At the end of this last corridor is another set of stairs that leads into a triangular room, and half a dozen Horolt stand inside, looking at me as I descend with eyes full of expectation and reverence. At the centre of the room, depressed into the floor and connected by a long, inlaid metal line inscribed with softly shining runescript is a chair made of similar material, complete with armrests and several braces made of yellow crystal with metal wires threaded through. Reminds me a lot of the Capsule my body is using in Reality, and functionally it's not too dissimilar.

"Honoured Blade," one of the more senior Horolt approaches me, "You bless us with your presence here. Rea-Horolt Vazlenore has been awaiting you eagerly for two days now, are you ready to enter the arena?"

"Yes," I nod seriously, quietly apologising to Yanse for forgetting the time difference between Merrow and Earth.

"Then, please disrobe yourself and place your chosen equipment into our care," he instructs slowly, "We will place it into a separate receptacle. Once the Simulacra is constructed - after you take a seat on the chair below - it will be equipped onto the Simulacra for your use."

"Alright."

The setup process is fairly swift, and soon my skin is itching from contact with the icy-cold metal chair, though now bound to it there's nothing I can do to scratch at it. With the technician-like Horolt satisfied, a pair of them start mumbling through a series of Spells. The metal begins to warm and thrum with power. The stone scrapes against itself as I rise from the depression, ending with a loud clunk, the pedestal connecting to the circuit in the floor, leading through the door opposite.

The vibrations intensify dramatically with the chanting of the spells, and I feel myself rather paradoxically falling asleep in spite of the intense discomfort. In the same spirit as when I log into Astral Reckoning day after day, I relax my control and let the mechanism take me away from my body.

---

 

Illusory Tournament Ground, Pilgrim's Pedestal

My body feels light. I open my eyes, and find myself stood atop a large, flat platform about 30x20m, made from a mixture of stone, crystal and metal in elaborate and beautifully winding patterns that form the magical array, with every single scrap of space inscribed with intricate runescript in some forgotten, arcane language from centuries past.

I've only ever dabbled in enchantment myself in the course of my efforts to learn armoursmithing, but the 'inscription' method was something I gave up on in favour of outsourcing or utilising infusion and Magic Core inlaying. At the low-to-mid rank where I sit, it limits the complexity of the finished product and results in fewer 'effects', but it's also less prone to error and you can make up for it in raw oomph if you know how to draw out the most power.

Distracted by admiration of the craftsmanship on display, it takes me a few seconds to pull my attention away to my surroundings. The arena is sunk down to a separate level in a grand hall so tall I can't properly see the ceiling. It's well lit by crystal sconces and benches filled with people line the length of the upper area. At the opposite end, above even them, sit the Rea-Horolt on carved stone thrones, with two conspicuously empty.

The first is probably my colleague, Tern's, meaning he's still off spelunking and they've not bothered to drag him back in spite of the occasion - or couldn't - while the second belongs to the woman walking towards me with a barely restrained smile. Other than her footsteps and giddy laughter, the arena is eerily quiet. Not because the audience is keeping quiet, I just can't hear them.

"Kid, you're finally awake!" Yanse finally can't contain herself any longer and starts laughing her head off, "Didn't matter how we hollered or shook, you slept like the dead!"

"...Is that why I had such a headache this morning?" I frown, wondering for a moment if it wasn't my attributes and instead an over-eager Yanse abusing my empty Vessel while I was asleep in Reality. Probably a bit of both.

"Maybe?" she shrugs, making no attempt to apologise nor showing any guilt, "Gave us a bit of a scare when you wouldn't wake up though."

"I was elsewhere," I refrain from going into a lengthy explanation at this juncture, "My soul, that is. It's not anything serious."

"Mm? If you say so," she accepts it at face value, "You should be careful with that, though, it's not a good idea to leave a body vacant and unprotected, not to mention the danger to a wandering soul."

Her concern is appreciated, "I wouldn't think that'd be a danger here, of all places."

Yanse's smile takes on a self-deprecating tint, "You'd think so, but most of the Horolt here aren't all that magically adept, and I can't say I'm capable of handling all manner of threats. Me and my guards do our best, but sometimes it's not enough. Anyway, I've said my piece, you ready to do this? I've been looking forward to this for a long time now!"

"Give me a moment to acclimate," I request simply, "With the new Class, my attribute balance was seriously damaged."

"Certainly! I want the best you can offer!" she beams. Truly, still the same irrepressible battle freak.

"Thank you, I won't take long," I draw my flamberge and settle into a neutral stance with a loose grip. Breathing slowly, I focus on the sight of the sword's edge and sink into calm focus. My left foot slides forward while my right hooks back, and I lean into it while swinging a single time vertically. The motion is halted a touch too slow, then shifts to a reverse-horizontal slash. I estimate the delay I'm experiencing from thought, decision and action to have increased by roughly a second and a half from before, placing me at a baseline of at least three seconds.

My subconscious is doing a lot of the legwork, but the disparity is so pronounced at this point I feel like I'm a cartoon character whose framerate has suddenly shifted from 80fps down to 20. I can compensate, sure, but this is...yeah. I can't put up with this for very long - Rise of the Adventurers cannot come soon enough.

It takes a minute or two before I attempt anything more complex, going through the basic forms and strikes of my Stalwart Duellist Style, to some of the intermediate. As a defensive, reactionary style of swordsmanship, I can't go through all the motions by myself, but it's not like I'm chained to the concept. I made my way with a mix of styles and improvisation for years, so I know by now that the stances and forms are just idealised guidelines developed to fit a certain 'flow'. It's still a peak Silver-Tier (hah) style going by the ranking system of the future-to-be that analysts and professional sword experts came up with, though, so it's better than most of what I've picked up.

In the future, I'll need to develop better technical skills if I'm to try and play at being a Saint-level player. I'm no master, and my talents are modest compared to the real deal. With a sigh, I settle down, limbering up to relax my body, ignoring the hard stares I'm getting from all around, not least of all from Yanse.

"Hoooh? Not bad, not bad at all for your age..." she compliments now that I'm done warming up, ignorant of her mistaken assumption, "Although it's a little lacking compared to my expectations for a Blade of Lady Jannis. Hmmm..."

"Putting my handicaps aside, I can't display everything before we even begin, can I?" I bluff her with a half-truth. I definitely didn't use everything I could have, but I also couldn't use everything I know. Although, it's irksome to hear her evaluate me as being 'not bad' for a presumed young adult, true or not, with 30 years of experience under my belt.

"Mm, sure," Yanse accepts it bluntly, "You feeling alright? You look anxious."

Sparing a quick glance at the large audience of over a hundred people, I shrug helplessly, "I am not used to being the centre of attention. Not in this manner, at least."

She smiles in understanding, "Bit of trepidation on stage is pretty normal, I hear. Never really bothered me none, m'self."

"I envy your confidence," I laugh half-heartedly, "No Skills or Spells, I believe?"

"Yes," Yanse rolls her shoulders, "For the first round. If you last three minutes or land a solid hit we'll go to round two and I'll start putting in a little effort. After that...well, anything goes."

"Well, I'll do as much as my circumstances permit," I promise, "I'll clear the first round if nothing else."

Yanse laughs jovially, clapping her hands in admiration, "There's your backbone, kid! Good, good! More of that and I might actually believe ya!"

---

 

In the interests of fairness, with consideration to the reach of Yanse's chains, we retreat apart from another to a safe distance at opposite ends of the arena. Many of the spectators, including the Rea-Horolt, join together in celebratory prayers I can't hear in anticipation of the bout's commencement. Supposedly, there'll be a signal to begin once they've completed their little rite.

The time is spent recalling my previous sparring matches with the previous timeline's Chain of Olton, when she was a more experienced, mature and deadly combatant, thriving amidst the chaos brought to the world by the back-to-back Cavhatirrius Chapters, which is to say nothing of the things she overcame I have no inkling of. Though the Yanse before me is not as accomplished, it would be folly to consider her easier to deal with.

From memory, the issue isn't the chains, precisely, but her fists and boots. Yanse specialises pretty heavily in locking down and taking out high priority targets from The Ignorant as opposed to monsters, using the chains like whips to harry distant threats, bind down mid-range foes, and then close in to finish them with heavy punches and kicks. At least, that's how she operates in a duel - when facing multiple opponents, she makes full use of the range and flexibility of her chains with the help of a little secret of hers - telekinesis. Albeit, a form limited to manipulating whatever chains she has equipped.

Yanse fighting at her full potential can use the chains like additional tentacle-esque limbs with fine control no less than her nature-given arms and legs, with some extra tricks and zazz in there for good measure. Even on equal footing in Level and Attributes, I'd still be at a disadvantage with my choice of weapon and the difference in our respective talents. As far as my options go, I really don't have any choice other than to close in on her. I lack the means to play a cat & mouse game by kiting her around the enclosed space of this arena, making staying out of her generous reach impractical if not outright impossible

Neither can I properly fight back from a distance. I'm not Jade. With the conditions of the first round as they are, my focus should be on avoiding her lazy attacks and closing in on Yanse before she realises my lack of fear. Slim chance she won't, but it all depends on how 'fair' to the spirit of the first round she decides to keep herself to. If she feels sufficiently threatened in the space of a moment, there's a real danger she might retaliate reflexively with more than she promised to us.

As for later rounds, I'll cross those bridges when I get to them.

"What's taking them so long?" I mumble, getting antsy.

The world unfortunately does not take my complaint as a signal to finish the ceremony above at that moment to extract some kind of irony. Rather, the prayers keep going on for another minute and a half at a minimum, before the Ahtni Rea-Horolt stands up from his throne and stomps his foot. The entire hall shakes, and although I'm not directly affected by the enormous physical force he exerted, my body flickers for a moment as the magical energies he emitted clashes with the Illusory Tournament Ground's enchantments. Very impressive and all, but you're going to break the array if you do that every time.

I release my building tension, running forward at a speed that would make a leopard jealous. The distance evaporates under my legs, sword extended like a lance. It feels comparable to when I used Bull Rush before, so it's not too difficult to control compared to what I've become accustomed to of late. Still by no means close to what I was capable of prior to The Astral Eclipse, but at the very least I don't feel like I'm walking instead of running.

The chains come at me horizontally, one aims low at my knees, while the other lags a quarter second behind ready to change trajectories the moment one of Yanse's fingers so much as twitches. Recollection. She used this move on me once. It's something like a default attack she uses to figure out how her opponent thinks through the response they make - or lack thereof.

If I jump, I'll be vulnerable if it's too early. Going beneath it at this speed is inadvisable since my fine motor control won't make recovery easy. Confronting it head-on isn't going to amount to anything besides getting smacked back to the starting point. Best choice: Jump at the right time and dive beneath the second chain. Jumping over them both is too obvious. Got to thread the proverbial needle.

My illusory flesh is slow to act on my plan of action. My backheel clips the lower chain as I ascend, and almost trips me over. The uncertainty works in my favour, the second chain skims across the top of my chest as I bend back to compensate. I land running, zigging after a few steps to avoid the return of one chain, then jumping again while zagging back to avoid the other. At this distance, I'm in the prime zone for her 'territory'. Not too close, not too far.

I take a glancing blow to my arm, twisting before it wraps around me. My ankle catches a swipe from the other chain simultaneously, and I stumble. Reflexive response is impossible, and my actions are lagging behind the changing circumstances. A split second can be the difference between life and death, so three goddamn seconds is extreme.

Despite all that (mostly because Yanse is going easy on me) I reach her quickly, with one chain wrapped around my left foot, sword fully extended. Only a quarter-inch of the blade's tip is in reach, but she stands there and lets it touch her armoured torso with an amused grin.

Sloppy, and entirely a freebie, but that's round one to me. I don't feel fantastic about it, however, I am rarely one to argue with results. The chain around my leg relaxes and retracts with a flick of Yanse's wrist, and I likewise lower my weapon.

She removes her helmet, and eyes me thoughtfully, "Have we fought before?"

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head, inwardly nervous.

"Mm. No, never mind," Yanse shakes her head, "Not bad, not good. You got guts, if nothing else, but don't think I'm going to be so generous next round, a'ight?"

"I did not expect you to be," I shake my head, "I merely wished to do away with any pretences you may have of taking this too casually. I appreciate and understand your consideration, but it is by no means necessary. Let's not waste each others' time and go all out, yes?"

Laughter rises from Yanse's stomach, contorting her back as her shoulders shake, "So you say! Very well, let us have a wondrous and exciting time shedding each other's blood for the glory of Khire!"

"Yes, yes," I sigh, wishing she wouldn't include me in her exaltation of her god and benefactor.

Moving back to our original starting positions, our stats are artificially reset to how they were at the start. I take the brief walk as a chance to scan through the gathered crowd for any familiar faces. None of the Merrowans strikes me as memorable besides the Rea-Horolt, but I do spy a pair of canid ears poking out amongst a sea of Firm along the way which almost certainly belongs to Horizon Chaser.

Flamberge shouldered, I give a nonchalant, half-assed salute with my free hand in her general direction and receive a simple wave back amidst a few confused pilgrims dressed in a mix of battle gear. The atmosphere amongst the audience is rather more tense and solemn than before, but I don't think that it is out of respect for my cheap victory. Though they cannot hear what words were exchanged between myself and Yanse, I feel as though they more or less understand what was said and what is to come.

Arriving at roughly the right spot, I close my eyes, focus on my breathing to set the tempo, to internalise the timing and rhythm of my body's connection to my mind. With as many points as I dumped into Perception, I maintain a keen awareness of myself even if my brain can't properly control the body. Combined with my memories of Yanse, the anticipation and flow state of combat it all affords me might end up working in my favour more than not. My responses may be delayed, but for someone as experienced as Yanse, it's hard to predict what I'm doing when the disconnect is so pronounced.

So goes the hazy logic I come up with to comfort myself in the face of an overwhelmingly strong opponent.

With the signal given by Djash, my eyes snap open and I dodge. I don't catch the movement as it occurs, but Yanse crosses half the gap between us instantly, both chains slapping down where I stood. I recall the third time we sparred. She followed it up by...

I duck, spinning around and raising my sword like a shield with one hand on the hilt while the other braces against the flat of the blade. Something causes a distorted vibration in sound above my head, the end of a chain slamming into my sword and sending me skidding backwards. With no time to celebrate, I push myself up with my bent knee using all my strength.

At once, I launch into the air, narrowly dodging over the returning first chain while the second suddenly shifts trajectory and shoots after me like a ballista bolt. Out of one mess into another - my sword plunges down a full second late, and I'm hit right in the solar plexus with enough force to launch a car through a concrete wall. Not ideal. I bounce off the boundary at the arena's edge a good 15ft off the ground. Yanse moves to pursue, I utilise my proximity to this immaterial wall to kick off it, timing it just so.

I descend at immense velocity, activating Ruthless Trifecta and Lord's Imperative in tandem, sword raised overhead. My sword meets a rapidly recalled bundle of chains about her forearm before I touch ground. She doesn't budge, but the recoil gives me just enough oomph to stay airborne for a half-second. My leg is already swinging upwards in a crescent motion beneath her raised arm. It does basically nothing to her, but it forces me to the ground rapidly, arms bringing my sword around for the third and final part of the combo, slamming into her leg.

"Hahaha!" she laughs, completely unconcerned, "More! MORE!"

Yanse's fist comes out in a bullet-quick right hook, damn near taking my head off. The force slams me backwards like a pivot into the floor and bounding away. Not one to waste an opportunity, her chains shoot out and wrap around my body mid-air, dragging me with enormous force backwards in the opposite direction in an arc, slamming me into the ground headfirst, emulating a suplex. The impact rocks through my body, my ears ringing and a throbbing agony following. By some miracle, it didn't 'kill' me, but my loss is all but sealed now as my dazed body is yanked towards her, the chains releasing me.

My head meets hers with a full force headbutt. We both stagger back, but the difference in damage is obvious. I collapse to the ground, unable to move.

"Come on~!" Yanse goads me, backing off, "Up! Come on! Up! I'm not done yet!"

"Guess some things don't change," I mutter under my breath, dragging myself to my feet unsteadily, tightening my grip on my sword.

"What don't change?" she asks, perplexed, "Hey, you sure we've not met before? You're acting like you know what I'm gonna do a little too accurately for it to be reflex."

"Not a story worth recounting at this moment in time," I shake off the dizziness, "We're not so close I'd trust you with it."

Though I'd count the original Yanse as a friend in passing, I'm still not sure I'd have felt comfortable telling her. In a way, she's a little too honest for her own good. No telling what trouble she'd cause with sensitive information. Although, with respect to Jupiter, that might be a little hypocritical of me since that's a trait the two of these idiots happen to share.

"Ach, whatever," Yanse rolls her head, laughter bubbling beneath, "Come! Fight me! Show me your truest joy and passion!"

....

This fucking psycho.

A quick glance at my overall Health at this stage reveals a fairly obvious truth: That the next solid hit she lands will 'kill' me. I rather underestimated just how tanky I am right now, even if she's still withholding much of her sheer power in the interests of a good fight. Before the Class change, if not the first hit, then certainly the second would have ended me.

Victory remains impossible. The only way I can kill her avatar is if she voluntarily lets me saw through her neck with the edge of my sword for five minutes unimpeded. I have no Skills left worth using; As if they made any difference from the start. So, what would I be satisfied with?

As before, when I considered a similar question, nothing springs to mind. 'Trying my best' doesn't seem like enough here. I suppose a better way of framing it would be to say that I don't wish to embarrass myself further. That is obvious. But from another perspective...I just want to have fun with it. If there's no competition from the start, why treat it as one when I can instead just enjoy the moment?

Yeah. It is by no stretch of the imagination a perfect or complete answer, but I need to put to rest this endless cynicism of mine at least in part if I'm to move forward with my life and fumbling ambitions. I shall not let go of it entirely - trading it for naïveté, but I believe that from Yanse I can learn a small lesson. More of a reminder, to be precise, of something I earnestly enjoy; Fighting strong, interesting opponents and sharpening my blade on the high walls they represent.

I laugh in spite of myself, raising my sword one last time.

"Here I go!"

Both chains untangle from Yanse's arms, the left lances forward. I deflect it with the tip of my sword as I approach, the metal scrapes down the edge and starts to coil. I pull the flamberge back in a pirouette before the chain tightens, maintaining forward momentum. Her second chain aims for my exposed back, and is met by the circling orbit of my sword, diverting that as well. Its point drops down, becoming a spear that meets her fist head-on, not budging in the slightest. The illusory blade shatters on contact, leaving only a splinter still attached to the hilt a fifth of the original length, the pieces scattering and vanishing.

I release the hilt with my right hand and reverse my grip with the left. I will get one strike in. I will. A grin spreads across my face, time dilates as my emotional high reaches an apex. I move with the flow, my breathing the only thing I can physically feel, the intake of breath stark in my ears. I will get one good hit.

Closer than ever, my ruined sword slips around her guard and advances towards the gap between her helmet and shoulder guards. Closer. It inches closer.

It hits empty air. Yanse slides her backfoot around, her hips moving the rest of her body out of the improvised dagger's path. A knee advances upwards the boot at the end of the leg cresting with it. Likewise, her fists and chains close in to ensure there is no escape.

I can't react in time. I lose.

And yet, I continue to smile.