The Tournament continued; my greatest fear averted.

The Boys were safe from the shit-mage.

Truly a moment worth celebration. The rest of the tournament was a blur, I continued to one shot the remaining two matches I fought. The Mage’s next opponent was killed, after being invigorated by Johnson’s performance.

He managed to deflect the first icicle, but It instantly turned into the mist, disabling his weapon. The mage then dashed forward with his ice sword. Vision covered by the mist, he didn’t even see the blow as the sword descended upon the young man’s skull, ending all ambitions contained within.

The final match came to nobody’s surprise.

Me and the mage were called upon at last. Johnson gave me a good luck sign as I took an ear to the crowd’s chattering. There would be no point to this fight, but they would still get their hopes up. What did they want to see, I wondered?

Death? Or the Birth of A Legend?

I could show them both.

“This will be a good fight. Finally.”

“Who has the advantage?”

“The mage, of course, but this guy with the tail is so strong and quick, I could see him landing serious blows.”

“Who wants to bet?”

“I’ve got 100 on the mage.”

“Booo, mage. 200 On the Tailed Warrior.” This was Barbos.

I looked at my opponent. Where others saw a cold, unreachable mountain. I saw the frailty of man, under a façade by ice. I had the urge to ask him a question.

“Why bother with a guild?”

No answer. We stood there for a moment and In that silence, I saw the visage of a child, who never learned how to change.

“Begin!”

As usual, the mage’s fights began with casts of ice. He hoped to end every fight instantly, he hoped to have everyone face a miserable defeat. A being who took the pain of the past and pushed it onto others.

I stood there, extremely relaxed. The only beings to make me feel a threat so far were always beasts. This mage was truly the equivalent of a toddler throwing snowballs at a statue. How many iron beasts have I eaten? My defense was now my greatest strength, along with the adaptive strength of my limbs.

The icicle hit my chest and broke into pieces, no damage done. Of course, next came the mist. I was simply curious, and stuck a finger into it. It made my finger pretty damn cold, but that was it. Not enough to freeze.

There was no point in this fight.

“These humans, I can’t help but pity their existence.” The Lord of Stars made an idle comment.

I strode forward, through the mist. Slowly walking toward the child across from me.

The mage saw the image of a Metallic red warrior overlapped with the image of her.

----------------------------------------

He went to challenge that female light mage. He was still just a child, and while he put on a distant and aloof disposition, the kid was still human.

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He was lonely.

From Birth, greatness had isolated him from the world, and he never once made a single connection, a single friend.

Deep down, he was hoping this would change. In his mind, he secretly hoped to impress the female mage, engaging in a close battle. They would become friends later, and maybe even lovers. His heart thumped with excitement. Although his expression was distant, he was full of hope.

He was still just a kid.

So why did she attack so cruelly? So viciously? So uncaring? Those strikes left permanent scars; and he would always think himself grotesque thereafter. He would never be willing to undress in front of others. Not even the Greatest technology on earth could help, these were scars made of pure light, made of magic or qi. Primal energy. The methods of this world could not fix him.

He remembered the indifferent expression on her face when she walked off, as he wailed like an infant. Branded eternally in lightning, the pain was far, far too much for the young boy.

If he was not powerful, he was just a cold and unlikable child. If he was not strong, he was worthless.

As he wailed in pain, not a soul would help him. He sat there crying, and crying, until his tears turned to ice.

Monsters. All of them. Nobody on this earth would lend him a hand in his time of need.

----------------------------------------

The mage seemed to suddenly burst forth in strength, He slashed his ice blade, which I dodged and swiped with my tail, smashing it. I punched him straight in the chest, The ice armor on him cracking, almost appearing as if his skin was broken glass.

An Ice storm brewed from his core. Mist twirling around him, little bits of sharp hail turning. His Ice armor grew visibly stronger, and he took the appearance of a Knight in Ice. His sword larger, and colder than before. He spoke for the first time.

“You want to know why I joined a guild? To crush people like you!”

The Knight of ice strode forward, mist and pellets of ice attacking, A large sword of ice sweeping toward me.

I jumped in the air, quickly striking him with my tail in a spear strike. He stumbled backwards as Red metal wings akin to a hawk’s sprouted from my back, a flap of them dispersing the storm around. In the sky, I used the heaviness of metal and a backward flap of my wings to smash down on him like an anvil, my legs extended as a weapon.

It completely smashed his armor, his sword falling far off the arena and melting, the storm now dispersed. He shot through the air, twirling in spectacular fashion before landing in a broken mess. I quickly stood before the bloodied mage on the ground, his robes were torn apart, and revealed many cruel scars on his body. The Crowd began cheering.

“Admit defeat.” I simply stated.

He did not say anything, merely struggling to get back to his feet. A tail swipe knocked him down again,

“Admit defeat.” I raised my hand, forming a large and long blade from my fingers.

He looked at me, a grimace on his face.

“Monsters, all of you….” He spoke in a soft scratchy voice, clearly not used to being used. “I would rather die.” He looked me straight in the eye, and closed them. “Go on, take my life. I am sick of this.” The last words spoken in a barely audible whisper.

I stood there for a moment.

“This mage had killed three others, and almost killed your friend. He clearly is in pain, and his death is not only deserved, but would be doing him a service.” The Lord of stars gave his opinion.

It was true, this was not only a deserved fate, but a fate he wanted. Perhaps a part of the reason he wanted to join the guild in the first place, was to die a warrior's death.

With these thoughts in my mind, I swept my hand down, ending the mage’s life.

......

… or so I should’ve. And maybe most would. I’m not sure what it was, but the blood in my veins made me weak.

My hand landed on the poor kids' head. I gave him a few pats. I pretended to know what I was talking about as I spoke.

“Loneliness, fear, adversity, we all face them. The mark of a true warrior is to take it all in stride, learning, and growing along the way.”

He looked at me, eyes softening.

I suddenly grabbed him by the head, pulled him up, and patted him on the back. “So be a Warrior! Move beyond the past, already. It is time to grow.”

“And maybe stop using the same two or three attacks.” I laughed.

The mage looked at me, for a solid moment, and wept. Without warning, right then and there, out of nowhere, to the surprise of everyone, he wept, even going to the extent to hug my legs as he did so.

He did not say, but the reason he joined the guild was for this. A shot at redemption, that he may encounter someone or something that changed his worldview. That would give him a spark of hope.

He had, at last.

From that day onward, the mage had met a fourth type of person.

The type that would make him stronger.

The crowd began to slowly cheer, with many tearing up at the sight of such unreserved wailing.

“Ahhh,” sighed the lord of stars. “Truly a feeble lot.”