Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Enkindle

Chapter 3: Enkindle

 

As he sat in the waiting room, Parth couldn’t stop himself from fiddling with the gauntlets. The proving ground was supposed to test the adaptability of the voyagers. Hence why he was now awaiting his turn. It hadn’t even been an hour since his bonding with the gauntlets, but here he was.

It greatly confused him why things were set up this way. The dungeon was forcing them to fight, and the D’Raacs were helping them out. The way this was set up with teams and advisors and whatnot made little sense to him. He got that they were spending a lot to ensure that the victims had a leg up when embarking into the dungeon. Just making a spectacle out of it alone might have been enough. All other complications were not needed. Maybe others would be pissed at the spectacle portion of it alone. But that was an aspect of fighting he was used to. He ultimately blamed Roul for not telling him enough and pushing it off to the advisor he will be assigned after his showing.

Roul was right about one thing though, Parth did get an imprint of sorts when he had bonded with the artifact. He instinctually knew what it was capable of, at the bare minimum. He didn't have a manual or any step-by-step instructions, but he knew what it could do. Anything more than that was left for the training phase once a patron picked him.

He would be fighting in a few minutes. Against whom, he did not know. The element of surprise hadn't been something he had dealt with in the last few years. For his professional bouts, all his opponents were decided beforehand and he underwent intense training camps tailored for the opposition. This took him back to his amateur tournament days.

Unlike his boxing bouts, one aspect of the pre-match jitters was completely taken out. There was no concept of victory or failure in this scenario. Win or lose, he would still be picked up by some patron. The stakes were geared more toward his performance. He remembered his last fight, where he had nothing to lose. The feeling he felt now was something eerily similar to that.

One thing that people overlooked about combat sports was that fear was an integral part of it. No matter the aggression, no matter the skill level, almost every single fighter out there had a part of them that was afraid right before a fight. How much, depended on the fighter themselves. Sometimes it was the fear of failure while at other times it was the fear of getting hurt. The instinct for self-preservation was a constant companion after all. More so, for a fighter. Yet, they fought on. 

The fear transitioned into confidence and determination as the fight drew closer. It differed from person to person. Mike Tyson had said that for him, that moment was when he stepped into the ring. For Parth, it was always when the fight started. His fear of humiliation had long since disappeared since that was the only thing he had experienced in his professional bouts. Fear of failure was eliminated in this instance as he would get picked regardless of the result. The only thing that remained was the fear of pain. That didn’t matter to him anymore.

Despite the strangeness of this whole experience, Parth could now take solace in the fact that he was in familiar territory once more. He took deep breaths as his feet began tapping the floor in his usual rhythm. He closed his eyes and leaned back, wishing that he had access to his playlist. He should have downloaded the songs as he used to, instead of relying completely on streaming services. It felt weird sitting in the waiting room without his headphones. Some pre-fight rituals were sacred to most fighters. Well, what did he have to lose? It was not like any of these superstitions helped him win a professional match before this. All he had were victories during his amateur days. Maybe it was time to change things up.

As if agreeing with his thoughts, the buzzer blared overhead, signaling his turn in the ring.

He took another look at the gauntlets covering his arms up to his elbows. The elegant design pleased him greatly. It exuded a comfortable heat and his whole body felt warm. From the outside, the contraptions looked heavy, but he couldn’t feel the weight at all. It was as if they were a part of his arms now.

Without dallying, he got up and exhaled a prolonged breath that felt more like steam than ordinary air. He could feel the temperature rising in and around him, but it did not affect him in any way. All a part and parcel of the gauntlets. He couldn't wait to see what his relic could do. As he banged the gauntlets off of each other twice, a shower of sparks sprung from the contraptions and began swirling around him in a mesmerizing pattern.

It cut an intimidating image as he strode with purpose, fiery sparks dancing around him. The eerie glow from the gauntlets added to the gravitas. This may not be his dream fight, but it was one he was finally confident about. He would not settle for another abysmal performance. Not anymore.

Within a minute he passed the hallway and stood in front of the door that stood between him and his opponent. He did not know who, or what it was. All he knew was that he would give his opponent the fight of their life.

The door opened with a hiss, and he promptly stepped into the room. It was a brightly lit gymnasium with plenty of maneuverable space. Peachy. The floor was simple concrete. On the other hand, the walls and the ceiling looked like they were made out of some reinforced metal.

He knew that the place was rigged with cameras and all sorts of devices needed to measure his performance. He had been told all about it while he was in the waiting room. There may be no live audience, but the recording of this fight would go to all the patrons and advisors.

As he walked towards the center of the arena, a crisp female voice began talking over the speakers.

“Voyager Parthasarathy, congratulations on successfully bonding with your artifact. We are glad to have the new Pygilist in our midst.”

Parth made a mental note to talk with whoever became his advisor. He’d rather them not butcher his name in every announcement. He had a shorter nickname for a reason. 

“Your objective is to fight a sentry golem. The fight will be halted after ten minutes if no conclusion is reached. Your showing will begin in thirty seconds. We wish you success,” declared the voice.

An overhead screen began counting down at the same time the door on the far end opened.

He gulped as he saw the thing that began walking towards him from the open door. It was an eight-foot-tall anthropoid made out of stone. He briefly wondered whether they had animated a statue, or whether it had other mechanical apparatus inside. The golem – as they called it – was masterfully carved to look like an armored warrior.

Parth was startled for a second as he took in the sight of the golem.

It did not stick completely to the rock motif. A powder blue light was emanating from the minor gaps in the armor. Parth was familiar with the light, as he had seen the same thing in the magical weapons that the soldiers wielded. That meant that there was a crystal core somewhere inside, which powered the whole thing. Although, he could not guess where it was just by visual cues.

His heart rate elevated immediately, as he realized that he was in for a hard slog. This was no ordinary opponent. If he was not careful, the thing would absolutely demolish him. All it would take is a good punch to crack some of his bones. He reevaluated his fight plan at once.

He was scared. He wouldn’t deny that. Yet, at the same time, a part of him was excited. The newfound heat of his mana surged within him once again, responding to his agitated state. He looked at his gauntlets and felt a reassurance that seemed foreign to him. It was as if whatever fear he felt was being gradually burned away.

Thankfully, the golem did not have a weapon. Although, it had a tail-like appendage on the back. The structure of the appendage was smooth and did not have any spiky protrusions, so he was thankful for that. There were silver linings to this. It could have had six arms like the D’Raacs. That would have been a nightmare to fight. Since they called it a sentry golem, he was sure that there were other types of golems out there that emulated the D’Raacs.

Either way, things were not as bad as they could have been. So he calmed himself down and sized up his opponent properly. It would be a tough fight. Yet, it was not unsalvageable.

You are reading story Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai] at novel35.com

The countdown was blaring over the speakers, but matching that noise were the loud thumps that accompanied the golem’s footsteps. That made it pretty clear that the thing was heavy. Half-hearted hits would not do anything to it. He would need to pick and choose his shots more carefully.

Right as the timer whittled down to the last ten seconds, the golem halted its approach and took a combat stance. 

In response, he took his orthodox stance. Left foot forward, both hands up. His left hand was leading a bit while the right was closer to the body. His body itself was turned a bit towards the right, blocking off any avenues of a direct hit to the torso. He bent his knees a bit and got into position.

The sight of the black gauntlets covering his hands did little to cool down his trepidation. It did bolster him a bit that he wasn't walking into this empty-handed.

Parth took a deep breath as his heart began hammering in its cage. The countdown was almost over.

Three.

Two.

One.

There was no bell signaling the start of the fight. Yet, it had begun.

He didn’t move. He stood still on his toes, waiting for the golem to take a step. He wasn’t going to rush or probe unnecessarily with this sort of a mismatch.

Parth barely scraped a respectable six feet in height, while the golem was approximately two feet taller than him. It had a bigger range. So, he had to get closer. He had to go for counters. The only way to land solid hits would be to get inside its guard. His mind went through all these thoughts in a fraction of a second, as he kept his eyes peeled for an opportunity.

A few seconds passed, and it didn’t look like the golem was going to make a move.

He took a step slowly, guard still up. There was no reaction from the thing. It was an artificial being. There were no emotions on its face for him to gauge. He even wondered for a second whether the thing had malfunctioned. Nonetheless, he took another careful step.  

This time, the reaction was immediate. The moment Parth was in range, the golem swung its massive arm at him.

He ducked the hit and took another step forward, to get into range. The golem responded by swinging at him once more. He slipped past the punch and dashed in, finally within punching range.

As he prepared to hit it with a right hook, his eyes bugged out and he leaned back at once, dodging the stony knee that almost took out his chin.

The unexpected move knocked his rhythm, and he did not hesitate to jump a few steps back. He was breathing faster, his adrenaline spiked due to the blow to his face that he dodged by inches. It was very close. A stone knee to the chin would have knocked him out or disoriented him completely.

He expected the golem to capitalize on the opportunity and go on the offensive. But it seemed like it was content standing its ground and waiting for him to come within its range.

Parth mentally cursed himself for unconsciously expecting his opponent to just box. There were no rules to this fight. Everything was permitted. He hadn’t really thought about using his legs as weapons. He wouldn’t do it now. He wasn’t trained enough for that. Doing it half-cocked against a moving mass of rocks was asking for his bones to break. He will stick to what he knows, but he would be on the lookout for strategies he wasn’t familiar with.

Once he finished centering himself, he stepped back into its range and immediately weaved away from a sweeping punch that came his way. The next instant, the golem kept the punch going and twisted its whole body with a speed belying its stature. 

He instinctually put his guard up and was rewarded for it the next second. He could see the tail swipe in his peripheral vision right before it slammed onto his raised arms with full force.

The resounding clang due to the clash was deafening. He got bodily flung a good distance away. Despite the force of the blow, he was not disoriented, and he managed to land on his feet. He slid a few feet backward due to the force, but he was fine.

He expected his arms to have fallen off due to the sheer force of the hit. But nothing had happened. There was not a single scratch on the gauntlets. Even despite the forced landing, neither his arms nor his legs hurt. As he glared at the golem, he once again felt the wellspring of energy inside of him surging in tandem with his emotions. The mana was flowing inside him, saturating his entire being. He felt stronger, and if such a hit didn’t hurt him, he could fight more confidently. This was a feeling he could get used to.

“Just gonna stand there and wait, eh?" he muttered as he watched the golem. It was rooted to its spot, waiting for him to approach once more.

That would not do. He aimed to at least move it out of that spot within the next minute.

He got back into stance, consciously trying to manipulate the wellspring of mana within him. He took a deep breath and exhaled. As the mana surged within him, sparks began flying out of the gauntlets slowly and circling him once more.

Parth knew that the fight took a turn at that moment. He would not be denied his victory once again.

You can find story with these keywords: Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai], Read Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai], Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai] novel, Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai] book, Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai] story, Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai] full, Pygilist: Fire + Fist [Dungeon Isekai] Latest Chapter