The next day after my advancement, I followed the others to training. When we arrived at the grounds, quite a few of the other Elites were there. I let the rest of my group go on ahead while I went over to speak with the Puppet Master.
Ponteck Gulliard was the largest threat. He would almost assuredly trounce most of his division; I would need to train the most to counter him. Of course, he wouldn’t be the only one. Although I had plenty of experience in the trenches, none of my enemies there had been very competent, especially not on the level of those at the Magisterium. One could argue that age and experience did more for those in the black market, but sheer power didn’t care much about experience, and that was the most pressing problem here in the Magisterium.
Warlocks had a plethora of spells that could easily turn me to paste. Whether it was suppressing me with an unceasing barrage of water or trying to cook me alive with fire, they were just as capable of killing me as knights were. It was just that knights were harder to kill in response, making them a bit more dangerous. Even then, depending on how it was looked at, the sheer variety of attacks a warlock could throw at me made a case that they might be more dangerous than knights.
The situation I was in dictated that I couldn’t kill anyone, so options that might’ve worked in the black market were limited; all of my weapons were solely designed and devoted to killing people as efficiently as possible. I would be going into a match completely at odds with my nature.
Which is why my new Crown would be playing such a large role. The only reason I couldn't easily incapacitate someone was due to my own imprecision. Shooting someone’s leg or arm would easily give me the win. The issue was, I had to be able to hit them with a small enough margin of error so as to not risk killing them as well. While a normal bullet might kill in a minute if I nicked an artery, I never had a chance to exactly examine the degree of damage a Psyka enhanced bullet might deal; all I knew was the sheer trauma caused by a hit easily downed even Scourge beasts.
My aim was good, but I wasn’t perfect. It was easy to hit unsuspecting targets, even easier with stationary ones, even at great distance. I’d had my fair share of experience with hitting moving targets in the Trenches, so that experience would be coming into play. But that was also without regard to the health and safety of the other party, because why the hell would I bother?
Now, I needed to combine my ability to adapt my aim as well as the precision that came with distance shooting. I had a feeling that time dilation would be a major factor, and that just made me appreciate my Advancement even more.
After waking in the morning and feeling my replenished Psyka reserves, I found that it had actually been multiplied by an entire 5 times. That was a massive boost in strength, especially in combination with the hard-to-quantify increased density of Psyka. Still, my increased speed of thought as well as my larger reserves meant that I would be able to utilize my coat’s abilities to a greater degree.
It really was the perfect tool to have. I couldn’t imagine the trouble I’d have to go through without it. And perhaps Maxwell knew that all too well, which was precisely why he gave it to me.
Of course, my weapons, coat, and Crown weren’t the only tools at my disposal. Aura was probably my greatest lifeline at this point. Not even my coat could beat it, although the number of times they had saved my life were probably tied.
Nonetheless, my Aura and the abilities it afforded me would form the basis of my style of combat. It would be my sole decision maker in combat scenarios.
But not only could it give me the demo version of precognition, it would also allow me to play some tricks on my enemies.
I hadn’t used the ability since there weren’t many situations where it would be effective, but the ability to disrupt the minds of others was both valuable and something I was very much capable of. I had already done it with Apocryon. There was no reason I couldn’t do it with everyone else.
Now, I would finally get to put its efficacy to the test.
Of course, some practice was in order. For that I would need to employ actual people instead of the Puppet Master’s puppets, like my friends.
But for everything else, the training grounds would be sufficient, especially since the Puppet Master apparently had a puppet that could fight similarly to Ponteck. I was sure something like that was valuable, but I couldn’t bet everything on its accuracy.
I had my training plan. I would train to mesh my shooting skills together in the scenarios the Puppet Master prepared me, and pull aside my friends to hone my Aura. It would benefit them too anyway, so it was a win win.
And so the first day of training began. Once at the training grounds, I decided to have the Puppet Master give me some warlock opponents.
His puppets weren’t limited to beastly behaviors and appearances. They could take on the form of humans and he could have them operate with decently intelligent behavior. More importantly, they could utilize a large variety of spells, giving me valuable experience against all sorts of opponents.
Without delay, I was sent into my own training area. Apparently, it was modeled exactly like the tournament arena: a large stone platform about 100 square meters large. They were actually giving us a pretty massive area to work with, which allowed me to keep my distance rather well.
There weren’t very many rules or restrictions on armor. This naturally meant that nobles could buy their way to victory with some super expensive armor, though there were some upper limits that ensured the tournament was still a tournament. As for tools or external weapons, those couldn’t be used so freely.
Surprisingly, my coat could be used without issue. That was a headache preemptively taken care of.
Besides that, things like Umara’s disposable weapons and tools couldn’t really be used. It was all up to the discretion of the judge.
Thankfully, I didn’t use any of those. The only external items I had were my medicinal things.
So I entered the arena how I would every other battle, facing off against a faceless puppet with some robes and a staff.
I could still get injured here, but it naturally wouldn’t be trying to kill me.
The puppet and I were placed on opposite sides of the arena, 100 meters away from each other.
And once the battle started, I immediately equipped one of the new weapons in my arsenal, a rather famous weapon that I had actually fired once before on Earth.
The M1 Garand.
It fired the same .30-06 cartridge as the Springfield, but was semi-automatic instead of bolt action. That made it significantly more suitable for anything that required more than one round in a short amount of time. It also carried 8 rounds and could be loaded with a single clip insertion instead of having to fumble around with multiple stripper clips.
Once the rifle appeared in my hands, I lifted it and took aim through the iron sights. Of course, in that period of time, the warlock before me erected a shield.
I immediately fired when I saw that, not bothering to further correct my aim.
The gun cracked, kicking back into my shoulder. Sure enough, the shield ate my bullet, though flickered in the process before the warlock doubled down on it.
Seeing that, I continued to fire, dumping a few more rounds into the shield while getting a feel for the new gun. Unfortunately, not even all eight moderately empowered bullets could break the shield.
Once I heard the dick-hardening ping of the empty clip, I started reloading.
With my enhanced reflexes and speed of thought, it was shockingly easy to slot in a new clip with precision and throw the bolt forward. It took all of 1.5 seconds, and that was without any actual experience doing so.
“Oh yeah, this Crown is going to pay for itself.”
I smiled and took aim again. But in the time I was reloading, the warlock had cast some spells.
Three large fireballs trembled around it, growing a bit larger before flying toward me. I dove to the side, my hood appearing over my head.
Two of the fireballs flew past me and exploded, but the third one exploded right next to me. Though I was a good bit away by then, the flames washed over my body. Everything was nullified by the coat except the force of expanding air, which pushed me a bit further than I had been expecting.
I tumbled a bit, turning my fall into a somersault before rising to one knee and taking aim.
Once centered, I fired more. Three fully empowered rounds flew out in short succession, and with the third round, the warlock’s barrier shattered.
It messed up the next spell they were casting, and in that time frame, I activated my coat and focused on my aim.
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I raised the sight a bit and found the warlock's shoulder. It was around 90 meters away and I was using iron sights. Normally, I would have found it a pretty difficult shot.
But this time, my eyes finally demonstrated their uncanny value.
My sight zoomed in through the iron sights, my target painted like it was right in front of me. The iron sights may as well have been a 20x magnification scope the way I was using them.
I was easily able to twitch my barrel in line, pulling the trigger before the warlock could recover.
An explosion ripped forth from the end of my barrel, and I watched as the bullet tore through the warlock's shoulder and ripped half its arm off.
The staff, still tightly gripped by muscles that hadn’t quite gotten the severe trauma message, dropped with the limp limb, the warlock clutching its shoulder as soon as it registered the loss of its limb.
I lowered my sights, the puppet freezing and disintegrated in front of my eyes.
“Pretty good. The match would be called as soon as you made a shot like that. You’d also piss off anyone related to that warlock for destroying his arm.”
The Puppet Master appeared, standing a few meters away from me.
I stood back up as my hood retracted.
“What else am I supposed to do? Warlocks are weak, unlike knights. Even the weakest weapon in my arsenal will tear them a new asshole.”
“I know. I wanted you to give this competition an honest shot, but I didn’t say it would be pretty. At the very least, all the participants will be offered free healing, and limbs can be reattached. You’ll become a bit more infamous, but it’ll be a necessary evil and I’ll do my best to dampen the backlash. So long as you don’t kill anyone. Then it’s out of my hands.”
“Yeah. So as long as the wounds can be healed, I should be fine?”
“Yes. And we’ll have some of the best healing warlocks available for it. Injuries are common and families don’t want their children to die in some game like this, so it’s a given there will be adequate treatment. If you can continue to do what you just did and keep it to the limbs, then you’ll make things much easier on us and yourself.”
“Well, you’ll certainly be working for it.”
I sighed a bit. A shot like that would be enough to incapacitate them, to say nothing of the pain. Of course, if they insisted on continuing despite that, then I would just give them another one. There was always another limb to convince them with.
It would require great precision on my part. Thankfully, it seemed I was more than capable of it.
“Legs are easier to hit anyways.”
“Whatever you need to do. However, that warlock right there was only an Authority 5. I’ll give you an Authority 6 now, then an Authority 7. I want you to have to fight for your well being in the event you actually have to. I’ve trained some competent warlocks, that much I can assure you of.”
“Give them to me. I want to see how my experience from the Trenches compares.”
“Tsk, still can’t believe you fought in that place…”
He muttered while vanishing, another puppet appearing on the other side of the arena.
A level above, and given how the Puppet Master wanted me to fight for my wins, none of them would be stupid.
Sure enough, once the battle started, it immediately put up a thick barrier a magnitude sturdier than the previous one.
I lifted my Garand and started firing, using fully empowered shots without inhibition in order to start whittling it down.
That was all I could do. Bullets were particularly effective against warlock barriers due to their size and penetrability. I’ve battled some warlocks where my bullet pierced their barriers without actually breaking it, meaning that the magic wasn’t without its obvious weaknesses.
After all, they were primarily meant to defend against other spells, or at the smallest, melee weapons. No matter what, they were not designed to handle the unfamiliar type of damage my bullets inflicted, which gave me a great advantage.
Still, so long as it had any reasonable amount of mana behind it, a barrier would eat bullets like candy. Nothing would get through and they would just sit there like a bunker and launch spells like a turret.
What I had to be careful about was not challenging the warlock during the time they were casting spells.
I watched as some air warped, my Psyka picking up mana formations in the atmosphere and my new eyes seeing air blades hurtling toward me.
They were fast and sharp, so right as my hood formed over my head, I utilized my speed of thought and control over my body to deftly dodge between two blades.
My body tilted backward as I stepped forward, both blades sliding past my limbs and slicing into the stone underneath, leaving gouges where they disappeared.
New spells were already being prepared by the time I had regained my footing. When I saw those formations, part of me wanted to just wait and dodge again.
But that was a deadly cycle to fall into. I wasn’t a knight and definitely not faster than those spells. If I allowed a warlock to launch spells without contest, then the only ending was defeat or death.
I needed to challenge them, no matter how token the resistance was, and I needed to do so consistently. Damaging a warlock’s barrier drained their mana, so even if the battle became one of attrition, I could still do something.
So instead of getting ready to dodge the next wave, I decided to run forward.
I sprinted as fast as my legs would carry me in a straight line toward the warlock. After another couple seconds, I had managed to cover 20 yards and got ready for the next set of air spells.
Six blades of air appeared and flew toward me, all of them closing in from the front.
In response, I shifted my momentum laterally and waited for the right time.
Right when the blades were going to collide with me, I threw my body to the side and let them all fly past me.
I rolled once and popped back up to my feet, continuing my sprint and covering another 50 yards before the next spells were coming.
But I stopped at that distance, a grenade appeared in my hand, pin already pulled.
This was the Mk. 2 hand grenade, a basic fragmentation grenade, and positively loaded with Psyka.
Right when the spells were launched at me, I tossed the grenade, the chunk of metal and explosives rolling to its feet as I dodged another set of blades. It was surprisingly easier to do at close range.
I missed the explosion as I was rolling, but popped back to my feet with my rifle shouldered, catching sight of the warlock through my iron sights.
And surprisingly, he was missing a few chunks of flesh from around its body, particularly the abdomen and legs.
The warlock collapsed before freezing and disappearing.
The Puppet Master appeared again.
“A bit overkill, though effective. Use something like that early on when the barrier has enough to resist it. Then you’ll deplete a large chunk of mana while weakening it for a short period of time. If you’re fast enough, you can break it with your gun and shoot the person behind it.”
“Good to know. Are wounds like that too much?”
“Depends. There were a few chunks of metal inside its body, and considering the damage to the organs, it would be more difficult than normal to keep them alive. Those metal chunks do incredible damage on the way in.”
“Well, that’s what they’re built for. I’ll keep it in mind. Though I’m starting to think you need to increase your medical personnel.”
“Maybe you’re right. Focus on damage control first though. I just want to make sure you make any mistakes like this here first rather than in the arena.”
“Right.”
I nodded, the next enemy being prepared as the Puppet Master left.
It was another Authority 6, but this time, it used both air and fire spells.
The two elements were used in tandem, proving particularly difficult to dodge. I found myself having to close a surprising amount of distance as the Warlock deftly darted out of my way with air at its feet. No longer was range necessarily to my advantage.
Of course, that was only to use my grenades.
Warlock barriers only had a certain amount of mana loaded into them, depending on how much the Warlock had loaded beforehand. But it would never be a majority of their mana.
This was yet another advantage I could use. Not only were barriers susceptible to penetrative power, but they also had limited fuel. This meant that an explosive amount of power hitting the barrier at a small point was the perfect recipe for breaking them down. Grenades were naturally good at that job.
Of course, I might kill the warlock in the process if I went overboard. But that’s what this training was for. I needed to find the sweet spot and gauge their power properly so I knew how powerful of a grenade I could use, and when.
Of course, grenades were only one tool among many. I had plenty of time and energy, so I tried everything I could think of.
With each battle, another weapon was brought out. Sometimes I used grenades, other times I brought out my Lewis Gun.
The Lewis Gun was currently the best machine gun in my arsenal that could be held and fired. I had found others, but those needed to be mounted and were stationary. They weren’t very fitting for my current situation.
Of course, I had also tried to look for some other particularly famous machine guns, but the one I had my eye on couldn't yet be found.
At some point I would get my hands on Hitler’s Buzzsaw, but that time wasn’t now, so I needed to make do.
The Lewis Gun I found had good handling anyway and I could fire it in bursts to maintain accuracy. I found it good for suppressing the warlock and forcing them to continue channeling mana into the barrier or risk it breaking.
I wasn’t the only one who could get caught in a deadly loop. Barriers were nice but they apparently weren’t very versatile. The warlocks could move around while using them, but that only took more mana and concentration. And it wasn’t like I couldn't simply adjust my aim, so running like a rat only helped me.
There were plenty of ways that I could suppress and beat a warlock, especially if I got the drop on them. But situations were dynamic and the Puppet Master didn’t like letting me have my way. So I was frequently put into sticky situations and my acrobatic skills were put to the test.
That training went on for hours. I took some breaks to process things and reflect, holding several discussions with the Puppet Master as well. He was controlling the puppet directly so he knew best how to correct things, given that unique perspective.
His insight had unquestionable value. I was taking everything I could get. Going into this tournament unprepared would be no different from sending myself to jail.
Of course, there was one thing that actually made battles much easier than they otherwise would be.
As proven time and time again, my coat was way too powerful to be damaged by anything at or below Authority 7, unless it was a knight trying to crush me with a blunt weapon. That was why I found knights to be so much more of a threat than warlocks: when it came down to it, only knights were really capable of hurting me. Everything else could be tanked by my coat relatively easily.
Of course, there were always exceptions. Earth magic happened to be one thing I needed to pay particular attention to. But besides that, I could rest easy knowing that basically everything thrown my way by a warlock couldn’t actually hurt me that badly. It afforded me great leeway.
And so, the first day of training ended. We decided to train more with warlocks the next day as well. So in the meantime, I just needed to rest and reflect.