They might have had a gulf between them in levels, but their power went the other way. Sam’s Dao was so far beyond anything that Andrew had that it was almost absurd. Sam could tell that the man was starting to panic, and was hiding it poorly. His arms were shaking slightly, slightly enough that a normal person would not have noticed it, but Sam saw it clear as day.

The man gulped and started to pull something out of the air. As his hands moved, a sword made out of the same silvery material as the man’s armor emerged from nowhere. On second glance, it was literally his armor. The material peeled away from his body as the sword was formed. It seemed like Andrew had a finite amount of metallic substance to play around with.

“I’ll give you a better chance than you gave me, Andrew. If you surrender now, I will spare you.” Sam said, actually meaning the words. Losing to him was enough punishment for the Scourge of New York. Sam knew that the man would be torn apart by his so-called allies if he showed the slightest hint of weakness, and Sam had a sneaking suspicion that the one who jumped him first would be his closest ally, Rodney Kane.

Sam flicked out his mace, causing the other man to tremble even more. Then something changed on his countenance. It was a subtle shift, but a meaningful one nonetheless. The trembling stopped and the man gripped his sword firmly. It was like a different person was standing in front of Sam. Sam also started to steady himself. It seemed that there would be no quarter given after all.

Sam stared the other man down and shuddered slightly as he saw a strange look flash across the man’s face. For the briefest of moments, it seemed like there was someone else looking at Sam through Andrew's eyes. Andrew then frowned and said something strange.

“Curious. This meat puppet, I mean I, did not expect you to be so powerful.”

Sam frowned at the strange words, but as far as he knew, the man was slightly insane. Before he could think about it any longer, the other man surged forwards and Sam had to bring his mace up in an awkward block to prevent himself from being struck. The sword had a lot of force behind it, more than the man actually had in strength. Sam could tell that it was not an ordinary weapon and he tried to scan it, curious as to what would come up. In the brief second between a dodge and a block, he was greeted with a strange message.

Warning! This weapon does not fall under the purview of the System.

Sam frowned. What did that even mean? He thought that the System was in control of everything. Where had this man gotten something like that? Perhaps this was why Andrew was so high up on the leaderboards despite how weak he really was. He was getting help from some outside source.

The controller that was piloting Andrew’s body like a robot made of flesh scowled as it saw that Sam was starting to get suspicious. It did not know the working of the minds of the fleshy ones well. The creature that was in control of the man’s body was actually a highly sophisticated AI, one of the many in the employ of the Prophets of the Machine God. They did not usually show their presence so overtly, but in this case if they did not, the puppet would be lost.

At some point between the myriad calculations that the AI processed, it had time to laugh at how gullible Andrew Muno had been. The man had actually thought that he was a full partner with the organization. In reality, he was only a tool for the furthering of the faction’s agenda within the Multiverse. A giggle came out of the mouth of Andrew, and the AI paused for a moment, regaining control over the body. It was very possible that this process would break the man’s mind. Oh well. It wasn’t like he couldn't be useful afterwards.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Sam was starting to get unnerved with the behavior of his opponent, and the audience was beginning to whisper among themselves. Sam did not know what was going on with the other man, and he was starting to think that it was not the same man as before. In any case, he still had to defeat him.

As the man’s sword came down, Sam dodged to the side, but the sword followed him in a manner that should have been impossible unless the sword was extremely light, but somehow also possessed a lot of inertia.

As the sword came in again, Sam blocked it and carefully looked at the blade as it connected. The particles that made up the weapon contracted as they made contact with his mace, and that was what was causing the strange effect. It was not made out of metal, but some sort of semi sentient mass of organisms. It reminded Sam of nanites from science fiction, but that sounded like something that only the technology faction would have, and they were under censure from the System. No, it was highly unlikely that this man had access to that sort of resources.

Sam knocked the blow aside and counterattacked, sending his mace through a complicated series of movements designed to confuse and disorient his opponent. The strange sensation, like someone else had taken over the other man’s body, appeared again as he moved, and his opponent closed his eyes. Somehow, he was able to react to all of the strikes as if they were in slow motion, parrying them and mitigating the force behind them. Then, as the attack ceased, he grabbed onto the handle of Sam’s mace, and pulled him forwards.

Sam initially resisted, but with a sudden yank filled with inexplicable force, he was jerked forwards and onto the sword. His eyes widened, and he let out a gasp of shock. The effects of Fiery Rage started to dissipate, and he was left there, hanging off of the cold material of the sword. Something started to wriggle inside him, and he looked down to see the sword begin to split into particles. It began to tear through his body, and Sam began to fade away,his mind succumbing to a strange and sudden feeling of lethargy. He was dying, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

The energy of his Dao was becoming like a distant memory, and the gray haze of the afterlife began to beckon to him. A faint noise caused him to perk up slightly. A cry of sorrow and rage that seemed to be directed at him. But there was no Sam anymore, so how could someone be calling out for him?

“SAM!” The voice repeated, even louder. “DON'T LET THAT BASTARD WIN!” He recognized the voice. It belonged to a certain monk. What was his name, Mao? Dao? Wait, the Dao. Wasn’t that something important? Sam could not remember, but he felt an ember begin to burn within his chest as something inside him flared to life. The raw concept of his Dao began to tremble and shake as its meaning was deepened within his body. What was Righteous Anger? It was the true path to justice.

This truth resonated within his body and he took a deep breath. An orb of coruscating energies blossomed within his chest and he let out a breath as life started to flow back into his body. A feeling of strength and power began to flow within him and he opened his eyes. They were filled with pure rage.

Andrew Munro took a step back, before the AI took control again and forced the body to keep a hold of Sam. With a roar of volcanic wrath, he was slammed into the ground by the force of Sam’s unfettered aura. Every ounce of his power and will was sent into his aura, creating something akin to a gravitational field around him. Somebody who did not even have a basic Dao could not compete.

Sam took a step, and the arena seemed to rumble under his feet. Another one took him over to the prone form of his opponent. Raising his mace, with a halo of reddish light limning his form, Sam did not look like a random guy in a pair of overalls at a medieval convention, but as a demigod of wrath and vengeance. With that sight, the AI lost control completely, and the shattered mind of Andrew Munro was able to offer up one last coherent sentence before it gave up the ghost.

“I yield!”