Jaire awoke with a scream. Panting heavily, he grasped his hair as he clenched his jaw. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a-
“Are...you okay Jaire?”
Looking up, he saw a kid from his class watching him with a look of concern and confusion etched upon his face. Huh?? What's Marc doing in my room? Wait, why are all these people-
His eyes wideneed as his brain perked and the situation sunk in.
Face burning with embarrassment, he quickly replied, “Y-yeah! Just trying to-uh-relieve tension!”
“Riiiight,” Marc responded as he shifted awkwardly, “Well, it's time to get armed. So...”
“Ah, okay! Thanks!” Quickly standing, Jaire flashed an awkward smile and hasteningly walked away. Ugh, I can’t believe I did that!! Damn that stupid dream!
Minutes later he stood in line for the armory. It wasn't a true armory, but rather tables manned by volunteers that were backed by racks that held a variety of weapons and armor for display. Further behind, dozens of creates full of the actual items lined the wall.
As he waited his turn, Jaire recapped his results in the first half of the Ceremony. He had forgone all the special events in favor of conserving his stamina for the rest of the run, but even then he had barely managed to complete the Gauntlet. Man, I can't believe I passed out regardless of all of that. Still, I think I did decently well on every trial, so at least it was worth it. They only gave us an hour to rest, so most of us are still going to be pretty tired for this next part. Even still, i think my strate-
“Hey! Hey you!”
Snapping out of his mind, Jaire turned towards the voice and saw a an older male attendant frowning at him from behind the counter. The man looked gruff and disheveled, as though he had woken up late after a night out, and he was obviously not in a good mood.
"Yeah you!" he called out once more, "You gonna grab something or what? You’re holding up the line.”
“Huh? Oh!!” Jaire quickly stepped forward as the man rolled his eyes.
“So what do ya want?” the man spoke as Jaire reached the table.
Jeez, what's his deal?
“Ummm," Oh crap, I didn't think this through, "Uhhh....can I get a...uhhh…well...” His eyes darted around the rack, unsure which items he should be getting. Oh crap oh crap oh crap!
“Well?”
Offense? Defense? Sword? Spear? Shield? Net? Gun?! “Uhhh, a...uhh...the...the...regular??”
The man frowned with one eyebrow risen. “The regular?” He questioned.
“Y-yeah! Y-you know, like umm, like what everyone else is getting?”
“What the f-”
“Just get me anything!" Jaire blurted out, "Anything is fine! Really!”
There was a short pause before the man huffed and walked away.
Ughh I should have thought about this before getting in line...damn it...ah whatever, this is fine. I'm pretty decent with everything, so I should be fine with whatever he brings. Maybe...hopefully...
A short while later, the man returned carrying a large wodden box that landed on the table with a heavy thud.
That can't be good...
“Alright then. We got here a short sword, a long sword, a dagger, spear, buckler, regular shield, heavy shield, three types of helmets, two pairs of bracers, shoulder guards, shin guards, one chest plate, chainmail, greaves, and a pair of gauntlets." The man finished by pushing the box towards Jaire. "It's all yours."
Jaire gulped. Holy crap that's way too much. “...and this is...the regular?” His eyes darted to the other tables, where the students had boxes that were half the size.
“Yep.” Came the curt reply.
...he's screwing with me isn't he? How am I even supposed to-
"What's wrong?" The man spoke as he glared, "Don't believe me?"
Uneasiness rose in Jaire's chest as the man glared at him. Clearing his throat, Jaire gave the best smile he could. "Thank you."
He reached out for the box, but just before he could grab it, the man pulled it backwards.
Huh??
"You dumbass." The man sighed before continuing, "Listen here kid, I know you're nervous as shit, but this ain't no time to panic. You can't be letting others make decisions for you."
“Right...sorry.” ...wait, was this just to teach me a lesson?
“What would you do if I actually gave you all of this crap?” The man continued, "Just go along with it even if it screws you over? Well?"
“Um, uh...I don't-” Jaire stammered as confusion and irritation swirled within him. What the hell is the deal with this old man? I have way too much on my plate right now to-
"C'mon now, just cut 'im some slack~" A blonde attendant spoke from the side, "Sorry 'bout 'im lil' one. He's been cranky since the morn'."
As the second attendant approached, the first grumbled and walked away. Looking over the second man, Jaire noticed a stark difference between him and the first. While the first looked disheveled and annoyed, this man stood tall and proud with a charming smile on his clean shaven face. I'm guessing he's the boss, though his cloak seems just as dirty. Eh, probably from handling all the weapons I guess.
"So whatcha need?" The attendant spoke as he gave a warm smile to Jaire, causing Jaire to feel at ease and smile in return.
"Ah, right. Um, I don't know. I can't decide between an offensive fighting style or a defensive one."
"Mmm, yea yea yea I getcha. Real big issue ya got. Well then, why not both?" The attendant proceeded to rummage through the box until he procured the short sword and shield "Best of both worlds ya got there."
Oh, duh! "Yeah, this is perfect! Thank you!"
"Anytim-oh! And don't forget a helmet, just in case ya know?"
"Yes you're right. Thank you again!"
Grabbing the items, Jaire smiled as he walked away. Thank god for that guy. This was super easy. Stupid preachy old fart.
Ten minutes later, Jaire entered the stadium once more. The arena floor was cleared of the Gauntlet's obstacles and replaced by a hundred or so fighting rings. With the short sword in his right hand and the shield strapped to his left, he jogged to his assigned position.
Soon after, every student stood within their assigned rings as the MC began once more, “The rules are as follows: Each ring will begin with four fighters. There, you will fight until there is a victor! You may win by knockout, ring out, or forcing your opponents to surrender. From there, the winner shall proceed to any of the encompassing rings and join their fight. Due to the layout of the rings, it may be possible to have a ring with more fighters than we started with, but even in those cases, only one fighter may proceed. This shall continued on into we have the ultimate winner!
“Now remember, this is a test of your martial prowess and fighting skills. Although the weapons are dull and blunt, attempting to intentionally killing or maim your opponents will lead to immediate disqualification. Aside from that however, your ceremonial battle gear is capable of withstanding and reducing blunt damage from even an adult Gracerus, thus you are free to fight to your heart’s content! Now then, students! ARE YOU READY!?”
The statdium erupted in noise as the students roared in unison. A large gong was struck as the MC shouted, “BEGIN!!”
Immediately, two of Jaire’s opponents charged at each other while the third turned towards him. Huh? Did they have some sort of agreement beforehand? Ahh, doesn't matter, a good old fashioned one-one-one is fine by me.
The other fighter was wearing a metal helmet that covered everything but his eyes, bracers, and wielded a massive claymore. Hmmm, interesting. As the fighter raised his weapon, Jaire scrapped a line in the dirt with his foot.
From that position, he's definitely going to charge with an overhead swing. So once he does, I have to counter with- Seconds passed as the two remainded in place, sizing each other up. The sounds of metal clashing and people yelling reached his ears as he patiently waited for the figther to move.
A second later, the fighter dashed forward with weapon arched as Jaire scurried a meter backwards and raised his guard, keeping his attention focused on the line. Almost, almost. As the fighter crossed the line, Jaire instantly darted to the side.
The strike came down in an instant, crashing into the floor mere moments after it was swung. Jaire saw a look of suprise and alarm crossed the fighter's eyes as he dodged, but rather than retaliate, Jaire simply skipped away. Tch, it's too risky. That strike was way too predicatable, he didn't even try to feint.
Recomposing himself, the fighter charged once more. This time, his weapon was ready to perform a cross strike, as he closed the distance to Jaire. This is basic...too basic...is it a trap??? Jaire hesitated as dozens of different moves played out in his head. This can't be right, he can't really-
As the strike came out, Jaire realized it was indeed just a regular swing. Unfornuately, since he had not prepared for it, he was forced to block with his shield, sending a heavy vibration down his arm. Pushing the claymore away, Jaire dashed backwards. Argg focus damn it! Stop overthinking and focus!
Unfornuately the figther was unwilling to give him a moment of repreive and he immediately charged, swinging the claymore wildly towards Jaire. There was no rhyme or reason to the strikes, they were the most basic that Jaire had seen. With each strike the fighter presented glaring openings in their defenses, which only increased Jaire's paranoia.
Jaire continued to dodge and block, but found he was slowly pushed towards the edge of the ring. Gritting his teeth, Jaire blocked once more and finally swung his weapon. Argg fine!!
To his surprise, his strike landed cleanly on the fighter's chest, forcing him to stumble backwards from the force of the blow.
Dumbfounded, Jaire only stared as the figther regained his footing. That was it?? But...but how???
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Ughh," The fighter groaned as he rubbed his chest. "That really hurt."
That voice..."Dylen???" Jaire called out.
"Hm? Yeah what's up?" the fighter replied as he raised his weapon.
"What the hell are you doing with that thing? Aren't you trying to be a Seeker?" Jaire accused. Is he stupid? Seekers never trained with a heavy weapon!
"Oh this? Well I've never used one so I was curious about it." Dylen responded with a shrug. "Seekers rarely care about the combat portion so I figured why the hell not."
"Dude! Don't go making things harder for yourself!" Or for me! Jeez...well, at least that explains his lackluster skills.
"Fine fine, I was getting pretty tired anyways. These things are heavier than they look."
Dropping the sword onto the ground, Dylen stretched his shoulders and went into a boxing stance. "Alright then, ready."
Ah, damn. I should have taken him out before he got serious. Oh well...
Jaire raised his weapons as the two began to circle one another. This time, Jaire took the initiatve and dashed in. He swung the sword in a variety of strikes, forcing Dylen to retreat or get struck. He has no shield and my range is longer this time, so if I just keep up the pressure he'll eventually-
To his surprise, Dylen stopped dodging just as Jaire's sword slashed towards him from a side swing. Wha-!? His sword collided against Dylen's bracers, but not in a hard clash. Instead, Dylen had positioned his bracer at an angle, which in conjucture with giving it an upwards push, redirect Jaire's swing up and straight to his head.
Except it wasn't there, as Dylen had ducked and spun at the same time, allowing him to send a back kick straight into Jaire's ribs.
“Oof!” Jaire stumbled backwards as pain shot through his side. Gritting his teeth, he dashed backwards an extra few steps as the pain dulled out.
"You good there Jaire?”
“Yeah," He snarled, "just peachy." Damn that hurt. Seekers and their damn leg strength.
The both charged simultaneously. Jaire switched his attacks from swings to short and quick jabs, rendering Dylen bracer's useless. With the shield, he defended against the kicks while also using it to bash at Dylen's body, slowly pushing him towards the edge. At last, Jaire feinted a jab and instead slashed at Dylen's legs, who responded by darting backwards and falling out of bounds.
“Ahh,” Dylen panted, “Damn. Shoulda taken it seriously from the start. Good job man.”
“Thanks,” Jaire replied panting, "Same for you. Well, sadly I gotta keep on fighting, so let's chat later alright?"
Waving as he turned, Jaire took a deep breath and jogged towards the other two figthers. That was tough, and it was barely my first fight. Ugh...
As he approached, he slowed to a gait, and eventually fully stopped. What’s going on here??
Though he stood just a few feet away, the fighters completely ignored him. On top of that, they had also droppd their weapons and armor in favor of wildly punching each other with their bare fists. This seems to be a grudge match...should I interupt them?
He glanced to the side. Some of the representatives were standing there, watching him. With an internal sigh, he raised his weapon. Sorry guys, I have my-
Jaire darted away and readied his defense. The duo had stopped their punches mid-flight and had glared at him, which had spooked him out. He readied for their combined attack, but instead, both students flopped to the floor.
...did they faint?...Does this count as a win?
Seeing as how no one stopped him, Jaire akwardly ran towards the next ring. In it, seven students were currently fighting. Well, here goes...
Running forward, he aimed straight at the back of a dual axe wielder. The figther was currently engaged with a shield/javelin fighter and was caught completely by surprise. Jaire managed to land a clean hit on their shoulder before they managed to disengage, only to eat a mouthful of metal courtesy of the other fighter's shield.
Without skipping a beat, Jaire launched towards the now-exposed shield fighter while simultaneously avoiding an oncoming swing from a mace at his side. Before he could connect however, a glint in his perepherals forced him to raise his shield, which was immediately struck at by a flying handaxe.
The axe uselessly bounced off his shield as the bloodied axe wielder recklessly charged. Jaire swung his shield to dissuade the figther, but to his surprise the figther took it straight in the chest. With their free hand, they reached around his shield and grasped him by the arm while they struck raising his arms above and allowing the shield to slam into his chest. With their free hand, the axe wielder reached around and grabbed Jaire’s arm, holding him in place as their other arm swung their remaining axe towards his head.
Without a moment to spare, Jaire dropped to the floor as he lifted his boot onto the figthers’ abdomen. Surprised, the fighter failed to let go of Jaire's arm, and fell forward. The next second, Jaire finished his somersault and pushed with all his might, launching the figther into the air behind him. The axe fighter crashed into another two fighters, and began to brawl with them as Jaire got up and repositioned himself. Well that’s one wa-
Instinctively, Jaire rose his shield arm up to block.
*BANG*
He skid a few feet as a heavy object slammed against his shield. Pain shot up his arm as it recoiled from the impact. Before he could catch his balance, his instincts screamed once more and he dove backwards, dropping to the floor as he narrowly dodged another blow. Looking up, he finally caught sight of the attacker as he landed. There stood a girl who wielded a long metal pole, and she was glaring right at him.
Arm throbbing, he slowly rose as he kept his eyes on the girl. Who the hell is she?! What d-
She seemed to blur before his eyes, and the next thing he knew she was quickly flying backwards as the sky fell. Wha-
He fell on his back as pain burst from his chest. It was then that he realized what had occurred. She had closed the distance between them and had sent him flying before he could react. His chest burned as it registered the strength of the attack. God that hurts! How the hell did she do that?!
Groaning, he slowly stood up. Ahead, the girl was fighting against two other fighers simultaneously, and winning. Each struck at her with their own weapons, but she managed to dodge by a hair's breadth each time. Finally, her counter attack came, and the attackers crumpled and flew just as he had.
Oh come on...this just isn’t-
He hid behind his shield as the pole slammed into it. Shockwaves travelled through his body and he darted backwards and away from the figther. With every step, the pole crashed into his shield until it was numb and trembling uncontrollably. Eventually, he could not hold it up any longer, and his arm fell uselessly to his side. From there, he spent another ten minutes desperately dodging and parrying with no chance to counter attack, until he was panting for air. And she's not even winded...damn she's good. If it wasn't for this gear dulling out all of the damage, I would have been taken out at the start.
When he could no longer raise his weapon, the girl stopped her assault and just stared at him. I'm done. I can't beat her. What is she waiting for though? Is she giving me a chance to give up? Better than getting my lights knocked out I suppose.
"Wow" he began with his best smile, "You're amazing, I seriously can't compete. I surr-"
Pain erupted from his cheek as he stumbled backwards. OW! WHAT THE HELL!?
The girl stood in front of him, glaring with hate filled eyes.
"What the hell is your deal?! I was going to-GRAH!!"
The pole smacked right into his shoulder in a painful explosion. He fell to his knee as he held his shoulder. Shit that hurts! Even with the damage reduction, she hits like a truck.
"Get up." She spoke.
Confused and scared, he slowly rose and faced her. The anger was still present in her eyes, and she looked to be barely supressing a full out rage. Why is she so mad? I don't even know this girl!
"I-"
*SMACK*
Pain erupted in his gut and he bent over in pain. He violently coughed, releasing a splurt of painted saliva.
...blood? His eyes widened in fear as he stared at the bloody floor. Why...why is she doing this?!
Fearfully, his eyes darted to the side of the ring, and he desperately tried to run towards it.
*CRACK*
Pain exploded from his ribcage and he flew towards the center of the ring. He tumbled a few times before he was able to stop, and wheezed painfully for air.
Shit shit shit! His body panicked as it continously fought between screaming in pain and taking in as much air as possible. What the hell does she want!?
A sinking fear swelled within him as the girl slowly approached him. No! Stop! Leave me alone! Get away!
He watched in fear as her fury spoke to him through her eyes.
She wants to kill me.
Frigthened, he turned and tried to crawl away, until a sickening crunch and a howling pain erupted from his leg.
“Get up.”
His heart raced. Around him, the floor was covered in a layer of blood. The other contestants lay dead, while their decapitated heads sobbed and the crowd chanted.
You're going to die~You're going to die~You're going to die~
“Get. Up.” She commanded once more, her voice gutteral and snarling in animalistic fury. He gazed back up at her, hoping to plead for mercy, but froze as he looked into the empty holes where her eyes should have been.
This is the end.
No, this isn't right! Not like this!
Your path ends here.
NO! NOT LIKE THIS!!
Unless.
ANYTHING! I'll DO ANYTHING!!
Surrender. And be Free.
"I-"
The last thing he saw was the pole, and then his world went black.
------------------------------------
She abhored him. For five years she had hated and despised him. But that wasn't entirely true. It had started out as a simple dislike, where she rolled her eyes or thought about him with repulsion, but as the years went on, it grew and grew into the hatred that she felt today. Plenty of times she had wanted to fight him, to prove definitively that she was the better one of the two, yet because of his erractic scheduling and always being in the presence of Cheryl The Crusher or Ripper Jaques, she never had the chance.
Until today.
Pathetic. Jesy thought as she watched the boy crawl. How can someone so pathetic be allowed to-
Fury swelled once more and she planted her staff into his leg, eliciting another wail from him.
When the fighting began, she made sure to make her way towards his ring, praying that the little shit wouldn't be taken out before she could face him. To her great pleasure, he made the mistake of joining a ring in her direction, allowing her to finish up her third victory and join into the battle without having to chase through tougher opponents.
Once there,she had beaten him relentlessly until he could no longer lift either arm. She thought she would have been satisfied with just that, and almost was.
Until he smiled.
She had beaten him throroughly, dropping him down to a defenseless maggot without once taking a hit in return, yet the disgusting weakling had the audacity to smile at her. As if it was all just a game to him. As if her beatings meant nothing to him, that it would not change a thing. As if her feelings were nothing but a joke.
Something within her snapped at that point, and she no longer cared about simply humiliating him.
She wanted to break him.
“Get. Up.” she snarled once more. You little shit, I'm not done with you. Stand up and face me.
He lifted his head, his disgusting eyes full of fear as his mouth opened, “I-”
She knew the words he was trying to say yet again, and anger burst through her. In a blind rage, she swung her pole straight onto his head, which cracked loudly as he slumped over. Blood pooled around him as her senses returned.
Fuck. She panted as realization hit her. Worringly, she looked towards the representatives. Crap they're coming over. Fuck what do I-
Her skin pricked and she dashed forward instintively. She spun around to face the cause of the bloodlust, but aside from the unconscious bodies of her victims, the ring was empty. What the hell what that?! Who-
A creeping chill crawled up her spine as she watched the boy slowly rise. Something about the way he moved seemed weird and disturbing, as if a puppet was being made to stand by an amateur puppeteer.
What the fuck...Despite her body's protest to stay away, she cautiously stepped forward with weapon ready. The boy full stood in an awkward posture. And then he grinned.
“I feel…” He spoke as his grin widened to an uncomfortable degree, “soooooo goooood!” To her disgust, his hands rubbed his face in creepy ecstasy as he licked at the blood that covered it. He seemed lost in his own world, inspecting his body over as he rubbed his hands along it.
“You freak.” She snarled, unsure of what to do. The representatives had stopped approaching, seemingly interested in what would occur. Well, he's still alive, so I guess it's fair game. Good, I wasn't done with him yet.
Gritting her teeth, she exploded forward and torpedoed her pole to his chest. This same strike had been what caused her to win most of her fights thus far, as it was faster than most others could react to. She had spent years perfecting it, hoping it would be her signature move once she joined the Hunters and reached their elite ranks. Yet right now, all that hard work seemed to have vanished before her eyes, as she watched the boy wait into the last moment before twisting his body with a blinding speed. What's more, it seemed as though the pressure of his movement was so great it created a force that pushed her pole off center, forcing her to miss by a millimeter. How!? Imposs-
Every nerve screamed danger as she saw his bare hand claw towards her exposed flank.
“GRAHHH!!!!” Instead of retreating, she tackled him, dropping her spear to latch onto his body as pain erupted from her side. Her body screamed in fear but she kept it down, and with all the force she could muster, she launched him away. He flew backwards, and landed outside of the ring with a gentle thud.
"He's out!" She yelled, ensuring the representatives were aware as she gulped down her fear. Something about him didn't seem right, and just keeping her eye on him sent shivers down her spine. Part of her hoped he would try to re-enter so that they could intervene and silence him for good.
The other part was scared to find out what would actually happen. She shuddered as she eyed the boy.
To her relief, he seemed completetly uninterested in her. Instead, he just laughed and rolled around on the floor as he licked and sniffed the dirt, until he randomly fell asleep.
Wincing, she grasped at her side, and found five finger sized holes drilled into her armor. Thankfully, none of them were deep enough to rend flesh, thus only the pain of impact stung.
“You fucking freak…” She spat and stumbled to the next ring.