“Banana!”
Esther’s laughter rang into the lobby of the mayor’s home, joining the rage-filled roar of Goreth. The entire group rushed forward in the wake of the Minotaur, with Salem and Hel’va trailing in the back, and even though Frank pumped his legs as hard as he could, his enraged accomplice left him in the dust. He channeled mana into the sickle and by the time a charge of paralytic venom was ready in [Viper’s Fang], the hammer was swinging down on the guard who had been provoking them.
The guard’s look of surprise disappeared, quickly replaced by a determined rictus. He stepped forward in a flash, his shield going up in a fluid and practiced motion to meet the hammer.
He seemed competent. And that made Frank’s stomach twist.
The hammer impacted the guard’s round shield with a gong that punched at Frank’s eardrums and made the dust dislodge out of the ceiling in small plumes of dirt.
Frank slowed down and grimaced, and from the corner of his eyes he could see the smirking guard’s lips move. It took a couple of seconds for the ringing to fade, at which point he heard the tail-end of what the man was saying
“--under arrest.”
The other three guards had their batons out and stepped back, while the front guard heaved forward, shoving the Minotaur back and sent him skidding.
Frank’s mouth hung open, trying to compute how someone as small as the guard could shove the eight-foot tall Minotaur. Magic is terrifying, but hopefully Goreth and Wilbur can still match him. Then he glanced around and noticed someone missing.
Where’s the majordomo?
The guard in the lead straightened back up, and Frank tried to find the butler before he had to focus back on the fight. Goreth roared again and swung. The guard saw the attack coming and barely moved his arm to deflect the wide attack. Then his smirk turned into a grimace when a flash of silver-blond hair appeared next to him.
The hammer came down with a quieter ring than earlier, but it was still loud. The guard crumpled under the impact, his leg unable to handle the impact while his colleagues swung on Esther, but she was already gone. Frank saw her reappear a dozen feet to the left, a short and bloodied dagger twirling in her hand as she studied her surroundings. She met Frank’s eyes, and she winked.
Frank grinned back, but he immediately felt bad. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. That life is over. You retired.
Goreth loomed over the downed guard and swung his hammer down again, roaring in rage. Frank stopped looking for the majordomo. He assumed he either went to get reinforcement, or he was getting the next trap ready. In the meantime, there were three blocking their path, and an enraged Minotaur that might end up murdering someone.
The guards rushed the Minotaur to save their colleague. One of them pulled a short sword and threw away his truncheon, murder in his eyes and before Frank could react, a trunk-like arm of baked clay came at the guards like a bat. Wilbur’s hand clipped two of them–the man with the sword included–and sent the two flying for a good dozen of feet backward. The third guard threw himself sideways to escape the massive hand, landing himself a few feet away from Frank.
Blade angled low, Frank stepped in behind the guard as scrambled to get up and let the bladed edge slide against the man’s wrist.The blade barely cut through the skin, and Frank felt the charge of magic flood out of the sickle.
The guard shouted and swung backward, but Frank was already two steps away and watched the panicked man look down at his arm. A green mist hung over the injury for an instant before it burrowed in, like dust through a vacuum nozzle. The man flailed in panic, swatting at his injury, trying to brush the magic away, but it was too late. He took a step back… then a slower second one before he fell backward, his limbs locked.
Another roar filled the lobby and Frank turned. Goreth ripped the shield away from the guard’s bloodied–and obviously broken arm–before throwing it aside, and under him, dazed, the guard finally lost his smirk.
“Wilbur, we need to calm him down!”
Frank started charging the sickle, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it on the Minotaur. He didn’t want things to get too far. And he didn’t know what would happen if they did.
“Goreth, stop!”
The Minotaur punched, and the guard’s helmet went flying. His head lolled, but he was still awake.
At least he could take the punch. Frank wasn’t sure if a normal person could take that and live.
Mana flowed in the [Viper’s Fang], and he tightened his grip. If he had to paralyze him, they might have to leave him here. Unless Wilbur could carry the Minotaur and even then, it would put them at risk. Frank would be shocked if the way to the Hall was clear.
Please stop.
Goreth raised his hand again, and the guard quaked. Frank leaned forward, but suddenly, the Minotaur stopped. A snort. Then a rumbling voice came through. “If I were a beast, I would rip off your head and stomp through your ribs. Like stepping on a twig. But I. Am. Not.”
He snorted again, then straightened up. He looked side-long to Frank, then to the sickle, before turning toward the door and stomping forward.
Frank exhaled in relief, then felt a movement to his left and tensed up for an instant before realizing who it was.
I get a magical rabbit and she gets to teleport? Frank shook his head. Oh well. Maybe [Quick Step] would be as good.
“Remind me not to piss that one off,” said Esther, biting into a bit of bread. Frank stared at her hand–wondering where she even got the food from.
“What? I’m snacky.”
----------------------------------------
They found the majordomo waiting for them in front of the closed wrought-iron gates. And behind those gates was the street that would hopefully lead to their freedom.
Unfortunately–and as expected–he wasn’t alone. Behind him stood two rows of five house guards each, barring the way out, and as Frank and the group approached, a rapier-like sword materialized in front of the majordomo.
He smoothly grabbed it with a dignified flourish before saluting them, his eyes watchful. Cold. “You have trespassed and attacked the guardians of this home. Surrender, and I swear no harm would come to you.”
Salem barked out a laugh. “Wouldn’t have happened if you let us leave.”
Frank shrugged as he dug into his pocket, and Esther pointed at the cook. “What he said.”
Oh right. I already drank the potion.
He didn’t like the state of his mana reserves. The sickle hadn’t consumed too much, but if he was to put a number on it, he’d say he was about 70%. Maybe 80% if he was optimistic.
Maybe I’ll ask the others once we’re past the gates.
He hasn’t missed this sort of stress, but knowing they couldn’t outright murder them was a relief. Still, he had no plans to stay put at the mayor’s mercy. Not without a fight.
The majordomo seemed to understand that, and he nodded at them. “Then you leave me no choice. Guards, apprehend–”
–the majordomo’s voice cut off as a giant lance of water sailed over the western wall and crashed into the first row of guards.
The resulting geyser forced Frank to close his eyes. When he looked again, half the guards were down while the rest were dragging themselves away as they fearfully glanced toward the wall. The majordomo–who was a good twenty feet away to the right–was staring in the same direction while he spoke in a low voice that Frank couldn’t hear.
Another lance flew over the wall, and the guards scrambled to get away. It arced down toward the gates, shorter and wider than the previous one, and slammed into the gates with a crash of sound and water.
When his vision cleared out, he saw one side of the gate on the ground, torn out of its hinges, while the second was still attached to the gate post, though badly twisted.
How common was water magic? Because Frank so far had met only one. And if this was Khaa’s doing…
No matter. The message was obvious. He turned to the others and shouted. “Run!”
Frank bolted forward toward the broken gate, and he heard the others quickly follow. A guard saw him coming and reached for a baton in a panic, and it slipped out of his grip. Frank aimed and shot out a [Force Missile]. The spell clipped the guard’s shoulder and threw him back to the ground.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw the majordomo take a step toward them and stop to parry a flying knife. No sooner had he lowered his rapier again that two more throwing knives hurtled toward him. Esther kneed another disoriented guard before throwing yet another dagger toward the majordomo, then she was out of the gate.
Frank stood past the doorway, shooting more [Force Missiles] at whoever tried to stop the others and when Hel’va finally got through he followed the voice of the others. He started down the road that led back to the main thoroughfare, quickly catching up with the others and when he looked beyond them–he almost stumbled.
A big, luminescent arrow floated in front of one of the alleys. It pointed down and right and Frank debated for an instant if following strange sky arrows would be such a great idea–until a group of city guards rounded the corner further down the street.
Which made the decision really easy.
“Follow the arrow,” he shouted, quickly glancing behind. Now he was almost sure that Khaa was the one helping them break out. He wasn’t sure about the arrows, but the water must be her. She’s the only one who knew the guards were taking him to the mayor’s home, and she knew they were shifty.
The group bolted down the alley, with Goreth and Wilbur trailing behind. Frank ran, hearing a shout of surprise when he passed in front of the open window of a few homes and within a few moments, he saw another arrow ahead, pointing to the right.
Frank kept glancing back as the group followed the arrows, dodging random walkers, jumping over some upturned cases that Goreth completely pulverized. Someone opened a window at some point, and Wilbur ran right through it in a shower of splinters.
They would be utterly lost if the arrows decided to not appear again. He was starting to worry–and run out of breath–when they finally came out into the light of day.
“There,” said Goreth as he pointed to their right, wheezing, and Frank’s heart leapt when he realized they were on the right side of a large marble building.
The Hall of Champions.
Then his hopes came crashing down when a recognizable voice reached his ears.
“You’re all under arrest for attacking the citizens and personal guards of the mayor of Tinecea.”
Lieutenant Tasos stepped around the stone balustrade, flanked by two other city guardsmen holding shields and truncheons. As for Tasos, his hands were empty, but both himself and the two guardsmen had silver bracelets and it seemed like he had been waiting for them in front of the Hall, and now, self-satisfaction was written all over his face.
“On the ground, hands above your heads.”
Frank remembered the ease with which the lieutenant had overpowered him hours earlier. He looked sidelong. Maybe Goreth or Wilbur could keep him busy?
“There’s only three of them,” whispered Esther. “Why are we waiting for more to show up?”
Salem stepped forward and spoke loudly, attracting the attention of passersby and the small crowd that was forming. “We were only defending ourselves. The mayor’s people wouldn’t let us leave after trapping us in a steel-barred room. They said we are guests, but what guests are held against their wishes? I ask–”
“On the ground, now.”
The lieutenant’s order echoed, and for an instant, it was all that Frank could hear. His knees buckled, and with every moment that passed, they bent more and more. Thoughts of resistance were brushed away, and Frank grabbed on to them with everything he could.
It was just like in the mayor’s office. Frank found his will smothered by Tasos’ command. The smile of the mayor flashed in his mind, superimposing on the self-satisfied expression of the lieutenant.
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Frank grit his teeth. He just wanted to figure out what was going on. Find his family. Find the people he knew and loved. Figure out a way out of this mess and make the most of this second chance. But instead, he had to deal with this.
I don’t have time for this.
His anger roiled against the command, and his descent slowed up. The order was still echoing in his ears. Solemn. Rightful. As if it had been intoned by a judge.
But Tasos wasn’t a judge. He was a petty, violent little pawn that obeyed a cheat of a mayor.
Yeah. To hell with that.
He noticed the familiar magic in his mind and stubbornly pushed against it. It was similar to his experience with the mayor’s magical influence. He felt the magical effect push on his thoughts, but Frank resisted with every drop of will he could manage.
He hadn’t gotten through everything in his life to get here and bend the knee to this man.
He glared up at Tasos, teeth bared, and met his eyes. A rage he hadn’t felt in decades filled his chest.
Tasos was of the same breed of filth that locked his parents and siblings in his childhood home before they set it on fire.
Because he refused to keep following orders. And they wanted to set an example.
His thighs tensed up and spasmed in pain, as if they were trying to obey two different signals at once. But in the end, he stopped lowering himself. And the pain was worth it.
It was worth it to see the smug smile slip off Tasos' face.
That moment of surprise seemed to be enough. Or maybe the spell had run its course. In any case, Frank felt the pressure of the command fade out, and he heard the groans of his fellow Champions as they finally shook off the order as well.
Tasos broke eye contact first, and waved his hand to the two guards flanking him.“Start with the small fries. I’ll take care of the big two. Then I’ll come to break this one,” he said, nodding toward Frank.
Frank got up and felt at his connection to the sickle, then triggered its enchantment. His mana pumped down into the weapon, and his eyes flicked to [Quick Step]. Disabling Tasos quickly would be ideal, but he also had to keep an eye on Hel’va and Salem. He doubted the cook’s defensive capabilities, and Hel’va—well, he didn’t know what she could do. But she hadn’t said or done much fighting that he’d seen so far so he assumed it wasn’t her specialty.
His arms were shaking. But not with fear.
He gripped the pommel harder. Anger wasn’t an excuse to risk innocent lives, so the Champion’s safety took priority.
Goreth and Wilbur stepped forward to meet the lieutenant while the two guardsmen stepped around and approached the four remaining escapees.
Frank grimly stepped forward to meet the approaching duo. To the right, Esther mirrored his movement. The paralytic charge of the sickle was primed, and at the edge of his perception, the trigger of [Quick Step] was ready to be pressed.
And then, behind the two guards coming toward him, a plume of pulverized clay filled the air, and some of the spectating onlookers screamed.
----------------------------------------
Tasos winced as he shook his hand. The suit was harder than it appeared.
Headless, it stumbled backward for a few steps before falling on its behind.
Tasos exhaled sharply as he shook his head. What a waste. All that card’s potential, wasted on children.
He wasn’t an academic. Or some guild librarian that made it his life’s mission to collect every little bit of knowledge about cards. But he knew Suit cards. And he knew how taxing they were.
Time to wrap this up.
Tasos stepped forward and readied himself to dismantle the rest of the Suit. He suspected the pilot to only have the Suit card in his Hand, but he still moved carefully.
He hummed as he thought it through. At the pilot’s level, he would definitely only have the card.
A disadvantage, for sure. But would he give up his current Hand for a shot at a Suit card?
Absolutely.
The head started forming back, and the Minotaur–that Tasos had momentarily forgotten about–rushed him with a roar. The Beastfolk swung down his hammer, and Tasos side-stepped the obvious blow. Another pulse of mana into [Enhanced Strength: Explosive Burst] and he punched the Minotaur, square into his chest.
The Champion flew for a dozen feet before he crashed back down, and Tasos smiled. Throwing away larger opponents never got old. And his assumption was correct. The Minotaur was most certainly a Silver. How about you, though?
The Suit pilot was getting up again, slowly reforming its head. Probably just a Bronze-rank.
Tasos jumped forward and pulverized the head of the Suit again, then kicked its legs from under it. The legs cracked, and the suit came down, kicking up a cloud of dust and clay.
Tasos glanced toward the rest of the fight, and was glad to see Frank get thrown into the ground as soon as he got too close to Anthol. A movement ability that went further than he expected?
A classic mistake. He should have spent some time practicing with the card before he thought about using it in a fight.
The sickle flew out of his hand, and Tasos noticed the sheen of the blade. An Armament-type as well as an Enhancement on the first day?
Tasos spat on the ground and grit his teeth. He turned to the Minotaur.
“You should resign from the Trials. None of you deserve to be in it.”
He walked toward the Beastfolk, and took the time to kick a stone away from his path as he channeled another burst for [Enhanced Strength], but he paused when he caught the movement from the corner of his eyes.
Like a shark who smelled the scent of blood, Tasos saw a blond head slowly lift off the ground and grin with blood stained teeth. She wiped the blood leaking from her nose and winced, then she spoke.
----------------------------------------
The guardsman turned toward her, and Esther grinned. She tasted iron, but that wasn’t bad. Even the fucking undead–even though she might have pissed herself–hadn’t been too bad compared to how her life had ended.
This right here? This was a vacation.
“Poor…baby. You wanted to be…in Trials? Ouch,” she groaned, then looked back at the guardsman. “What happened? Didn’t make the cut?”
Esther dragged herself up slowly. Even though she was exaggerating the amount of pain she was in, she was still hurt. But she had a plan. And she needed Frank to be ready.
And I need to find if there are healing cards. There are healing potions. Then there must be healing cards. Or just stock up on potions. She could still feel the undead bites from yesterday and the memory made her shudder. This is so…exciting.
The guard froze up, and Esther’s smile widened when she saw the tightened jaw and the hateful glare she got.
Gotcha.
She stumbled up to her feet then glanced at where Frank was. When she found him slowly getting up, she looked back to the guardsman. “Why do you think we were selected, but you weren’t?”
“On the ground,” said the guardsman as he approached, abandoning whatever he had planned for the Minotaur.
Esther ignored that. ”Must be nice,” she said, glancing back at Frank and meeting his eyes, “throwing your weight around like a big man. Did they even tell you why they didn’t take your application seriously or you weren’t worth the effort?”
“Silence.”
Esther felt the same magic from earlier. She tried to speak more, but the air refused to leave her lungs. She couldn’t even get herself to move, as her foot might make a noise, and she couldn’t get herself to go against the command.
This magic commands bullshit is nasty.
She grit her teeth, trying to get herself to speak but she couldn’t break through. And now she felt extra vulnerable as she watched the oncoming man.
His fists were balled and she felt the first real twinge of fear since yesterday. She could not take those punches. For god’s sake, the Minotaur flew when he got punched. Frank hurry up you slow piece of–
“Corrupt lackeys aren’t Champion material. That’s my guess,” Frank spoke.
The guardsman’s glower was definitely impressive. His eyes narrowed toward Frank and Esther did the same, glancing toward her companion and saw him holding both hands up in a fighting stance, the sickle back in his hand. She saw him slowly open and close his fingers in an odd order, and grinned to herself.
The pressure of the command wavered–which she assumed was due to the unstable emotional state of the guard–and was finally able to push her voice through. “You think? Ah well. He can watch us win this whole thing from whatever rat hole he crawled out of. And speaking of rat holes, how’s your mom?”
The guardsman screamed and lunged forward, and Esther jumped back, triggering both her cards in quick succession. One to get away from the lunatic. The second–which she had kept in reserve so far–to get some payback.
“[Mark Target: Homing Projectiles] and [Short Blink].” The cards lit up and Esther’s environment changed instantly. She was about ten feet away, and her hand immediately went to her belt. She tapped another card, and a knife made of cold metal slapped against her palm and without aiming too hard, she threw it in the guardsman’s general direction.
To her right, she saw Frank throw his sickle, quickly followed by a swarm of glowing bolts and to her surprise, Hel’va threw a red glowing bottle as well.
Again, and again, Esther tapped [Balesteel Knife], and again, she threw the blades out, as fast as she could manage, ignoring the painful hollowness that was filling her chest.
Time slowed as projectiles homed on the guard. He crouched in reaction, ready to run and Esther wished she had something to quicken the projectiles, but she didn’t.
Get hit, damn you.
She threw the last knife toward his legs, and as the knife left her arm, she stumbled forward, out of mana. Her vision swam a bit, but she could see him. The projectiles were all about to land.
The guardsman surged–and immediately stumbled. She looked down, at the same time as he did, and saw the mound of clay that enveloped both of his feet for an instant before the projectiles hit him.
Hel’va’s bottle landed. The glass shattered, and the detonation of light and fire made everyone flinch.
Get fucked.
Esther turned to find the other two guards that still needed to be dealt with–and saw them both lying on the ground. One was at the foot of a wall, lying in a massive puddle of water, while the other was sitting motionless, staring into the empty air ahead of him.
Esther frowned. She was glad for the help, sure. But there was no such thing as a free lunch. She had the distinct feeling these people were going to show up sooner or later and make their pitch.
A large hand grabbed her by the collar and lifted her up. The Minotaur glanced down at her. “Come on, up the stairs,” he said, before doing the same thing to Salem.
----------------------------------------
Frank was the last to step through the shimmering air that hung in the doorway to the Hall. The roar of the bloodied and burnt Tasos cut off, and in its place Frank heard music.
Warm air, soft music, and the smell of delicious foods filled his senses, but he couldn’t even get himself to appreciate them just yet.
Frank dragged himself toward the others, and dropped down to the ground next to them. He groaned as laid down to the ground, jaw and shoulder both pulsing with pain, while his chest felt empty. He had sent so many [Force Missiles] in quick succession at the end, trying to force to be faster and stronger, and he ended up completely burning through his mana reserve. And obviously, he wasn’t the only one in bad shape.
“Screw this city,” said Salem as slowly sat back up wincing.
Esther nodded. “What he said,” she lifted her head a bit, glanced toward the lights and crowd in the distance then plopped her head back down. “I’m getting a drink and not coming out of the place ever again. In five minutes. Or thirty.”
“I want to fight that man again,” came the un-muffled voice of Wilbur.
Frank turned toward where he’d seen the armored Suinah last, and he found the Champion’s small form sitting on the ground in the midst of his dissolving Suit. It had mostly faded, flaking away and disappearing into the aether.
He had his arms crossed and brows furrowed. His eyes were overly bright.
Then he remembered how Tasos had pulverized the head of his Suit multiple times, and that this was just a kid.
Esther slowly turned and when her eyes landed on the Beastfolk she gasped and tried to sit up, before wincing and lying back down. She turned her head to him.
“You were in the giant armor thing?”
Wilbur’s angry frown softened as he turned to her, and he nodded. Frank could swear his ears–that were also twitching more than they had been–had gotten red.
Esther turned to Frank, mouth open in a wowed smile. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Frank, then back to Wilbur, then back to Frank. Then she covered her mouth from Wilbur and mouthed something to Frank, who shook his head and shrugged, not having any idea of what she was saying.
Her face morphed into a look of outrage. “That should be obvious. We have to team up with him! We’re too…” she waved around with her hands, then snapped her finger and pointed at him. “Specialized. We’re too specialized. We need someone like him.”
Frank stared back at her for a full five seconds before looking back at the ceiling.
He absolutely agreed on the second part. Both of them worked–used to work best from the shadows. Unseen and unnoticed. In this world though? With the kind of threats they might be facing, and the competition that they had, they needed more people. Muscle. Logistics. Support. But…
That would mean Frank would take part in these Trials.
He had considered quitting, but he knew that wasn’t going to be an option. He’ll confirm, to be sure, but he suspected these Trials were happening. Might as well consider himself a participant for the foreseeable future. And if he was going to be competing, then yeah… he’ll need a team.
And Esther would be a great teammate. Once he got some garanties from her.
Frank sat up, turned to face her, tilted his head down and stared at her through his browns
“Aw come on. Better the devil you know and whatnot, right? Scout’s honor, I will not doublecross you. We’ll be on the same team!”
“Until there’s a prize that you want and can’t have?”
“Well… we could talk about it. On a case-by-case basis.”
Frank turned and brushed the ground a couple of times before he readied himself to lay back down.
She groaned, tilting her head back. “Come on. Don’t be like that. It’s not as if I had much of a choice before right? This is different.”
His misgivings weren’t really objectively valid. Back in their world, it made no sense why a competitor would not stab you in the back if it benefited them or their agency. Plus, if she was really that untrustworthy, she wouldn’t have been so sought after by the different organizations and factions of his old world.
He was just a bit sore from their latest encounter. Being double-crossed was always a risk and he had ignored the possibility. Which was on him, to be fair.
Frank exhaled, then looked her in the eyes. “You can’t quit the team while we’re in a Trial. You can’t intentionally work against our team in any possible way. And if you want something, tell the team first, before going solo and tossing us to the wolves.” That last part made her flinch. Odd, he thought, but he acted as if nothing had happened.
She shook her head and sighed. “Oh Frankie… I didn’t know you nursed little grudges so much,” she put a hand on her hip and when Frank gave her an even stare, she shrugged. “Fine. I’m in. I’ll let you deal with the nitty-gritty though. Same as before. I’d rather enjoy myself and hog all the spotlights.” She held out her right hand for a handshake. “First time we’re really working on the same side eh, Gardner.”
Frank winced as he shook her hand. “Just Frank.”
She laid back down. “Sure thing, boss. We will renegotiate at the end of the first Trial though. I might become a celebrity and that would make me too expensive for ya. We can talk about it then.”
Frank was already regretting his decision.
“Now though… How about we do some recruiting?” her eyes slowly drifted to the others who had been watching so far. They landed on Wilbur first, who looked searchingly behind himself.
“Oh, good,” came the dry voice of a cook that wasn’t going to be recruited.