The sun was beginning to crest over onto Red Oak when the half-elf awoke. Adam stared at the door ahead, which was still shut tight from the last night. His body was hot and eager for battle this morning, though his mind was still playing catch up.

‘Oh fiddlesticks!’

He tossed his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He had done a great many things yesterday, though in reality it was almost nothing, but the one thing he hadn’t done was check on his abilities. This morning he forgoed checking on his status and instead hopped onto his feet and then began to change into his clothes that had been drying over the last night.

The one thing he noticed was that half-elves barely sweat. The amount of effort required for a half-elf to sweat was far more than the typical human. He also noticed his typical body odour was rather wooden, very much of the forest. He wondered if perhaps he was of the forest-elf variety.

He looked at the cloak.

The cloak.

The cloak was long and red, and the fur was so soft to the touch. It had been quite hard the night before but Albert assured him that the cloak would soften by morning, and when exposed to the sunlight, some of the red would disappear but it’d be far softer. Right now it was like a cozy blanket, so Adam could only imagine how soft it could truly be. The gold lining on the inside kept the fur in shape. Adam tossed it over his shoulders. It was a heavy addition, like a thick coat, and the cloak flowed down just below his knees. It was held together by two ends by a clasp, which he’d probably change soon since it looked a little too plain. He had the gold to do so, so why not?

The thoughts quickly dissipated though as he made his way down the stairs in his full attire, noting that this morning the guild was abuzz with life. He looked about and noted that everyone had turned to see him.

“Is that him?” a dark skinned man asked with a voice that was very much too joyful for the morning. He was a tall man that was donned within splint armour, with rows upon rows of plates moulded along his body. He had a shield at his side with some sort of symbol, but from Adam’s angle he couldn’t quite see it. He also held a long sword at his side. He was bald, with eyes of wet mud. At his neck was a steel token that had a couple of stamps. “Half-elf, Adam was it?”

“Yes?” Adam asked hesitantly. He didn’t know this man, so how had he known of Adam?

“We heard you’ve got a duel this morning with that Alten prick,” he said with a wide grin.

“Yes.”

“You’re not going to lose are you?”

“No.”

“Good,” he said as he swigged his ale, “because you’re representing the guild.”

Adam nodded his head and then made his way to Emma.

“How sure are you?” a strange voice asked.

Adam stopped and turned to face the voice. It was a woman, he assumed, for she was covered in heavy robes and carried with her a large staff. She was dark skinned as well, though her skin was almost completely black. Her eyes were the same colour as her skin and her clothes were too. Adam shuddered at her gaze, as she looked at him like he were a piece of meat.

“I’m very sure,” Adam replied.

“Should we take some bets?” the dark skinned man asked. “I’m betting on the boy.”

“Alten is the Captain’s boy,” Bobby said. “It’ll be a tough fight. The boy would have grown up with some great tutors.”

“Yeah, but you see that cloak?” the dark skinned man asked. “It screams victory.”

Adam puffed up his chest, rather proud that they mentioned his cloak. He quite enjoyed the cloak, and so he was happy that it was recognised.

“So how much are we betting?” Paul asked as he stepped through the door behind Emma.

“Of course you’d be here when we mention a bet,” Bobby said.

Paul snapped him a look and Bobby went back to his drink. “Who is betting on who?” Paul asked as Emma handed him over a book. Paul then began to write within it.

“I’ll bet ten gold on the feyboy,” the dark skinned man called. “Any takers?”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Bobby said.

“Ten gold on the Captain’s boy,” the dark skinned woman said.

The adventurers continued to banter in such a way for a long while. Most offered ten gold to one another, whereas others bet a gold a piece. There were six parties in total and most of them bet across one another, though there were a few that bet within their circle. Paul was taking note of the bets as an adventurer from each table brought out some coin for Emma to count, who would confirm the business.

Adam noted the dwarven girl in the corner trying to read a book, muttering to herself quietly. There was no way in hell he was able to hear her through all this noise.

PERCEPTION

D20 (2) - Wise (1) = 1

FAILURE!

No way in hell.

“Hah!” a voice cut through the conversations. Out from the corner stood a large figure, their skin green-grey, with two large tusks jutting out from their jaw. The adventurer was wearing plate mail and at his neck was a tag made of steel with an entire row of stamps. “Y’all betting on a boy like that? He’s a scrawny little feyblood!” The half-orc’s laughter boomed through the guild hall. “I’m getting hungry just thinking about how stupid you all are!”

“Shut up, White-Tooth!” Peron called out. “Either bet on it or stop your blabbering!”

“Fine, but make it double,” the half-orc said with a grin. “Twenty gold!”

“Make it fifty,” Adam said.

The half-orc turned to face the half-elf. “Fifty?” he said with a smirk. “Who is going to put up for you, boy?”

“I will,” Paul said with a smile.

Adam shook his head. “No,” he said as he walked over to Paul and brought out his pouch. He placed down the three gems and then also twenty gold pieces. Then he looked back to the half-orc. “Is this good enough?”

The half-orc narrowed his eyes and walked over. The half-orc was about three inches taller than Adam, and Adam could guess he was a half-orc because he wasn’t quite a mass of muscle that he would expect from a full blooded orc.

Adam’s heart thundered in his chest as he watched the half-orc approach. The half-orc then reached into his pouch and pulled out five coins that swirled blue or silver depending on the light, which he placed onto the counter.

CURRENCY

9 Gold

21 Silver

21 Copper

Paul accepted the coins and then pulled them aside.

“I don’t feel bad for taking a fey’s coin,” the half-orc said.

“What’s your name?” Adam asked with a low voice.

“You don’t need it,” the half-orc chuckled.

“That’s right, but it’s good to know since you’re donating fifty gold to me.”

Paul chuckled as the half-orc threw a look towards the vice-guild master and then back to the half-elf. “White-Tooth,” he said. “You should clean your pointy ears.”

“It’s a good thing your name isn’t platinum tooth since you lose it all.”

“Alright, enough,” Paul said as he slapped the counter once. “Get ready for your duel.” Paul motioned with his head to Margh, who had a hot bowl of stew for Adam ready.

Adam looked at it, then to Margh, and then to Paul.

“Go on,” Paul said. “Eat and get ready to make us some coin.”

Adam sat down opposite Margh and began to eat when the guild doors were tossed open and Alten sauntered in. He wore his breastplate and his trusty sabre, as well as a long cloak of deep red that one might call carmine red, but Adam called it dark red. Behind him was another guard. He was like a statue of metal in his heavy plate armour, taller than most men. His armour was unmarked. Upon his back was a large blade, almost the size of a man.

“Where is the half-breed? I don’t have all morning!” Alten exclaimed.

Adam slurped his bowl noisily to let him know where he was and then he swallowed down the ale, which was honeyed this morning, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He then turned on his stool, thanking Margh.

“Yeah, me neither,” Adam said. “I have quests to complete.”

Emma cleared her throat and then raised the contract up. “Please read the paper and sign it.”

Alten revealed a rather lovely pen made of, who would have thought, red oak. He signed away the paper without reading it and then marched off. “Hurry it up, half-breed.”

Adam looked at the paper, read the few lines which were rather simple and direct, and then signed it. Adam then marched out towards the sparring area, and the adventurers walked out too, even the little dwarf girl.

Paul was holding the contract as he read it aloud.

“The contract that you have signed is as follows. The pair of you, Adam and Alten, will fight one another until one is knocked unconscious, or one surrenders, or one meets an untimely demise.” Paul looked up towards the pair. “No killing each other, not on guild property.” He stared at the pair and then nodded. “You must not use any magic, only melee weapons. There will be no others but the pair of you who will fight. The winner will receive something from the loser. If Alten wins, Adam is to grovel at his feet begging for forgiveness. If Adam wins, Alten will never set foot or be seen within Red Oak. You have both signed the contract, but do any of you wish to forfeit?”

“Let us get on with it,” Alten said as he pulled off his cloak and handed it to the heavy armoured warrior behind him.

Adam then began to undo his own cloak and looked about. He saw James poking out his little head from the crowd, and so he folded his cloak together and then handed it to James.

“Please look after this for me, there’s a silver in it for you.”

James nodded.

With that the pair took their place. Adam, this time, left his shield behind, for Alten did not have his own shield.

“Your pride will be your undoing,” Alten said as he noticed the move.

“You talk too much,” Adam said as he drew his blade with both hands.

Alten drew his sabre.

“You may begin,” Paul called.

BATTLE ORDER

D20 (6) - QUICK (1) = 5

Alten attacks first.

Adam attacks second.

Alten hits an attack with his sabre.

CRITICAL HIT!

Health is reduced by 14.

30 Health remaining.

Alten’s blade moved in such a way that Adam couldn’t react in time, whipping through the air and slicing across Adam’s cheek, blood spurting out to the side of Adam’s face. Alten smirked at his handiwork. Adam’s eyes widened in alarm as he was critically hit once more. The first time this had happened he had almost died. His heart thundered in his chest as he felt the warm blood trickle down his cheek.

No. This wasn’t the first time.

Even after the critical hit, he had more health than when he had first explored this world.

This time, everything was different.

Now he was a samurai.

Adam inhaled deeply and then stared into Alten’s eyes, his fingers gripping his blade tightly. He felt a serene rage take over his limbs.

SAMURAI SPIRIT ACTIVATED

2/3

Health is increased by 5.

35 Health remaining.

ATTACK

D20 (4) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (3) = 11

SAMURAI SPIRIT ACTIVE

D20 (3) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (3) = 10

MISS!

Adam thrust his blade upwards, but Alten was far too nimble. The calm serenity hadn’t lasted long, but Adam didn’t want to let Alten take first blood so easily.

OVERDRIVE ACTIVATED

ONWARD SOAR ACTIVATED

0/1

ATTACK

D20 (5) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (2) = 11

SAMURAI SPIRIT ACTIVE

D20 (12) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (3) = 19

HIT!

D10 (8) + MIGHT (4) + DUELING (2) + OVERDRIVE (2) = 16

16 damage!

Alten was rearing to go with his own blow, about to slip his blade through Adam’s armour when Adam struck his blade harshly against the warrior’s inner arm, striking through the armour. Alten let out a yelp of alarm as his arm shook with great pain. The blow had shaken him, but he tried to return an attack.

Alten missed an attack with his sabre.

The arm had been shaking too hard for him to manage a decent blow, but Adam took that as his chance for a second blow. He gripped his blade with both hands once more and then stepped forward.

SAMURAI SPIRIT ACTIVATED

1/3

Health is increased by 5.

40 Health remaining.

ATTACK

D20 (1) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (2) = 7

SAMURAI SPIRIT ACTIVE

D20 (17) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (2) = 23

HIT!

D10 (2) + MIGHT (4) + DUELING (2) + OVERDRIVE (2) = 10

10 damage!

Alten stumbled backwards from the assault as Adam managed to land a harsh blow across the man’s breastplate, causing him to wince. The confusion in his eyes was evident, but he quickly shook his head, shaking away the confusion as he then stepped forward once more, ready to strike.

“I’ll show you your place!” Alten snarled.

Alten hits an attack with his sabre.

Health is reduced by 5.

35 Health remaining.

Alten managed to sink his sabre against Adam’s side, but Adam did not care. He stepped forward, ready and eager to strike.

“Do you think your luck will last much longer?!” Alten sneered.

SAMURAI SPIRIT ACTIVATED

0/3

Health is increased by 5.

40 Health remaining.

ATTACK

D20 (3) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (3) = 10

SAMURAI SPIRIT ACTIVE

D20 (9) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (2) = 15

MISS!

Yet, even after all his jeering, Adam did not speak. His response with another swing of his long sword, though Alten managed to duck and step aside, his sabre gliding the longsword to another path. Alten let out a practised breath and then slipped through the attack with his sabre to strike.

Alten missed an attack with his sabre.

“Damn it,” Alten whispered.

Adam could see the heavy sweat against Alten’s face. The way his eyes were now filled with a great uncertainty, the way his lips quivered, the way his arm shook. Yes. This was it. This was what Adam wanted Alten to feel.

Fear.

Yet Adam was undaunted, his health was almost at maximum due to his various skills, and even though he was mostly tapped out of his warrior skills, he still had a few more things in his back pocket. Yet this boy, Alten, he was nearing the end. Adam stepped forward, blade in both hands, and then put everything he had into his attack.

ATTACK

D20 (14) + MIGHT (4) + TRAINED (3) = 21

HIT!

D10 (10) + MIGHT (4) + DUELING (2) + OVERDRIVE (2) = 18

18 damage!

Alten brought his sabre forward to catch Adam’s longsword, to guide it away so he could use the gap to strike once more, but this time the sabre gave in to the crash and his hand twisted, causing him to drop his blade. Adam struck Alten square across his armour, managing to catch Alten’s chin and cheek to paint his face with a large gash.

“No!” the heavily armoured warrior exclaimed as Alten fell. The warrior reached for his greatsword, but Adam stepped onto Alten’s chest plate and then placed his blade against the boy’s neck. He could see that Alten’s eyes were blurred with great pain, confusion, and the struggle to keep awake.

The heavily armoured warrior had his blade out, stepping forward towards Adam.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Adam said as he nicked Alten’s neck, causing a whimper to escape his lips. “I’ll give him a moment to surrender, or I’ll knock him out, but if you step forward my blade might accidentally slip.” Adam’s throat was growing dry, but he tried to hold onto his voice. He didn’t want to kill Alten, that wasn’t the point.

The warrior remained still. “I’ll snap your neck in half.”

“I’ll cut his in half,” Adam replied.

The warrior did not move, and Adam heard a blade being drawn from behind him. Paul had his sword out.

“The bout hasn’t ended yet,” Paul warned.

Adam looked down at Alten, who was groaning with great pain. He could see now that Alten was still shocked, still in great pain. He didn’t want to prolong the pain, but he did need to teach the brat a lesson.

“There will come a day when you look at Red Oak, you will want to return. There will come a day when you will think about taking a step inside this town, with its beautiful forest, its lovely guards, the guild members that are all so welcoming, and of course the delicious bakery that sells the lovely little doughnuts. There will come a day when you’ll think to break our agreement.” Adam pushed his boot down harder.

“I want you to remember, Alten. Whenever that day comes, I want you to remember, my sword at your throat. I want you to remember being unable to speak out surrender for surrender. I want you remember, counting down the seconds to your death. I want you to remember that this half-breed, half-elf and half-human, will be twice the man you will ever be. I want you to remember that this half-breed, half-elf and half-human, let you live. You didn’t live because your sword managed to deflect my blow. You didn’t live because your father taught you how to fight. You didn’t live because your guard took me down. I want you to remember that this half-breed, half-elf and half-human, let you live. I want you to remember, Alten. I want you to remember his name, your god of death.” Adam then pulled his boot away and grabbed onto Alten’s brown hair within a fist as he felt the hot rage fill him. He tugged onto the man’s hair and pulled him up to whisper. “I want you to remember, Adam.”

Adam struck Alten across the face with a heavy fist. He dropped Alten’s head, the boy now limp.

Unconscious.