Twenty minutes have passed since the end of Rurah’s fight. He was back at the bleachers and sat beside Nally and Hitto. The latter was grinning ear to ear while pumping his fists. “That was a great fight!” he smiled. “We have to spar with each other once this is over.”
“I don’t mind,” the giant replied. “If there’s time, I could definitely use the extra training.”
As the two conversed more, Nally watched on with a pleasantly intrigued expression. Her focus was on Rurah – with her eyes travelling all across his broad chest and strong legs. Eventually, her attention landed on his well-structured face.
“Everything alright?” the giant asked, noticing the gaze.
“Yeah, I’ve just been wondering,” she began. “You were badly hurt after using a lightning incantation during the exam that looked similar to the one you used against Lancer. But this time around, you got away with light scratches and came back quickly after checking in with the Healer’s Guild. How come?”
“Because they were two different incantations,” he explained. “Against Crystal, I couldn’t chant because of that damn dagger she jammed into my mouth. So I used a suicidal lightning incantation technique that uses one’s own body as the striking point. It’s the only incantation I know that doesn’t require the chant.”
“I see,” she nodded. “So the incantation you used against Lancer used the opponent as the striking point?”
“That’s right,” he smiled.
“Are you guys stupid?” they heard from above. “The tournament is still going on, and you’re showing your cards? Pure idiocy.”
All three shifted their attention to observe a clean-shaven man with dense, burly eyebrows and an intense black-eyed gaze. Seated with his large arms crossed, the muscles underneath his white sleeveless shirt displayed their definition as he flexed.
“You’re Damon?” Rurah frowned, clicking his tongue. “I’ve been watching you. I don’t like the way you do things. Even if killing is warranted during an exam, acting on it is a different matter. You clearly showed your idiocy with that low move.”
“Well don’t you have a way with words?” he chuckled. “I’ll admit, you’re brighter than you look.”
“Thanks,” the giant replied curtly. “Now, if you don’t mind, please excuse yourself from our conversation. I believe the second fight will be wrapping up shortly, so it’ll be your turn soon enough.”
“No thanks,” he grinned, sinking deeper into his chair with stretched-out legs. “I’m free to say and listen wherever and whenever I want, especially when you’re talking so loud.”
“What kind of logic is that?” Nally butted in while shaking her head. “To start, you were never included in the conversation. Secondly, it's common sense to at least introduce yourself before talking to others, and third, we can simply ignore you.”
“Well, you haven’t been doing a good job of that pretty little miss!” he laughed with a snort. “You’re still entertaining me!”
“You’re not a kid, you’re a grown man,” she sighed. “Start acting your age.”
There was silence as Damon leaned forward on his chair. His piercing gaze shifted completely toward Nally as bloodlust filled the area. Rurah quickly got up from his seat, ushering Nally and Hitto to join him. “Let’s go check on Ned.”
They made their way down the all-but-empty bleachers and toward the area where the Healer’s Guild was stationed—a cropped-out dugout underneath one of the many stands of the arena. Six members of the guild were there in total, with four conversing on the left side and two attending to Ned on a bench on the right side. He was completely motionless, with lifeless eyes and a gaped expression on his face. One of the healers had a hand placed on his forehead, with a golden glow emitting from the touch.
As the three closed in, the other four members stopped their chatting and approached them with one stepping forward. The Healers all wore those same mask covering and priest-like robes.
“Rurah?” the rough male-sounding voice spoke. “I already checked you. What are you doing back here?”
“Just checking up on Ned,” he responded. “Do you guys remember B15? He’s the guy who helped me get that dagger out.”
The guild member – B15, gave the two of them a discrete wave before turning back to face Rurah again. “I believe my companions are almost done attending to him. It seems he suffered more mental trauma, if anything. We are currently working to suppress those memories that are bothering him. When we’re done, I think it’d be best if you all avoided talking about what could have possibly triggered him so that he doesn’t end up like this again.”
“Alright,” Rurah sighed, turning to face Hitto and Nally. “Should we relax here for now?”
At that exact moment, the crowd’s cheers erupted, deafening the area around them. The three of them quickly exited the little dugout and turned their attention over toward the arena. Only a single guy stood pumping his hands into the air amidst the outcry of applause.
Hitto let out a snicker. “Seems like it’s done,” he smiled. “And I want to watch Damon’s fight cuz I’ll be facing him in the next round, so I’ll see you guys later.”
Without hesitation, he departed with a wave, prompting Nally to release a sigh. “He never waits. What if we wanted to go with him?”
“Then you should chase after him now,” the giant chuckled with crossed arms. “I’ll wait here for Ned.”
“Alright! Update me later!”
With Nally now gone, Rurah headed back toward the dugout and approached B15. The guild member noticed instantly and excused himself from the other guild members. The two exited the dugout, taking a seat right outside of it against the wall. B15’s gaze sharpened as he clutched his knees.
“You want to know what we know about that ability? Right?”
“Yeah,” Rurah responded. “That Divine Art – Fear Manipulation. It was the first time I’d ever been exposed to such an ability. Is it rare?”
“It most definitely is,” the healer agreed. “But that’s the problem with Divine Arts. We will never truly know how many are out there or what they are capable of. This ‘Fear Manipulation,’ for example, is one of a kind. An ability that affects one’s mental state drawing from past trauma that the attacker is not aware of is mind-blowing.”
“Are you aware of how it works?”
“No. But what I can say is that it’s dangerous. The Assassination Guild probably kept this person hidden for that reason.”
Rurah’s brows furrowed. “So why would they let him out now?”
“That’s the concerning part,” B15 spoke. “It means they might be planning something, and that ability may be essential to the plan. Anything is possible with that guild. They’ve never been kept in check.”
“Stupid of them to expose it here. Now we’ll actively be looking for a way to stop this.”
“Exactly,” the healer chuckled. “The moment the exam is over, we’ll be informing Dr. Scale. Mollox Vargas and his guild can count their days. Eventually, all their little secrets will be exposed.”
Sir Malcolm’s breath was heavy, and his legs trembled with each sway of his blade. The weight and pressure he was feeling were becoming all too unbearable. He already had to fight Damon once in the last round yet once again, here he was, with the same result looking inevitable.
“Are you just gonna stand there?” his opponent sighed. “If so, you’ll end up just like your friend, who I knocked out in seconds. You have to at least last as long as you did when we first fought.”
“Shut it,” Sir Malcolm cursed while clenching his teeth. “I don’t want to hear anything from you.”
“Alright,” Damon responded, closing the distance with excessive speed. His strides were long and quick, catching Sir Malcolm off guard.
With that same hastiness, he grabbed the hilt of his large broadsword and unsheathed it – slamming it downward toward the knight. Sir Malcolm’s feet bulked under the weight of the impact as he sunk lower and lower, using every ounce of strength he had to force it off. Finally, after what felt like forever, his blade achieved the impossible, skidding the broadsword to the side as it slammed into the arena.
“Good job,” Damon smiled as he heaved the blade onto his shoulder. “Now, let's see if you can keep that up!”
He lunged in again, but this time, his stride was much slower. Of course, Sir Malcolm was puzzled by this but remained alert. As the distance closed, the blade came hurtling down once more. Sir Malcolm chose to dodge the attack to avoid the muscle strain, resulting in the blade connecting with the arena once more, carving through the ground as dust quaked around them.
The hell!? The knight thought with a bewildered expression as he instinctively took a few steps back. His last strike was far slower than before yet that destructive? Is this some sort of Divine Art?
“Focus on what’s in front of you.”
“WHAT!?”
Without even realizing it, Damon's fist was inches away from his face. The large man struck the knight square, sending him throttling backwards. He went tumbling as the crowd cheered and booed, respectively. His head slammed right into the destroyed portion of the arena, ringing his ears and hazing his sight as he struggled to stand. By the time he got back to his feet with a limp, hands firmly clutching his throbbing forehead, Damon loomed over him.
“I guess that’s all?” he sighed. “Honestly, for a knight, you’re not much. I’m surprised Alfonso chose you to be his candidate.”
Sir Malcom’s teeth gnashed. “Don’t mention his name lightly like that, you scum.”
“Shut up,” Damon sighed again. “You have no right to defend him when you’re this weak.”
He raised his arm and swung the back side of his hand directly into Sir Malcolm. The knight was struck hard, with the slap echoing throughout the arena. Cheers and gasps from the crowd ensued as the staggering man slumped onto his knees and eventually onto the ground.
…
The round was over. Damon let out yet another heavy sigh as he turned away. He walked over toward his mask partner, who sat in the corner of the arena, crouching down in front of them. “Will you help me in the next round?” he asked. “It’s the semifinals, so I’ll need your help.”
Of course, there was no response. ‘Mask’ simply tilted their head slightly before returning to their stoic nature. Damon chuckled, stretching his legs as he flailed a loose hand. It didn’t matter if he was getting help or not. He believed he’d win regardless. He had to.
Dr. Scale’s brows furrowed as he watched Damon exit the arena with that Masked fool. Malcolm and O’Conner were both Warrior Examination Candidates, so he had high hopes they’d stop their charge to the final. But of course, they didn’t.
So, I’ll be seeing more of that masked person, he thought. Chances are high that Damon will be able to take them to the final. Just great.
As he continued to wallow, the next fighters made their way into the arena. That boy with the ruby-red eyes – Hitto, was back. The invigilators had told the doctor much about his earlier performances and achievements. He was one to keep an eye on.
But his opponents were no laughing matter either. Stefon and Monica are two Warrior Examination Candidates selected by the Blacksmiths Guild Master. They’ve done well to make it this far with strong teamwork and a wide array of skills. Plus, they have the advantage of being two fighters instead of one.
No offence to Nally Stenner, the doctor sighed. But from what I’ve heard, she hasn’t done anything.
And with that last thought, the countdown began, quickly striking one. Instantly, the crowd roared as Monica and Stefon charged in, covering the flanks. They activated incantation 15 onto their swords, enveloping the blades with fire and water, respectively. Then, they quickly began to circle around their two foes, who could do nothing but prepare to defend.
A basic tactic, the Dr. Scale smirked. They’re probably aware that Hitto is the only real threat. Trapping him in that circle with Nally will force him to protect her, meaning less energy to attack the candidates. It’ll be interesting to see how he handles this.
After around five minutes, Monica broke the routine, beelining fast toward Nally. Her flame-enveloped blade burned even brighter with each step as the distance was all but closed. Hitto acted quickly, attempting to come between the two yet failing to see Stefon, who was coming in from his blind spot.
At the very last second, Monica pulled out, and Stefon managed to land a clean slash onto Hitto’s back. The pain on his face was all too visible for the doctor, who winced for him with an amused expression.
What will you do, Hitto? He smiled. Can you overcome these two Warrior Examination Candidates, and if so, will you stand a chance against Damon? Show me your strength!
