Lurona city [southern shores of Fuminao Legacy Kingdom], local time [1794.01.11]

“That’s quite a story,” Aisha said, scratching her cheek. “Truth be told, I am not sure if I am in a position to give you any advice…”

Makani sighed. “Just take care of presenting the information about the Adeptus. I really don’t want to get involved in the fallout… You have Ciriyal, maybe use her as an intermediary?”

“Not the worst idea,” she nodded, looking back at them. “I will see what can be done about that. But before that, I think Zeph should visit the Library.”

Zeph perked up, turning his head away from the carriage’s widow. “She got a response?” He asked with hope. The leaflets he presented to the Library Goddes have been circulating for almost a month now.

“I’m not comfortable speaking about that in here. But besides that, Onji Togana should be able to suggest some solutions or, at least, direct you to necessary books about… well, this whole mess,” she said, waving her hand at them and leaning back in her seat. “Seriously, the situations that—seemingly—your very existence is stirring up are starting to outgrow my ability to help.” She sent him a look full of disgust.

Zeph shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just my charm.”

She glared at him for a moment before turning her head to the widow herself. “You were trading a lot of text with the Library in the past. I hope you left something valuable for emergencies?”

“Well, yeah,” he confirmed while grimacing. “I didn’t have much time lately, so… Let's just say that I didn’t exchange much, yet.”

I really need a holiday, he decided. A few months of just reading books and Skills would help me in more than one way…

“Good,” she nodded. “Now, all this was fascinating and all, but…” she turned to the trio still working on the other end of the table – a bit too close to them for Zeph’s comfort. No matter how big Ghrughah’s carriage was, hosting seven people alongside the giant himself was a bit too much. It wasn’t cramped per se – especially because the owner himself was standing at the end of the thin table to allow the others to take a seat on the sofas surrounding it – but they had only so much space to share.

Ghrughah, Pavail, and P’pfel were still inspecting, dissecting, and trying to preserve the valuable parts of the bodies that Zeph and Makani brought back.

There were only four rare specimens they had found, and three were small enough to bring back in one piece – a lizard, a really huge ant, and a small bird. But they had to strip the fox-like animal from the, presumably, most valuable parts. The meat was disposed of, but skin, bones, claws, and brain, alongside a few suspicious organs, were preserved to the best of their ability. Same as with all other bodies.

Which, for the most part, boiled down to Zeph freezing everything into a solid with his coolant and Makani keeping the bundle in that state as they traveled.

“Are you finished yet?” she asked with distaste. The proceedings caused quite a bit of grime to accumulate on the other side of the small table. “We need to inform them and strategize, if you forgot.”

“Five more minutes,” P’pfel said absentmindedly, testing another mixture for any reactions with the body parts.

“We still have five hours before the first match,” the last of the passengers said in a calm voice. If Zeph’s memory wasn’t wrong, it was Arhen – one of Kwan’s old companions. He remembered him from back in the North Tarak. It seemed that he was promoted at last. “And it shouldn’t take longer than an hour to explain everything.”

“Thank you for your insightful comment, dear,” Aisha said, waving him off, “but I would rather start early, before our Manacasters start to bury us in questions.”

“What’s with Kwan anyway?” Makani asked, right on cue. “Shouldn’t she be here, too?”

Aisha covered her face with her palm. “She has more important matters to attend to. Definitely more important than bringing you two up to date,” she said, using some archaic saying.

“Oh, that reminded me. Where is Maslin and Tasmine?” Zeph asked, playing along. “Shouldn’t they be a part of the Tournament?”

“You guys…” Aisha’s hand slowly left her face and formed a fist. A slightly shaking fist. “Ghrughah!” she shouted, turning to the trio working on the Vulpine’s skin once again. “Care to interfere before I start to use my weapon in your carriage?!”

“Why so violent?” the giant rumbled, looking up. He was still in his own armor. A Power Armor, if Zeph was to give it a moniker. Streamlined it could be, but small it wasn’t in any measure. “The twins aren’t going to take part in the Duels. If their family catches a whiff of their involvement, our situation can become quite perilous.”

“They weren’t directly connected to the Guild when the Duel challenge happened. Not to mention, it’s already a miracle that I was allowed to participate,” Makani said indifferently. “And that’s only because of the direct Duel proclamations going in my direction. Because, you know, I was made the department Head?”

“So what? Are we fighting with only six people?” he asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” Aisha said, venting out… quite literally. The temperature inside the carriage was quickly going from mildly unpleasant to unbearably hot. “Our fighters were chosen long before you took your trek outside the city.”

“We have 34 warriors prepared for the Duels,” Arhen informed them. “18 matches for the Heads and 68 for our champions, for 86 matches in total. Our combatants will fight two Duels each. Thankfully, their matches will be separated by at least one day of recuperation. Overall, we should finish in four days – 23 matches on the first day, and 21 matches in the next three.”

Aisha groaned in dissatisfaction while P’pfel started speaking. “All of the Heads have three matches to conquer. But the Tournament”—his voice leaking no small amount of disgust—“will last only as long as it’s necessary. The main claim of the Landlords has to be dealt with first and foremost. After all, if Kwan’s right to the title of Lesser Landlord is overturned, there will be no reason to continue most of the Duels in the first place. The city officials adapted that form for all of the three opposing groups, though. That’s why we, the Heads, will fight first each day. And the first day…” He spat to the side.

“Today,” Arhen took over smoothly, sending the Gremling a stern look, “will be the only one with such high stakes. All combatants should be in their prime strength. Most claims depend on the outcomes. We only need to achieve a tie in the Duels between the Leaders to keep the land, but every defeat translates to more territorial claims in the coming days. The city made the claim/duel system dynamic for the purpose of the Tournament.”

“Seriously?” Zeph asked with wide eyes. “They just need to win a few fights to support their pretenses? Aren’t we the ones defending?”

“Yes. We were outplayed. The Tournament is rigged against us,” Arhen helpfully informed. “The bureau is neutral, but the terms of the fights were re-evaluated by the Council because the Landlords were pressing them. There was almost no push-back, too; we aren’t rooted deeply enough in the city’s political scene.”

As he paused and started massaging his elbow nervously, looking at his documents, Aisha took over.

“It’s not all bad. They are just playing high-stakes. True – as it is, the culmination of the Tournament will happen at the very beginning—”

“—Cutting our income from the bets and tickets.” Arhen accidentally interrupted in a small voice.

Aisha threw him a death glare for cutting her off, which actually made the man shrink down in fear.

“As I was saying,” she said flatly, turning to Zeph and Makani, “if we deliver and win all of our fights, Kwan will have the door open for the full Landlordship, not only the Lesser one. Also, our neighbors would effectively fall under our Guild influence. Directly.”

“How is that helpful?” he asked indignantly, snapping his head to glare at her. “One defeat and it’s all done! That’s not ‘high-stakes’! It’s madness,” he said tapping the desk with his armored finger to emphasize his words.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Did you forget what we were building?” Ghrughah asked suddenly. “In the worst case, we relocate.” He turned his head to him, the two black visors drilling a hole in his Soul. “Your idea was correct. The core facility is finished. The twins also delivered. The tests were done. All positive.”

Zeph had to stop himself from gaping. What Ghrughah said changed everything.

It meant that the core of their base was now movable and that they had the means to move it at hand. It meant that it could be lifted and flown away, at least according to their calculations and tests.

It happened much faster than he predicted… Hell, it was much faster than any of them could have predicted.

If that’s the case, though… Zeph looked down. The results of the Duels aren’t that important anymore. We can just abandon the ship if the rats become too much. Playing this risqué game of politics may have some merit.

Zeph relaxed, not fully understanding why this newfound freedom had this much influence over him.

As much as he wanted to stay in the city, some part of his mind was warning him of the dangers associated with settling down. He also cared about their small group and, for some reason, their ability to leave at any moment gave him a sense of security.

Well, it would probably take more than half of a day to leave the city premises, but still…

On the other hand, he could now ignore the political landscape. Not fully, but to an extent not possible before. That alone was enough to raise his mood.

“Why so fast?” he asked intelligently.

“Our predictions about the structure were wrong. The uplift is self-stabilizing and the twins explained that to us in no uncertain terms. Our model, as you call it, was wrong the whole time,” P’pfel said, finishing his work by sealing the last bottle containing the samples.

“Why am I the last one to learn about this?” Makani, the Head of the Aeroplanning and Ingeniators department, asked suddenly. He was still confused but knew what they were talking about.

“Because you,” Ghrughah grunted, “my dear Head, didn’t read a word from my reports.”

Aisha started giggling while Makani’s face scrunched like an old lemon.

The table was cleaned up and the tools shoved away by Pavail and P’pfel as people waited for the crafters to finish; the atmosphere more relaxed now.

“Our opponents are somewhat limited today, too,” Arhen said after some time, ignoring the noise of metal and glass being rudely moved away. “They are all in your exact specializations, and most probably will try to test your and our champions’ capabilities for future matches. As well as to confirm our fighting styles. Except for La-Zora and La-Einar, that is. It is advisable to finish the Duel fast, if at all possible.”

He looked sharply at them, then turned to Aisha. “Your opponent is known for their endurance. They will try to tire you out, probably using high-tier enchantments that can produce long-lasting effects on the body.”

She nodded. “I already know that. You better inform him,” she answered absentmindedly, pointing at Zeph.

The man didn’t even flinch at that. It seemed that he was just checking if she read the reports.

“As for you, La-Einar, the enemy and the bureau were confused enough about your specialization—or lack of thereof—that they decided to present a high-spec physical warrior. Then, the next fight—”

“Wait, wait,” Zeph said, waving his hands. “I know what a ‘high-spec’ means, but I need more information as to what they are capable of.”

“That’s the point,” Aisha said with a sigh. “Just as they don’t know what your specialization is, they are presenting an opponent with the same designation, even if that would make him quite weak overall.”

“Exactly,” Arhen confirmed. “We know nothing besides the fact that he is using gear of a quality similar to yours. You can expect Tier 2 enchantments and all that, but we don’t know what he can do. Anyway,” he turned back to his notes, “tomorrow, you will be fighting with the merchant group’s Spellwielder. He is better at analysis than combat, so used specifically to prepare for the third match the day after. The industrial group put a lot of effort into winning the fight with you, as the production methods of plastic and the cure for Hydrargyrum-sickness are on the line.”

Zeph’s brows rose. “I am not the one who developed them, though?”

“You are an official inventor, even if you are exempted from monetary rights,” P’pfel said, crossing his arms. “It’s better this way, too. You need to have something… more tangible to your name. Those two are about perfect,” he finished, indicating that his real inventions were better left confidential.

“What about the village? The… Barringstone, right?” Zeph asked instead.

P’pfel shrugged. “We aren’t authorized to know what exactly happened there. But I, as the developer of the cure, was at least informed about the results of live tests. Wherever they were taken. The medicament and procedure have a 98% success rate. Hydrargyrum was added to the list of hazardous substances for living organisms of the lowest levels. We will have to wait for the information to propagate to take any credit for it, though.”

So there will be some reward! Zeph thought with relief. After such a long time, he was starting to believe that he wouldn’t receive anything for his efforts. “Good, good,” he nodded, then turned to the still-waiting Arhen. “Let’s continue.”

The man nodded. “We strongly recommend going physical on your first opponent, if possible. By the way, you and La-Zora are the only ones with pre-submitted opponents in the second round. La-Zora because of her infamy. You because of the lack of information. The rest will be matched as we proceed.”

Zeph had to massage his eyes. This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. “Do you mean to say that we weren’t even able to choose the opponents going against our opposing Leaders?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Aisha said with more vigor than normally. “It’s an old and justified tradition. Quite interesting, too. It would be nice to meet some true opposition,” she mused.

“Yes, yes… Let’s just hope the escape routes won’t be blocked,” he said sarcastically. “But why are we at a disadvantage this much?”

“Because,” Pavail started with a smile, “We are the ones who started it by challenging them to the Duels!”

Zeph cursed this ‘warrior society’ in his mind, absolutely repulsed by the situation he found himself in.

For the gods’ sake! Stop being so traditional if you fight a political war!

~~~

The stadium was a marvel.

Not only was it built inside a deep recess in the land to allow an amazing view from the surrounding buildings, but it was also more futuristic than even the System’s Shrine while true to the ornamental display of the ancient civilizations on Earth.

The giant pit, as seen from their highway, was defined by slick walls climbing from the very bottom to the height of the first aboveground floor. The ‘roof’ was formed from a translucent barrier, similar to the Mana constructs on the aerostat’s side sails. On the flat bottom, he could spot some small greenery occasionally dotted with big, probably granite rocks and small ponds.

There was enough space for an aerial battle. There were enough obstacles to hide behind, enough water to dive, and enough shrubbery to cover the traps, Spells, and long-range Skills that any person could use.

The futuristic feeling came from the thin belt of low buildings surrounding the pit. They were made entirely from blood-red, gold, and white metals; covered in pipes of similar colors that were wandering all around instead of finding the closest way to their destinations. Their wild paths formed an artistic relief sculpture spamming the whole complex, portraying weapons, fighters, and mythical creatures when looking from above. But that wasn’t even the start of what was to come.

It should be called a ‘structural relief’, Zeph thought, as he started to understand what he was seeing.

As their carriage moved, and maybe even as the sun was shifting, the three-dimensional elements and their shadows were changing their relative positions, forming new images.

The images one saw depended on their position and the daylight. It was like looking at a piece of shadow art mixed with lenticular printing. All of that made from metal parts, far in the distance.

As they finally came close to the complex, Zeph could see that most surfaces were molded to flood the visiting guests with even more intricate art. The basic formations—recognizable only from up close—of floral, fractal, and even more abstract adornments formed big pictures and texts when perceived from a distance. They were showing and naming old champions and worthy visitors in an ever-changing kaleidoscope of shapes.

Sometimes, in his peripheral vision, Zeph saw the heads of giant monsters. Sometimes, scurrying shapes surrounded them as the landscape shifted behind the windows. From time to time, whole sections of the landscape changed into an image of a giant monster, covering their carriage in ‘their’ shadow.

This place was giving him cold shivers. But he found something more to his liking.

If he looked long enough at a mural, he could notice miniature relief sections telling a story. Their wagon was moving too fast for him to take in even a part of them, though.

Personally, he found this place much more disturbing than even the Blackwind Tower – his former number one anxiety-building…. building.

This place was quite claustrophobic because of all the art and shapes. There was no greenery and, outside of the road, there was no free space to walk around – just metal pipes, walls, posts, and other elements of this grand art masterpiece. All of that rose from the metallic ground.

He couldn’t imagine anyone, besides the creators, feeling comfortable in this environment.

That didn’t change until their small caravan entered one of the buildings. The inside looked more like a hangar-made-garden. The black, fertile soil made the floor – visible on the packed earth of the avenues surrounded by the diverse vegetation. The plants near the roads were low enough to see at distances, but high trees blocked their view from reaching the back wall of the building.

As much as the exterior seemed barren, sterile, controlled, and watched, the interior was wild, slightly untamed, and filled with people.

One of the workers joined them to lead the way. Dozens of strangers used the wild garden to relax. Zeph could only guess that they were waiting for another match. Or maybe they were camping here – he couldn’t be sure what was the temperature here without stepping outside the carriage.

As they stopped in the designated zone—or rather, a campsite—Zeph could feel a slight tingle behind his eyes. The sensation was so familiar that it made him flinch. After the torture of the first contact with Mana of this world, that very sensation lingered just behind his eyes. He still remembered it as if it happened yesterday.

Not a moment after the sensation stopped, Zeph saw a strange notification.

Welcome to the arena, stranger.

You have a Duel reserved, be ready in 2 hours and 14 minutes.

Have a bloody day!