"We got one, right over here!"

The bald man with the large scar across his chest shouted loud enough that even the people in the mansion would be able to hear him. Quickly following his shout, a path was made for Jacob to enter the square arena.

Jacob kept a cool expression on his face, but deep inside he was regretting this decision. The last time he hit someone was back in fifth grade when the guy took his pudding. That in itself wasn't much of a fight, just Jacob throwing a big hit and the guy falling down on the ground. At the end of the day, Jacob's parents were called in, and he never got his pudding.

He still disliked that guy to this day.

What made him so confident was his knowledge of the game, the skills he's upgraded along with his current stats.

If this was like Pathfinder, stats honestly meant something, but only equated to thirty percent of your real strength, that and your health never went over two hundred points. Everyone who was level one started with fifty health in total, and there were two ways to increase it. One, level up and put more points into strength, as every strength point increased your health by one. Two, put everything into ironflesh, as every point gave you two health points.

That was not the only thing ironflesh did, as you took reduced damage by a certain percent depending on how far you upgraded it. If one managed to place ten points into ironflesh, they would benefit from an increased health regen, not only outside of battle but during battle as well.

Still, to get to that point, he'd need thirty points of strength before he could have ten points into ironflesh.

Jacob entered the square with all eyes on him. He could hear the faint whispers of the guards, some wondering who he was while others asked if he could even fight.

"Jack, get in there! You haven't thrown a blow yet, come and get your feet wet."

One guard shouted, but no one knew who it was. Soon, another path was created for a young teen who looked to be around sixteen or seventeen years old.

Jacob could not be too sure, as he was just a head taller than himself but the muscle on him was something else. His body was well-toned and he seemed to be brimming with energy.

In modern-day, girls would probably chase after him due to his curly blonde hair with hazel eyes. As long as he had a decent attitude, he was sure to be a ladies man.

Jack glanced over at Jacob as he looked him up and down, finding it hard to imagine this little guy was his opponent. He was never one to look down on people, especially those just like him who came from nothing. However, Jacob's noodle-like arms and short stature made him believe this would be a cakewalk. Jack might not be able to see through Jacob's clothing, but he could tell that Jacob was skinny as a toothpick.

In all honesty, he felt sorry for Jacob.

But, a fight was a fight, nothing he could do about it.

The two boys stood three feet apart from each other, while the crowd was deathly silent. From the corner of his eye, Jacob saw some of the guards fork out some silver and pass it over to another man while moving their mouths.

'These fuckers are betting?'

Jacob asked himself.

He would do the same if he were in their shoes and wondered what the rate was. Surely, the coin on him was low, so he had to put on a show.

"Alright, the rules are simple. No one leaves the square until one of you is knocked out. Now fight!"

The man with the long black beard that was tied told the two boys before he stepped away giving them room to duke it out.
Jacob took a stance where his right hand and right foot were forward.

Jack's brows furrowed as he did not know what stance this was, it gave him some confusion. Still, he brought up his fist so he could guard before he slowly moved forward.

Jacob's body started a little bounce as he was getting into a rhythm. As Jack closed in, Jacob stepped to the right moving in a small circle.
It wasn't only Jack who was confused, all of the guards were wondering what sort of fighting style Jacob was using. Many of them had a lot of experience on the battlefield or even pit fights, yet none of them encountered this style before.

Jack saw how guarded Jacob's body was, but still, he needed to test the waters to get a feel for things. Throwing a quick jab forward with his left, Jacob leaned to the side to dodge it while also leaning forward a slight bit.

Right, left.

Jacob's hands moved like a snake as they whipped forward catching Jack off guard. Jack thought he was guarding himself, but reality proved him wrong. Two swift punches landed on his body, one he felt as if he blocked but the other one connected right with his chin.
His body stumbled back as he shook his head a bit.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as the first hits landed.

"What are you doing Jack, get in there! Don't give him any room!"

"Get him kid, I put all my money on you!"

Two men started to cheer louder, raising the excitement of both boys in the square. Jacob was thrilled that those three weeks of boxing lessons were paying off. Not to mention he had the advantage of being a southpaw.

He had this in the bag, all he needed to do was connect a few more blows.

Jacob, feeling he had the advantage went on the offensive, as he danced around Jack while throwing out a jab then a straight. Sometimes they connected, other times Jack managed to dodge or block it.

What felt like two minutes was only thirty seconds, but Jacob could tell he was beginning to exhaust.

'What is this guy made of? Steel? Like, holy hell, I'm landing all these blows but they are doing like no damage.'

Jacob thought to himself as he did a quick one-two combo. Except, when he went in with a straight, Jack deflected it and followed up with a punch of his own.

Sucking in as much air as he could, he started to cough. That punch to the chest hurt causing Jacob to forget his guard and hold his chest tight. Jack gave Jacob no room to breathe as he moved in and struck him hard with a right hook.

Falling to the ground hard, Jacob's vision went dark.

"Fuck Jack, why'd ya hit him that hard?"

The man with the long black beard asked him as he rushed over to Jacob's unconscious body. He checked his pulse to make sure he was still alive and breathed a sigh of relief when he was.

"You weren't saying that when he was hitting me! How was I supposed to know the kid could barely take a punch? You wanted me to throw the fight?"

Jack responded as he felt upset. He was getting beat on the entire time, and when he finally got used to Jacob's one-two combo he was the one being scolded. How in the world was that fair?

"Look at him, all skin and bones. Even I could see his punches barely stung, all he had was that fancy footwork. Still, the kid has talent. Maybe when he learns how to add weight behind those punches will he start doing real damage."

The long black-bearded man said as he picked up Jacob's body and walked him over to the doctor.

Jack could only sigh as he left the square and returned to the crowd.

One of the guards patted Jack on the back.

"Don't feel bad, we all start from somewhere. If he wants revenge, you'll be right here waiting for him."

Jack started to dread the thought of that happening, he did not want to fight Jacob again. He was pretty quick, but those punches and the way he stood was too confusing.

"Here, a cut of what you earned! Be proud, and don't go spending it all on whores!"

Another man appeared on the side of Jack while sliding him some silver into his hand.

"Ugh…"

Jacob groaned in pain as he opened his eyes.

Leaning up slowly, he saw he was next to the doctor, and from the cheers going on the guards were still at it with their beatdown.

"Fuck me."

Jacob said disappointedly, he had high hopes he would win that fight.

"Finally awoke huh?"

The doctor looked over at Jacob and said.

He healed him up real good, but that wasn't saying much considering the way he came here. Jacob's body was already tired and lacking muscle, why he stepped into the square the doctor had no clue. How was he expecting to survive when his body was currently in a weakened state?

"I got to ask you, why did you step into the square? Don't you see how bad your body condition is?"

Jacob did not know, he just wanted to test his own strength with his increased stats. However, those stats were good on paper, but in the fight, they showed no effect whatsoever.

"I figured I would win if I'm being honest."

The doctor laughed as if what Jacob told him was the funniest thing on earth.

"I have to say, being confident is not a bad thing but don't let it go to your head. Too much confidence can get you killed, know what you can and can't do before you actually try something. Rest up and start eating whatever your belly can hold, you need to give your body time to rebuild itself. Now, if you do that, then you can get back into the ring and get your ass beat without me having to work hard."

Jacob listened to the doctor's words and took them to heart. This was most definitely not a game or a dream. He felt the pain, it was too real to be anything otherwise.

In Pathfinder, your stats would not be affected by your body's condition, but here they were. Now that he knew that, he knew what he had to do.

"Drake, I see your work did wonders on the kid. Looks better than when he first stepped into the square!"

The long black-bearded man's loud voice sounded out as he appeared by the deck.

He turned his attention towards Jacob and smiled.

"Ya put up a heck of a fight kid, come stop by again whenever ya want and we'll work on those punches of yours! However, ya have to teach me that fancy footwork of yours! Deal?"

"Toss in some real training and you got a deal."

Jacob quickly replied.

"I like ya kid! What's your name?"

Jacob's first instinct was to say his real name but had to remember that Renold's name for him was Vulcan. Better not get anyone confused.

"I am Vulcan!"

"Alright, Vulcan. Rest up and come find me whenever ya want to train. But, be warned I'm not easy-going so be prepared to feel the pain. And don't come crying to me if ya start shitting blood.