Chapter 37 – Tournament (4)
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When Marlon got up this morning and headed to the common area for a bite to eat, he found the atmosphere heavy.

No one spoke, everyone glanced at each other warily. The murmurs that arose were filled with anger, with questioning. He didn't understand why and didn't care. He had slept very badly last night and the mists of sleep were having trouble leaving him. He could still feel them squeezing his mind like an overripe lemon, and when he spotted Jacob he went to sit down next to him and grumbled.

"Why does everyone look so tense? Did something happen?"

Jacob said nothing and seemed to watch the young man carefully as if to see if he was making fun of him or not.

"You didn't have anything to do with this?" he asked in a deep, dark voice.

"This what? I only just got up, Jacob. I don't even know what you're talking about..."

The colossus watched him for a few more seconds and sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"If you say so...Nirdan is dead. Someone killed him in the night and...let's just say his execution was barbaric."

Marlon's eyes widened and his spoon hung halfway to his mouth. He was genuinely surprised and seeing his reaction, his instructor relaxed noticeably.

"Well, don't worry about it. Stay focused on your upcoming fights and I suggest you watch your opponents if you have time. This would allow you to establish strategies in advance to fight them. But be careful, everyone is as tense as a bow today and there have already been two scuffles in which I had to intervene... "

The giant stood up and began to walk away from the table before stopping, remembering an important detail he needed to communicate to Marlon.

"Ha, by the way, some men from the Order of the Draconic Eye are coming by later today. They're going to want to question everyone, so cooperate with them if you don't want to be up to your neck in shit. They are very influential and sent by the Imperial Garrison to investigate the murder..."

"Isn't it a knight's order, like in the stories? Why are they investigating this?"

Jacob looked at him with a twisted eye before shaking his head and answering.

"I forget too often that you're from a backwater and don't know much about the Empire and how it works...Think of the order as the guardians of the Empire. And not the kind of benevolent guardians who come to cajole you and help you up, more like the kind who torture you into confessing to crimes you don't even think you committed..."

He looked at the young man and continued his explanation with a serious tone as if to make Marlon understand how important the subject was.

"The tournament is an Empire-funded event, and while they pay little attention to the death of a competitor, the fact that he was murdered outside of combat triggers protocols, and the Order is the one that handles all security issues remotely related to the Empire...if they get even a hint of your guilt, you're done, Revenge."

Marlon nodded as Jacob waved him away and continued to eat until his hunger subsided. He thought about Nirdan's death and couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.

Shaking his head to get rid of these thoughts, he put his finger on something new inside his mind, something he hadn't noticed before.

Projectile.

He had a rune called Projectile, which he had never seen before. Could it be that...

He got up, and doing his best not to betray the distress that invaded him like a gigantic wave, he went to his room where he found Luna still sleeping soundly at the foot of his bed and did not move a muscle when he closed the door behind him.

"Loki, I did this, right?"

The AI didn't answer him, a deadly silence settled in the room.

"Answer me, please..."

"Yes, Marlon, it is you who killed Nirdan. Or rather, it is the one that your madness makes you become that killed him..."

The young man held his head in his hands, feeling a wave of indescribable anger come over him. Not because of Nirdan's murder, nor for Loki's silence, but because of the total lack of control over his own actions.

"If I start losing my memory and not remembering what I'm doing, this is going to end badly, Loki. I felt like I had a bad dream like I didn't sleep well...damn!"

He got up and began pacing around his bed, puffs of anxiety clutching his chest and making it hard to breathe. After several minutes, he managed to calm down slightly and regain his breath.

Was the frustration of not killing Nirdan at the root of this? Or was he simply losing more and more control over his mind? He didn't know what to think exactly...

He took a scroll [Spirit Care] already drawn in his bag and activated it without delay, enjoying the temporary well-being that this magic gave him and the pink aura that penetrated his body and melted into him. He then sat down on a corner of the bed and sighed before resolving to find out what he had done.

"Tell me about it, Loki. I want to know exactly what happened..."

The AI took a few moments to speak to him, as if hesitant to reveal the truth. But it finally spoke, in a soft voice, as if not to overwhelm Marlon further.

"You were asleep for two or three hours when you suddenly woke up...I tried to talk to you when I saw that you were reaching for your sword but you didn't answer me, you were talking to someone different..."

"Let me guess...my mother?"

"Yes...and no matter how much I called out to you, yelled your name, tried to get into your consciousness to wake you up from your crisis, nothing did. You walked towards the room where Nirdan was resting while talking about a "promise" that you had to keep. Your mind knew what it was doing, as you avoided the few stragglers still present by slipping into the shadows with dexterity and efficiency. That impressed me...then when you entered Nirdan's room...I don't need to detail the rest, do I?"

Marlon shook his head and his eyes had grown stern as Loki told him.

"And Nirdan turned out to be a player since I have a new rune..."

"An evil for a good, you have to see the positive side..."

"Losing control of my mind is not a good thing, Loki. I'm going to have to pay more attention and use my healing spell a lot more often to keep my inner demons at bay. But in the long run, we'll have to find another solution...if I survive the Order's interrogation, that is."

The problem was that neither Marlon nor Loki could see what else they could do. They didn't know enough about the magic of this world to see a solution. On Earth, they could have easily healed him with neural resequencing, but such technology did not exist on Gaia.

They talked for a few more minutes, then decided to change the subject when they saw that it wasn't getting them anywhere.

Sounds were beginning to reach Marlon's ears, and he suspected that the arena had just filled up with people and that the fighting would resume in a few moments.

"So let's go watch some fights, as Jacob advised us. It will take my mind off of things, and it will make it easier for us to win against them."

Loki agreed with Marlon's plan and left the room, this time with Luna following. After all, they were not in an inn and there was no real reason to keep her locked up, it would do her good to relax a little.

He quickly found himself near the door to the stadium, along with all the other participants still in the running, his chimera sitting next to him and glancing around, eagerly awaiting the first draw of the day.

The atmosphere was still heavy, and Marlon could hear a few groups talking around him and wondering what had happened. He refrained from intervening, just listening carefully to what was being said around him.

"You think others will die like Nirdan? I came to compete for the award, but I don't want to lose my skin like a coward..."

"No, I'm telling you it was a Dead Guild hit. This guy must have been in debt or someone wanted to get rid of him and paid them to do it..."

"What if it was just one of us, huh? Did you think about that?"

Discussions and theories were going on, and some were much closer to reality than others.

The cheering in the stadium became much louder, and a few seconds later the double doors opened to reveal a mage dressed in green, who came to announce the next participants.

"Anouk, the Barbarian, and Deston, PyroGuerrier, you are next. Get ready and follow me."

Through the open doors, Marlon saw that the arena had been restored to its normal appearance, the stadium now a pristine expanse of sand free of bloodstains.

The two combatants called prepared themselves and positioned themselves in front of the entrance, greeting each other with a stiff nod.

Anouk was a human-looking woman, as tall as Marlon and almost as muscular. At her belt hung two long swords made of metal as black as coal and unknown to Marlon. She wore a headdress made of human-looking bones, and even the young man shuddered as he imagined himself ending up in a headdress.

Deston, meanwhile, was dressed in a flaming orange tunic, no weapon in hand and a smug smile on his face. He seemed more than confident and as he walked across the hot sand of the arena, flames began to emerge from his hands.

The announcer introduced them to the audience, who were roaring with anticipation for the big fight that was about to happen. They took their seats facing each other and the doors closed, just the large slot left open for the fighters to watch the fight live.

And it was a memorable fight, at least from Marlon's perspective.

If Deston had no weapons, it was because he was one. As soon as the signal for battle was given, his whole body burst into flame, and from his two hands came two lines of fire resembling swords, the flames of which were not orange-red like the others, but a deep blue.

It looked like a fire elemental that had taken the form of a human being for a few moments.

But the barbarian was not to be outdone. She wielded her two swords as if they weighed nothing and walked lightly in front of the Pyro-warrior, parrying each of the fiery blows he dealt her.

Both were experienced fighters, and their face-to-face almost looked like a choreographed show, so fluid and fast was it. The blows followed one another and neither of them seemed to weaken under the assault, their faces witnessing an absolute concentration that nothing or almost nothing could disturb.

This went on for many minutes when an imbalance began to appear.

Deston would occasionally step back out of range of the barbarian and use a long-range skill that Anouk was forced to protect herself against. She could not counter, apparently having any choice but to rush to close the distance between her and her opponent.

In doing so, she began to accumulate burns that seemed to bother her and slow her down more and more. Her gestures became more abrupt, tenser, and she was less and less able to counter the assaults of Deston who was in full catharsis, seeing his enemy weakening.

A few seconds later, he managed to get past the Barbarian's guard, and his fiery blade sliced through her flesh like butter, his opponent's right arm falling to the ground.

Anouk jumped back and shouted angrily at the audience to surrender, astonishing everyone who thought she was still saving some techniques to counter Deston.

When they returned to the bowels of the arena, a healer attended directly to the barbarian, who seemed to be in far more pain than her fight had indicated.

"The way he sliced her arm, every blow he managed to place must have given her tremendous pain. No wonder she surrendered, although I think in a fight where she couldn't have surrendered it would probably have been different."

Marlon, who didn't know the skills of the Barbarians all that well, could only shrug his shoulders in ignorance, happy to have been able to witness such a spectacle.

The audience's cheers echoed under the backstage beams, and soon the doors opened again to a man in green, announcing the next two opponents;

"Tekal, the geomancer, and Gontian, the sylvan mage, it is your turn. Get ready, your battle is about to begin."

Marlon's shoulders unconsciously relaxed as he almost expected his name to come up. Not that he minded, but with all the fighters left, it would have been the last straw if he had fought a third time in two days.

He watched the two opponents advance onto the field and was about to enjoy the start of their fight when a hand came to rest on his shoulder exerting a cordial but impossible to ignore the pressure.

He turned around and was astonished to see a man in plate armor facing him. Totally black, the armor covered every square centimeter of the skin of the character, only his face being uncovered. He was holding the helmet that went with the rest with his left hand, the right hand being the one placed on Marlon.

The man's face was severe, piercing black eyes giving a dangerous intensity to his rather androgynous features. He gave off a threatening impression that made Marlon shudder, remaining frozen in front of him.

"Hello, I am Marcus, Interrogator of the Order of the Draconic Eye. Please follow me."

The young man felt his heart skip a beat but his face remained neutral, expressing no expression in front of the interrogator. In his head, the familiar voice of Loki reassured him.

"Look around, you're not the only one being questioned. Stay cool and advise as you go."

Luna had started to growl when she saw Marcus dragging Marlon towards the back of the common room, but she kept quiet at a gesture of her master's hand. A gesture which did not fail to be noticed by the envoy of the Order.

The interrogator sat down at one of the tables, and the young man did the same, seeing that three of his fellow fighters were in exactly the same posture as he was, which calmed down a bit the anxiety he felt.

"Beautiful beast you have the..."

Marcus clasped his hands together in front of him and his gaze locked with Marlon's.

"Let's get to the point...I'm here to question you about the murder of one of the Tournament fighters who is being executed right now under the Emperor's authority. We don't take these kinds of events lightly, and we're going to question everyone here. If you cooperate, in five minutes everything will be over. If not, you should know that we are all at least Gold Grade in two combat categories and from our point of view, this Tournament is nothing more than a warm-up for the recruits."

As he said this, Marcus' gaze had turned icy and a predatory smile had appeared on his face, a kind of carnivorous pleasure being felt through his actions.

This man would love it if someone stood up to him. He would love to take it out on him and make confetti out of him. He was definitely very dangerous, and Marlon found it hard to stay calm in front of him.

"It's very simple, I'm going to use a spell on you that will tell me right away if you had anything to do with the death of Nirdan, the Archer. This spell is based on your memories and cannot be falsified. Now give me both your hands, please."

"Let it go, kid. In the blink of an eye, this guy could send you six feet under. You're not ready for that kind of opponent yet."

Marlon held out both hands, a trickle of sweat running down his back from the stress. He looked at the other knights of the Order and remembered the various scrolls he had on him to help him escape.

Maybe if he went through the stadium, he could jump over the divider leading to the audience and blend in with the crowd...they probably wouldn't dare go after each other, would they?

A purple aura emanated from Marcus' hands as he cast the spell that was supposed to uncover the truth.

[Return of Truth]

Marlon heard the name of the spell used and couldn't help but shudder as the purplish light traveled up his arms and into his skull.

There was no pain, no strange sensation whatsoever. After a few seconds, Marcus' hands released Marlon's and he tensed, ready to run for his life.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Good day to you and may the god of combat accompany you in the tournament. In the name of the emperor."

As he greeted Marlon, he made an intricate gesture with his hands, reminiscent of a martial arts kata, and went to the door to question another fighter.

"What the fuck just happened there?!?"

The AI took a few moments to answer, its voice full of doubt.

"...he told you that his spell was based on memories, right? You don't remember killing Nirdan, it was your insanity that was controlling you...maybe...maybe it saved you."

"Great. So basically if he didn't out me it's because of this fucking alternative and completely loony personality that takes over me from time to time?"

"...Yes, I believe so."

Marlon had a sudden urge to laugh hysterically at the iniquitous comedy of the situation, but he held back, not wanting to draw even more attention.

Incredible turnaround, folks! Go crazy! This will prevent you from getting arrested.

Chuckling and feeling miraculous, he walked back to the stadium door where Marcus was inviting another fighter to follow him.

As he did so, thunderous applause sounded and he swore that the fight must be over. He was not mistaken, as the geomancer Tekal soon appeared before them as the doors opened to let him in.

His opponent followed a few seconds later, on a stretcher. But given the clear separation between his head and several other parts of his body, as well as the revolting eyes totally devoid of any consciousness, it was safe to say that Tekal was the only survivor.

The adventurer then turned to his neighbor.

"What happened? I was busy with the Order..."

The ebony-skinned man still seemed to be in shock from what he had just seen and shook his head.

"This guy didn't get hit once! It's like he saw what his opponent was going to do ahead of time! And just when he started to get tired, he cast a spell, just one, and cut him to pieces. It's amazing...if I fall to this guy, I'm giving up. I didn't come here to die like a bum."

The man ran off to the ring near the common areas shaking his head, muttering that he needed to get his mind off of such a show.

"Loki, what exactly is geomancy?"

"Divination by the earth...It reads the signs of what's going to happen in the ground or something like that. It was something totally wacky on Earth, but to think it's a class here..."

"So basically, this guy can guess everything that's going to happen if he has dirt around him. Great...the stadium is filled with sand, and given what just happened, I guess it works for him too..."

"On the bright side, you probably have a few hours left to figure out a parade."

Marlon doubted that he would be able to find a way to counter Tekal's abilities, but what he could do was prepare diligently and blacken a few more scrolls for the next fight.

Besides, there was nothing to say that he was going to fight him...hopefully, another opponent would get rid of him!

 

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