Damn it, I forgot about the fucking Profession again.
I cursed myself, damn near slamming my Wakizashi's down out of frustration had there not been a massive group of people suddenly bustling all around me. My anger quickly faded from the roar of footsteps, chatter, and distant explosions, replaced with bewilderment at the scene.
The colorless void was now a massive, seemingly endless structure filled with other people. There's no telling how many magnificent sparring arena's this place holds, each in my view glowing its own respective combination of colors. The aisles of arena's continued stretching as far as the eye could see. The sky overhead was packed tightly with bright stars and constellations I'd never seen before, illuminating the place no worse than Earth's sun would. I could have sworn a few clusters of stars were subtly moving in concert. An incalculable crowd of people flocked around some the strangest culmination of biomes cramped together that I've ever seen. Every few hundred yards, the environments surrounding the arenas changed drastically in nature. One fighting arena's borders were completely engulfed by twisting, unrecognizable flora.
Towering flowers with massive sharp teeth and appendages, trees with faces screeching an ungodly high pitch while radiating a green mist from their multi-colored bark. Insects the size of apples with all kinds of fluorescent colors replicating the plant life it apparently inhabited scuttling about. They even appeared to nestle together in lines, like fans watching sports. Even weird humanoid shaped…bushes?
It was hard to explain, but the broccoli people seemed enthralled with the fight already underway within their wild confines. It seems odd that I was clearly so late to the party here. Based on the wide-eyed glances most everyone adopted, it appeared to me that people have been waiting for…something.
Not far from the flowery battleground stood another, completely engulfed in magma and molten rock all around. Giant fiery slugs could be seen slowly ascending an active volcano that was absurdly out of place in this relatively cool climate. The fire slugs were shooting molten lava rocks from what I assumed was some metallic shell, and consumed my absolute attention. That is until the short guy getting his head lopped off by the blonde woman he was fighting took precedence.
Woah, who's that?
She had to be fast, because I never saw her damn arm move. Then again, they're about a mile out, and while my perception is already admittedly far keener now that these stats changed how my eyes seemed to feel and function, I couldn't make out more than hair color and sex based on their shapes.
I started shuffling through the crowd, trying to make my way further down a painted path, one of many, to get a view on some more fights in different arenas.
Maybe they have a water arena, too.
How silly, of course they did, I'm sure that one's plenty popular, too.
While freeing myself from the crowd of panicked, dead-faced folks, I internalized my disapproval for their clambering about how unfair this whole thing was. Or the occasional 'this isn't real, this isn't real.'
Sheesh, maybe pull together in case it is.
I dismissed my judgement as quickly as it spiked from the pit of my surprisingly bitter spirit at the moment, because honestly who the fuck was I? What normal human being enjoyed getting fucked up for the sake of getting better at fucking other people up? Well...technically a lot, but to expect that masochistic merit from the average person was totally unfair. People were entitled to live however they saw fit. That may change due to whatever the fuck is really going on, but it can't be because of me. I like brash solutions, not creating problems.
Finally, after sliding uncomfortably against countless shoulders and awkwardly twisted legs, I emerged free of the nervous group. Before I could get a move on towards the fiery death pit to talk to its newest victor currently strolling her way out of the arena however, a hologram of a semi-transparent blue woman manifested in front of me.
Hello, welcome to the Proving Grounds. Here, you will be fighting your peers from your plan-
I peered around the babbling projection in time to catch a glimpse of the woman at the furthest depths my vision, just barely making out a few details. My eyelids fluttered in disbelief at noticing her dark leather armor was spotless. She'd been surrounded by all that fire, in the literal heat of battle, and yet not a stain or scratch on her to show for it. Part of me wondered where the hell these kinds of women were before the 'integration' cause…damn.
Realizing I'd been receiving some sort of lecture this entire time, I reverted my attention back to the hologram midway through her rambling.
-member there's no room for error, and any fatal blow will result in an immediate loss and disqualification from the tournament. Fight well, human, the multiverse is watching!
The hologram was especially chipper delivering that last line, but I had no clue what she meant by that.
'The multiverse is watching'?
I realized there's a good chance I was supposed to listen, but I couldn't find any button or laser I passed over to trigger this thing to start talking again. Come to think of it, there weren't any lenses for the projection to display through to be seen either. It was just a bland marble floor at my feet, much like the narrow pathways separating each amazingly constructed and decorated arena. Along its borders, colorful designs and glowing symbols corresponding with each arena illuminated the air itself, abruptly halting at the edges like an invisible wall hung along the marble walkway. It may be a tad too tightly packed together, but whoever or whatever being that created this place very much knew what they were doing. A tinge of fear crept into my mind, and I promptly washed it away with a rather simple logic.
They made this for us, for you, why waste this effort to just kill you off after?
My fear subsided approaching the magma spouting arena, spotting a familiar shape on the battlefield.
No fucking way.
Korbin clearly selected medium armor, which made sense considering he was stronger than me by a wide margin, and well…faster. The guy trained me, so I know it should be a given he's going to be better, but holy fuck. I know rationality from not, and his speed pissed me off far more than his strength and knowledge, given his bulky stature.
Anyways, he carried a short sword that resembled that of a Spartans I'd seen in a movie. Crazy good movie, but bad leadership if you ask me. Last I checked, 100:1 odds aren't often ones to be gambling with when your soldiers lives are at stake. I don't know, didn't feel tactically sound, or sound of mind for that matter, but they were great warriors nonetheless. I also zoned out pretty heavily during the slow, talkative moments, as that sort of political bullshit just doesn't interest me even a little.
Korbin was faced off with a rather tall and brick-built opponent but, that probably had little effect on him. He was a few inches under 6-foot, but a lot of egomaniacs over 6-foot like to fight. Because of this, Korbin's had far more experience in dealing with overconfident larger opponents. In what context well, he never truly told me. I technically fell under the same cocky category, giving Korbin very recent practice with a taller opponent as well.
My assumption was I arrived early, based on them both still looking in decent condition. The other guy had long, black hair, and a well kept 5 o'clock shadow, if that makes sense. It was like intentional mediocrity.
'Half-cocked kempt.' Yeah, that's it.
The oddly shaved and clear novice combatant was equipped with a short sword and shield, which he thrusted forward abruptly throwing a charging shield bash.
Oh just GIVE him the win why don't you.
Korbin handedly side stepped using his lead foot to get around the outside of the charging baboon's leg, sliding around the shield hand and across its face before the guy could make direct contact. All the while piercing his sword into the man's rib cage from the back behind his shield, twisting the hilt with his wrist and arm to use the guy's body as an anchor point to swing himself around to get his back. From there, it was a simple unsheathing from the poor sap's side and a slice across his jugular before the man dropped, grasping at his bloody windpipe. Then, he disappeared.
With that, Korbin turned, and was immediately teleported out of the arena two feet in front of me.
"F-fuck?!" I exclaimed. Yeah, I jumped, you have someone teleport 60 yards to you in a blink and remain completely stoic. Equally taken aback at suddenly being no further than 2 feet from each other, Korbin raised his sword to my chest before recognizing me.
"You chose light armor? You fucking idiot." He said, sheathing is blade.
"Good to see you too, ass-hat. What's up with the teleporting and merciless murdering? You get a new job?" I sarcastically retorted with a grin. Korbin refrained from reciprocating, deciding not to drop the armor thing.
"No, seriously, you're an idiot. Why did you pick light armor?" Korbin persisted.
Oh, oh you're serious right now?
"I'm a rogue, I figured this would play to my strengths and optimize movement." I said, confidently. Clearly he assumed me a warrior or el-
"What's your strength stat?" He asked in a deadpan.
"Uhh…12, why?" Korbin slapped his face and looked up at the sky, as if to beg whatever godlike- being running this for patience in this moment. For what, well, he put it bluntly.
"Mine is 18, Tom. Did you even hear the average? You didn't think you could muster the man power to move medium fucking armo-matter of fact, try this on."
Korbin began removing his many straps, rather swiftly at that.
"No I get your poi-"
"No-no, you're gonna. Just give me a sec, and take that bullshit off." Korbin shot back.
I reluctantly stripped away my light armor, and as we exchanged gear, I immediately understood his surprise.
Fuck, this shit is weightless, too.
I mean, fuck dude how could I know? I didn't get too…
"How they fit Tom?" Korbin asked through a smirk and raised brow.
"…pretty good, weightless even." I answered.
"Mhm, when the weird auditor guy brought out the armor, did you try them on, Tom?"
I shrank, probably visibly but definitely internally.
No fucking way, again.
"Yeah, I know you didn't. I bet you checked every SINGLE weapon he sprawled out in front of you though, huh?"
At this point, I waved my white flag four sentences ago, I just realized it now.
"Yes, that I did." I reluctantly admitted.
"Tsk tsk tsk, well, give me my armor back. I'm not wearing this wet napkin when big rewards are at stake." Korbin said, clearly having his fill of razzing for now. I already began unlatching the straps when I perked up at that last part.
"A reward? What kind?" I asked.
"Dude, did you even fucking listen to the Hologram when you got here?" Korbin countered with a sigh. Now, this is usually when I admit I was drooling over a blonde with a clear mean streak which is simply nothing new for me. However, I had accrued far too many losses in a very short period for my liking.
"What exactly do you mean by rewards, Korbin? This is really not the day man, just tell me." I bluntly replied.
Shot in the dark.
"Fuck you." Korbin replied, scrunching his face.
Fair.
"Alright, fine, I was checking out one of the fighters. What do you want from me?!" I finally blurted out.
"…The blonde?" Korbin asked, softening his expression. I nodded regretfully.
"Yeah, that checks out too. Stop thinking with your dick though, you've got a lot of fighting to do with literal Gods watching." Korbin pointed out, reminding me of my lengthy conversation with No-Face.
Oh, right. 'Monkey show'. That's why we're having fun.
"Yeah, sure, some pompous old fucks are going to 'bestow a great blessing upon us'. Think it out man, why would someone of their stature give a shit about us? Let's just get a feel for where we stand on Earth now, and assert that role accordingly to better ourselves for whatever comes next. It's clearly formulaic, we just need time." I replied, wondering if some 'patron' would even be necessary if Korbin and I could fight side by side.
It felt justified, but Korbin thought otherwise.
"I'm gonna stop you there, you have no clue how to level up, and I know that cause I know we can't level here. That's 'cheating' I guess, but if a God likes you, they'll give you some shit you can use for YES amount of time after this. I'm rolling that dice, Tom. Besides, half of these people have never fought a day in their life so far. It's fun here! Enjoy yourself a little." Korbin replied, slapping me on the shoulder. Finally, we agreed on something . I truly was brain dead to what was going on, I just knew the clear path forward was probably through training, as always. Worked before, and why fix what never broke?
"Listen, Tom, I saw a nice little ocean-themed arena down the way. Let's get you penciled in for a fight before they run out of slots, huh? It's just down there." Korbin said, while pointing the direction I was already headed before his act of blatant slaughter distracted me.
"Huge, something I actually like. Thanks, I'll see you around. Oh and uh, good luck man." I reached my hand out for a handshake. Not a business one, we're not 50 year-old men.
"Yeah man, you too. Stay patient, don't forget your training. And try not to get too excited out there, champ." He said, while finishing our handshake. With that, my steps hastened toward my preferred domain for fighting, and I was already way, way too excited.
Day 0: As Expected
My first fight here was…hilarious. The guy chose a Spear, and while he looked physically imposing standing at a burly 6'6 and around 260 pounds off the eye test, that smug grin just screamed idiot.
"Really? This fuckin' pipsqueak? Ha, 'Earth's Finest', what a joke." The bozo chuckled to air while thrusting his open palm towards the sky, and proceeded to just run up and lob his spear at me like a baseball, lifting his back leg like it was the bottom of the 9th.
I didn't really have the time to work up some frustration yet, resulting in myself just chuckling at the sight of this burly mans chauvinistic attitude while his legs struggled to propel his top-heavy build. I water stepped to the side just like, kind of, letting the spear that probably would've missed anyways float past.
Sorry, water stepping was no system skill I secretly picked up, but one vital to my own fighting style. It's a technique I'd been honing before all of this, and the core move to my striking power, movement, Flow. It was the key that unlocked all my favorite techniques. Above all it held a myriad of striking options with it, and I strived to learn and utilize them all.
Looking back into the man's deep brown eyes, I saw fear. Unequivocal, unadulterated, pure regret. I didn't know how to feel at first, I enjoyed knowing what was to come. Though I hadn't anticipated he'd realize the implications so fast, given how fucking mindless that first move was.
I simply water stepped up to the big idiot at a much quicker speed I'd previously displayed, though that says little of the prior. Dude threw relatively hard but not accurately, indicating he's clearly some meathead who thought they'd win every fight with one power move.
Realizing his cocky hubris only sweetened the entire ordeal while twisting my rear foot, slashing out with my lead blade and cutting his arm off. My rear Wakizashi fluidly stabbed through his solar plexus, protruding out his back beside his spine.
Easy, clean, and the guy went out quickly. Outside of the guttural screaming and blood pouring from his armless shoulder all over my armor, invoking involuntary dry heaves out of me.
Other than that, it felt like I was in for a real treat here.
See, I learned quickly never to underestimate an opponent, which was probably why the first guy's attempt at an attack seemed so extra measly. When entering a state I learned as 'Flow' I noticed things tended to physically slow down. This was also something I worked on pre-global kidnapping, and I figured it would carry over. I just had to find it, a beautiful state of motion that was…always hard to properly put into words before.
Luckily, I realized after winning several other marginally tougher fights that Flow was more than that now. It felt so vivid, like it'd become tangible. Similar to the chair from the white room, but in the air. Or, whatever occupied this places atmosphere. Sometimes after meditating between fights, I saw delayed afterimages of blue colors behind my own movements for a brief period.
By the third fight, fighters began feeling qualified for their placement here based on their skills. This one in particular stood around six foot, probably 250 pounds. He stood across from me clutching a halberd, and I was immediately stressed.
Shit, if he knows anything about that weapon, I'm hard-countered.
Dual-wielding swords was great against swords and shields. In fact, it was a suitable option against most weapon combos. But the halberd? No, they won almost every time. It was too much weight for swords to glance blows off of, and its polearm characteristics made dodging nearly impossible within striking range. A reason why certain ancient warriors were highly revered was their skill with the weapon. I did not want to lose so soon, having discovered great joy in meditating between rounds while being surrounded by the sheer serenity this biome let out.
The sounds of crashing water was soothing enough to distract me form what I had to assume were mermaids, at the very least fish people that were watching in silent curiosity. What's crazier was, there were these massive waves crashing all around, as in literally circling the arena. Walls of water hovered in the air, flying and weaving around anything it chose not to clash with, while happily rolling over certain overhanging objects like rock formations.
What's even crazier is it felt like I could sense when it drew nearer. Meditation only amplified this feeling, like a tiny string was connecting myself and the water. There was little time to ponder the sensation unfortunately, as I was faced with my strongest opponent yet, and it showed in his stance alone. The heavily armored halberd wielder readied their weapon in a semi bladed stance, not moving an inch until I stepped forward.
Fucker, he did his homework.
I won the last two fights countering the opponents moves, and with deadly outcomes each time.
It was my style after all, defense is just aggressive countering, where someone attacked meant somewhere else they left a gap, and water always finds its path. Even if it occasionally has to make one, like with the second fight. Asshole chose sword and shield, then proceeded to hide indefinitely behind his shield.
I had to bait the last guy out to make the first move. his initial swing caught me off guard because, my god, it was awful. It was like their shoulder broke, yet he still managed enough courage to wildly fling his sword at me anyways. I merely dodged the first, parrying the following swing with one Wakizashi above my head, angling it downward allowing their sword to sheath down my own blade safely away from my shoulder.
Once his sword slid down to leg-height, I pierced my second Wakizashi into his neck, causing his throat to violently burst like a faulty pipe. The sword and shield wielder dropped both items, grasping the wound in an understandable panic. From there, it was teleport and meditation time.
Now, after water stepping forward at a speed that had proven tried and true up to this point only to bail out, avoiding the slashing halberd moving much faster than it should of, I knew this wasn't going to be such a smooth path back to my meditation station.