The square was filled with people. Three wooden platforms were erected on the square to allow everyone to see. Two small ones where the fighters now stood and a central one in between they would have to jump to when the fight started. Erik couldn’t help but compare it to a stage performance.

On the middle stage, facing the largest crowd, Scaldar was chanting to draw the attention of the Gods. A row of thralls lined up behind him, tied up and kneeling. Their purpose was evident: they were to be sacrificed in the name of Chaos so that their screaming souls might draw more attention from beyond the Mortal plane.

Erik wasn’t focusing on this however. Instead he was eyeing his opponent. They were both barefoot and shirtless, only wearing a pair of pants even in the cold winter winds. To prevent his muscles from cramping up, Erik was constantly rolling and lightly flexing them to keep them warmed up. And he watched his opponent do the same, although the movements were far rougher than his own.

Erik had his Greatsword on a standard, freshly sharpened and glistening in the sun. His opponent had chosen to wield a one handed axe with a large axe-blade combined with a round shield.

There was no catcalling or insulting like there was before. The Trial was a serious matter and held as much ritualistic meaning as it was deadly.

Finally, Scaldar finished chanting and started slitting the throats of the chosen thralls one by one using a menacing dagger with a serrated blade and spiky protrusions. When he approached, the thralls did not react, almost like they had been drugged, but as soon as the blade touched their necks, they started screaming in inhuman ways. Incoherent and animalistic, their howls cut through the air as they bleed out.

And as the last body slumped down and off the podium, the screams died down and a deep drum started beating from somewhere behind the square, it was time for the duel to begin. Erik grabbed his sword from the standard, took a deep breath and jumped.

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Before he jumped, he was nervous. Any sane man would be when jumping into a life or death battle. But as soon as he jumped and accepted that he had entered into battle, a strange calmness came over him.

Hands on the sword grip, left hand down near the pommel and the right hand all the way to the crossguard for maximum leverage and control. Feet evenly spaced out, roughly equal to shoulder width and the left foot slightly ahead of the right. This way he would not be easily knocked off balance and he could put his entire body behind his attacks without overextending.

It was then that he realised he should have paid more attention to how the Marauders trained. He had been so focused on improving his own technique and proficiency that he had neglected studying his opponent’s fighting style.

His opponent’s axe, although certainly a dangerous weapon, was not Erik’s main concern. The shield was. It provided a lot of protection and if Erik struck the shield, the enemy’s axe would likely come flying at his unprotected body.

Erik and Krir, the opponent’s name he had only learned when they were announced prior to the sacrifices, slowly circled around the podium, attentively watching the other.

Erik recalled his old longsword-instructor’s words: ‘Keep a look out for your opponent’s blade in your peripherals, but do not keep your eye on it. Watch their eyes and their feet. Their body will betray their move. The muscles will move before the weapon starts moving, giving you more time to react and counter.’

And as they completed their third circle around the podium, Erik all the while repositioning his sword to provide the best cover, something seemed to flash in Krir’s eyes.

‘Here it comes.’ Erik thought and prepared his move.

Krir let loose a mighty shout as he charged at Erik, shield in front of his chest and axe raised.

Almost on instinct, Erik swiftly lowered the tip of his Greatsword, pointing directly at Krir’s eyes.

He raised his shield while continuing the charge, aiming to deflect the blade and bring his axe down on Erik’s naked shoulder.

‘Amateur. An impulsive amateur.’ –Was what Erik thought as he saw Krir block his own vision.

What Krir should have done was swing his shield at the sword blade, swatting it to the side to leave Erik defenceless. Instead he was now charging blindly, unaware of where Erik moved his sword to while his own weapon was raised far behind him and useless.

So Erik simply stepped aside. Moving towards Krir’s shield side while bringing his Greatsword around for a downwards cut to the legs.

‘Shit, slightly off.’ –Erik had misjudged the angle and struck the bottom of the shield. Sparks flew from where steel sword met iron shieldrim and with a crack two of the shield’s wooden boards splintered into pieces.

Not waiting for Krir to react, Erik tried to shift the failed cut into a thrust, but practice and reality proved different. Against wooden training posts, he could complete such a move beautifully, but against a moving and reacting opponent he failed to do so.

For Krir had stopped charging ahead and the force from the blow had spun him halfway to face Erik again, causing the distance between the two fighters to be too short for Erik to bring his blade around.

Krir saw a chance and like a bolt from the sky brought down his still raised axe. And with no time to parry with the blade, Erik had no other choice but to try and parry with the space between his hands on the sword handle, catching the axe-haft below the axe-head.

A burst white hot pain shot down his hand as Erik’s right pinkie was crushed between the two handles. But refusing to let the pain take hold, Erik turned away and delivered a heavy kick to the half-broken shield, creating space and breathing room.

This short exchange had lasted mere moments, but the intensity was bone-chilling and the audience below watched with bated breath.

Krir’s attack had failed, but so had Erik’s counter and at the end Krir had only lost part of his shield while Erik now had to deal with a broken or bruised finger, impairing control of his sword.

Taking two heavy breaths to dull the pain, Erik could feel the adrenaline racing and his heart pumping while a feeling of exhilaration came over him. This was a fight! And as soon as he regained his stance, Erik jumped forward with a heavy blow, cutting diagonally from left to right. Forcing Krir to raise his shield and impair his own weapon.

Now having determined the proper distance and intending to keep it, Erik started flowing into his moves. Cut, slice, feint left, stab right. Strike at the legs before aiming at the head, always forcing Krir to react and not give him an opportunity to break the barrage, the axe uselessly to the side as Krir swung his shield every which way Erik struck from.

1 cut, 2 cuts, 3, 4, Erik relentlessly continued until Krir made a mistake. A fatal mistake, as it proved.

Erik feinted to stab at his head and as Krir raised his shield, again blocking his vision, Erik turned the thrust into a low cut, scoring a direct hit on the backside of the unprotected calf. And the force of the blow combined with the weight of the blade was great enough to let it effortlessly pass through skin, muscle and bone as it severed the limb in one smooth cut.

Krir fell backwards, not even yet registering the pain of losing the leg but still trying to regain the balance he had suddenly lost as he wildly flapped his arms without thought of defence or offense.

Taking the momentum from the dismembering cleave, leaving a fine mist of blood trailing behind the blade, Erik turned it around again. Point forward and poised to strike.

He stepped forward, towards the slowly falling Krir and impaled him from the front, the tip bursting from Krir’s back with yet more blood flying out.

Eyes bulging in disbelief, Krir dropped his mangled shield and grabbed the razor-sharp edge sticking out his chest with his bare hand, desperately trying to stay upright as the lifeblood continued to flow out of him.

Erik had impaled him straight through the gut and diaphragm, making Krir struggle for breath as he started hacking and coughing.

Falling to the podium, his axe slipped out of his hand as he started choking up blood. A lung must have been hit as well.

Now on the floor, clearly beaten with no hope of a comeback, Krir looked at Erik. There was no malice or hate, just a pleading look.

Seeing Krir’s hand reaching for the axe, just out of reach, Erik understood. He picked up the axe and firmly placed it in Krir’s dying hands. And feeling the weight of the axe pressing down in his hand, Krir let out a thin smile as he breathed his last breath.

And Erik had passed his first Trial.

~Bleep! – Player Erik has slain the first Challenger, rewards available in GAO overview!

~Bleep! Player Erik earned Favour! Khorne approves your Honourable behaviour and victory in battle!
~Bleep! Player Erik earned Favour! Slaanesh approves your beautiful execution and Pleasure in battle!

Macrendil-Ysmir

Quick note on Magic & Harem.

Magic: I plan to have Erik use magic. At some point. Currently he'll need to improve his physical power to survive and grow. And before he can start using magic, he'll need some sort of catalyst to 'awaken' magical ability within him. Honestly, this could be a while off yet.

Harem: You've most likely guessed that Sigrun will be part of Erik's harem (otherwise, sorry. spoilers). Over time he will gather new harem members through a variety of ways, possibly with varying levels of affection. Also, while the real harem members will have names, descriptions and some back story and in-story first encounters with Erik, MC will also sleep around with no name, non-descript women.

Just a heads up on that part. I mean, if YOU had impulsive voices ringing through your head calling for you to either fuck, kill or both everything and everyone around you, you wouldn't be able to keep it in for weeks at a time while at sea or abroad either.

Oh, and I'm still not quite sure on this one since it does make me a bit uncomfortable but lore wise it would make perfect sense, MC may get involved in less than consensual intimacy at certain points. Most likely won't be very descriptive and just be 'glossed over' as MC "venting his Slaaneshi influences" but like I said, a rightly uncomfortable topic.

TL;DR, MC will get developed girls as a main-stay harem while playing with unknown girls on the side and he may or may not become a r***st in the future. And Magic will have to wait a while as I come up with a reasonable way for him to get access to it.

 

Thank you very much for reading Chapter 8 of Champion of Ruin!