Logan’s second match for the second day was against another Fighter, a golden-garbed woman whose head was hidden behind a helmet. The armour was so close to that of a Knight that he assumed she was before the announcement was made.
Logan’s eyes moved from his foe to the crowd a bit as he tried to spy the PCs looking at him, but with over fifty thousand people in the crowd, it was almost impossible to pick out one.
“—versus Maira, a rank 21 Fighter. Some may know her as Golden Death”, Rebrin announced.
“Kick his ass, Golden Death!” one onlooker shouted.
“You better not lose me any coin!” A few added.
Maira drew two shortswords of steel that had their edges coated in gold, Logan stayed unarmed.
“Fight!” Bref commanded.
Logan made a minor motion of his hand to try and end the fight as he did the first, however, Maira just charged through the dust like it was nothing.
The ground under the Fighter’s feet cracked and flew up chunks of stone as she Rushed at Logan at amazing speeds. Starting the fight with a wide swing she aimed to bisect the Spellthief.
Logan bent backwards to dodge the first strike and placed one hand on the floor to push himself into a sideways spin to dodge a downward pierce from Maira as it separated the floor.
Logan’s feet slid across the sandstone floor as his eyes reflected the red light of a slash made of energy that came hurtling towards him. The slash cut apart the ground and the air, Logan’s body almost getting cut apart too before he Dimensional Jaunted behind his foe.
Placing a hand on his opponent's back he chanted, “Flame Grasp”, igniting the area ahead of him immensely.
“Look at these two go! Logan is certainly moving more than his first match!” Rebrin commentated.
Logan closed his hand into a fist as his enemy had similarly teleported away from his attack, making a good hundred-foot distance again.
“Not wanting a melee?” Logan thought to himself.
Maira stabbed her two blades in the ground, extending her hands outwards and then clasped them together.
Logan’s hair stood up as he looked to his sides, two balls of fire hurtling towards him from the air.
Kicking off the ground, Logan backflipped away from the magical onslaught.
“Things are heating up now”, Rebrin added.
“She’s not a caster, so…”, Logan calculated.
Two more balls of fire formed as they charged at Logan, however, the Spellthief countered them both with open palms that let out a simultaneous volley of Force micks, the grey orbs hitting the Flame Skystrikes and exploding in mid-air.
Maira’s head shifted upwards slightly as if to show shock, Logan eyed the opportunity and warped in front of her, grappled her helmet, and spun over her head, removing the head protection and moving it into his coat as it disappeared.
Turning around with a fury in her golden eyes, Maira’s face was met by a solid high side kick from Logan.
Stumbling back from a surprising melee of a Wizard, Maira reorientated her body as she gripped one of her shortswords behind her, her eyes going wide and darting to her left side as she noticed one was missing.
With a momentary lapse in concentration, Maira just barely dodged a piercing jab from Logan as he used her own shortsword against her, the golden edge cutting her cheek and part of her hair.
As she drew up her right blade, she found it heavy as Logan stood on it with his left leg and rolled his body forward, slamming an open palm on Maira’s face and chanting, “Flame Grasp”, igniting the lady thoroughly this time.
Logan continued his motion as he kicked his right tiptoes off the ground and smashed the back of Maira’s head into the sandstone, the fires exploding outwards and dissipating at the force of his attack.
A wide slash caused Logan to jump off of mounting Maira, dodging a retaliation from his foe.
Kicking up to her feet, Maira spun around to face Logan with her blade in an offensive stance, her neck was dripping blood onto her clothing, dyeing parts of it red. Without her helmet, Logan could see Maira’s brown hair that stopped at her shoulders fettered in a hair tie.
“A smashing offensive being shown by Logan here”, Rebrin commentated.
“He truly is a Grasp expert with those moves, not many Wizards would dare touch their foes in such a way. And such ferocity too”, Strolbem announced.
“That tremendous strength must be the culmination of training and trinkets, there’s no way a natural caster could pull it off”, Bref added.
“Hey, Logan”, Maira called out for the first time, her tone terse but somewhat formal.
“Yeah?”
“Regardless of who wins, can I ask you give back my helmet?” she asked sincerely.
Logan raised an eyebrow, “Sure thing.”
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“Thank you”, she said as she rubbed her face.
With the final words of the conversation spoken, Maira Rushed at Logan once again, a large cut erupting in the floor as she missed her mark yet again as Logan jumped to the side.
Placing the shortsword in his coat and taking out the frozen lord edge, Logan cut at Maira’s face, gashing her other cheek but deeper this time.
As Logan placed his other palm on the hilt of his blade to drive it into her neck, Maira made a lightning-fast jab into Logan’s stomach, winding him and sending a shockwave out from his back.
While Logan faltered backwards and winced in pain, Maira spun her blade around her as she twirled into another slash. Logan parried it with his dagger of ice, and again as Maira got into the groove of her Combo Slash skill.
Hues of red, yellow, and blue coated the golden edge blade, ending in purple, a trio of disastrous slashes cutting into the artefact blade in Logan’s grasp.
Having parried almost all her strikes, Logan had thought he grasped his opponent’s speed, but Maira spun around faster than ever before. A red misted strike caused Logan to worry beyond the speed, though, and he warped behind his foe again to avoid it.
The air cried out in pain as a Power Strike swathed through it, another scream was heard as Maira was shocked all over as Logan chanted, “Lightning Grasp”, Backstab text appearing to let Logan know he dealt a sizable hit to his opponent.
“Another powerful spell hit right there”, Rebrin narrated.
“It may only be a first-level spell, but its fierceness is felt from the higher tier of mastery that Logan is displaying”, Bref added.
Raising her knee, Maira stomped the ground harshly. Cracks quickly formed over the sandstone and shot up several spikes and pillars all around the Fighter.
Logan jumped away as soon as he saw the knee and dodged the area attack, but then had to bend backwards to dodge Maira’s shortsword spinning through the air in a radius around her, returning to her grasp as she turned to follow Logan.
Swiping to each side, Maira tried her best to land a blow on Logan, but the Spellthief’s speed was a bit too much to keep up with. Hitting the hilt of her blade on her bracelet, Maira had an axe form in her off-hand to dual-wield against Logan.
Logan dodged and parried the strikes, drawing up a Bowen dagger to match his opponent's number of attacks.
Maira’s axe then glowed red as she threw it at Logan, he sidestepped but then backstepped to his previous location as the axe flew through the air and back to Maira’s grasp. She did the same tactic three more times, Logan having to move more erratically to dodge the new form of attack.
As her axe flew back on the fourth time, Maira threw it to the floor and just barely missed Logan’s foot. She then punched upwards, missing Logan’s jaw but letting loose a bolt from a hidden wrist-crossbow, the bolt split in the air into twelve copies and rained down at Logan.
Logan jumped back to avoid the hail of bolts, but Maira hooked her heel on her axe to bring it up and kick it to Logan. She dug her feet deep into the ground and Rushed to the side, behind Logan, and then at his back with a flying kick.
Logan stumbled in his jump as he was going to do several steps but had to stop himself early. As the bolts came down he bent diagonally to avoid the axe, though he used a Dimensional Jaunt to warp away from the rest of the attacks in the end, apparating at the far wall.
Maira excavated her axe from the wall of the arena as the crowd cheered loud at the display of varying attacks.
“Force”, Logan chanted over and over, grey orbs of power welling in his palms from his shoulders, letting loose volleys of two at a time.
Maira charged towards Logan, jumping side to side to avoid the mick onslaught. Bringing up her axe she threw it again as it split in three, flew in three directions and hurled towards Logan.
Shooting the axe mirages from the air, Logan kicked the handle of the last as it flailed in the air and hit the stone floor with a clunk.
Maira’s form warped in and out as a gust of wind flew at Logan’s back against the stone wall, a space too small for a grandiose attack, but an attack all the same. Turning to face the teleporting foe, Logan saw another blast of air and dust as Maira double-teleported to his previous front.
Metal cut into stone as Maria dug her blade deep and swept it up high, cleaving into Logan’s arm. High-pressure blood went spraying in a circle as the arm flew up and hit the barrier protecting the audience from debris and attacks.
Logan yelled out in pain as his left arm left his possession. Maira drew her blade close to her face and took on a piercing stance, thrusting forward to continue her assault. Logan bent back again as the blade glanced his chest, cutting cloth and skin.
Grappling Maira’s wrist, Logan exploded it with dark energies as he Silentcast Necromantic 2nd Grasp, spikes and tendrils sucking up the blood to heal himself.
The crowd winced and gasped at the dismemberment and dark powers on display, others cheering on the bloody depictions.
Logan pulled down on Maira’s wrist to knock her off balance, the damage dealt to her made it easier than before. Spinning around, Logan drew another dagger from his coat and solidly landed it in the Fighter’s back, causing Maira to shudder before falling off the blade and onto the floor.
Chapter 172 - Tournament XP [https://i.postimg.cc/267pJBfY/Chapter-172-Tournament-XP.png]
The Spellthief took a few steps away in a stagger, waiting for the announcers to call his victory.
“Maira is down and out! Logan wins the match”, Rebrin narrated, sending the audience into another flourish of loud cheers and chants.
Logan put away his blade and cast Clean on his bleeding stump before wrapping it up in cloth. Storing his old limb, Logan made sure to clear up trails of him on the battlefield, before taking out Maira’s helmet and shortsword to return to her corpse. She only asked for one back, but Logan didn’t feel the need to steal anything from combatants who weren’t overly rude to him.
As Logan withdrew to his waiting room countless coins exchanged hands in the background, many in the crowd bemoaning their poor choice in combatant, while quite a few were happy with their decision.
Amalia looked at the clear gem in her hand, text scrawling over it to confirm Logan’s win and her account being credited two gold coins. There was a max of one gold bet per match, most bets doubling on a victory. She thumbed through it to accept the change, though she would receive all of her earnings at the end of the tournament when all bets were finished.
Several other faces in the crowd did the same, familiar ones to Logan as he had asked many of the homeless allies to bid on his behalf, giving them a gold coin each to do so. Even if Logan were to lose the final match and not get the prize money, he’d be making a killing in bets.
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Returning to his room, Logan pulled the severed arm from his inventory and took the part of his clothing from it. Whipping his coat and tunic off, and taking some needle and thread from his inventory, the Spellthief set to the annoying task of one-handed sewing his clothing back together.
The process was thankfully quick as a caster, as well as the clothing “wanting” to be reunited with itself. Thread flew from the needle and flowed to the missing piece, making repairs easy if a bit annoying with only one set of fingers.
Logan’s arm was another concern, but he had the hour needed for it to regrow due to his Regeneration skill. An attendant did come by to ask if Logan wanted to purchase regenerative services but he declined. Regardless, he had till tomorrow for his next match, where he’d have plenty of spell slots, rings, and MP.
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