There he is.

I heard about this guy, he’s the same guy I had seen looking at my ass while I left the magma arena earlier. 6’2, slim but pretty fit for how slim he was, and he was fast. I hadn’t gotten to see him fight, but I heard about the guy staying at the water arena who was apparently ‘shitting’ on everyone.

Curious of my competition, I came over here regularly, waiting to see him before I pressed my finger to the prick at each totem at the front of every arena. It was essentially how you signed up, you just never knew when you’d get teleported in if you stayed nearby, nor who you’d be fighting.

This first came to light after the magma arena, where I decided I was bored fighting such literal hotheaded idiots, and wanted a decent foe to show my abilities off to the Gods with. My dad was a black belt in multiple disciplines of karate, judo, and practiced pretty much every other martial art. He was ex-Special Forces, and after my mom died of cancer when I was a little girl, he was determined to make sure I could protect myself.

My mom liked to fight too, I guess. I don’t remember her much, but he told me she wasn’t a soldier, but a warrior. She came from a rough neighborhood in Illinois, and her brothers constantly tried to beat her up for being annoying. She took to my Dad when they were young, because my Dad defended her young. Fourth grade to be exact.

Someone had shoved my Mom over for asking to join in on handball, and my Dad being the hothead he was, used his brand new head kick his Sensei had taught him on a fellow child. Needless to say, he wasn’t at school for a while, but my Dad said they were practically inseparable after that. It was always weird to me, as I rarely ever even had a crush, even into adulthood. Just some lustful needs that anyone might need fulfilled from time to time. We’re all human, after all.

So, after years of training, I joined the Army. It was fun really, after initial testing and a word from my father, I got where I wanted to be relatively quickly. I was actually on an operation when this all went down and, thank god it did. The mission, and myself, had been compromised. My cover was blown by a fellow Op gone rogue for a bigger payroll. Long story short, he’s dead, but I was in a chair wrapped in heavy chains with a crowbar headed directly for my knee before everything just went white.

Shaking my memories of failure, I refocused on the fight, and asked a few nearby spectators the name of this fighter who was clearly just toying with his food at the moment. It was subtle, but his speed was there, I could see it in his foot placement. He’s leagues ahead of the other guy, who frankly looked lost out there. It was a mage, about 5’8, and clearly liked the cold, because he kept hurling ice shards at the potential perfect candidate for my glorious triumph to absolutely no avail. The other guy just kept stepping to the side, sometimes at the last moment, but with absolutely no change in urgency.

What a smug asshole.

As the fight progressed a few more seconds and everyone ignored my question, it seemed my candidate was getting bored because he started advancing. The Mage couldn’t hide his fear by this point, and it seemed as though everyone here had been watching this guy kill strangers, maybe even their friends for a while, because faces turned grim. As he got within 6 feet of the Mage, I saw him cross his legs for a moment. It was odd, he placed his rear foot in front of his lead, maintaining his bladed stance, but then he floated there for a moment. Not in air, but his pace.

The mage saw this, and immediately freaked out, letting loose an ice shard directly at the cocky swordsman’s head at the fastest speed I’d seen from him yet. There was no way this guy was going to dodge this all pretzeled up like that.

Heh, competition my a-

My train of thought stopped dead in tracks as I watched this smug, shifty, dirty blonde asshole, twist his shoulders and body just as fast as the ice shard released, rotating to his other shoulder while traveling at a slight outward U-formation, completely dodging its trajectory by a centimeter.

Finishing his rotation, he stabbed with his lead hand which was his rear hand prior and during the stupid squat-step, and jammed it into the mages shoulder blade, causing him to drop his wand he’d been using to cast.

What the fuck was that?!

The mage squirmed and hollered in pain, scrambling to get his footing. He was confused and I didn’t blame him quite frankly. It wasn’t just speed that got him, it was the lie. He looked out of place, like he miss-stepped at the worst possible time, so the Mage jumped on his chance. It was a trap, one admittedly I wanted to understand better.

The clear victor approached his victim at a regular walk now. The Mage cowered as the man lifted his arm to finish off his opponent. The Mage quickly dropped to the floor. Pitiful. He really refused to go out with some dignity. The next thing I saw almost shocked me as much as the weird footwork. The sword wielding egomaniac I had just watched embarrass this poor guy for sport was now reaching his hand out, gesturing to help the Mage up.

The other guy must’ve been just as confused as I was, because it took a moment before he apprehensively accepted his offer. He helped him up, patted his shoulder, and gestured a ’fist bump’, with a smile and a nod. This too was reciprocated, only not the smile part. It looked more like a thankfulness, and it was followed by the blade wielder gesturing his hands to the Mage and back to himself.

He proceeded to step back, then slowly he stepped outwardly with his lead leg while keeping his body facing the Mage, much like he had when he was dodging the barrage of ice shards coming at him, and froze there. He then gestured for the Mage to do the same, and copied the same hand motion the Mage had made while casting.

Is he showing him how to beat him right now?

Seeing this act of kindness felt like such a massive waste of this guy’s time. He had to have known by now why we’re here, and he doesn’t seem like much of a healer, or particularly noble in how he fought. Yet he spent the next few minutes showing the novice Mage exactly how to deal with him at range, though part of me doubted this would change the outcome had they gone at it again.

After some time, they shook hands, and the bladesman proceeded to shift over and quickly jab his skinny, curved blade downward into the Mage’s spine from behind at his neck. With that, the Mage was gone, queueing me to leave.

I had no intention of discussing anything with them, not until I decided whether or not I’d need to feign companionship in order to win, had it come to it in this tournament. There were a few more I wanted to scout, a few others were rather disappointing however, and I disposed of them accordingly.

This one I’ll be watching closely, but not until after I get a few more rounds in at the Metals Arena. This, and checking in on the potential threat looming a few battlegrounds away, back at the Magma Arena.

Day 0: Cheated

It’s been 16 fights now. 16 fights that I spent surrounded by heat that shouldn’t be physically possible given the climates surrounding the arena. Fires and magma balls launched around the arena’s exterior, beating down on me through my light armor plating I’d selected to maximize my weaker agility, making my body feel as if I’d been covered in a molten rock.

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Not even an inch separated this from the neighboring battle arena’s multicolored clouds that formed and dispersed quickly over what looked like an arena floating in the sky. Powerful winds audibly cracked and whistled whenever nearing their borders. To make matters stranger, after each fight I make a full recovery after I’d tasted victory. No matter how narrowly I’d come to death, mortal wounds and charred flesh be damned, I returned unscathed. It was exhilarating, but nothing like what I was accustomed to.

The latter half of my teenage years were spent training under my uncle, though not one by blood but through mentorship. A connoisseur of combatives knowledge, he was a man of honor like no other I’ve had the privilege to know. It was his honorable nature that also troubled me deeply, as his son was the polar opposite of him. He had no remorse for a warrior’s code of ethics, never once had he minded his actions through any other lense than that of a coward. Too afraid to lose, and completely fearless in the face of despondency from his masters, and literal father.

I never had the privilege of a father so involved in ensuring my capabilities as a man are met. In fact, I never met the guy. So to see his snot-nosed son be so disrespectful and still progressed his training all the same, and with far more ferver at that, was appalling.

“It’s not fair, Sensai. I understand he’s your blood, but I’ve devoted my life to your teachings. I’m the first one here, and the last one to be dragged off the mat. He can’t even bother showing up on time, and you live together?!”

Memories of his son ‘achieving’ his Brown Belt scattered across my mind, even when he had technically failed his evaluation test. It wasn’t that he lost his fights, it’s how he won. Eye pokes, nostril pulling, feigning injury, it was deplorable. Every time he won, his opponent shared the same scrunched up expression I maintained the last 6 years watching this apathetic narcissist flounce his way up the ranks.

“I know, Hyde. I’ve told you this before, and it pains me each time, but my son is not like you. He cannot take failures with the same grace, and has yet to see reason why honor should matter if it’s yet to prove fruitful.”

“Yet when anyone else is out of line, you remind them swiftly, with the punishment to follow suit. How is this fair?”

I’d never gotten so confrontational with him before. Honestly, I’d hardly said a word past ‘thank you’ or ‘yes’ or ‘sorry Sensei’, but I couldn’t contain it anymore. How could a man so respectable allow such a mockery continue under his care, let alone it being his own blood?

“Hyde, you know that I hold the utmost of pride in you, and how far you’ve come. But you forget, you were just like him when you first wandered in here. You insisted my son was a monster, and demanded the right to teach him some manners. Tell me, if I had treated you how you now wish for me to treat Hyde, do you believe you’d be here now?”

His words were said as if intended to comfort me, and reassure me in some way by reminding me of how stupid I was as a preteen. Of the lying, stealing, the unyielding hatred I held for the world.

It didn’t.

“Let me fight him now, then. No underhanded tricks, an honorable fight. If I win, he must retest, if he wi-“

“NO, Hyde.”

The entire room had already been silent, but now you could hear a pin drop.

“You forget yourself, this is not a debate. I’m telling you, as your Sensei, let it go.” After failing to adhere to his warnings, I was promptly punished, 200 pushups under 6 minutes for 5 sets. It was shortly after that this whole…’thing’ happened, and has served as the flame of vengeance that burned within me, far worse than my arms did after my many punishments.

I will find you, Jackson.

I knew he was here, I’d seen him, and followed him to this arena. I’d watched him perform all of his dirty tricks on the unsuspecting few. They were undeserving of this cruelty, I’m almost certain he didn’t need to cheat to win any of those fights. I knew I just had to keep winning, and I’d not only get to prove to Jackson once and for all who’s the better fighter, but I’ll have the Godly backing to prove it. Already I’d received a few notifications, each labeled with a God’s name articulating their interest in me. Finally, now I’d have my recognition. I just had to keep winning. Plus, I knew he was watching me, too.

My thoughts drifted back to the present at the sensation of suddenly no longer being surrounded by fellow challengers awaiting their next round, only to be replaced by the vast flaming arena I had grown accustomed to, and a new challenger that stood ahead of me. As I focused, I recognized the figure from watching a few other fights here, hoping to see Jackson and ensure my plans were not foiled by another contestant. I half-payed attention, as usually if it wasn’t Jackson, I’d reserve my mental energy for reaffirming my purpose, not letting anything distract me from my goal. Still, his fights were usually rather quick, so I knew I was in for a challenge. It wouldn’t be the first hard fight, but I knew I could handle it.

“Hey, what’s your name, buddy?” The man hollered in a playful tone, raising his empty hand in a cup shape to amplify his voice. We started a mere 15 feet away from one another, so why he did this was beyond me.

“Hyde, Hyde Kaldor. And yours?”

“Korbin, just Korbin.”

Interesting, maybe he too had little care for his bloodline.

“Korbin, you’ve fought well up to this point. I will warn you though, your impressive journey ends here today.”

He squinted a moment in thought, only to widen his eyes before cackling abruptly, gripping his stomach with his hand and sword hilt.

“Oh-hoho,” he chuckled, “ohh man, okay, no we’ll see.” He said before assuming a readied stance as he finished his sentence. I’ll admit, his confidence is respectable, but it’s clearly crossed into the realm of arrogance. This will be his undoing.

“Whenever you’re ready then, Hyde.”

With that, my resolve was affirmed, and I stepped into my stance. I encroached not slowly, but calculated, making sure my range wasn’t a hair past where I wanted it to go.

My weapon of choice, the Spatha, was one that carried a decorated history to the Romans, in a time where warriors were far more honorable. Its broad blade combined with exceptional length provided a perfect weapon for attacking at range, and my shield made those openings possible though parrying. Sure, some faster guys were tough to defend against as their attacks were tough to even see, but skill always outweighs pure talent. Most of these people had no clue how to use the weapons they held, and it was obvious.

I crept an inch closer, surmising this was all the distance I needed for the blade to reach deep enough into his chest to possibly end this fight before it started, when a shiny glimmer appeared to the left of my peripherals. Instinctually, I raised my shield, only to have the impact of his sword slamming my shield directly launch me head over heels sideways. Feeling the ground on my back, I rolled through, landing on my feet and standing with the momentum.

Damn, I didn’t even see him move.

This was by far the fastest attack I’d seen in my entire life, the tournament be damned. Sensei hadn’t even been capable of this speed, at least not in his old age. Not to mention the sheer force. Even if I hadn’t sheathed his attack, it shouldn’t have thrown me 4 feet in any direction. Clearly, he’d been reaping some sort of super human abilities from a God or something. Otherwise that exchange would’ve ended with my sword in his gut, not my ass to the floor.

“Hm, Scatha and Scutum? A man of culture.” He said, looking at my sword and shield. I lunged at him once more, only for him to parry by smacking the side of my blade. I tumbled at the change of direction, but quickly gathered myself.

“A keen eye, what discipline do you follow, warrior?”

His demeanor seemed to change at this comment. Where before he carried a whimsical tone about him, now replaced by a glaring look.

“Heh, the day I let just anyone discipline me.” He snickered vitriolically, clearly conveying this being his genuine opinion based on the eye contact that followed.

“We don’t have to be enemies, Korbin. I have mine, you are my opponent, nothing more.”

“‘Nothing more?!’” He fired back, followed his sword appearing once again at the corner of my vision just in time to raise my guard, before tumbling once more.

“I’m your humbling incarnate, in case you forgot about the last 10 seconds. You shouldn’t worry about your enemies so much with your daddy right in front of you. How you been, kiddo? Your mother still a raging bitch?”

You motherfucker.

He had no clue what kind of pain he just promised himself. I will not make this quick.

“COME HERE-“ I shouted, enraged by the audacity of this putrid filth. This utter stain on the name of any warrior who might’ve considered this trash as equal. He held no respect. No dignity for his fellow man. No honor. I exploded at him, activating the skill I’d received after picking my class.

Quickened Impale, a skill that allowed for my first stab to be far faster than anything I’d been able to achieve before all of this. It was like my arm had known its true purpose, that it was to serve my intent based on what must be done, not what’s typically considered possible. My very first inkling that life might just become how it was supposed to be, that I’d be a part of something better for humanity. This heathen before me, however, stood between me and that eventuality right now, but not for long.

Lunging forward, his eyes widened once more as my blade made purchase with this slimy snake’s skin-like hide. It felt too clean but, why else would his body have recoiled backwards so violently? For a moment I was disappointed. I figured based on that first attack, he’d be a tougher match. I pulled back my sword, and was about to lop this big mouthed fighter’s head clean off when a cold sensation overtook my lower stomach, and felt like it was quickly running through my garments and down my legs. I looked down, now with my own eyes wide, seeing his sword stabbed to the hilt into the center of my breast plate.

“You missed.” He muttered into my ear through a toothy grin, holding me up by his sword. By now realization struck that, not only wasn’t he wounded by my stab, it had never touched him. He pretended to get hit. He fucking lied.

“G-you..m-thonuva…”

I couldn’t muster my thoughts coherently, gagging only my own blood now, fighting for air. I couldn’t believe this.

“You know Hyde, I’ll admit, you’re pretty quick. Quicker than what I’ve dealt with so far, and I’m not really trying to sweat just yet.”

He fucking lied.

“I’m sure you understand, a win’s a win. We’re all here trying to do the same thing bud.”

He didn’t care about how he won. About any moral code or creed. He didn’t care how he conducted himself in the heat of battle. He had no honor.

“A word of advice though? Keep the ‘discipline’ and ‘warrior’ talk to a minimum, cause you really pissed me off there for a second, I’m not gonna lie.”

He was selfish.

“So, naturally, I had to end this fast, or else I would’ve gone way too hard on you. Frankly, I don’t want that. You don’t want that.”

Scheming.

Narcissistic.

Weak.

He’s just like him.

“Awww, Don’t worry champ, you’ll get ‘em next time.”

Mustering all my rage, my newfound hatred for this false-victor, this disgusting fucking rodent, I grabbed his shoulder with all the strength I had left.

“You…fffugcking…”

He ripped his sword from my chest, and before I felt myself now standing, surrounded by white walls and other people, I roared with newfound vigor.

“RAAAAAAAT!!!!!!!!!”