For the first time since gaining access to Blade & Battle, I took a day off.
I still trained with Esko for a good part of Sunday, but even my mentor — who’d been so energetic the previous morning — preferred to have a post-lunch siesta rather than send me through another round of the circuit or the merciless beatings he called sparring.
We were back with a vengeance on the Monday, preparing for the one-on-one at midnight. The Government operated in a slightly different time zone, which set the fight at around 11:00pm.
I’d be on at 10:30pm, just in case. With any luck, The Safe House would still be standing, and I wouldn’t log in just to be ambushed by five angry [Mages].
After the Government released their report, happily labelling me as an ‘Insurgent’ for all the world to see, I’d thought they had it in for me. That morning, however, I realised they were doing me a great kindness.
I had no chance of defeating the entire Asterian Army. That much was clear. Therefore, by enforcing their one-on-one ‘tiebreaker’, I was able to loaf off for a few days before having a crack at just one representative, rather than five thousand or so.
The ‘Insurgent’ part wasn’t nice, but I figured a shit-covered diamond is still a diamond.
Annette and Duri gave me some last-minute advice in the group chat.
A: [Good luck tonight! Remember to get on nice and early so you don’t miss the start.]
O: [Yes moooom]
D: [And errr, hold your spear straight, I dunno]
O: [Hadn’t thought of that. Shall do!]
Joey didn’t send me a message, but that didn’t surprise me. I was still awaiting an update on the meet-up we’d half planned.
The day slipped by faster than it should’ve, barely giving me time to polish the skills I’d learnt over the previous two days. I could feel my movements becoming smoother, more controlled, although I still had a lot to learn before I’d impress someone like Esko. I kept thinking I’d catch him out with some sudden stance change or experimental move, but he’d expose my tomfoolery without fail, mostly resulting with me on the ground and a nasty bruise.
“Do you think I’m ready?” I asked during our final practice session.
“Absolutely no clue, Ollie. I haven’t kept up with B&B for a long time — I don’t know how good the Asterians are.”
He wasn’t the best with reassurance. ‘Practice’ was the only language he seemed to speak.
“I was going to ask if you’d watch the fight, but I’m guessing you don’t have a Pod to spectate with. Might not even be spectators — I heard that the Government isn’t too keen on people seeing the goings-on in the graduate zones.”
“No Pod, no worries, Ollie. Now show me a few overhand jabs, let’s keep this going until dinner.”
We did just that, though my mind was mostly elsewhere, trying to decide who they could possibly send out against me now that the Sentinel was dead. If it was one of those ‘Seven Stakes’ characters Braith had told me about, all this practice would be for naught. By his description, a flick of their little toe could disintegrate me on the spot.
It was entirely possible that the Asterians could’ve shipped someone in over the three-day period. After all, the people driving the carts of supplies had to come from somewhere.
No point worrying. It’ll all be over in a couple hours, for better or worse.
Esko stayed for dinner, where we both shovelled down generous helpings of chicken lasagne. I was doing my best to quell the nerves and drown the butterflies, but it didn’t help.
A quick peek out the front curtains revealed a long line of cars parked on the road, dozens of reporters hovering an inch away from our property. Some of them even brought stepladders to see over the crowd. They’d discovered the rear entrance, though they had to stand on our property to see anything. Most weren’t stupid enough to trespass.
Rumour had it the Peacers were relentless with prosecuting that kind of thing.
“Alright Ollie, I’d say a prayer for you, but I don’t think my connection with God is too good these days. Em, you wanna give it a shot?”
Dale took a final swig from his beer and cracked open another. The guy was capable of downing a six-pack with absolutely no apparent effects to his persona or capabilities. It was only around the twelve-drink mark that he’d start to muddle his words or fall asleep on the couch.
“I don’t think we need to pray,” Mom said. “I think Ollie’s done everything he can, and if he wins it will be because of that, not because of divine intervention.”
I laughed at her cheesy line. “Thanks Ma. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind if some deity chose to help me out a little. It all counts.”
Esko was onto his third serve, thoroughly enjoying our hospitality while he could. I think if we’d offered him the spare bedroom, he would’ve taken up residence and moved all his junk in immediately.
“You’re no longer a maggot, that’s for sure. Good stuff kid.”
“Cheers Esko. And thanks Dale for cooking, I’m gunna get cracking — I gotta talk to some people before the fight.”
I cleared my plate, threw it in the dishwasher and tossed down a final glass of water. Heading up to the AT-2000, I lay down and just…breathed. It was comfortable in there — as you’d hope — but it was also quiet. My life had been full of non-stop simulation for almost three weeks, and I just needed a moment of silence to catch up.
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Remember everything. Don’t miss a step.
It was easier said than done, but I put on the nodes and immersed, ready to give it a shot.
--Immersing, please don’t disconnect--
Otto’s Pub was still standing, which was the first piece of good fortune. His purple plant prospered in its barrel, happily crawling up the wall and finding handholds — plantholds? — in the cracks and crevices. I got to my feet and pushed on the wall, similar to how I’d seen Otto do so.
It took a few tries, but eventually the door whirred open and I stepped through into the lab. Smoke and other fumes gathered on the mud ceiling, though I could see now that Otto had installed camouflaged vents in two of the corners, finally heeding my warning.
For the first time since the lab was born, a pleasant smell wafted through, like fresh orange peel and vanilla.
“Otto! Got any juice for me? I’ve got about half an hour until the fight.”
He twirled around, his eyes sunken and fatigue evident from the way he drooped all but two of his tentacles.
“Ollie. Hi. You’re killing me with this invisibility job. I thought it was easy, but then I read the recipe…It’s done, but I’m only about seventy percent sure it’s functional.”
“Seventy percent better than I could’ve done. Thanks Otto, grab a whiskey or something and rest.”
I took the potion and slipped it into my pocket, slightly concerned about Otto’s estimation. Being invisible was a significant part of my plan — I wasn’t going to wait until I was on death’s door to drink it like some fairy-tale redemption story, this bad boy was going down straight away.
The next thirty minutes were hell. I kept waiting for an atomic bomb to detonate over The Safe House, ceiling my fate in the moments before the battle. I considered disconnecting until there was only a minute to go, but I didn’t trust my luck. Too many things could go wrong.
Then, abot ten minutes earlier than I expected, I received the notification.
Oliver Matanor [Hoplite]
Teleportation Request – (Bill’s Yard Plaza)
--Initiating—
This is it.
I did one last check. My shield was strapped on, my spear was in my hand, and my javelin hadn’t flown out from its scabbard since the last seven times I’d checked. My final adjustment was to take the invisibility potion from the jumble of other potions and slip it into a pocket by itself. The last thing I wanted was to fumble around examining liquids whilst a spiked club completed its journey to my face.
A blue light surrounded me, and I was gone.
--Teleportation Complete—
I stood separated from the crowd, alone in the dust outside the plaza. On the other side was the mass of Asterians, jeering and shouting abuse. I could see players sitting on the sidelines, some of them less interested in me than they were the dust on their boots. A lot of people had lost days of grinding for this event, and they just wanted to return to their usual life.
My side of the plaza was empty. The citizens of Bill’s Yard were either too frightened to step foot into enemy territory, or too busy cleaning up the mess the Asterians had made. I stepped forward, readying myself while my unknown opponent made their final preparations.
Then the crowd parted, and they stepped forward. My breath caught in my throat for a moment as I realised how foolish I was.
Claire.
I’d spent the weekend practicing against daggers, swords, spears, clubs — basically anything that anyone could swing at me aside from a cat.
But arrows were off the list.
Not only was I unprepared for the fight, but Claire was bedecked in armour that I recognised from the weapon store’s secret room. It wasn’t one Tren had told me about, but it was undoubtedly special.
“Begin!”
There was no time to talk before the match, no matter how little it would have done to help me.
Claire nocked an arrow almost instantly while I jammed my shield hand in my pocket and dug around for the potion.
“Arrow Storm!”
I dived to the side. I’d never heard her use the ability, but a ‘storm’ indicated something coming at me from the sky. Sure enough, a blot of arrows appeared above me, their density throwing a shadow. I bolted, holding my shield above me while I downed the potion.
“Blessing of Artemis!” Claire yelled.
Whereas [Arrow Storm’s] effect had been easy to deduce, this one was not. I tried my best to remember my history, but all I could remember about the Greek goddess was something about the moon, and a story involving Zeus getting friendly with someone he shouldn’t have.
Common theme with that guy.
It turns out that Artemis was into wolves, because that’s exactly what Claire’s next three arrows turned into. My potion was taking effect, though it took its time. I couldn’t see my feet when I looked down, but my breastplate was in full view, as was my shield and spear.
Oh shit. I’m already invisible. It doesn’t extend to my equipment.
I should’ve got the instruction manual from Otto before I used the potion. Unless I stripped naked and dropped my weapons, this wouldn’t help one bit.
Shucks.
The wolves paced, and I launched at one, catching it in the throat. It disintegrated instantly, giving me some confidence. The other two took its place, and Claire continued spraying me with arrows.
“I had to do it, Ollie. You don’t understand.”
“You never told me why! How could I understand?”
I lost focus, and a wolf almost took me out. I batted it to the side and speared it through the side.
Two down, one to go.
I ignored the final wolf and made a sudden dash for Claire.
[Dash] [Spear Charge]
My [Dash] helped me close in fast, darting past the wolf and lunging for Claire. I was quick, but she was quicker, springing out of the way as I caught the edge of her thigh.
She activated some new ability, pulling back on the string and charging up her shot. The arrow glowed bright blue, and the tip rattled as it gathered power. When she let go, she aimed at my feet, and I immediately found out why.
The detonation sent me flying, almost out of the plaza. I was airborne for at least a couple seconds, landing with a crunch on the final wolf, skewering it on the way down.
“Don’t get up, Ollie! I don’t get the money unless I win!”
So this is about money.
I got to my feet, wincing at a pain in my hip. “You don’t get money? Look around you, Claire, this isn’t the Elthen Fields. We’re all in need of money — doesn’t mean you should destroy a town for it!”
My shield went up, and I sprinted forward, zigzagging to throw off her aim. I mustn’t have zagged enough, because a white-tipped arrow pierced through my shield and slammed into my breastplate. I gasped with pain as it punctured into my chest.
I sunk to my knees, searching my pocket for a vial.
I’d given my HP potion to Tren, and never restocked. Instead, I slurped down a blue potion, though it was a bit late to refresh my abilities.
Claire steadied her aim for the final blow, still at least ten meters away. I pushed off the ground, my character’s Strength sending me into a standing position.
[Arc Strike]
This distance was perfect for me, especially with a standing target.
“Don’t, Ollie!”
I threw my javelin, and she shot her arrow. The crowd roared in my ears, and I snuck a glance back at my side of the plaza. None of the NPCs would watch me as I lost their town to the Asterians.
My javelin flew wide, and Claire’s arrow did not. It hit low on my breastplate, folding me over and sending searing pain through my abdomen. The 320 armour wasn’t enough.
But I was still alive, just barely, with one trick left in my arsenal.
I clutched my stomach with my shield arm, raising my spear in an overhand grip. Like Esko had said, {The Glass Cannon} was lighter than my javelin, and evenly balanced along the length of the weapon. With my character’s Strength stat added in, it felt like throwing a feather.
My run up was short — two painful steps — but I tossed the spear with everything I had left, missing Claire by a couple meters.
On purpose.
She dropped her gaze to my weapon as it landed a couple meters to her side, just as Esko had done to me.
A mistake.
[Dash] [Shield Wall]