Krellon stood, astounded. The person before him was a complete and utter novice when it came to handling the sword and from what little he had seen, combat in general. There was not even a hint of mastery of the sword, nor any movements that suggested some basic footwork techniques. His movements did allude to some basic combat knowledge, but it was nothing when compared to what everyone else currently within the tower could do.

  Everyone, unless they were some kind of genius, would spend at least one or two decades practicing and forging their bodies. Yet, the person before him exhibited none of that training.

  His foundation was weak. His stance, nonexistent. For all intents and purposes, he should not have been sent to the Frontier, especially during the first wave which was traditionally reserved for the best of the best.

  It’s almost like he’s from a newly integrated planet, but that can’t be, the portal isn’t open yet. Also, Krellon narrowed his eyes, Ondal was seen showing him around and even gave him treasures. Was it a favor? A game? No, that Monarch tends to be kind. Maybe it’s pity, but that wouldn’t explain the treasure that he handed to him.

  Yet, despite the glaring flaws that he kept noticing, Krellon was astounded by what he saw. The amateur literally had a revelation mid fight and with it, he barely understood the basics of the sword, or at least that’s what he thought at first. Suddenly, the man began to ramp up.

  The sword strikes were no longer basic and simple movements. A downward slash unexpectedly turned diagonal, grazing his side. The shaking that should’ve accompanied his weak attempt at a block, was nowhere to be seen.

  Krellon’s eyes peeled. “He deflected it perfectly,” he muttered under his breath, the words escaping him.

  With each passing moment, the strikes that the man attempted became more frequent, while the blocks that Krellon himself had to make increased by the same amount. There was still an ocean of difference between the two, but Krellon was interested in what was happening before him and he wanted to see more.

  Slowly but surely, Krellon began to ramp up as well. More speed, more techniques and more importantly, more intent. He had completely forgotten about his original objective, now he only wanted to see what the man before him was capable of doing and to see just how far he could be pushed.

  ----------

  With every clash of metal, Eric could tell—his opponent didn’t consider him a threat at all. His eyes were full of curiosity and nothing else, the greed having dissipated. Now, there wasn’t even a hint of danger from their behavior, only building anticipation. And it disgusted Eric to his very core. To be looked down upon so blatantly, the rage within him began to bubble.

  But unlike before, where he felt that the distance between his opponents and him was an impossible abyss, this one felt lesser, more surmountable. His opponent didn’t feel that much stronger than him, nor did he possess some weird physical abilities that will electrocute everything around him. No, this was more akin to an amateur fighting against a practiced martial artist.

  It will be difficult, but not impossible.

  That spark of realization fueled Eric’s resolve. Now, making a considerable effort to redirect the anger that demanded that he end his opponent, Eric continued his relentless flurry of strikes. Each swing of his sword grew heavier, each blow more forceful, becoming ever so slightly harder to block. And beneath it all, something stirred within him. Something that demanded to connect, expand, and grow.

  “Aggh!” Eric grunted as he blocked a heavy sword strike that sent a jolt through his arms.

  His opponent, almost like a mirror, was also picking up the pace. The movements of his opponent adjusted effortlessly, matching Eric’s rising tempo. If Eric made a simple swing, his opponent would respond with a simple block. A slightly more complex strike was met with an equally calculated parry that was easy to follow, keeping the flow of the fight just within Eric’s reach. It was as if the man wasn’t trying to defeat him, but test him, as if he was waiting for something.

  When Eric realized what was going on, he reframed his thoughts. No, this isn’t possible. At least not how I thought it would be. If I really want to overcome this, I need to take advantage of his current attitude, and either kill him quickly or run away.

  Then, that something that demanded connection became clear to Eric. It wasn’t just rage or desperation. It was a force that wanted to connect, to unlock whatever was keeping him shackled. Every strike stirred it awake, agitating it further. IT’S MANA!! his mind screamed with realization.

  Multiple somethings deep within him began to stir violently. It was clear that he had discovered something that affected not only him, his sword, or his current situation. It affected his entire being. Every weapon, every movement, and more importantly, every skill.

  Mana demanded to connect to his sword and hands. That’s not to say that there hadn’t been any before, it just wasn’t as much as his body wanted to push toward it. His body was both his greatest ally and greatest enemy. It was his body that stopped the rush of mana, but it was also his body that attempted to push the mana, and it made perfect sense. If his body just pushed the mana, harm would be done to his muscles, nerves and the entirety of his hand.

  The familiar tug of the System was drowned out by the chaotic emotions he was feeling.

  This is like the rush I feel when I use Mental Focus. But the amount of mana is so much less, it’s why I hadn’t noticed it until now. Eric’s mouth began to turn into an odd grin. Now I just have to find the right way.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  With his senses heightened, Eric tasked Mental Focus with finding the path that his mana followed to reach his sword. He could do it himself with Mana Insight, but he was currently in a fight and didn’t have the leisure to just do as he wished.

  Focusing intently on his opponent, now Eric had to buy time until his skill gave him a solution. Just a little more time.

  ----------

  The battlefield was in chaos, with waves of spore-infested figures charging forward relentlessly. Amidst the chaos, the heavy hitters easily distinguished themselves from the rest of the tower participants and quickly began to make their way toward the giant mushrooms that used trees as limbs.

  The lightly armored minotaur leaped into the air, their double-sided axe brandished and enveloped by a chunk of hardened earth. Descending heavily, and with a powerful crash, he struck the ground. The impact was so forceful that it uprooted every tree in the immediate vicinity, exposing the network of roots beneath.

  Seeing the roots exposed, the hooded figure, now with only three contained blue flames, wasted no time and leaped into action. Brandishing a single flame, the figure moved with graceful, dance-like precision, directing the flame. The flame first targeted the vulnerable roots. As the blue fire engulfed the exposed roots, it spread, searing through them and cutting off any chance for the giant mushroom to regenerate its limbs.

  As some of the foliage-covered horde approached, threatening to become an inconvenience, the figure’s flame seemed to vanish for a moment, only to ignite again on their fists. Even the slightest graze from their flame-covered hand was enough to incinerate the spore-infested enemies to cinders.

  Mercer, meanwhile, had climbed onto one of the three mushroom heads, not the main central one, but one of the lateral ones. With great force, he plunged his staff into the into the spongy surface and began to infuse as much poison as he could.

  The mushroom quickly began to gain a sickly appearance. What appeared to be its skin began to gather and crumple, resembling a rotten piece of flesh as it fell to the ground. As soon as these chunks touched the ground, the ground became just as sickly, vapors began to exude from the ground, killing all nearby life.

  “Be careful!!” someone shouted in the chaos.

  “Avoid the poison!!” another added.

  Wu Ling appeared behind Mercer, grabbing him by the neck and disappearing just as unnoticed as she had appeared.

  The poisoned mushroom began to collapse, but that wasn’t all. The main mushroom made a desperate effort to remove the infection before it could spread to the rest of its body. It yanked and ripped the poisoned mushroom apart.

  “Run!!”

  “Take cover!!”

  “Hurry!!!”

  The giant remains fell to the ground, infecting the land and causing everyone who was fighting nearby to disperse, though some noticed far too late. Those caught under the massive debris screamed for help, but their cries were quickly silenced by the overwhelming toxin. Now, their bodies remained under the large mushroom, perhaps forever.

  “Aaaaah!”

  “Help!!”

  “Somebody, help—aggg!”

  Appearing behind the minotaur, Wu Ling shouted. “Cover us minotaur!!”

  Mercer needed to recover from the great amount of poison he had just used, he was barely standing as he used both his staff and Wu Ling as support. On the other hand, Wu Ling herself had forced her concept to be, instead of waiting for it to naturally flow. They both needed time.

  “Alright then!” the minotaur shouted. Flipping his axe upside down, he plunged it into the ground.

  The ground rumbled beneath them, and a circle of hardened earth began to rise, forming a protective barrier around the trio. Small peaks shot up, encasing them in a sturdy wall.

  “Thanks,” Mercer said as he fell to ground, breathing heavily.

  “No problem,” the minotaur said as he approached the pair. His voice was like that of a grizzled old man, but there was kindness underneath it all. “Harkus,” he added, his hand outstretched.

  “Mercer,” he said, grasping the minotaur’s hand firmly. “Wu Ling,” he added, gesturing at his companion.

  “I’m well aware of who you are,” Harkus said.

  Mercer nodded.

  “You have a plan to finish this? Time’s running out,” Harkus said.

  Mercer spat to the side, his face twisting with disgust. “That believer… we could use his flame.”

  Harkus nodded, acknowledging the distaste many held for the Flamebearers. “They only have three left. Do you think they’ll be willing to use another? I mean, we’re still on the first floor.”

  Before anyone could respond, the earthen walls around them began to tremble as enemies battered against the barrier.

  Turning to the source of the sound. Harkus let out a sigh, tightening his grip on his axe. “Let’s just see what happens.” With a resolute stance, he readied himself for the next wave of combat.

  ----------

  At the same time that Eric entered the tower, portals similar to those used for incursions but considerably more modern, appeared on every settlement that had participants that had agreed to participate in the tournament.

  The portal, unlike those used for incursions that were made completely of stone, was made of metal and was clearly made with much greater precision and care. This particular one had been sealed off as soon as it appeared, obscured from the general populace.

  “Are you sure this is wise, sir? We are sending away our strongest fighters. What if we are attacked in the meantime?” one voice full of worry, albeit calm worry, said.

  “We have no choice. There are so many things we don’t know about this new world. What or where is Solace? And how did it gather so many high rankers? Did you see? Littler light of Solace, they popped out of nowhere, overtook everyone else and they are now number one.”

  “But sir.”

  “There’s also that whole business with worlds merging. My gut tells me that we weren’t merged with uninhabited worlds. No, this screams at another faction, maybe even another species coming into the fray.”

  “All the more reason to—.”

  “We also lack any knowledge of what our old allies and enemies are doing. We need information and this tournament is our best chance. Plus, we might get the chance to meet old friends.”

  “You don’t seriously think that’s her, do you sir?”

  The man laughed for a good while. “Who else would have the gall to call themselves “The General,” other than her. If we’re lucky, she’ll be with her whole family. All of them are a bunch of monsters that I’m sure only became worse after everything changed.”

  “Would she still work under you sir? I mean, what can we offer her that she can’t just take?”

  The man stood, walking toward the glass window that covered the wall top to bottom. Before him, beyond the windows, a giant sprawling city unfolded. The edges appeared to be heavily fortified, while toward the center it appeared to be far calmer and more relaxed, more like a normal city, where people walked and shopped like normal.

  “We might have lost the dollar, my dear Linda, but money still reigns supreme, and I doubt anyone has more than us,” he said with a grin as he looked at his hub’s window.

  New York Level 9

  Store

  Management!

  Credits 4,988,575

  “Understood.” Linda took a sigh. “Anything you need me to prepare?”

  “Nothing at the moment. Now leave and send our fighters in.”

  “As you say mister president.” With a small bow, Linda left the room, leaving the president alone to wander in his thoughts.