“What kind of company makes you show up in person for an interview?” St3alth said, continuing our conversation as we teleported into the arena.

A quick scan of the arena told me this was a medium size, square shaped room, with a stone pathway around the perimeter. Dirt paths led down from the elevated perimeter to cross in the middle of the room, with a large open area and a dirt floor.

“Something about tests that can’t be done virtually. It’s not like our personal AI keep records of our DNA or anything.” Chewme said, oozing sarcasm. “Lucius. When are you up?”

“I’m interviewing for Codename: Freedom this morning. In the vehicle now. Will be gaming with you guys until Destiny gets close enough to dropping me off.” I answered, standing there decked out in epic items; a green leather jacket, with a mythalloy chain shirt underneath and my demon spine rapier on my belt. Everything I wore looked rather bland in comparison to most max level items. It was by design. Why advertise strength? I still wore a flashy green-mythalloy Crescent Helm that collected my sweat soaked brown hair like a magnet. What can I say? The stats were worth it. Our guild symbol, three diamonds interwoven with each other currently embroidered the chest of my jacket.

The comfortable breeze that always greeted new participants to the arena never got old. Such a small detail had become a treat that I had been experiencing daily for just over two years now. I would miss the rush that accompanied it if I was selected for Codename: Freedom.

All three of us stood at the top of a path leading down. Sticking to the manmade walkways would be best. Heavy overgrown foliage made it impossible to see from one path to the other once you left the stone perimeter. I didn’t even want to try wading through it.

“St3alth. Stick high and we will go low?” I asked.

He had already gone invisible. An ethereal shadow-cloak rippled behind him as it flapped in the non-existent wind. There was very little air flow in this arena, but items like his cloak were self-animated for the sake of style. He didn’t share my philosophy on style.

The rest of him was just as transparent, only visible to Chewme and me because we were in his group. His mask was pitch leather, fully covering his face except for his mouth. Midnight’s Kiss, a knife formed from obsidian ice, was held flat against his cheek as he pretended to ponder my question.

“Really Lucius? Like you will wait for me? You are too focused on gaining fans. Didn’t your AI teach you how to share?”

“Must I teach you a lesson about complaining?” Destiny, my AI replied, projecting her voice into the group chat channel that was translated into text. She was currently running my gaming system, as well as directing my car. She had no physical body, but was in my head, literally. Or more accurately, my (mixed reality) MR gear, or headset.

A boisterous chuckle came from the large man to my left.

“Jealous?” Chewme asked.

Flashing towards St3alth’s head, a claymore stopped an inch from his skull.

Crossing his arms, St3alth dared Chewme to proceed.

Standing about my height, I’d be lucky if my thigh was as thick as Chewme’s arm. With chopped blond hair and a strong jaw, he was our smiley melee brute. Donning a fur cloak over a Mythsidian Mail, a glassy black steal chain-linked armor, he was consistently sparing with the assassin.

With a shift from his shoulder, the claymore tapped the assassin on the head twice. “Just be ready. It’s not our fault if you’re slow.”

St3alth lunged forward, knife aimed at his throat.

Chewme’s eyes went wide.

The knife stopped before it reached the skin.

Eyes still wide, Chewme pulled the sword in and tapped St3alth on the head once again.

I choked down a laugh.

“You see him.” Destiny confirmed.

Spotting movement of a player moving down the opposite path to the arena floor, I took the initiative and left them to their foolishness. “By the way, would you two kindly back me up? I’m moving in.”

There was no longer any sign of the players that had been at the other end of the arena. That could mean many things, but there was a precaution that had to be taken.

“Possible assassin. Stay back. I’ll be the bait.” I group messaged them so I wouldn’t audibly be heard.

Glancing quickly across the bottom of my peripheral vision was an ethereal status bar that kept me updated on our current stats.

15,019 Total Viewers

9, 475 Guild Viewers

5,544 Group Viewers

2,433 Lucius’s Followers Viewing

Lucius’s Fame

Rank 674 of 263,653,741 Players

Sadly Gravel didn’t show us how many viewers were watching our opponents. Their popularity might give away how good they were.

“Focus Lucius.” Destiny chided.

“Yes dear.”

I could feel Destiny’s eyes roll back as opposed to see them. Normally having her appear in a small window at the edge of my vision let me better communicate with her, but now was not the time for that. We had a job to do.

S3alth wasn’t wrong about my concern for gaining fans. To be a pro you had to do more than play it smart. To be great you had to put on a show. As ridiculous as we acted, all three of us knew what had to be done. Our audience awaited us.

To the assassin I would look like a delightfully easy target. My rapier was strapped at my waist, fastened over a loose fitting jacket. I fit somewhere between a mage or a monk with a sword. My cool-green sleeves were rolled up showing abnormally large forearms for a magic user. There was no visible armor or magic shield. Yet I walked toward the known threat with assured defiance.

Reaching the bottom of the path I stopped when I reached the center and let him come to me. Closing my eyes, there was only one sense that would help me now.

This group that we faced wouldn’t be here if they didn’t qualify as better than good. We were in the legendary class, the highest tier in the arena with only the top 10,000 ranked guilds. There was no chance this assassin would be a push over or have any less than max level gear. My rarely used Spell-Sword profession gave me an advantage. He would underestimate me. They always did; the first time.

Chewme and St3althL0rd were sitting tight, waiting on the assassin to make his move. We all understood our places in this fight from thousands of similar encounters.

There was only one direction where sound came unnaturally. The subtle brushing of a boot against dirt, an odd leaf softly crunched under foot, and only the smallest of twigs snapping. The sound slowly shifted around me in a wide 20 meter perimeter.

Opening my eyes, they didn’t shift, but remained forward. Sound was all that existed. It could be said that my approach was a gamble. That it was possible to hear someone approaching, but it was insane to depend upon it when your life was on the line.

The feeling of fear and nervousness had long ago been trained out of me with only anticipation remaining as the invisible assassin stalked me. No assassin would attack me from the front. The flank and rear were too tempting.

To the left came a soft step as he began to close in.

I didn’t flinch from the realization.

He was not just good, but exceptional. By this time even the best assassins would have rushed in because they thought I was either easy prey, or had fled because I was acting odd. He stalked me with patience, not succumbing to his own nerves.

Fifteen feet. His pace slowed.

Destiny and I had practiced this same situation a thousand of times. It was up to me. She insisted I had ears. Not to use them was idiotic.

Ten. He stopped and awaited any reaction I might have.

At this distance, there were a number of skills that could help him close in quickly. If he activated any of them I would only have a split second to react. After a long number of seconds he stepped forward.

Five. I was now in danger of not being able to react quickly enough to his assassin specialty skills. The danger was there, but I had faced this situation before. I knew it intimately.

My anticipation grew. I felt he was a step away from driving his deadly knife into my ribs.

Appearing out of stealth, he was behind me, slightly to my left.

The whole time I had been gathering mana in my gut. With a simple exhalation of breath all of the pressure that had built up let loose. I didn’t direct it. Like a bomb the mana converted into pure force as it left my body, creating a wave of magic erupting in all directions.

His knife shot forward. The assassin was swept hard by the force. Flying back, he cleared over 10 feet of ground.

Throwing out my hand, I cast a grand-master level force field just before he landed. His body accordioned in midair as his skull collided against the invisible wall. His neck snapped.

Bowing my head, I honored him, as well as played to the viewers.

I withdrew the force field. It was a huge mana sink, but when mastered the use for force fields went far beyond defense.

“You left your force field active two tens of a second longer than necessary wasting 40 manna.” Destiny stated.

A blur of motion shot toward me. My rapier was out and flicked the arrow aside before it found my chest.

“One archer,” I called.

“One mage,” Chewme added, storming down the path, joining me at the center of the arena.

Crimson fire hurled our way before I saw the player who had cast it.

Turning his shoulder, the bolt easily missed my friend.

Using the foliage to our advantage, we split up, standing to either side of the path they would have to take to join us on the arena floor. Even with their advantage in elevation, they couldn’t see through the greenery. The mage may decide to burn us out, but it would take a while to get a fire started and cost him a lot of mana.

An arrow landed close to where I stood, hinting that the archer had moved down the path to get a better angle.

Chewme noticed as well. “Rush?”

“Give them a moment. I want to get an idea how brave or stupid they are.”

When no more arrows or mage bolts came, I peeked around the corner. The archer unleashed an arrow that I easily pulled back from.

“Three left.” Destiny informed us. “They have a battle ax wielder in full platemail. Be ready.”

“I got him.” Chewme replied.

“I’m behind them at the top of the path. Ready when you are!” St3alth said.

Daring another look, I saw their armored tank bounding our way. Both the mage and archer were a good ten feet behind ready to attack as soon as either of us engaged. It was a good basic strategy.

Looking to my friend, a nod set him off.

We both rushed forward. I lunged at their tank, my sword doing little against his polished breastplate.

Chewme took full advantage of the split second I had bought him. His sword tore the wind from below, knocking the warrior back two paces. I had already rushed past, leaving the tank to him.

An arrow engulfed in blue light and a fire bolt launched toward me at the same time from a distance that was impossible to dodge. With my empty hand stretched forward, my force field appeared momentarily deflecting the projectiles.

“Better. A tenth of a second too long.” Destiny said.

The mage retreated, but the archer managed to unsheathe a short sword to engage me.

Jabbing at the archer's head, I cast an ice bolt of my own, impacting the archer’s foot. It was a low level spell. Most of the spells of a spell-sword were about the same low rank, but it was enough to stagger him to his knees.

The mage was about to leave my short range, so I cast force field once again. He ran face first into a small wall of energy about the size of a dinning plate.

My neck tensed at just the thought of how it felt. A tank would have just shrugged it off, but casters were fun to mess with.

St3alth decided to join us. Becoming visible behind the magic user, he slashed him across the neck, then stabbed him in the back in one fluid motion. For all St3alth’s complaining, it was rare that he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be.

Too bad they didn’t save the assassin for later. It may have been a closer fight.

The archer began to regain his footing. His eyes were locked on me. Without his bow his class skills would be limited.

I bowed slightly, with a flourish from my sword, urging him to stand.

St3alth just stood back and watched as Chewme and I handled the remaining two players.

With his short sword in one hand and bow in the other, he stabbed at my waist, holding his bow up for extra cover. He was well practiced.

I stepped back, his sword just missing, another ice bolt flew from my hand at his face. He twisted wildly, placing his bow between him and the bolt. Impressive agility.

Thrusting down, my blade pierced between the string and shaft of his bow, jabbing his thigh. Jumping back, I severed the bowstring with a flick.

Who could help but smile? I could almost feel new subscribers joining my gaming channel. If I entertained them enough, many benefits would follow. More followers meant more sponsors. Those not watching now would watch today's highlights later. Some followers would even donate money. Enough followers and I could attract one of the big sponsors and get a full ride to game for a living. That was the goal and my high school career was almost over.

“Focus Lucius.” Destiny reminded.

As cruel as it might seem, I wouldn’t finish this guy off quickly. That would waste an opportunity. Nor would I make the fight look even. He was likely a semipro himself, so defeating him was just another opportunity for him to learn. I had been there before.

Casting an ice bolt at his feet, I slashed down from overhead. He was too slow to dodge them both. Choosing to take the bolt to the leg, I caught him in the same foot as before. This time he kept himself from falling to his knees. I took the opportunity to leave him a deep puncture wound to the shoulder.

Spell-swords were popular with new players, but rarely played well. Unlike most professions that had very obvious strengths, we had a larger variety of options due to the ability to cast spells and fight with weapons. Most serious gamers dismissed us entirely. The spell-sword’s spells and sword skills were at the best average, except for one spell that you could max. When used in unison with the right build and strategy, the spell-sword was unbeatable.

He attacked next, realizing there was little chance to win. I shifted slightly, letting his thrust pierce my shoulder. The stinging sensation was nothing to laugh about because Gravel allowed the legal maximum of 40% pain. I literally felt 40% of the calculated pain for a maximum of five seconds.

Another thrust came, this one wilder than the first.

It was all a part of the show.

Parrying his thrust, I sidestepped as he passed, smacking him on the rear with the blunt of my sword.

When he turned, I was already casting a bolt, which hit him in the chest.

Still unwilling to give up, he threw his bow at my head, and slashed at my knee. It would have worked too, but he collided with a quickly cast force field as he lunged forward.

You fought well.

My sword pierced him high in the chest, easily exiting his back.

He met my eyes as his health drained from his body. Knowing what it was to lose countless defeats, I bowed my head to acknowledge him as he disintegrated into pixels.

Chewme mocked me for honoring the enemy, but I saw no reason to rub a person’s defeat in their face.

“There he goes again.” St3alth joined me after my opponent had fallen.

Hearing the clang of steel, I knew what he was referring to before I even looked.

Despite what you might have seen in virtual movies, or games, swords aren’t very useful against full platemail. This VR game, Gravel, had a real world physics engine, so despite magic and special skills, everything was else dependent on natural laws. Few people had the real life strength to pierce steel even with the sharpest blade. Chewme was an exception. Since our game characters were based upon our real life bodies, Chewme was as massive here as he was in the real world. The game had no choice but to throw this into its physics calculations.

The man he faced barely held onto his two handed axe. It drooped to his side, held by his only good arm. What had once been well polished armor was now dented in from every angle. One arm showed divotted steel just below the shoulder. Blood flowed from the cracks at his elbow. If that was the only damage, then the guy would have been able to continue. His platemail at the thigh and knee was also crushed. Blood seeped out at the knee and boot.

Chewme spun. His claymore gained maximum velocity. The man braced with his good leg, taking the blow on his good arm. The axe fell from his grip. His armor was damaged near the wrist. Already blood was pooling into a drop at the tip of his hanging gauntlet.

Allowing the man to forfeit at that point would have been the sane thing to do. The open mouthed smile on Chewme’s face showed he was too far gone to stop now.

“Stop Chewme!” Destiny messaged. Group chat wasn’t the same as yelling where someone could actually hear you though.

Even with a weaponless opponent, Chewme spun again, this time elevating his sword and bringing it down from over his shoulder. The vicious blow crippled the man’s remaining good leg. He fell hard to his side, landing with his arm unnaturally underneath him.

It had gone on long enough.

“Chew!” I yelled.

He tilted his head to the side like a questioning canine. Placing his foot on the man’s shoulder, he leaned on him as he might a footstool.

“Oh. You guys are already finished?” He asked, smirking with mock innocence.

“End it.”

“Fine, fine.”

Before he could act, confetti fell from the sky like a colorful snowfall.

“Winner Guild Nexus!” Declared the announcer.

Chewme’s footstool dissolved, the player had either died from his wounds or forfeited. It also meant that the bloodlust loving, bear of a man, stumbled forward and almost falling over.

An annoyingly loud cackle came from St3alth.

Humorous or not, we both looked at him like he was mad.

Now that the fight was over we had the option to fight again, leave for the spectators lounge or return to our guild base.

First thing I did was check our viewer stats. Another three hundred people were watching us live. More importantly, twelve more people had followed my channel. It was a nice bump for a few minutes work.

“How much time you have left Lucius?” Chewme asked.

With a thought, the real world time appeared at the top right of my vision. About 8:15 am.

“I still have half an hour before I arrive.”

“A few more matches then?” St3alth asked.

“Absolutely. As many as possible. I’ll be going through testing for the rest of the day.”

“Nothing to worry about. The hardest part is not getting bored.”

“Be sure to let us know how it goes.” Chewme said. “My testing is next Saturday.”

“I thought they have banned all galactic space walruses from trying out.” St3alth replied.

“They did until they saw you. What did they say? Anything would be better than giving a ninja cockroach one of the 100,000 spots!”

Rolling his eyes, St3alth turned back to me. “You think you’re ready for the interview?”

“More than ready.” I replied. “Destiny and I have practiced interview questions for more hours than I care to remember.”

“Can I go on a date with her?” St3alth asked, again.

“No for the thousandth time! She’s an AI… And way too classy for you.”

“What Lucius said.” Destiny replied.

“Fine. Then let’s continue. Let’s head to the lounge and try 3 vs 5. If there are any girl players, I call first go!”

“To kill them, or flirt with them?” Chewme asked.

“To fight them first. Then after they are impressed…”

“I don’t think girls find guys that kill them attractive.” I said.

“I’m looking for a special kind of girl. Don’t step all over my dreams.”

“Some dreams can get you prison time.” Destiny teased.

I teleported to the lounge, ending the conversation.