Waverly almost wished she could get distracted by the greed demons, goblins, and mimics yelling their bets at each other. But as usual, once stuff really hit the fan, there was nothing that could draw her attention away. But usually, she could do something about whatever was happening, and now she couldn’t and it made her stomach clench and her ears pin themselves to her skull, and it was all she could do not to whine quietly as the battle began in earnest.
Victor, of course, immediately vanished from view. That was good! Surprise attacks were super annoying, and they had the potential to do a lot of damage. The downside was that you had to be super good at being stealthy to use them properly, but if she knew one stealthy person, it definitely was Victor. There were higher-tiered skills than [Stealth], usually some sort of class skill that evolved from the basic version, but still, having a skill at S-Rank at his age was super impressive. She doubted he’d give himself away, even from up close, which would allow him to land the first hit, and that could totally decide the fight right then and there.
But Ssseth did not seem too worried, which worried Waverly a lot.
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For some reason, the Lizardkin didn’t seem too worried about Victor dropping into [Stealth]. That wasn’t a good sign, usually. Perhaps, Victor thought, Ssseth was overly confident because this was Victor’s first fight. Or perhaps he thought he had the level advantage.
That was unlikely, as far as Victor could tell. Not at their age, at least. Unless Ssseth had a second, hidden species in his mix that he told no one about. So the lizardkin had to have some sort of ace up his sleeve.
Victor himself was surprised at how calm he felt. Sure, his heart beat a bit faster, and the hair on his arms stood on end, but that was nothing he couldn’t deal with. That was unusual. The few times he’d been in a fight before had been vicious, quick affairs that involved more hissing and scratching than planning and execution, though. So maybe that was why it felt different this time.
He sneaked closer, careful to make as little sound as possible to not give away his position. [Stealth] was an amazing skill, but it had its limitations. It didn’t suppress sound all that well, pretty much anything the system considered an action broke it, and if you got too close to an opponent, a distinct blur in the air would give you away. Victor had spent years trying out the limits of his abilities by sneaking around the house and stealing from the kitchen, mostly. Not that anything bad ever happened when he got caught. His mom was their employer, after all. On the off chance one of the staff did get angry at him, he could usually just melt away their ire by making his eyes as big as he could. No, not getting caught had been more a matter of personal pride, which he definitely attributed to his vampire side.
The same part of him that had pulled him into this fight.
Victor moved around the edges of the arena, careful not to stumble into any onlookers. They had grown as quiet as a desecrated church. Possibly out of anticipation, possibly to not give him too much of an advantage. Possibly both. Victor didn’t have time to think about it. Instead, he planned. He’d come up on the lizardkin from behind, then use his claws to score some scratches and retreat to try again. It wasn’t a super original plan, but it was all he had to work with, except for [Vampiric Hunger]. He wished he’d have some time to try out the new skill, but with it being F-rank, he knew he shouldn’t rely on it too much. Maybe he could activate it while scratching for some extra damage.
There also was his [Observation], of course. His favorite skill. As he sunk deeper and deeper into [Stealth], he almost activated it on reflex, but it would render him immobile while it was active, and he didn’t want Ssseth to land a lucky hit just by swinging at where Victor had stood when the fight started. Now that he was out of harm’s way, however, he activated the skill and felt the familiar rational calm settle over his mind.
Ssseth wasn’t particularly tall for a Lizardkin, just about a coffin in height, perhaps a few splinters over. He wore a long, flowing outfit that reminded Victor a little of priestly robes, but Ssseth’s clothes were a far more modern cut. The black contrasted well with his bright green scales and red eyes, which kept tracking Victor as he leaned this way and that to inspect the lizardkin better. A pair of slim-fit trousers hugged his waist and legs, and they sported several pockets, most of which were empty, however. One of them showed the telling bulge of a wallet, while another had a worn paperback poking out of its undone flap. Nothing that told Victor much about his strengths and weaknesses, so far.
Then, of course, there were his weapons. The lizardkin had repurposed the metal lid of a trashcan from before the digital revolution as a makeshift shield. Victor wondered where in the Hells he had found that thing, but it didn’t matter then and there. It wouldn’t do Ssseth any good when attacked from behind, anyway. More worrying was his tactical baton. The kind that clacked menacingly when you extended it. That would probably hurt to get hit by, but like all the Monsters in Hell, Victor wasn’t particularly afraid of pain. At his level, his Stamina had to be high enough to take a few hits of a Baton, even if his [Catboy] and [Vampire] classes both didn’t have great scaling on that stat.
In the end, Victor hadn’t learned anything of note, but he did feel more confident. There wasn’t anything the lizardkin could do to avoid his attacks, so Victor met Ssseth’s eyes with a confident smile and approached…
Wait.
Why were Ssseth’s eyes still tracking him?
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Waverly winced as the baton dug into Victor’s stomach and sent him flying through the air.
Oh no.
Her friend flipped in the air and softly landed on all fours atop a nearby table, just as someone yelled “Told you he had heat vision! 2 Coins on the lizard!” and then the crowd went wild.
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What was that saying about well-laid plans and contact with the enemy again?
Victor’s ribs felt like he’d just run into a lamp post, and in their dull ache, he bid his idea of making this a cool, calculated fight goodbye. With a hiss, he extended his claws and dashed forward. The Lizardkin was ready for him, of course, shield raised. Victor jumped at the last second and used his high agility to bring his feet forward into a flying kick. Ssseth blocked that, as Victor had intended, but before the Lizardkin could push him off, the Catboy used it as a springboard to flip over his opponent.
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Ssseth tried to dodge forward and away, but it was too late. Victor raked his claws over his hairless scalp, felt [Four-Footed-Feather-Fall] activate, twisted in the air, and dragged his hand all the way down Ssseth’s spine.
He didn’t even draw blood.
His ears folded to his skull and he hissed again, even as he disengaged.
When Ssseth turned to him and shrugged, it almost looked apologetic. “[Hardened Ssscales], man.”
Victor rubbed his stomach. It still hurt. “Yo, kinda unfair.”
“Kinda,” the lizardkin agreed. “Sssorry, I didn’t know my ssset was that much of a counter. We can call it a draw if you want?”
Victor’s ears twitched. That was unexpected. He scrunched his nose, ignored the two people in the audience who went “awwww” and thought about it. On the one hand, it would be clear he hadn’t earned it, and somehow, that made him grind his teeth. On the other, this offer was incredibly generous. Victor didn’t know if he’d do the same in Ssseth’s position.
Finally, there was one thought that decided the matter for Victor. If Ssseth was generous in offering a draw, the best way he could repay that kindness was to offer him a chance to win outright.
“Nah, let’s keep going,” Victor said and felt his usual smile return. “I’ll make you work for it, tho.”
Ssseth laughed and banged his baton against his shield once.
“Good thing I can’t sssweat!”
And with that, they went at it again.
Sseth opened, swinging his baton vertically, and Victor dodged to the side, but that was where the Lizardkin’s experience came in. Victor’s dodge had left him on the back foot, and Ssseth used that exact moment to slam into him with his entire scaly weight behind it.
Again, Victor flew backward, and again [Four-Footed-Feather-Fall] activated just in time for him to land in a crouch on a table, scattering a few glasses and bottles as he scrambled for balance.
Oh, nice! You keep finding new ways to apply [Four-Footed-Feather-Fall]. It’s (D)-Rank now and makes you climb better so you can fall more often.
Victor pushed the skill notification to the back of his mind. Nice to have, but really hard to use right now. Unless…
Outside the bright circle that outlined the arena, it was dark. Victor looked up at the rafters. It was even darker up there, past the flames of the chandeliers.
Ssseth followed his eyes and immediately charged over to him. The cheering crowd parted for him, but Victor was faster. In a split second, he dug his claws into a wooden beam and climbed up with a speed that surprised even him. As soon as he hit the gloom above, he activated [Stealth] and almost purred at how cozy and warm it felt up there.
When he heard Ssseth curse from below, Victor did purr.
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Waverly slammed her coin on the gambling table, making the bottles rattle. “One guilder on Victor.”
That got some attention, but she didn’t mind, because she was totally going to go through with this, no matter what.
“You sure, lass?” said a ghost to her right. “Not looking great for him, arrrr.”
“Can you stop it with the pirate thing, Jeromy? You’re not a pirate, and it’s getting old.” said a Mimic to Waverly’s left.
“Why, matey? I can still hear the call of the depths even now, asking me to sink back into their embrace to rest with me loot.”
“Jeromy, your soul template died in a pond while on the run from the cops because you stole some sheep. That makes you as much a pirate as it makes me Nordic furniture.”
“Ignore them,” said a girl goblin to her right, and put a finger on Waverly’s coin. “If you’re sure, you can bet, of course, but yeah, odds definitely aren’t in your favor, and the fight itself ain’t lookin’ better.”
Waverly just shook her head and combed a stray lock behind her ears. “Totally sure.”
It was super simple, really. Either Victor lost, and then she could not just go ‘Oh I totally believed in you’ but actually prove that she did, and how much, or he won, and then she’d get enough cash to buy herself a new laptop. That was totally a win-win scenario in her mind, plus she always wanted to gamble, but she never had the cash for it, so now was as good a time as any.
And yes, she refused to think further than that and fuck you, niggling little doubts. She wanted to do something to show that she cared, and that was what she could think of.
“It’s your baptism,” said the Goblin, and pushed the coin into the pile of wagers while making a note in her ledger.
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The crowd—silent as the dead of day just a second before—exploded into cheers as Victor dropped from the ceiling, feet first, and slammed into Ssseth’s shoulder. Victor had aimed for the head, but the Lizardkin twisted at the last second. The Catboy kicked off, sending Ssseth stumbling forward, but immediately sprung forward again the second his feet touched the ground. He extended his claws and slashed at the back of Ssseth’s knees, but did no damage yet again. In retaliation, the lizardkin kept his forward momentum, turned around, and hit Victor with a brutal backswing. Hissing, Victor tumbled over the floor once again and came to rest at the feet of the crowd.
“Come on, this is bullshit!” yelled someone from the back of the crowd. “We’re here to see a fight, not gargoyle masonry!” There were more shouts after that, some of which were clearly already counting their winnings and weren’t too happy about the interjection.
“Yeah! Give that pussy a weapon already!” yelled another, and then Jim was there, towering over the crowd at the edge of the arena.
“No slurs,” he said, and the crowd quieted down.
As Victor sprang to his feet and dusted himself off, the Minotaur eyed him. “They’re right though. Can’t draw this out too long. Still don’t want to give up?”
Victor didn’t want to lose. And as the rush of battle thrummed in his veins, startling away the drowsy resignation that protected him his whole life, he started to understand why.
In this arena, he had a chance to be more than a pretty boy to be admired.
He could be respected.
In the ring, he wasn’t the son of Countess Vanessa von Katzer.
He was just Victor, and somehow, that blank slate mattered.
He wanted to make a good first impression, true. But mostly he didn’t want to prove all the naysayers right. He knew how they would look at him if he lost. Sympathetic, comforting, but ultimately disappointed, no matter how much they’d try to hide it. He’d seen it so often before, at parties, at school, at home, and he didn’t want to see it here, where he had a chance to become someone new.
So he shook his head no.
Jim nodded. “Good lad. How about you, Ssseth?”
Ssseth chuckled with a shrug. “Not particularly, no.”
The way he said it, as if Jim had asked him if he wanted another drink, made the crowd laugh, and even Victor cracked a grin.
“Alright. Then let’s speed this up a little—Not going to make it too easy, people. Relax.” He added that last part when the waging table exploded into complaints.
“What’s your weapon of choice, Victor?” Jim asked, crossing his massive arms over his chest.
“Don’t really have one,” Victor said. “But I have been trained in the rapier, I guess?”
“Alright,” Jim said, then grinned like a kid stealing a cookie. “Give that man a Zweihänder!”
The crowd went wild and as a giant sword sailed through the air and sunk into the floorboards with a loud “Thunk!”, Victor burst out laughing. The thing was almost as big as him! He met Jim’s eyes, and after holding that calm look of amused challenge for little more than a second, he understood. Jim had just officially thrown him under the bus by giving him a weapon that was impossible to use, and absolutely impractical for his hit-and-run style of combat. It was as good as telling everyone that nobody expected him to win this fight, and that they wouldn’t fault him if he lost, either.
But as he looked at the blade, Victor’s smile faltered a little. No matter how many outs he‘d gotten, the idea of losing still felt… bad.
He ran one long claw over the handle of the blade and realized that there was one thing he wanted more than to not lose.
He wanted to win.