With Luke’s interference, neither Arya’s nor Spiros’s opponents lasted long, leaving the three alone on the platform. Elated grins split all three of their faces as they faced each other. It was a small thing, but they were all in the top five of the tournament. Luke had some confidence in himself, but he could see that neither Arya nor Spiros had really thought they’d make it this far.

Actually, Spiros might have. The guys just built different. Competing with someone who’ll do anything for his goals is hard.

“So… how are we doing this?” Spiros asked, a challenging grin on his face, his spear raised in front of him, ready to defend, and his eyes fluttering between Luke and Arya. “Free for all?”

Arya, a grin on her face, twirled her dagger. “No. Two of us fight, while the third defends in case those two make a move. Then the winner fights the remaining–”

Yeah, we’re not going to do that. Luke thought incredulously.

“Hold up. No. We made it to the final round, and yeah, this is a competition, but let’s not lose focus. Ella and Thesues are still fighting, which means they’re distracted. If we throw our weapons now, all we need to do is hold on until the clock runs out, and that’s–”

“If we agree to that,” Spiros interrupted, “you win. That sword of yours can fly faster than any of us can. I would rather take my chance and fight you. Isn’t that what we agreed to?”

Luke clutched his chest in mock hurt. “Spiros, that was before. I won’t put myself in between you and your one true love. We’re friends, and that would be a very assholish thing to do. How can you even think so little of me? Besides, I only cared about finishing in the top ten so my sponsor could,” Luke shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to delve into his agreement with Cyzicus. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I got what I came here for, and I’m not gonna be a villain in your love story for the sake of a prize, and I think Arya won’t either.”

Arya just grinned at the pair of them. “I suppose Luke has a point.”

“Oh.” Spiros scratched the back of his head. “Thanks. I’ll uh make this up to you. Both of you–”

“No need. Anyway,” Maximus floated out from beside Luke and hung in the air between the three of them, “I can keep things stuck to my sword with mana. If you’re both okay with it…”

Luke started laying down his plan. It was relatively straightforward. He’d stick both of their weapons onto Maximus, fly them as far away from the platform as he could, and do his best to avoid the notice of the divine children while he was at it. There was one hiccup, though.

“Who finishes second?” Arya asked.

Luke carefully considered his answer. His quest dictated that he place second, and he could force the issue, as he doubted that Arya would protest. It was his sword that was going to carry theirs, after all.

But that’s… kinda scummy. Hmm.

Even if Arya had decided not to compete against Spiros for first place, it didn’t mean she shouldn’t compete against Luke for second. On the surface, his cause was much less noble, and he would never admit that placing second was a Quest given by the Seed.

There are also prizes and the quest to consider. Fourth and third place get a customized Arcana manual promised to be effective throughout the Saint tier. Second place gets a pocket dimension, only detectable by gods. First place… I know Spiros gets a Zeus-approved date with Helan, but we never learned the prize for everyone else.

Hmm.

Luke would be a liar if he said the Arcana Manuals didn’t tempt him. They were a lower prize than the pocket dimension and not what the Seed wanted him to have but paired with the Paragon’s Path and his ability to store mana as Stat Points, they were a way to climb through the ranks in peace. It would be like having a manasink again, but suitable for two levels.

Except… I’ve already found a few ways to increase my Arcana stat naturally, and I bet I’ll keep finding more. Besides, with the Seed, as long as I have enemies to kill, I’ll always have a way to increase my Arcana.

The pocket dimension, though, while no good against gods, would allow me to hide from everyone else if needed. With the Seed’s existence known, can I give that kind of protection up?

But bullying Arya out of it isn’t the way to go. Seed or no seed, I’m not gonna be an asshole to my friends.

Luke turned to Arya. “Have you ever heard about rock-paper-scissors?”

She stared at him blankly, and taking that as his cue, Luke explained the rules.

“You want to decide this based on a children's game?” She asked. The question, ‘Are you for real?’ was left unsaid.

“No,” Luke shook his head. “We all learned the same techniques in the tomb. This… will decide the winner based on who’s progressed them the most.” Luke said, and it was true as well. With their predictive abilities, they could react to every twitch an enemy made in the middle of combat. Rock, papers, scissors was outside of that purview because neither of them was going for a kill, and that would drastically reduce the input they received. Yet both could stretch the Truth at the core of the Technique for purposes other than what they were meant for.

Luke just hoped he hadn’t underestimated Arya.

Death is inevitable, killing is easy, and I foretell the end.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I wonder if she has a phrase like that, too?

She did go down a different path than I did by making even the most minor cut from her fatal, while I doubled down on actually hitting the person. So, in theory, I should have the advantage. If I’m not mistaken, her technique is still at the Warrior tier. So I have the advantage there.

For a second, Luke felt that he might be taking advantage of her with this particular resolution despite his intentions before deciding he was being silly. If they did end up fighting, he would hold the same advantages, and while he knew better than to underestimate Arya, he also knew that, for the moment, at least he was stronger than her.

Just because I think she will lose doesn’t mean I’m not giving her a fair shake. Besides, there isn’t a better proxy for battle that I can think of than this. Not unless we start flipping coins, but fuck that. This is still a contest, not a lottery.

Arya frowned, no doubt weighing the pros and cons for herself. However, it didn’t take her long to decide, and she looked at him challengingly. “Fine, but best of three.”

“Agreed. Let’s send our weapons off first, though. We’ve already been standing here too long, and while those two don’t look like they're gonna stop anytime soon, we probably shouldn’t risk it.” Luke said, nodding towards where Ella and Theseus were still battling.

The pair had drifted far enough away from the platform that they were no more than specks, but both were capable of long-range attacks.

“Right,” Spiros nodded. His ring flashed, and a slim dagger appeared in his hands. “This should be easier than sticking my spear to your sword.”

A moment later, Arya produced her dagger.

Luke held them against the flat of his blade, one on each side, and gripped them firmly with his mana. Giving his sword an experimental shake to ensure neither slipped, he nodded in satisfaction. Then, gripping the pommel of his sword, he changed the buff he got from Maximus from constitution to strength.

Immediately, he began to feel weaker, and the burns Moros had reflected onto him began to throb. Jaw clenched, Luke ignored the pain and took a deep breath.

Alright.

Firmly planting one foot on the platform to give him maximum leverage, he lifted his leg and wound himself up like a baseball pitcher with his golden blade pointing straight down, perpendicular to the platform, the pommel caught between his fingers while the sword dangled freely.

Taking another breath, he activated his technique and narrowed in on Ella and Theseus. If he picked the wrong moment, they would shoot his sword down. And while Luke was confident that he could keep Maximus in the air, he wasn’t optimistic that Arya and Spiros’s daggers wouldn’t be lost.

It didn’t take long for the perfect opportunity to arise. Ella had summoned a massive spear of rainbow light, which Theseus dodged. Luke’s ability told him the son of Poseidon would close the distance, and Ella would be forced to defend.

Neither of them would be able to afford a distraction.

Just one more sec– NOW.

Luke lunged forward with all his strength. His arm followed through in a perfect arc, and when it was right at its zenith, he followed through with his wrist.

A shock wave radiated through the air when the sword left Luke’s hand.

Not enough.

Focusing on his mana, Luke willed it out and around the sword. It wasn’t enough to make it go much faster, but it would alleviate drag, hopefully for long enough that neither of the divine children could keep up.

Fortunately, Luke had timed his throw perfectly. If either of them noticed his throw, they didn’t react. Only when the sword was well out of their range did they break apart and try to blast it with light and water, respectively.

With his technique still focused on the two, Luke could react and maneuver his sword just in time.

To his surprise, though, once it became clear that neither of them could catch up with Maximus, they didn’t continue their pursuit, nor did they come back and try to eliminate the three still on the platform.

Instead, Ella created a shield of light to cover her back and took off as fast as she could down the range. A half step behind her, Theseus followed straight after her, harassing her with water jets every inch of the way. Unfortunately, the son of Poseidon was outmatched in a contest of pure speed, and soon, Ella had left him to bite the dust.

Theseus, unwilling to give up, doggedly kept up his pursuit, and when it became clear that he wouldn’t double back, Luke turned to Arya.

“So, rock, paper, scissors, and you choose your weapon on shoot.”

“I know, you said that like five times already.” Said Arya.

“Yeah, yeah. Spiros, you be the judge in case we need one.”

“Right.” Spiros nodded.

Luke and Arya squared up. Each of them watched the other with an intensity unbefitting of a childhood game.

Much to his relief, Luke won the first round.

Then, to his contrition, he lost the second.

Arya grinned at him, smug satisfaction practically oozing from every orifice on her face. Jaw set in determination, Luke held his fist for their third bout.

It was a draw.

“OOF.” Spiros wiped clean the sweat on his brow.

Come on. Come on. I can’t seriously be losing this!

“Rock.”

“Paper.”

“Scissor.”

“Shoot!”

Arya revealed a rock, and Luke’s fist unraveled into paper.

The tension left his body, and with his heart pounding in exhilaration, Luke whooped in joy. Spiros slapped his back in congratulations, and Arya stared in disbelief at her fist.

I did it! It’s been a long and complicated journey, but I did it.

The final minutes of the tournament went perfectly. No one could catch up to Maximus in the air, and when thirty seconds were left in the round, both Theseus and Ella released their weapons.

Ten seconds later, Luke made good on his promise. With a flex of his will, he released Spiros’s weapon the furthest from the platform, backtracked just slightly, dropped Arya’s dagger, and rested his sword between the two.

The moment the golden blade touched the ground, orange-red light flickered across Luke’s vision, and they were back on top of the pyramid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winners of the five-thousand three-hundred and fifty-eighth Tournament of Olympus,” Hephaestus announced.

A crowd packed with nervous gods, amused cultivators, and bewildered mortals clapped politely.