Chapter 66: Chapter 66

As Jeffrey begins channelling energy, a black, smoky rift starting to unzip itself, manifesting, I ask, “So, what are the rules for this tournament?”

He pauses, thinking, before grinning. “Okay, so. First thing, death doesn’t count. Even if you die, it won’t cause you to lose any items, money, or anything. No penalties will be applied. However, if you die, you’re done. Your final ranking is dependent on how many victories you have before the end of the tournament. Each win is worth one point. Two points if you win in under five minutes. Also, the whole tournament is affected by an exp. boost right now, so you’ll make a killing if you’re good at PvP.

Second, you can use any weapons, fighting styles, skills, or items you’ve got as much as you want. It’s a no-holds-barred slugfest. Cheating is banned, though. No using exploits that aren’t actual game mechanics. If you get caught cheating, all your points get divided between the victims of your cheating. The more people you cheated against, the more the points are spread. Then you’ll be disqualified.

Now, onto the good stuff! Third, those who place in the top ten will each receive a powerful item, weapon or piece of armour of their choice, each of which are unique and utterly overpowered. Everyone who takes part will gain a title, ‘Grave Arena Gladiator’, while the overall winner gets the title, ‘Champion of Death’. There are also rare classes you can unlock during the tournament.

Fourth, you can choose to fight as a pair, or in solo matches. However, you only get to pick your teammate ONCE. For every other time, it’s randomised. If two or more people pick the same partner as you during the same match, lots will be drawn. The winner gets their partner of choice and the rest can pick again.

And that about covers it. Do you have any questions?”

I shake my head. “Nope, all sounds good to me. I can’t wait! Although, it sounds like it could be really brutal!”

Jeffrey grins wickedly. “Oh, it IS. My guildmates and I have been training for this for a month! Plus, if some of the people I know enter, it’s gonna be a bloodbath!”

I clench my fist, before stepping through the rift behind Jeffrey.  He turns. “So, singles battles, or doubles?”

I nod. “Singles, please. I’d like to do 1v1. I don’t really think I’m best for team matches.”

He gestures to one of two doors. “Through there, then, and get ready. You’ll be automatically summoned when you’re fighting. Seeya!”

I step through the door, into blackness. A screen flickers on, and a list of match-ups fills it. I recognize a few names, Clawdette, Genevieve, Bassan of the Wildmarsh… Randy’s on there, Sionnach and Marika, but no Ulged or Asteria. Mur’s there, too. I tap on Randy’s name, curious about how he’s doing. Judging by the names with lights next to them, they’re currently fighting.

 

Onscreen, Randy’s darting out of the way, his sword drawn, as he avoids a bolt of sickly crimson flame. His opponent is a spellcaster, clad in thick robes and a turban with their face covered.

From the looks of it, Randy’s not doing too bad, minor burns and patches of frost coating his armour aside. He flings a fan of knives, forcing the caster to raise a hand, conjuring a barrier to block the knives. Randy capitalizes on his opponent’s distraction, closing the distance, before activating a skill that causes him to appear in three places at once for an instant. A trio of flashing steel strikes, and the caster crumples, the floor beneath them stained a dark red.

He vanishes after a minute, leaving the arena empty. I watch a couple more matches, before I start to glow. Oh, hey, it must be my turn! I wonder who my first opponent will be…

I disappear from my waiting room, reappearing in the centre of the arena. A dude in gleaming plate, twirling a warhammer, a lazy grin on his face. “Don’t hold this against me, girly. Nothin’ personal, but I’m gonna be taking this match now.”

I shrug, waiting for the countdown. An announcer roars out. “Match number 6, we have two players going toe-to-toe in what promises to be a knock-down, drag-out slobberknocker of a bout! In silver, wielding a hammer that looks like it could weigh more than my happy ass, we have KARROS THE BREAKEEEERRRR!”

Karros waves his hammer, mugging for the crowd as he preens.

“And in a suit of black, we have someone who’s making a name for herself in the streaming circuit! Looks like we have a celebrity in the house tonight! Put your hands, wings, and various appendages together and welcome SKY-QUEEN… KETRIIIIIINNNN!!!”

I thrust my swordspear towards the ceiling, thumping the bottom of my shield against the floor as I unfurl my wings for a moment. Karros’ expression of easy confidence falters a little.

“AAAAND… FIGHT!”

The instant the go-ahead is given, I activate Sky Hammer, rocketing towards the Breaker, his swing going wild and sailing over my head as I slam my shield into him. He skids back, having caught the worst with his shoulder. With a roar, he barrels towards me and brings the head of his hammer round in a scything arc into where my torso had been a moment before. I hop back in time to avoid the first blow, deflect the second, and force Karros to back off with a slash of my swordspear.

The next attack comes as Karros begins pounding the dirt floor, sending up huge clouds of dust and sand. I smirk, before beating my wings, blowing the cloud of obscurement back. A series of spluttering coughs and swearwords fills the air, and I take my chance. Leaping upwards with another swift beat of my wings, I plunge down at the silhouette in the centre of the dust cloud, bringing my spear down in a perfect lunge, my whole weight behind it. There’s a lot more resistance than I’d expected, but not enough to halt me, as I land, crouching over the other player, my swordspear pinning him to the ground like a butterfly in some weird collection.

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“AND THAT’S IT, FOLKS! Sky-Queen Kettrin has pulled a win out of the bag and earned herself her first two points! Stay tuned to see the next match; we’ll get the arena cleaned up! Thanks for playing, Karros, better luck next time!”

I glow briefly, and find myself back in the small room with the screen again. That was… easier than I thought. If he’d been faster, or had some way to shut me down, that could definitely have gone completely different.

The next match starts, but I don’t know either of the participants. I still watch, evaluating their skills and fighting styles. Every bit of information I can glean will help me in this tournament. The next match, then the next, each one teaching me something. I devour the information, my stream still going.

Oh dear, they’re roasting the poor guy I beat in my first match. Genevieve and Mur thrash their opponents, Bassan struggles with a Skyborne, before managing to ground them and beat the stuffing out of them. I wince, chatting light-heartedly with my viewers, before my next match starts.

Both my challenger and I appear in the centre of the arena, and I study my opponent. A tall, lithe-looking human, her armour made of leather. Damn, my lightning won’t be as effective against that. Her weapons are a pair of long, curved daggers. I nod slowly.

“Executioner, right?”

She shrugs. “You got it…” her voice is husky, and she’s got a mask over her face. Going full ninja, I see.

The announcer goes ham once again. “Match 15, folks, and I have to say, every single match has been a joy to watch! To those who’ve only just tuned in, we have Sky-Queen Kettrin, the popular new streamer who’s taken the gaming community by storm! She’s a powerful combatant, and that big weird spear is quite the brutal weapon!”

A cheer breaks out as the watching audience shows their appreciation, before quieting down.

“Facing her down is a girl who’s proven that her blades aren’t just for show! A cool customer who dances around her enemies before cutting them down without a second thought! We have LARKE, THE NIGHTINGALE!”

Larke twirls her knives, crouching.

“ANNNND… BEGIN!”

The Executioner lunges, and I bring my shield up, activating Sky Hammer. My mass is greater than hers due to my heavier armour and equipment, and she hisses as my shield smashes her backwards. With a flip, she digs her twin blades into the ground, arresting her skidding roll, before she bolts forward, the sand puffing up with each step. She’s REALLY fast, too. I’m not geared for speed! This could be bad!

I leap up into a wingbeat, as feel Larke’s blade clangs off my greave. I feel a trickle of blood running down my shin. It doesn’t seem like she managed to get a proper hit in. My vision blurs a little and I realise she didn’t need to get a perfect hit on me. She’s poisoned her blades! Shit!

Taking the breathing room, I keep flying in erratic circles, to prevent her from using any ranged abilities with any guarantee of accuracy. Judging by the glare I get, I’d put the kibosh on her doing just that.

Larke begins charging up an unknown ability. I don’t know what it is, but I rise a few more feet, almost hitting the top of the barrier.  I begin charging my own ability, using my shield to cover my spearhead. Lightning flickers around the metal.

With a cry, Larke rockets up into the air, her blades held wide, and I feel them sink into my shoulder and hip. She kicks herself back, preparing to swan-dive back down, but I unleash Thunder Cannon. With nowhere else for the electricity to go, the full force of the bolt slams into the Executioner, swatting her out of the sky.

 I plummet after her, then overtake, dropping my shield and bringing my swordspear around in a wide, arcing slash. I land with a thump, followed by Larke landing with two. I drop to my knees, panting, as I scrabble for my shield, the poison eating through my health.

I netted another point for that, though, which is at least something. Sitting back against the wall in my viewing room, I let out a shuddering breath. “Phew... That was tougher than I thought it would be. Speedy players are apparently where my playstyle is truly tested. Luckily, she didn’t have more HP, or that could’ve gone way worse for me…”

 

The next couple of matches pass, before I’m called on to fight again. This one is much more my style, and I dominate, scoring a further two points, settling into a routine. Study both opponents in each match, develop countermeasures, and chat with my mods and members of my chat. I even see a few clever players get around the 1v1 rules by using their monster companions. Hmm…

I watch the next match, and smirk as I see Clawdette appear in the arena. She’s carrying something almost as big as her, which she pats affectionately as her opponent, an Arabian-themed dude with a buckler and scimitar. He starts riling up the crowd as his name is called out, banging his shield with the pommel of his curved sword, while Clawdette fiddles with her burden, pulling on a lever, twisting a dial, and then raising it to her shoulder. Two stubby arms snap out, and I watch, my eyes widening, as she whistles.

The scimitar-wielding swordsman turns, and she pulls the trigger of her massive crossbow, pinning him to the arena wall with a thick, stubby bolt. The ‘match’ is already over. She grins, picking herself up from where the recoil threw her, and vanishes. The announcer pauses, before clearing his throat. “A-anyway, we have another match coming right up!  Ladies, gentlemen, degenerates and everyone who loves a good fight! Please, raise your voices… for RANDY! VERSUS! MARIKAAAAAAA!”

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