If the world was fair, she would have easily killed me many times over, but I could keep going as long as I had the presence of mind to fix myself up.
"Where is your Fate?!" She yelled at me.
"What… the hell… does that mean?" I responded between attacks.
"Graahhh!!"
"Ok I guess we're done talking."
After a while of getting my ass kicked I settled into a comfortable pattern, easily tying with the beautiful wendigo. So I surveyed the crowd.
Mostly it was filled with vampires and what I could only assume were Gifted, considering that they looked pretty normal most of the time. The Outsiders seemed to be split between obvious Fae people like the announcer, and other random things I couldn't name.
My eye finally caught Samson in one of the lower stands and I was surprised enough to receive a free jaw-shattering haymaker for my trouble.
Crouched behind Sam was a lanky woman with wavy red hair like mine and bright green eyes. She whispered into Sam's ear while holding a knife to his throat. He didn't move much and seemed like he was just glaring, but when she held up what looked like a small photograph he paled.
He caught my eye and mouthed "I'm sorry."
"I donate my last wish to this woman, may she be your Master."
"As you wish."
"What?" Both the announcer and Hestia said at the same time.
My soul lurched and flew into my vessel as the woman hung it around her neck with a smile, snapping her fingers and teleporting us far away.