The Referee

"Fedal," Valle said slowly, "you're up next."

Johan only had time for two heavy breaths, both taken while he looked at the stands where the fallen Valder was. Is…is he dead? Is he at least unconscious? Is he done? His hand trembled twice. At first in fear, then in anger that someone had forced the emotion on him. Bastard. He—

Valle of Cresna flew at him and stabbed him in the chest. Distracted, Johan? Valle thought, his rapier driving a hole through his enemy. "Think not of a past partner during a dance, my lord. That is most rude!" Johan stumbled backwards, shouting in agony. His confusion was as plain as his pain. He—you just said that he—you said Fedal was the next one to fence! Cries of unfairness in his mind were mixed with frustration, having been unprepared for Valle's sudden Epee 3.0 powered strike.

The King in Cresna's fencing was aerial in nature—the first of its style.

For a singular second, for the first time since he had come to this world, Johan felt panic. His thoughts still on Valder, he had not anticipated Valle's attack and he now stumbled backwards in pain. During that brief moment Johan imagined himself losing, falling to this sudden onslaught of attacks.

It only lasted a moment.

Here he took a step back, using his HP to prevent Valle's strike from reaching his heart, then knocked the sword aside. Gone were his plans for an elaborate revenge. Many nights he spent dreaming of how to get back at the Fiend With the Rapier, how to make him pay for the humiliation—and though Johan wouldn't admit to himself, for being closer with Carr than he—yet right now those thoughts were pushed far away. Johan's mind thought only of survival.

Letting out a visceral shout from deep within his gut, Johan used his Swordsmanship to pull Valle's blade from within his chest, then his own sword to strike the man in the torso with the blunt side of Godslayer—he meant not to cut, but to slam the man away, to regain a measure of safety. The injured King in Cresna was sent flying, landing on the water to the side and sinking.

He did not float back up.

Johan breathed heavily, observing the place where Valle had submerged, and awaited a few moments with his blade drawn before he allowed himself a smile of satisfaction.

"Fedal, the Hero chosen by the fallen God," Johan said, a grin splitting his face as he approached Fedal. He drew his sword again, preparing another attack. "You are the last one."

"Now it really is my turn, huh?"

Fedal stepped onto the piste and his glance shifted in a few different directions. At first, he looked at the wall of fire behind Johan—where Carr was trapped behind. Carr…I'm not leaving you behind. Not after seeing what Johan did to Duartes when we left him. Then, he looked at Francisco, whose body contorted in pain on the ground. You brought me here for a reason, huh? Got me from Earth because you thought I was similar to you. Slowly his eyes moved toward Johan. Last time, I couldn't even lift my sword against this guy. I was exhausted but…that's not why I didn't fight him. I was scared. Still am, really. But somehow, being scared isn't stopping me from trying this time. Finally, his eyes looked at the horizon, where he stared at a unicorn only he could see.

You know already, yes? The unicorn spoke into Fedal's mind. The moment you run away from your fate is the moment the curse shall set.

Fedal nodded as if to respond. Oddly, the curse didn't bother him as much as it should have. He was scared, but he didn't feel hesitant in the slightest. If they ran right now, even if they were to abandon Carr…Johan could catch up to them with his superspeed. Fighting him on this narrow piste was a better chance of survival than trying to run, especially when he also knew why he would be Johan's first target. Turning his back and running would just be a death sentence. Not just that…we agreed to follow the duel's Rules. Now that God is dead, what will Johan do if we run? He had a few plans. Not good ones, but he had some plans at least.

That said, Fedal thought. This is a pretty bad situation, isn't it?

"You are nothing without your stats," Johan said. "Throw down your sword and let the real swordsmen fight."

Not too long ago, Fedal would have taken a step back and lost heart at this exchange. Instead, he took a step forward. "If only real fencers are fighting, then why is the shithead who sacrifices his friends to make up for his fuckups standing across from me?" Fedal asked. His voice was full of confidence, but internally he thought, Shit, I'm so fucking dead. Still, even as panic set in, he did not allow his arms to shake. "What, gonna glare at me? Just saying, you seem really arrogant considering how Valder was beating the crap out of you just a second ago. Hard to take you seriously when you have a broken nose."

Johan rushed forward at Fedal and they crossed blades—it wasn't an elegant fencing exchange, merely an exchange of stats. A total of over three thousand versus just one thousand, the result was predictable: Fedal was blown away, falling on his back and rolling on the ground numerous times until the momentum stopped. His HP prevented any major damage, but it hurt nonetheless. He's too fast to engage with regular fencing. I should—

Steel once again flashed before his eyes and such was the difference in their stats that Fedal could barely do anything except step backwards desperately. Even at his top speed moving backwards, he knew Johan could catch up to him in no time. I am not scared of you, Fedal thought, and this realization surprised himself most of all. I have practiced with Carr too much. I don't care if you have the speed of a God, he scares me more than you ever could!

Realizing that he would not be able to step backward fast enough to dodge the attack, Fedal suddenly stopped and squatted down in a ducking attack. If you're going so fast, then surely you can't stop at the drop of a dime, can you?

Yet reality was as cruel as Johan. His stats were high enough that his reflexes were sharper than any other being in the world, and his fencing skill had taught him how to decelerate in time. Most of all, what his past life had taught him was to see the signs of a move before they happened. Fedal's response had been correct, but talented a fencer as he might have become, he still lacked the experience against top level competition to truly learn how to disguise his moves. His body language hinted at a ducking attack, with his aggressive usage of stamina and slight raising of his blade, as if to compensate for a sudden drop—a weird habit some beginners can't fully shake off.

Johan parried his blade in eight and delivered the strike straight to Fedal's chest. If the attack had connected fully, the resulting explosion would have killed him. It was only instinct that kept him afloat, desperately bringing his right arm to the left in an attempt to deflect the attack with his own shoulder—a move that worked in keeping him alive at the cost of a grave wound. His sword arm was now nearly useless, a large chunk of his shoulder having been blown away by the devastating Swordsmanship.

Fedal remained on the ground, breathing heavily and holding his bleeding shoulder with a grimace. Well, at least that attack sent me flying far enough backward that I got some distance between us now, he thought grimly. His vision was blurry nowFedal remained on the ground, breathing heavily and holding his bleeding shoulder with a grimace. His vision was blurry now due to blood loss, but he could still faintly see Johan's shape approaching him slowly—the man seemed to be enjoying himself. Fedal tried to stand up, but failed, falling back to the ground again. He had almost reached his limit.

Shit. Is this it? What do I do now?

And suddenly, everything was dark.

"Am—am I dead?" Fedal muttered.

"No," said a voice. "Not yet."

In the complete darkness, Fedal was surprised to see he could still see his own body very clearly as if it—and nothing else—was illuminated. No. It's not like it's illuminated…it's like I can see it even without light. He was not wearing any clothes, he realized, but he didn't feel cold. His wounds were still present, but he didn't feel pain.

"You have a kind heart, hero. Don't let them take it away from you."

I have heard those words before, Fedal thought. Where—who said that?

Suddenly, another shape was summoned in the dark. At first it was distant, and the sound of hooves struck before the man himself appeared. Then, riding a unicorn, Martim the Sinner showed up - and dismounted.

The assassin that Fedal had fought in the church - the one who cursed him with the Unicorn Murders. He was also unclothed, and still had the same wounds Fedal had given him. The ones that had killed him.

"M—Martim!" Fedal cried out. "Are—are you alive?"

"No."

Fedal grimaced and looked back at his own body. "Ah. Then I must be—"

"No," Martim repeated. "I told you that our fight hadn't ended that day. That it would continue long after my death." He walked up to Fedal and sat beside him—he didn't look at him as he spoke, instead laying his gaze upon the endless darkness before them. "My Unicorn Murders is a rather unique skill. It will not allow me to leave this void until my curse is upon you."

"Ah." Somehow, Fedal appeared content with this explanation. Even my strongest powers as the Almighty Referee prevented me from accessing Martim's thoughts—the dead were unaffected, it seemed. "And you will not explain your curse yet, I imagine?"

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"No," Martim replied promptly, but with some humor to his voice. "It pleases me to see that Master Johan has obtained the power of the gods. Yet…"

"Yet?"

"Katherine," Martim said, somewhat slowly. "What you did for her…it wasn't something Master Johan would have. You offered her a helping hand when nobody else would have."

Fedal looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about? Anyone would have done that. She—she was lost and confused and…and alone. I needed to reunite her with her sister."

"Carr," Martim started, with a laugh, "nearly killed her. He isn't a cruel man, and he might even be a kind one. But he does not go out of his way to help others like you do. Don't forget that. I meant what I said earlier." His last words, when they fought to the death. "You have a kind heart. Don't let them take it away from you."

"Whose side are you on?" Fedal asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you cheering for Johan or us?"

"Johan," he replied promptly. "Yet…it would please me if you were to survive this encounter. I do sincerely appreciate that. And so I bring you here to give you this warning: stay down. If you mean to win, you must allow Johan to complete his curse."

"What are you doing?" Fedal cried out. "You died because you wanted to serve Johan, and now you start giving me a bunch of cryptic hints? Go hang out with the voices in Isabella's head or something. I don't—I don't want your help!"

"Lord Johan is preferable to any lord, of this I have no doubt. You call him a monster, but that monster saved countless lives. If we need to pay but a few meager lives to satisfy him—so be it. And I have always been willing to pay with my own life as well. Yet…" Martim finally looked at Fedal, a meager smile on his face. "As the unicorn has yet to conquer you…I believe there is value in keeping you alive. For Lord Johan's sake, even if he does not know it."

"What does that—"

"Lord Johan's godhood will be your best chance at besting him," Martim said casually, as if speaking about the morning rain. "If you give up on God's favor, you might see a path to your own salvation."

"My power is our only chance at defeating Johan, what the hell are you talking about?" Fedal shouted, rising to his feet. His wounds didn't threaten his life in the Void, but he was still dizzy and weak. He stumbled, falling back onto the ground again. "I—I can't give them up just for the sake of my life!"

"What about your friends' lives?"

Here Fedal hesitated and this was all Martim needed. He chuckled quietly to himself, put a gentle hand to Fedal's shoulder and walked into the darkness. Before he disappeared from view, Fedal shouted, "Wait! Martim!"

Martim continued to walk, until Fedal shouted, "I met with your father!"

And this caused him to stop and look over his neck, some measure of curiosity in his eyes.

"He—he seemed well," Fedal said, stuttering over his words as he tried to get them out in a hurry. "Your father is Roger, Johan's right hand man right? He—he is the one who helped Katherine's sister escape. And I met with him and—well, he seemed like he was doing well. Of course he's sad that you died, but he…he is keeping on with his head high. To make you proud of him. That's the impression I got, anyway. And…if I can still talk to you like this, is there a way for me to let you talk to him again? He's your dad, he might appreciate if…I mean, you might enjoy that too, I just…I don't know, I figured…"

Until now Martim had maintained an air of serenity about him, a sort of meditative quality about him where nothing could come across as a surprise. Yet here his mouth hung open for a moment, and he let out a small sound, then bit his trembling lips. "He is doing well? That…that makes me happy." He shook his head and once again said, more warmly than before, "You have a kind heart. Don't let them take it away from you."

And suddenly Fedal found himself back on the piste, disoriented, Johan still walking toward him. Was that a dream? He shook his head. Does it matter?

Time hadn't passed, I realized. What a frightening skill, The Unicorn Murders. It has tied Fedal the Hero to the void, in a way. The man was never tied to it before like Carr was, for he was brought to this world by Francisco, the God. He never had to walk down that path. The implications of this—they will have to wait. There was a match still going on.

I guess being a team player means doing my best, but also trusting the plans the other people on my side create, Fedal thought. I don't know if Martim is on my side—well, he said he wasn't. But Valle's plan isn't going to work at this rate…I'm going to have to call an audible.

Johan approached him with an extended hand—one surrounded by an ominous blue light. The same one he had used on Celle the Detective during their last meeting.

"You understand," Johan asked, gleefully, "what is going to happen now, surely?"

Fedal said nothing. Struggling isn't going to get me out of here in time.

Johan stuck his hand through Fedal's chest. There was no hole or impact produced by the motion, but the bright, shining light emanating from the man's hands intensified as he lifted Fedal high up in the air. The Hero did not think he could breathe much longer, and it was almost a relief when Johan tossed him aside.

"Skill Steal," Johan said slowly, "is a wonderful ability that I am happy to have. Thank you for your Heroic Rising—it was the last thing I needed. Now, my stats can increase themselves…even my Swordsmanship." And here, Johan looked straight at me. "Referee, the match is done, yes?"

I looked over at the field. Valle still hadn't emerged from the water, Max was bleeding out too much to move, the Executioner laid unconscious, and Fedal was on the ground, his skill stolen. There is no need to prolong this. "It—it is done. The matches are done. You are the winner, Johan."

"That means," Fedal said from the ground, "that the one on one Rule is no longer in effect, huh?"

Johan looked at him curiously when Fedal rose to his feet and dashed at him with an attack. Even from that distance, Johan's superior reflexes still allowed him to dodge. "Do you think that I'm going to lay around depressed just because I lost my Heroic Rising?" Fedal cried out. "That it defined me as a person? I'm going to show you what Fedal Norray can really do!"

"You pathetic—" Johan started, before a sudden eruption of water interrupted him.

Valle the King in Cresna flew out of the water, appearing healthier than he had been before Johan had stabbed him, a faint blue aura trailing after him like a light mist. Midair, I noticed, his HP had recovered to its max capacity—no, it had gone up!

Johan and I had the same realization—Valle went into the water on purpose to search for the Levelling Sphere that Carr tossed there earlier—the one he refused from the fake—!

From the air, Valle descended into a mighty clash, which Johan could not dodge from, being forced to block with Godslayer. This delay allowed Fedal to catch up to him and deliver a strike to his leg. Johan cursed and, having regained his leverage, started to gather his Swordsmanship once more.

It was here that a scream pieced the skies.

"JOOOOOHAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Carr burst through the wall of fire, a true demon in appearance, blade extended and piercing Johan from behind. Right at his heart. At this, Johan dropped his sword arm, allowing Valle as well to stab him. "C—Carr?" Johan cried out. "The fire, you—"

The fire did not prevent Carr's strike. Francisco's Rule echoed in all of our minds. Carr would not be injured today.

Here, Max joined them, using his Swordsmanship to push his feeble body forward and allowing his blade to Johan's throat. "This," Max managed to mutter, "is for Gilder."

With them all present, I could analyze their thoughts and plans in order. Valle had intended on wearing down Johan, and had purposefully been sent into the water to look for the Levelling Sphere Carr had tossed earlier. Then, he swam through the fire barrier, gravely injuring himself in the process, to let Carr know of their plan.

The fire damaged Valle of Cresna greatly, but he cared little since he could heal it with the Levelling Sphere, I thought. Still, the pain must have been something else. To be able to think that plan and keep at it…he was fantastic. The same could be said for Carr—Francisco's Rule had a poor phrasing, and likely was helping him with his injuries even now. Yet Carr didn't know that, and had burst through the wall of fire thinking only of killing Johan, a veritable battle demon emerging from the flames.

They could not all attack at once without breaking the Rules of the duel and possibly being punished by them. No, that was not it—even if they had all attacked at once, it was unlikely that they could defeat the mighty Johan. By ending the duel and allowing him to come close, Fedal managed to cause Johan to retreat, and at that very moment Valle of Cresna attacked him from the side, forcing him to stand still and block—giving Carr enough time to attack him from behind, and this allowed every other attack to connect.

It was a perfect assassination.

Well done, Carr, Johan thought. In his mind, only Carr had truly injured him, though I knew this to be false. You have done enough to kill a man. I can feel my life leaving my body now.

Yet, you have not done enough to kill a God.

Johan dropped his sword and reached for the God Sphere—and pulled it within himself.

It had begun.