Tanya had brought him a garment bag. Lukas had grabbed it and silently paced away into the dressing room, closed the door, and unzipped it. Inside was familiar, full-sleeved attire made of durable fabric and complete with breastplates, vambraces, and large pauldrons for his shoulders. Tassets that looked way heavier than they actually were hung from the bottom of the breastplate, protecting his thighs. The fabric was a mix of black and red — choice colors for an Ifrit-bearer — and gleamed in the light.

He also found a pair of wristbands with thin metallic lines twisting around themselves in loops. Tanya had mentioned they helped move the mana out and accelerate it, making it more potent. The bands also served as temporary storage devices, allowing him to gather mana while preparing for an attack and then deliver an all-out blow.

There was also an extra accouterment in the form of a cloak, but Lukas decided to ditch it. With his luck, he’d probably slip over it and land on his face mid-battle. As cool as it made him look, he doubted pulling off a Dr. Strange impression in this land of heathens would be worth it.

As he stood in the dressing room with his musings, he started having a few paranoid misgivings. What if the entire point of this exercise was to reveal his Outsider status in front of the Empire? Ifrits were supposedly dangerous, and the one he’d bonded to was a cut above the rest. Maybe this was just Zuken Banksi’s elaborate hoax to get him to demonstrate his powers in public and get him arrested.

Lukas quickly shook his head.

No, that would be stupid. And even if it wasn’t, he knew Tanya was on his side. Or at least, the other Tanya — Everfrost. She wanted something from him, and no matter what Zuken Banksi offered or coerced Tanya into, the Other version of her wouldn’t let things slide.

Besides, there are much easier ways to get me imprisoned if Zuken really wanted that.

Nodding to himself, he stripped down out of his current clothes.

And someone chose that exact moment to open the door and walk inside.

Tanya prowled into the room, carrying a garment bag of her own. She gave him a slow, blatant once-over, with a small smirk still on her face.

“Don’t tell me you arranged all of this just to jump on me naked,” Lukas snarked.

Tanya arched an eyebrow. “I can think of much easier ways to get that done.”

“Point,” he conceded. “So? Am I fighting you too?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, stripping down herself as she unzipped her own bag. Lukas was extremely aware of her body, and her eyes. Her expression told him that she knew exactly what effect she was having on him, and that she didn’t mind having it in the least. Lukas felt his libido kicked into overdrive, except that didn’t seem sufficient to cover the rush of purely physical hunger that suddenly hit him.

He had been in bed with her. Spent nights with her. And still, he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Down boy,” she teased. “And remember, I'm Bronze. Which means you have a long, long way before you can reach my level. Maybe if you try hard enough, you can get past the likes of Bergott. Also, try to unwind a bit. I’ve seen springs less tightly wound than you.”

Lukas looked away and tied his belt. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that for all your power, you look awfully nervous and angry and maybe a little scared. That’s downright impairing.”

“Maybe it would’ve helped if someone had informed me of what was going on beforehand.”

He didn’t need to see her face to notice her amusement. She gave a brief laugh. “Are you really telling me that you’re having performance anxiety?”

Damn. She was sharp. “No—nothing like that. Just casually wondering how everyone else actually is.”

He felt her footsteps get closer to him and then felt her meld against his skin as her breasts pushed against his back. “You’ve fought me. Several times. This… is just rabble. Plus, you have your brand new Ifrit.”

Lukas wondered how Arah would take being described as brand new. “That was then. In the Crypt, I could go all out. Here—”

“You go all out.”

Lukas paused and looked back at her.

“I’m serious,” Tanya replied, her amused expression long gone. “Zuken wasn’t joking. He really wants you to go all out. He is a noble. Nobles do not shy away. Even when he’s on the illegal side of things, he’d be flamboyant about it. Make a statement.”

“Is that what I am now? Zuken Banksi’s statement?”

“And Iylaerion’s,” Tanya added. “Zuken’s told me that I might have to fight too. Maybe even against you. Maybe privately. He wants the Adventurer’s Guild to know what he has and they don’t.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I can’t believe I’m being forced through this circus because a bunch of elites wants to compete in a dick-measuring contest.”

Tanya made a disgusted face at that. “You had to give me that image.”

“Sorry,” Lukas snorted. “But you should know that Arah is… rather temperamental. And so I. Things might get… messy.”

“Your point?”

He sighed. “Never mind. So, what do you really want to talk about?”

Tanya raised an eyebrow.

“You caught me here in the middle of getting dressed and sauntered in like that. Something tells me you wanted to talk about something private.”

Tanya took another step forward, and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips closer. A slow, sensual smile spread across her face.

“Who said anything about talking?”

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

It was a far less tightly-wound Lukas Aguilar that walked through the private corridor, down the stairs, and into the main arena. He was no stranger to being part of the roaring crowd, sitting in galleries and cheering at the players below, but this was the first time the crowds were above him. He felt their speculative eyes, their casual indifference towards the newcomer, the greedy eyes that waited for him to get maimed. He wondered just how many of them had put money on his death in the ongoing betting pool.

Knowing Zuken, he was probably running the pool himself.

Maybe I should’ve asked him if I get a share too.

Lukas felt someone walk up from behind, and he didn’t need to look back to know who it was. The constantly pulsating dissonance could only mean one person.

“See that circle?” Elena commented, pointing at the massive shape that lay across the arena. It was easily the size of a football ground. “Once you step into it, the barriers will be erected. The air inside is potent, saturated with mana to help spiritists fight at their best.”

He gave her a brief nod.

Elena walked up beside him. “The Guild will be sending spiritists one after another, and maybe some monster-tamers as well.” There was a tense smile on her face, “I’d prefer it if you don’t devour them.”

Ah. So that’s how it was. “You really don’t like me, do you?” he asked. There wasn’t much to be gained by casual conversation at this point, but it was better than listening to those dreadful speeches being broadcasted from this world’s variant of loudspeakers. Who knew sound could be amplified by using wind mana like that?

“Sheep don’t need to like wolves.”

“I’m not intending to eat you.”

“For now.”

Lukas exhaled. What was it with this girl? He wondered what she’d think of Tanya if Elena ever came to know what she was truly like under her façade of normalcy.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Be that way. Anything else I should keep in mind?”

“Yes,” Elena replied primly. “Zuken has a lot hanging upon this match. Do not disappoint him. It won’t end well for any of us.”

“What do you mean?”

Elena continued to stare at the crowds ahead. “Look at it this way, Aguilar. This match isn’t an estimation of your talents. It’s a show. Just winning isn't going to cut it here. Proving your superiority is your goal, and to do that, you need to show off.”

This again?

“You’re an Outsider. You have power, and Zuken thinks you’re a demigod even though it’s clear you don’t think of yourself as one. Whatever you do, remember this. This is the perfect setting for you to make your name heard in our world. Teach them the might of your blows. Let them learn the bite of their edge as they fall from the sky like the rain. Break their pride with their strength and prove to them, all of them, that your skills are second to none. That even the nobility that we gawk at in awe will be found wanting when compared to your splendor.”

For a passing moment, Lukas was taken aback by her words. Not just by what she said but the intensity with which she spoke them. It was something that he never expected to hear from the usually reserved character.

“Best of luck,” Elena murmured.

And with that, she turned around and walked away.

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

Elena was right.

The moment he was in the circle, Lukas felt the potency in the air. It reminded him of the borderland. The air was infused with tons of mana, of all kinds. Any decent spiritist would have a grand time throwing out their best spells, providing entertainment to the audience sitting above.

Then there was the sound — more accurately, there wasn’t. Whatever the circle did, it also cut out the noise from the crowd completely, letting his ears relax.

He took a deep breath and watched as the very first challenger stepped forward. It was a man in his twenties, with black bangs falling on either side of his face. The hairs on his head had been tied behind him in some kind of topknot. And given the colors on his wristbands, Lukas assumed he was a water-shaper of some kind.

It was poetic, really.

Fire versus water.

Lukas felt the weight of the urathril ax resting on his pauldron.

The opponent looked at him dismissively. “So, you’re the new guy Banksi’s been parading about,” he said gruffly. “They say you’ve got some minor talent, and the Guild wants an official estimate of your skill… or lack thereof.” He sneered. “I don’t really see what the big deal is. You look like you’d fall apart with a single strike.”

Lukas just watched him silently.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” The man sniffed imperiously. “Whatever, let’s just finish this.” He began powering his wristbands. “The sooner this farce ends, the sooner I can set off on an actual mission. I have much better things to do than—”

The rest of his words remained unsaid as a pulsating ball of pure motion slammed into his chest. His eyes widened comically as he was raised off the ground and flung away, and his back hit an invisible barrier at the edge of the circle before he slowly slid down to the ground like a wet rag.

The man did not move again.

Lukas blinked. Then looked up at the audience.

“…I win?”