Trial By Blood.

It was an option exercised by certain races to settle rivalry or discord. In this particular case, Lukas— and by extension, Tanya herself —held a grievance against the axe-wielding svartalfar. While the svartalfar believed they were trespassers harboring malicious intent, Lukas had boldly proclaimed they were, in fact, seeking employment and simply demonstrating their prowess.

Both held legitimate claims to their own versions.

Both also held the other in absolute contempt.

Competing claims were something the metalcrafters took very seriously. And so of course the brutes would resolve the situation with a trial by combat of all things to see who was right. To them, might truly made right, regardless of the truth.

Tanya couldn’t help but sigh.

“So what happens if we don’t fight?” Lukas asked.

Tanya eyed him warily. “Having second thoughts already?” It wasn’t that she was teasing him. But she needed to know if this trial would devolve into something worse. At the very least, it would give her time to prepare.

“Nah.” Lukas cracked his neck, an easy-going expression stuck to his stupid face. “Just making sure I understand it.”

Tanya took a slow, deep breath. The truth was, she wasn’t sure if he could even fight at all. He had hid it well, but it had not escaped her eyes— her compatriot was far from being the bastion of strength he was back in the anomaly.

He was weak. Terribly so.

Fighting against a bloodthirsty svartalfar when he’d just started to recover a minute fraction of that strength, plus the extra handicap of being unable to use fire, was practically begging for a gruesome death.

She didn’t like the odds.

Not one bit.

So why was this grinning fool looking forward to the fight?

“If you don’t fight for our side of the story, then the svartalfars decide against us,” she explained. “Basically, you’ll be executed on the spot, and I’ll be taken as a prize for the svartalfar whoremasters.”

Lukas looked skeptical at that. “Even though you’re a freelancer under Banksi’s employment?”

Tanya stared at him incredulously. Did he seriously imagine that being a freelancer somehow enabled her to have some sort of diplomatic immunity with the svartalfars? No, she would most definitely be imprisoned in one of their special rooms for the rest of her life, her powers neutralized and her mind bent to accept all forms of brutish treatments these creatures would inflict upon her.

Of course, whether she’d willingly accept said fate rather than skewering the svartalfars until they gorged on their own blood was an entirely different matter.

One that Lukas had no business knowing about.

“This is svartalf territory, not Asukan. And regardless of my heritage or skills, I’d be charged as a criminal and tried guilty. No amount of Asukan diplomacy would help here, and… I’m technically just another skilled bremetan from Baramunz.”

“What about Banksi?”

“What about him?”

“Won’t he feel outraged at the svartalfars taking you captive?”

There was that naiveté again. Just what kind of soft-hearted benefactor did he think Zuken was? The man may have been her employer and, dare she say it, a friend, but even he had his limits.

“He’s a Banksi. Even if he’d somehow pull me out of this place, arbitrage runs in his blood. I’d only sink deeper in his debt.” Her lips twisted in acute distaste. “That is not something I look forward to.”

“And here I thought you guys were buddies.”

“I work for him.”

Lukas huffed. “So what you’re saying is, an ass-kicking’s the only way forward?”

Tanya suppressed a thin smile. If nothing else, Lukas had no dearth of spirit. “That’s right.”

“Good,” the annoying idiot grinned. “Makes things simpler.”

Tanya just shook her head in bemusement and looked around. They were standing at the edge of a large ring bound by a stone-walled perimeter. It was an absolutely crude, plebeian setting for something this significant, but svartalfars were notorious for preferring efficiency and simplicity over grandiose architecture.

This was where the trial would take place. Combat between Lukas and a svartalfar.

She suppressed the growing pit of unease in her stomach.

You can always… give in.

Tanya suppressed a shudder. She wouldn’t go down that slippery slope. She— she couldn’t even think of choosing that option until everything else on the table was thoroughly exhausted. Besides, Lukas seemed confident that he could win. And to her knowledge, he’d won practically every fight he was a part of.

This will be no different.

“Trespasser,” one of the svartalfar, acting as a judge, spoke up in a froggy voice. “You are to face Roffulfet, one of our very own, in a Trial By Blood. It is a Svartalfheim tradition to know the name of one’s kill.”

“Well,” Lukas whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her spine, “these guys certainly don’t lack confidence.”

“With due reason,” Tanya softly retorted. “A svartalfar is no mere metalsmith. He’s a veteran warrior embodying the highest level of skill with the weapon he crafts, both for himself and for others.” She slowly nudged him in his opponent’s direction. “Roffulfet is most likely a master of the axe. Choose your weapon carefully against him.”

“And I can pick any weapon?” Lukas asked, his face calculative.

“Any weapon. Except fire,” she quickly added. She wondered if he was going to choose a pair of sharp blades like he used back in the anomaly. Regardless of his brutish fighting style, he seemed pretty skilled with the dual-wielding style, a rare enough thing among bremetans. It made her wonder who taught him to fight like that.

“What else can you tell me about them?”

Tanya bit her lip. “Svartalfar are ambidextrous, and they’re prideful. Exhaustingly so.” Her lips quivered as she gave in to the turmoil rising in her mind. “You— you have access to other elements, right? Other than fire? Please say yes.”

“I do,” Lukas frowned, massaging the back of his neck, “but using them might not be the best idea.”

“Well then, what about that beast form of yours?”

“Too unruly,” he said, shaking his head. “I need to stay in control.”

“Great,” Tanya exhaled. “Just great. We are so doomed.”

Lukas snorted at her words. “Don’t worry, I’ll win.” He leaned forward, a big grin on his face. “I’ve got a plan.”

I’ll believe it when I see it.

“Your name, trespasser?” the presiding svartalfar pressed.

“Lukas Aguilar.”

“Very well, Lukas Aguilar,” the creature announced. “You may choose any weapon you see fit.”

“Cool, thanks. My hands will do.”

The svartalfar looked like he’d just been slapped. Meanwhile, Tanya helplessly spluttered. What— what was this fool trying to do? Get himself killed? Going bare-handed against a weapons master was just asking to—

A slight chill raced down her spine.

Is he really going to…

As Tanya allowed the thought to trail off, a small smile formed on her face despite herself.

If her hunch was right, this battle would be a delight to watch.

Roffulfet was fast. Very fast. The svartalfar was wielding his massive axe with ease as he leaped from his end of the ring to Lukas’s in a single bound. To a mortal mind, he had all but teleported all the way.

So… yeah. He was fast.

But not fast enough.

Tachypsychia.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The world around Lukas froze. The creature’s movement, which had seemed faster than the eye could comprehend, was now painfully slow. The second he put both feet upon the ground, Lukas observed the sheer motion causing minor tremors to run outwards. Roffulfet had just raised his axe high and was about to bring it down, decapitating Lukas with a neat strike when—

Thump!

His right hand clenched into a fist.

BURST!

And that was Roffulfet’s second problem. He wasn't faster than Thought.

The attack he’d been holding onto lashed out before the svartalfar could do anything about it. The naked howling force sprang out of his fists and slammed into his opponent like a harpoon of pure energy, flinging him away through the air and unceremoniously dropping him down on the floor.

A shocked silence pervaded the room.

“Hell yeah!” he heard Tanya yell.

Lukas smiled. Brutal. Efficient. Effective. If you had no weapons with which to fight the enemy, you simply had to make your enemy be your weapon. Inanna used to say that.

This was how the goddess had trained him to fight.

And fight he would.

“Is that all?” he asked, tilting his head mockingly.

Roffulfet groaned, gnashing his teeth, and phased into the ground.

Lukas frowned. “Well in that case—”

He lifted his leg and then STAMPED down—

BURST [LEVEL 4]

Stone gave away.

A storm of dust and rock filled the air around him. And in the middle of it all was the svartalfar— an injured metalcrafter who’d been caught unaware as the ground he was travelling through was absolutely shattered by the might of the earthquake he’d created.

But more importantly, the shield of debris gave him the cover to do something even more interesting.

This was a Trial By Blood. That meant the loser would die, while the winner was hailed. There was no way Roffulfet would let them get away until he himself was killed.

That fact made the decision easy for Lukas.

“Soul Siphon!”

SOUL SIPHON [LEVEL 3]

Monster prototype: SVARTALFAR

Assimilation Failed!

Lukas frowned, trying again.

Monster prototype: ##$%^[email protected]#

Assimilation Failed!

“…”

What the hell was happening? This was how Soul Siphon worked, wasn’t it? He’d done it to monsters before, and it had worked just fine. Yet this time, it failed. Not once, but twice. And somehow, the second attempt had even less information.

“Lukas…” Tanya called out. “Is there an issue?”

“That is quite the interesting skill,” came the familiar, gravelly voice of Roffulfet. The bruised and battered version slowly turned earthy as it deformed into a golem-like construction. Lukas glanced towards the far edge of the ring, where a healthy Roffulfet sat, his axe casually leaning against his knee. “I am curious how a trespasser learned something as useful as Inner Time Dilation. Unfortunately for you,” the svartalfar grinned, standing up, “an attack that ticklish isn’t enough to even scratch me.”

Lukas gritted his teeth.

And once again, then they went to war.