Kalistra led me to a tent with a yellow flag on top. There were four desks arranged side-by-side from left to right. She took me to the second desk from the left.

Sitting in a chair behind the desk was another cleric wearing a white robe with a red cross. "Please place your hand on the stone, and state your name and character level," the man instructed.

I saw a light yellow-colored rock on the table. When I placed my hand on it, I felt a slight buzz as its magic compelled me to tell the truth. "My name is Lawrence Eugene Mulligan, and I'm level 6."

"Very good, milord," the man said as he recorded my information; since the stone did not turn red, I had told the truth. "You qualify to enter the Apprentice Division. Please give me your entry fee."

My master quickly placed a gold coin on the table.

The registrar took the coin and replaced it with a blue-and-red colored bracelet. "Please wear it," he instructed.

I took the bracelet and put it on my left wrist.

The man eyed my armor and said, "Contestants are not permitted to wear armor during their matches."

"I will remove it before my match," I promised.

The registrar nodded and then called out, "Next!"

We took the hint and quickly left the table.

Again, Kalistra took my hand. This time she led me to an inn called, "The Wild Boar." It was a three story building and made of stone.

When we entered, I saw a small reception desk with a gnome sitting behind it. To the right was a large, double door frame that led to the dining room; the doors were missing. To the left was a set of stairs, presumably leading to the guest rooms.

When the receptionist noticed our entry, the gnome adjusted his tiny glasses over his long, narrow nose. "Oh, my! Look at what the cat dragged in. You finally decided to serve as a judge for the tournament, Master Kalistra?" he chuckled.

"We need two rooms, Deun'Luye," my master replied.

"Two?" the gnome innkeeper asked. Finally, he noticed me standing behind her. "Is this your dojo's representative for the tournament?"

I took this opportunity to introduce myself. "I am Lawrence Eugene Mulligan, and I will represent the Butterfly School at this year's tournament," I said.

The gnome grinned. "Who trained you?" he asked. When I pointed a finger at Kalistra, the innkeeper's grin widened. "Thank you for telling me," he said in a conspiratorial tone of voice. "Please don't tell anyone else, unless it's a truth stone wearer," he requested.

"Why?" I looked at Deun'Luye with puzzlement.

"I plan to place some bets on your early matches. Win the first match, your room for the night will be free. Each additional match you win will earn you another free night at my inn. If you reach the semi-finals, I'll give you a week's stay. On the house," he proposed.

"You sure are confident that Lawrence will win," Kalistra remarked.

"He's your pupil," the gnome pointed out.

"If you add meals along with the room, then it's a deal," I countered.

"Fine," Deun'Luye nodded.

We shook hands and then the gnome gave each of us a room key.

"Your rooms are 2-A and 2-B," he said and pointed at the stairs to our left.

When we reached the second floor, Kalistra discovered that her room was "2-A" and next to the stairs. My room was next to hers. My master turned to face me. "Please stow your gear and then meet me in the dining room," she ordered.

"Yes, master!" I nodded and then used my key to open the door to 2-B. I saw that it was a much smaller room than the one I had stayed in at The Noble Lady. Nor did it have any window. The furnishing consisted of a simple bed. There was a hook on the wall with a lantern. Next to the door was an open closet. When I finished my visual inspection of the guest room, I shook my head. I had a suspicion that I would need to pay extra for a bucket of water to clean myself. I was hoping to freshen up a bit after my journey but alas, it didn't seem like I would have time to do so this morning. I placed my messenger bag on the bed. I then removed my chest piece and left the armor on the bed as well. Mindful of the fact that Kalistra didn't like to wait, I left the room and locked it. After I walked down the stairs and entered the dining room, I saw my master was sitting at a table already.

She noticed me at the doorway and waved.

I quickly joined her at the table in the far corner and took the spot on the bench across from her. In front of my seat on the table were a mug containing a hot liquid and some buttered bread.

The cat girl, on the other hand, was having chicken soup.

I looked at her delicious meal with envy and sulked openly.

"It's better to fight when your stomach isn't full," Kalistra said. "Now drink up your honey mead and eat the bread to replenish your health and stamina. After the tournament, we'll come back here and have a proper lunch."

"Yes, master," I replied and started eating. When I finished, I saw that my stamina bar had completely refilled.

"Let's go," she said and rose from her seat.

I started to reach into my waist pouch for some coins to pay for our meals but the cat girl beat me to it.

"My treat," she grinned.

When we exited the inn, Kalistra grabbed my hand again and dragged me to another section of the courtyard.

I saw that the courtyard was divided into smaller sections and cordoned off with rope. Furthermore, in front of each subsection, there was an upright pole with colored flags. There were people, unarmored but carrying swords, standing inside each subsection.

She led me to a pole with two flags: one was colored blue and the other was red.

I looked at my left wrist to confirm that the colors of my bracelet matched the flags on the pole.

"The bracelet indicates your starting block," my master said. "These are your potential opponents. The top eight from each block will then fight other blocks within the division until you have a winner," she explained.

"How will the individual matches be set up?" I asked.

"For the first match, names will be pulled off the registrar's log book. The Church will randomly pair the contestants and cross off the names. This way, the Church will not be accused of fixing matches by pairing specific contestants," she replied.

"What if there is an odd number of contestants? Would that person get a bye for the round?" I asked.

Someone chuckled.

We turned toward the newcomer; it was a man who wore a white robe of the church. He had a stocky build, shortly cropped sandy hair, and light blue eyes. A truth stone hung over his chest.

"If the contestant is that unlucky, then he would be better off not participating in the tournament," the man laughed.

I looked at the man's caption. His name was "Deacon Piergeon."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the Judges' section now, Master Kalistra," the deacon said and bowed. He then turned to me. "Good luck to you, Brother Mulligan," he said with a slight nod.

I bowed deeply to my superior. "Thank you, Deacon."

When the two walked away, I entered my designated area.

"What's a church official doing here?" a man said and spat on the floor. The speaker wore a dirty looking, tan colored shirt riddled with holes and tears. His brown pants were equally worn. His face and beard were caked with dirt and dried mud.

I looked at his caption and read his name, "Gocke." "Greetings, sir," I nodded politely. I looked down and saw that my truth stone was hanging over my chest. I put the stone under my tunic.

"Too late to hide your fancy stone," Gocke persisted. "If the gods would be so kind, I want a match with you. I bet you will lose in the first round," he laughed.

Some other contestants laughed with him. They had already inspected me and they were doubtful of my competence with the scabbard on my belt.

I smiled politely as I tried to memorize the face of every person who laughed at me. After all, I will be matched with them sooner or later. Then, I will have an opportunity to humiliate them publicly in the arena.

Suddenly, I heard screaming and yelling by the females in the stands. When I turned around, I saw that the target of their fawning was a man. But from a mere glance, I knew that he was different from anyone else I had encountered in this gaming world. The man did not wear a shirt and he was showing off his massive, body builder physique. His biceps were as thick as my neck. He carried a massive bastard sword in a scabbard across his back. He wore short-shorts, showing off his trunk-like thighs. He also wore gladiator boots which wrapped around his large calves. With his deep tan and short blonde hair, this newcomer was a real-life "He-Man." His arms were wrapped around two women's waists as the trio walked hip to hip.

I looked at the man's caption and read his name, "Arthur William de Vere." Uh-oh! I blinked my eyes and re-read the caption. The name stayed the same. He was the first person I encountered with a three-words name. I had a strong suspicion that the man was a Player Character.

The crowd started calling him, "The Pendragon Reborn! The next king of Merlin!"

Arthur smiled and laughed. However, his eyes were searching . . . for something or someone. Instinctively, he knew something was bothering him but he didn't know what.

Our eyes met briefly before his eyes moved on. Abruptly, he stopped walking and turned his head back until our eyes locked again.

I couldn't help but shiver at the raw power and intensity of his stare. It was as if the man was a lion and I was a mere mouse.

Finally, he smiled at me and continued walking.

To my relief, Arthur walked toward another subsection, meaning that the two of us won't meet until we advanced out of our starting blocks.

#

"Kekeke," Lord Bane chuckled from his position high in the air above the courtyard. "The Lion of the East has finally met the Lion of the West. The Gamemaster will surely be pleased." He was invisible to the mortals below. The demigod was holding a bucket of popcorns and tossing a handful of the airy, crunchy food into his mouth. "You guys want some?" he offered.

"So that's the most probable Champion of Chaos?" Jasla asked as she studied the man, ignoring her father. For some reason, she felt repulsed by this new Player Character when she looked at him.

"Don't stare too hard at him, dear," Lady Musa admonished her daughter. "He is tainted by Madness."

Jasla winced. There was a huge difference between Chaos and Madness. A person could be chaotic but still had the sensibility to avoid wanton, needless destruction. A person in the throes of madness will not be so restrained.

"If Arthur takes the crown, then Britannia will be destroyed and the people of the land will suffer," Gaea said, verbalizing Jasla's fear aloud.

"If he wins kingship under the rules laid out by the Gamemaster, then we cannot interfere," Lady Luck reminded her kindred. "We can only hope that Lawrence will snuff out the flames of Arthur before it turns into a raging inferno."

#

When the church bell struck nine times, an official slowly walked across the courtyard until he stood in front of the water fountain, which had been cordoned off by the guards.

I looked at the man's caption and his name read, "Mayor William Wilshire." The middle-aged man was tall and stood with an air of authority. He wore a finely tailored red shirt over black hoses and brown shoes. A golden cape draped over his back. A sword hilt encrusted with a large diamond peeked out at his waist.

The mayor raised his right hand. "My fellow citizens and honored guests, I thank you all for coming to this year's Melee Tournament. We are humbled and honored that the Church of Britannia has chosen Bristol as the host site this year," he said. The mayor turned and bowed in the direction of a group of clergy standing in front of the registration tent. He then turned toward the holding area for the contestants. "Now, here are the rules of the tournament. The matches are called in random order by the registrars. Each match will be fought in the area designated by the match judge. Each match will last five minutes. The match will end when the judge determines a contestant has received three blows, or sooner if the contestant cannot continue to fight. If both contestants remain standing at time expiration, the judge will determine the winner. No appeal will be permitted. The matches will be fought unaided by shield, armor, potion, or magic. The matches will be fought with swords that will remain sheathed at all times. Any violation of these rules, as determined by the match judge, will result in either a warning or immediate forfeiture of the match," he explained. The mayor raised both hands. "Let the tournament begin!" Trumpets blared as the mayor slowed walked back into the stands.

A cleric stood next to the pole at my holding area and began calling out names. Unfortunately, I wasn't part of the first group. Eight names were called. A page led the group to our designated fighting section. The contestants were paired off with judges and the matches began in earnest.

I tried to watch all four matches simultaneously. One fighter used the bum rush technique, charging right at the start and was successful in knocking out his opponent. Another fighter tried the same tactic, but his opponent evaded the charge and countered with a blow to the backside. The other two matches involved more cautious contestants, who stood their ground and waited for the other side to make the first move.

The audience saw what was happening and started booing at the reluctant fighters.

The crowd's reaction jolted these contestants and they began trading blows in earnest.

All four matches were resolved before time expired.

Out of the four winners, only the second contestant appeared to be very skilled, in my eyes. The man was young looking, with long black hair which was tied behind his back in the old style of Kung Fu fighters. And yes, he appeared Asian. His name was "Qiao-Lu."

I was jolted out of my reverie when I heard my own name was called. I quickly stepped out of the holding area and followed the page as he took us to the same area again. I was paired off with a man named, "Treyu." His long, curly brown hair was disheveled and his brown beard was shaggy looking, too. His white tunic had numerous food stains all over his chest and sleeves. He wore loose fitting black pants and black shoes.

Treyu was giving me a wild-eyed stare, as the judge stood between us.

"Begin!"

My opponent immediately charged at me like a wild beast.

Fortunately, I had predicted that would be his opening move and I was prepared for it. I calmly waited for him to step closer, closer, and then I executed the Slide Step technique. "Slide step skill SUCCESSFUL. +50 XP."

When Treyu slammed his scabbard down on my head, I suddenly disappeared from view.

With his back toward me now, I slammed my scabbard against the back of his skull. "Critical hit! -36 Damage (HALVED). Condition: Unconscious. +50 XP."

My opponent immediately dropped to the ground.

"Duel WON. +100 XP."

The judge's eyes widened. He waved both arms frantically above his head. "Match over!"

Clerics rushed out of the registrar's tent and began casting healing spells on the fallen man.

The judge angrily turned toward me. "These matches are meant to be FRIENDLY. Lethal techniques are expressly prohibited. This is your warning. Further disobedience will result in your forfeiture. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!" I apologized and bowed deeply.

"Now go back to your holding area before I change my mind and toss you out of the tournament," he ordered.

I turned and started walking back. As I walked, I heard cheering and clapping. I turned incredulously to the crowd and suddenly, I realized who they were cheering: me!

When the audience saw that I was looking at them, they roared with approval of my quick fight.

"I'm going to bet on you. So you better keep winning!" someone yelled and the onlookers laughed while nodding.

I offered the commoners a friendly wave and continued walking.

When I reached my subsection, the other contestants stared at me with awe and fear.

"Please take it easy on us," someone said and the other contestants nodded. None of them expected such a quick knock out!

"Your fight lasted only three seconds!" another person said. He was overwhelmed by my poise in evading the charge and then executing a critical hit.

"Don't repeat what I did," I replied ruefully. "The judge gave me a warning and threatened forfeiture from the tournament."

The other contestants winced.

"I guess you have shouldn't hit the poor fellow so hard," a young lady remarked and everyone else laughed.

"I almost killed him," I replied somberly and the laughing ceased.

"You didn't do it on purpose," another person said.

"No, it was pure instinct on my part. I evaded his bum rush and his back was facing me. I only made the same attack that he tried on me," I recalled.

"Then it was a fair hit," the man shrugged.

Suddenly, the cleric yelled out more names and the contestants left. Winners of their matches eventually returned to our holding area. However, the number of swordsmen remaining steadily shrunk from the uneven exchange.

Finally, my name was called again and I followed the page to my designated area.

When the audience saw me, they started cheering. Then, the cheering became muted when they saw my opponent: "Qiao-Lu." The bettors became apprehensive because they knew that the Asian warrior was very skilled and therefore, it was a toss up as to who would emerge victoriously from our duel. Some of them continued to place their faith in me and bet on me. Others felt the wind of change was in the air and switched to my opponent instead.

I stood with my scabbard in hand and waited for the judge to begin the match. I saw that my opponent was eyeing me. I gave him a slight nod and he reciprocated.

"Begin!"

I stood my ground, allowing Qiao-Lu to make the first move.

However, the Asian man also stood his ground.

I winced inwardly because clearly, my opponent was not going to be baited into making a mistake. Thus, I suspected that he will be one of my harder matches for the day. Remembering the friendly match between Kalistra and Alsaj inside the Phla'en ruins, I started walking to my right, circling my opponent.

Understanding hit his eyes, and Qiao-Lu reciprocated.

As precious seconds ticked away, we slowly drew closer and closer, daring the other to make the first attack.

Suddenly, Qiao-Lu struck first. He moved like a viper and aimed the end of his scabbard at my chest.

"Dexterity check SUCCESSFUL. +50 XP." I was able to evade the quick strike just in time by stepping to left. Then I countered with a whack to his over extended forearm. "-2 Damage."

"Hit!" the judge called out.

My opponent was stunned by his failure to land his attack. However, the hit made him recover his senses immediately. He made a horizontal sweep at my torso, forcing me to hop back. Trying to put me off guard again, Qiao-Lu lounged forward with another jab at my chest.

Unfortunately, his gambit worked because my feet were not set firmly on the ground. Therefore, I couldn't evade the attack in time. Purely on instinct, I launched the Disarm technique and took a whack at his hands. I was mindful of the low probability of disarming him since we were at similar levels, but I was up 1-0 in this match and it was worth the gamble. Sure enough, dice started rolling inside my head. "Dexterity check SUCCESSFUL. +50 XP. Disarm skill SUCCESSFUL. +50XP." The scabbard sailed out of my opponent's hands and landed into the stands. "-2 Damage."

"Hit!" the judge called out.

Qiao-Lu stared helplessly at where his precious sword landed and bravely accepted my third blow to end the match.

Remembering the judge's warning, I hit my defenseless opponent on his right arm. "-1 Damage."

"Hit! Match over!" the judge yelled.

The audience went wild and started clapping.

"Duel WON. +100XP."

Qiao-Lu looked at me with disbelief and took a deep breath. His face turned sad, reflecting his disappointment at the loss. However, the man held out his hand and we shook. "Your defense is incredible," he praised me.

"Thank you!" I replied. "I was very lucky to disarm you."

The two of us walked side by side as the commoners continued cheering and yelling at us. Finally, we went our separate ways; I went back to my holding area while Qiao-Lu went into the stands to retrieve his sword.

Once I returned to my subsection, someone remarked, "Lady Luck must be with you today." Remembering her blessing on me, I could only smile politely. I watched the rest of the matches in my group, but no contestant stood out in my eyes aside from the vanquished Qiao-Lu.

When the last groups of matches were completed and the winners returned, we were down to eight fighters.

The registrar for our group appeared again next to the pole. "Congratulations! You have advanced to the next round! We're going to take a brief break while the other starting blocks finish their matches. Please wait here until I return," he said.

"Yes!" a fellow contestant pumped his fists in the air.

I smiled at him. I decided to spend the time meditating. I walked over to the pole, sat down, leaned my back against it, and started meditating. A short while later, I felt a familiar, dark presence nearby.

"Not too shabby, Larry," Enab said.

"I hope the Gamemaster is pleased," I replied while keeping my eyes closed.

"That makes the two of us," he grinned. "Anyway, your Patrons are watching and we are all rooting for your continued success."

I finally opened my eyes and looked up at the human form of Lord Bane. "Patrons?" I asked quizzically.

Enab rolled his eyes. "The ones who gave you their blessings," he explained. He saw my group's registrar approaching. "Time for the next round. Good luck!" The young cleric walked pass the registrar and offered a slight nod in passing.

When the cleric arrived, I rose back to my feet. I noticed there were eight young pages standing behind him.

"Okay, it's time for the next round. When I call your name, you will follow the page to your designated area for your next match," he explained.

When my name was called, I followed my page until we arrived at another part of the courtyard. I saw my next opponent arriving at the same time: Kuerten Paget!

When Lord Paget saw me, he chuckled. "This must be our fate to face each other in the Melee Tournament," he said gleefully. "I'm going to humiliate you so badly that you will give up the sword," he sneered.

The judge walked slowly until he stood in between us. "Okay, young fellows. You already know the rules. Let's have a good, clean fight." He clapped his hands and rushed out of the way. "Begin!"

Paget immediately charged at me! However, unlike Treyu, the young nobleman held his scabbard parallel to the ground; his hands were pulled up to his chin. His eyes never left my face. When he was within striking distance, his eyes dropped to my throat and he plunged the end of his scabbard at his new target!

I activated Slide Step to evade his attack. "Dexterity check SUCCESSFUL. +50XP. Slide step skill SUCCESSFUL. +50XP." With his back facing me, I decided to end the match immediately with Duel Winner. "Duel winner skill SUCCESSFUL. +50XP." "-2 Damage. -2 Damage. -2Damage."

My opponent yelled in surprise.

The judge stared at us for a moment as his eyes tried to catch up to the action. Finally, he yelled, "3 hits! Match over!"

The nobleman whirled and threw his scabbard on the ground in a temper tantrum. "There's no way he hit me thrice!" he argued with the judge.

The judge held up a hand and then turned toward me. "Show us, in slow motion, the technique you used," he ordered.

"Yes, Judge," I bowed deeply and went through the motions of the Duel Winner technique.

"First hit," the judge pointed out as I started my movement and hit my imaginary opponent's left shoulder. "Second hit," he said as I swept from my right to left across the waist. "Third hit," he said when I turned my elbow and slammed the scabbard against the back.

The nobleman's jaw dropped. "But-but that's CHEATING!" he argued.

"It's within the rules," the judge replied.

"Who are you to decide?" the young man glared.

"I'm the judge for your match. For refusing to accept my impartial judgment, I declare that you have FORFEITED your wins," he said. "GUARDS! Escort this man off the courtyard!"

Six guards rushed up to surround the nobleman.

"Get out of here, you loser!" someone yelled.

"Loser! Loser! Loser!" the crowd taunted.

Lord Paget gave me one last look before he walked into the stands.

I walked over and picked up the scabbard that the nobleman had thrown to the ground. I gave it to the judge, who accepted it. "Return to your holding area," he ordered.

"Yes, Judge," I bowed. A page was waiting to take me back. As we walked across the courtyard, the crowd cheered. I smiled and waved. Finally, I returned to my subsection.

Some contestants had already returned. They all avoided looking at me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"You should have let him win," a man said quietly.

"Let who win?" I asked in puzzlement and looked at his caption. The man's name was "Herolm."

"Lord Paget. Every contestant who faced him allowed him to win," Herolm explained.

"Why?"

"Lord Paget is the youngest son of the current Regent of our Kingdom," he replied. "You just made a powerful enemy."

I winced. "Maybe I won't see him again," I said with false cheer.

"Someone seeking the Regent's favor may send contract killers after you," another man said.

I read his caption and his name was "Cleugh." "Believe it or not, someone did send contract killers after me. They tried to prevent me from reaching Bristol," I admitted.

Cleugh's face turned white. "Milord, please speak no further of this! We are mere lowborn! We value our lives too much to meddle in the affairs of you noblemen!" The man bowed from the waist and the rest of the contestants did the same.

"Okay," I agreed. I certainly appreciated their predicament. As commoners, they were ruled by the nobility and often suffered under their tyranny. Even though we would be brothers on the battle field, our social standings were a chasm too wide for them to leap over during peace time. I took my spot on the ground in front of the pole and I meditated until my name was called again.

When I reached my designated spot in the courtyard, I saw that my opponent was a cat girl with orange-yellow fur and black stripes. According to her caption, her name was "Cila." Unlike my master, Cila was tall and her limbs were long. She probably had a longer reach than me. With her racial advantage in speed and agility, this will be another tough match for me.

When Cila stood behind the judge, she asked me, "Who's your master?"

"Kalistra of the Butterfly School of Swordsmanship," I answered.

"No more talking," the judge ordered and turned his head to look at each of us. Seeing that we were both ready he said, "Begin!"

As I expected, my opponent did not charge me. She seemed to be the analytical type. Hence, I decided to make my first move: a feint. Holding my scabbard parallel to the ground, I pretended to lunge forward with my back leg. Then, I stomped on my front leg to push back and started moving to the left.

Cila bit on the feint. She held her scabbard in front of her chest and prepared to block my attack.

Seeing her back wide open, I jabbed my scabbard.

However, my opponent recovered quickly and lashed out with her scabbard.

"-1 Damage." "-1 Health."

"Simultaneous hits!" the judge called out.

I recovered faster than the cat girl and twisted my elbow to slap my scabbard against her back. I was rewarded with a "whuf!" "-1 Damage."

"Hit!" the judge ruled.

Cila tried valiantly to protect her back by turning her hips quickly to face me.

However, I kept up the pressure and shuffled my feet to stay behind her. I ended her torment by tapping my scabbard lightly against the back of her skull. "-2 Damage."

"Ow!" Cila meowed and dropped her scabbard in frustration. Her paws reached up and began massaging the growing lump on her head.

"Hit! Match over!" the judge declared.

"Duel WON. +100XP."

I bent down to retrieve the scabbard on the ground and handed it back to Cila.

"That was a dirty move," she complained.

I turned toward the judge for his opinion.

The man shook his head. "It is within the rules for your opponent to maneuver and stay behind your back. Of course, it takes skill and quick thinking to pull this off." The judge gave me an appraising look. "Go back to your section," he ordered.

I bowed deeply to the judge and started walking back. To my surprise, Cila walked beside me and matched my pace stride for stride.

She offered her paw and we shook. "I'm a student of the Rising Sun School of Swordsmanship in Hampshire. If you are ever in my town, please come by and visit my dojo. I would love to have a rematch with you," she grinned.

"Sure," I smiled.

The cat girl bowed deeply to me and then walked into the stands, her tail dangling happily in the air.

The adoring crowd roared their approval when I passed by.

I waved at the commoners and slowly returned to my subsection. When I arrived, I sat down and started my meditation. I discovered that meditation was an excellent way to clear my mind and calm my nerves. It also allowed me to regenerate my stamina faster.

After a while, a page arrived and said, "You're up, sir. Good luck in the quarter finals."

When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was the only contestant in my holding area. This meant that everyone else from my starting block had been defeated. "Thank you," I replied as I followed the young boy to my assigned area.

Approaching me was a young man with sea blue eyes and dark brown hair. He seemed especially energetic because he was bouncing on his toes like a boxer entering the ring.

I looked up at his caption and his name read, "Icardes."

When our eyes met, Icardes raised his scabbard and pointed it at me. "I will try not to hurt you too much, old man, when I defeat you," he said brashly.

"Thank you for your consideration, young grasshopper," I smiled and nodded slightly.

The judge gave each of us a stern look. "Gentlemen, this is the Quarter Finals. Please give the audience a clean and honorable fight. Are you ready?" he asked.

We both nodded.

"Begin!" the judge yelled and jumped back.

Icardes immediately charged at me and swung his scabbard at my head.

Given his arrogant personality, I expected this attack. I immediately activated the Slide Step technique with the intention of using Duel Winner to settle the match. "Slide step skill SUCCESSFUL. +50XP."

However, when I disappeared from his sight, Icardes immediately dove to the ground and tumble rolled forward to avoid my attack from behind.

Fortunately, he rolled away before I wasted precious stamina to activate my technique.

Icardes turned around; he had a big grin on his face. "You're not taking me out that easily, old man."

"Maybe I should call you 'Slippery Sam' instead," I smirked. Inwardly, I was alarmed by what my opponent said because Kalistra had warned me that once I used the Duel Winner skill, my future opponents will try to avoid it. And now, her prediction had become reality. I activated the Charge technique to cover the short distance between us immediately. "Charge skill SUCCESSFUL. +50XP." Before Icardes could react, I slammed my scabbard against his right shoulder. "-14 Damage (Halved). Condition: Severe shoulder bruise. -50% Attack. +50XP."

"Hit!" the judge yelled.

The young lad yelped in pain and jumped back. He tried lifting his right arm but his limb refused to obey. In disgust, he held his scabbard in his left hand instead.

"I didn't know you are ambidextrous," I smiled and activated Charge again to stand before him. "Charge skill SUCCESSFUL. +50XP." Without mercy, I slammed my scabbard against his left shoulder. "-14 Damage (Halved). Condition: Severe shoulder bruise. -80% Attack (Cumulative Effect). +50XP."

"Hit!" the judge yelled again.

The force of the blow forced Icardes to drop his scabbard, leaving him defenseless for my light jab into his gut. "-2 Damage."

"Hit! Match over!" the judge ruled and pushed me back.

"Duel WON. +100XP."

Icardes dropped to his knees. He tried lifting his arms but they refused to obey his command.

The judge waved his arms over his head.

Seeing the judge's signal, the clerics rushed from the registrar's tent to treat the fallen fighter.

The judge turned to face me. "Go back to your holding area," he ordered.

I bowed deeply and slowly walked away.

The crowd cheered and clapped when I waved at them as I passed by.

Finally, I returned to my holding area and closed my eyes to meditate.

A few minutes later, I felt something hit me on the left arm. When I opened my eyes and turned my head, I saw a rock on the ground with a note tied to the rock. I picked up the rock and removed the message. It read: "If you want the antidote for Kalistra's poison, lose your next match. Signed, The Double-Cross Society." Next to the name was a mark depicting two crosses side-by-side; however, the right cross was turned upside down.

I folded the message and placed it inside my waist pouch. I took a deep breath and questions started swirling in my mind. I had no idea what "The Double-Cross Society" was but I wouldn't be surprised if this was an underworld organization similar to the mafia. My interactions with Sene and his lackeys hinted at the presence of a dark, criminal element in this gaming world. My feats and accomplishments were becoming well known as my reputation score steadily rose. Thus, I was not surprised to see someone try to blackmail me. The question, though, was whether I could trust this criminal gang to honor its promise to hand over the antidote if I lost the next match.

This brought forth another question: how important was it for me to win the Melee Tournament? The original objective of the dojo was for me win the first few matches. I had performed far better in the tournament than the Grandmaster expected of me. And surely, Kalistra had made enough profit from her bets on my matches to repay the 750 gold coins by now. Thus, the only reason for me to seek to win the next match was for my pride.

Was my sense of pride really greater than curing Kalistra? Without the cure, she would not be able to resume her profession as a swordswoman because it would be difficult to fight and use her techniques without full access to her stamina. Once her condition was revealed to the Grandmaster, Kalistra would very likely lose her birthright as the Heir to the Butterfly School. Compared to what was at risk for my master, my sense of pride was a rather small price to pay. Therefore, I resolved to lose the next match but with dignity and honor. I closed my eyes again and continued my meditation.

A short while later, I heard footsteps and then the person said, "It's time for your next match, sir. Good luck in the semi finals."

I opened my eyes and rose to my feet. I followed the page. As I walked toward my designated arena, the crowd started cheering for me. I ignored them and focused solely on my next match.

Suddenly, women started yelling and screaming.

I looked across the courtyard and my stomach turned when I saw him: Arthur William de Vere, the other Player Character.

Ever the showman, Arthur walked slowly toward me while waving his hands in the air to urge the fawning women to scream even louder.

The females in the audience happily obliged him.

In response, the showboat started blowing kisses, causing his targets to scream even louder. He started laughing at their over the top antics but obviously, he was enjoying it. He grinned and winked at the women in the audience, causing them to pretend to faint.

In the meantime, I was tapping my left foot impatiently waiting for the guy to reach our section of the courtyard.

The judge frowned at his antics, too, but chose to do nothing about it.

As I watched my next opponent saunter across the courtyard, I became more and more angry at him. Was I supposed to throw my match to THIS GUY? NOT IF I COULD HELP IT!

Finally, Arthur arrived and gave me his full attention. He looked at me up and down as if he was inspecting a car and then he chuckled. He gave me a knowing look as if we were best friends. He turned toward the judge and said, "Judge, with your permission I would like to shake hands with my opponent and congratulate him on reaching the Semi Finals."

The judge sighed and waved his hand for us to do so.

Arthur walked past the judge and his blue eyes started dancing dangerously. When he stood in front of me, he offered his right hand.

I was struck by how tall and big he was. He was at least 6-2 and a solid 240 pounds or more.

As we shook hands, he said in a quiet voice, "It's good to finally meet a fellow Player Character. Let's talk more after the tournament. In the meantime, would you care for a wager?"

"Wager?" I asked with raised brows.

"The winner of this match can ask the loser to do something. Think of it as a favor," he replied.

"Well, I don't want to give up trying to leave this gaming world. I will accept the wager on the condition that the loser may refuse the request," I haggled.

"That's fine. If the request is rejected, the winner can make additional requests until the loser agrees to one," Arthur replied.

"That's fine," I said.

"It's a deal," he agreed.

"Let's start this fight already!" someone yelled.

Arthur turned and laughed. "Yeah, we'll start now," he yelled back. He turned toward me and started walking backward.

The judge stepped between us. "Are you ready?" When we both nodded, he jumped back and yelled, "Begin!"

My vision started flashing red. "PvP mode ENGAGED." My senses sharpened and my heart pounded harder inside my chest.

Arthur raised his massive scabbard and pointed it at me. "You're going down, little man," he said and started charging at me.

Gathering my courage, I ran toward him as well.

However, my opponent had a MUCH longer reach than me. He swung his scabbard at my chest.

I tried blocking with my scabbard, but his overwhelming strength blew me off my feet.

He pressed his advantage to attack me again with a thrust.

I leaned my chest backward and then gravity pulled me to the ground. I quickly rolled to my right and felt the ground shudder when his scabbard hit the spot I was on just a second earlier.

While still my back, I lashed out and slapped his forearm with my scabbard. "-1 Damage."

"Hit!" the judge yelled.

"What! That was a cheap shot!" my opponent yelled while turning his head toward the judge.

I took this moment to pull myself off the ground. I attacked him while he was distracted but Arthur made a no-look backhand swing with his scabbard. I blocked with my scabbard and again I was blown back by his overwhelming strength.

My opponent lazily turned his head toward me and laughed. "I like you, little man. You're like a hamster: fat, hairy, and cuddly. Anyone ever tells you this?"

"I AM NOT A HAMSTER!" I yelled back and swung my scabbard at his head.

Arthur raised his scabbard and blocked my attack easily. "Oh, did I touch a nerve?" he laughed. He shoved his scabbard toward my face and forced me to back off.

I charged again and tried to run by him with a sneaky jab.

However, my opponent swung his scabbard parallel to the ground at my chest, forcing me to block and knocking me back again. Holding his scabbard in one hand, Arthur twirled his arm like a windmill. "Face it, hamster, with my superior reach and strength, you cannot defeat me," he smirked.

"I don't need to beat you. I'm already up 1-0. This is a 5 minutes duel, remember?" I retorted.

Arthur looked at me blankly. Then, his lips formed an "O." He grinned and his eyes turned serious. "In that case, here I come!" The man immediately charged at me and swung his scabbard.

I ducked under the swing and came within reach of his overextended right knee. I jabbed. "-1 Damage."

"Hit!" the judge yelled.

"You little cheapskate!" Arthur yelled and swung his scabbard down at my head.

Seeing the opening, I immediately activated the Slide Step technique. "Slide step skill SUCCESSFUL. +50XP." Finally, my opponent's back was open wide! However, before I could land the third blow on him, a ray of light shone into my eyes, blinding me! Before I could recover, something slammed into my skull.

"Got you!"

I dropped to the ground and lost consciousness.

#

"Outrageous!" Lady Musa burned with fury at the interference with my match. The goddess closed her eyes and quickly located the perpetrator. She raised one finger and a beam of light struck a man enshrouded with a cloak; he was standing on a rooftop overlooking the courtyard.

The sinner burned into ash, dropping a piece of mirror marked with a double cross.

"Poor Larry," Jasla said as she saw the clerics rush over to heal me.

#

As the healers tended to my aid, the judge turned and glared at Arthur. "These matches are friendly. You should not have hit him so hard. This is your warning, contestant. The next violation of the tournament rules will result in your forfeiture. Do you understand me?"

Arthur bowed deeply to the judge. "I'm sorry, Judge. I lost my temper."

"Go back to your holding area," the judge ordered.

The winner of our match gave me one last look and slowly walked off the courtyard.

The crowd cheered as he passed by.

However, the man was uncharacteristically somber and he ignored them.

The crowd began muttering instead.

#

When I opened my eyes, I found myself on the ground. I saw numerous faces looking down on me. Most were strangers. However, one familiar face stood out: Kalistra.

My master knelt down next to me and asked, "What is your name?"

I blinked my eyes. My head was throbbing. However, I found myself answering automatically. "Lawrence Eugene Mulligan."

"Where are we?" she continued.

"In Bristol, for the Melee Tournament," I replied. I looked around and made a realization. "I lost my match," I winced.

"You were a semi finalist," the cat girl replied as she rose to her feet and pulled me up. "You did much better than I expected. You should be proud of yourself," she said.

"Yes, master," I replied.

As Kalistra led me to the stands beyond the courtyard, the crowd started clapping and cheering.

"You were awesome!" someone yelled.

"You made me a ton of money!" another person said and the crowd laughed.

When we entered the stands, the commoners patted me on the back. A few minutes later, I saw the page lead Arthur back to the courtyard. However, I noticed that he was no longer his jovial, carefree self anymore. Instead, he seemed to be in a bad mood. His jaws were clenched and his eyes were angry. "Why is he upset?" I asked Kalistra.

"He was given a warning by the judge for knocking you unconscious," she replied.

I watched as his opponent was led to the courtyard. The man was an elf and his name was "Raiew." His skin was pale like a ghost and sunlight danced off his golden hair. He was tall and thin but his movement was smooth as if he was gliding on the stone bricks of the courtyard.

A judge stood between the two combatants. A moment later, he jumped back and yelled, "Begin!"

Neither fighter made a move.

Arthur held his massive scabbard in his right hand and it leaned on his right shoulder. The man looked at his opponent up and look and was thoroughly unimpressed. He yawned. He held out his left hand and balled it into a fist. He raised his left thumb and then twisted his wrist downward.

Raiew smirked but made no attempt to approach. He was not going to fall for such a juvenile taunt.

The two men engaged in an unlikely staredown.

The crowd soon became restless and started booing.

Finally, Arthur made a move: he dropped his scabbard on the ground and gestured with his right hand for the elf to approach.

Raiew's eyes narrowed at the taunt and he obliged by charging at the unarmed man. The swordsman raised his hands and slammed his scabbard down on his opponent's skull!

However, Arthur simply grabbed hold of the scabbard with his left hand.

"Hit!" the judge yelled.

"Let go!" Raiew yelled and tried to pull his scabbard away. However, the grip on his scabbard was tight and it would not move even an inch no matter how hard the combatant tried to pull back.

Arthur balled his right hand into a fist and smashed the annoying elf in the face! Then the man grabbed the stunned elf by the collar and launched him into the air!

The judge immediately yelled, "Match over! Forfeit!"

Arthur shrugged. He retrieved his scabbard off the ground.

Guards rushed to surround him; they accompanied him as he slowly walked off the courtyard.

The crowd started booing him. Fistfights broke out amongst the audience because of disagreements over how the bets on Arthur's match should be settled.

#

"This is madness," Lord Bane said and shook his head in disbelief. How could anyone throw away the match like this? Especially when the winner of this final round will be the winner of the tournament for his division.

"He has singlehandedly destroyed the tournament," Lady Luck agreed.

"I shudder to think the destruction in his wake if he becomes the King of Merlin," Gaea added.

#

As he walked, Arthur's eyes searched the crowd until he found the one he sought. The man made a beeline straight for me!

However, the guards jostled him and pushed him away from the crowd.

When Arthur saw that he had my attention, he yelled, "Meet me at the gatehouse!"

I nodded. I turned to my master and said, "I need to talk to him. I'll meet you at The Wild Boar." I pushed my way through the crowd and started following Arthur and his entourage.

However, I was accosted by another guard. "Sir, because of the forfeit you now are entitled to take Arthur's spot in the finals. Please follow me to the arena," he requested.

My head turned to Arthur and then back to the guard. "I respectfully decline. My head is still hurting and I'm in no condition to partake in another duel. I will yield to Raiew as the winner of our division," I said.

The guard nodded and ran toward the registrar's tent to give the tournament organizers my response.

I quickly ran after the guards surrounding Arthur. I saw that they were taking him to the gates.

Arthur turned and saw that I was running toward him. Arthur pointed with his finger and said, "I need to talk to him for a moment and then I'll leave peacefully."

The guards turned to see who the troublesome man was referring to.

I finally reached the group. I slipped past the guards and stood next to Arthur.

The guards backed away from us but formed a wall to prevent Arthur from heading back to the courtyard.

"Wow! Talk about lousy hospitality!" the Player Character joked.

"What favor do you want from me?" I asked. I remembered our wager and I had lost the match even though someone had interfered before I could deliver the final blow. Honestly, a part of me was upset because I was cheated out of my win. However, I was confident that Arthur had nothing to do with it and therefore, I was fine with admitting my defeat to him.

"Hey, now you're talking my language!" Arthur grinned. "Let me give it to you straight. I'm big on appearance and I absolutely HATE the sight of you pretending to be a warrior. With that big belly and hairy appearance, you are a joke as a swordsman. It offends my sensibilities to be in the same profession as you. So what I want from you is simple: change your profession from swordsman to something else."

My jaw dropped. Asking me to change my class was the LAST THING I expected. Was this guy insane? However, he was staring at me intently and waiting for my response. "You're asking a lot from me," I said.

Arthur folded his arms over his chest.

"You do realize that I'm not going to lose my experience in the swordsman profession when I switch, right? I will become a dual-class character instead," I explained.

Arthur's brows furrowed. "But it'll take a while for you to get the experience in your new class, though. So, it will be a temporary ban on your use of the sword. I can live with that," he replied.

"Okay," I agreed. I remembered that I had a ton of experience points left unused. In fact, I probably had enough experience to advance a handful of levels in my new class right now. Of course, I wasn't going to tell Arthur. "Do you want to stick around and watch me take up a new profession?" I asked.

"Nah," my frenemy waved his hand dismissively. "You're Lawful. You will honor your promise. Besides, I'm getting kicked out of town," he reminded me and pointed a thumb at the guards. "Okay, it's time for me to leave. See you around, Lawrence." Arthur turned and walked past the gatehouse.

When he stepped outside, Arthur was accosted by the two women he was with previously.

"Are you trying to leave without us?" one of the women said and pouted.

"Of course not!" Arthur laughed and wrapped his arms around their waists.

I shook my head and turned away. I had no doubt that our paths will cross again. As I walked along the courtyard, a young lad ran up to me.

"Milord, I was asked to deliver this to you," the boy said. He gave me a small pouch and ran off.

When I opened the pouch, I saw a potion and a folded piece of paper. I unfolded the paper and it read, "As promised, here is Kalistra's antidote. In the future, please work harder to fulfill your assignment. Best regards, The Double-Cross Society."

"What's this about?" a female voice asked.

Suddenly, I noticed someone looking over my arm. With dread, I slowly turned my head. It was Kalistra!

"Please explain yourself," my master said. Her eyes glowed.

"Let's talk at the inn," I replied and gestured with my chin at the guards standing nearby.

"Fine," she hissed. The cat girl grabbed my hand and led me back to The Wild Boar. When we sat down at a table at the back of the dining room, she demanded, "Talk!"

I showed my master the earlier note I received during the tournament; I explained how The Double-Cross Society tried to blackmail me into throwing the match against Arthur. I also gave her the precious antidote.

Kalistra remained silent during my explanation but her tail whiplashed furiously. The antidote was on the table in front of her. When I was finished with my explanation, she asked, "Did you throw the match?"

I looked her in the eye and answered firmly, "No. I admit that I was planning to. But when I saw the provocative way Arthur was entering the arena and made me wait, I became angry with him and decided not to. However, someone interfered with my match by flashing a beam of light into my eyes and blinded me. Arthur took advantage and knocked me out."

The cat girl hissed. "Did you tell the judge?"

"There was no point," I shrugged. "After Arthur whacked me in the head, I could not continue the match. Also, I didn't think Arthur was involved. The man was simply too proud to accept that kind of help in a fight," I pointed out.

"Lawrence is right," a voice said.

I looked up and I saw Rijana, Bjoukia, and Bjoukin approaching our table. The trio joined us, with the twins sitting next to me while the human sat next to my master.

"The judge would not have done anything about it," Rijana continued. "Yes, he could make milord swear upon the truth stone to confirm that he was blinded during the match. But will the audience accept a rematch between you and Arthur? The crowd's reaction to Arthur's forfeiture in the finals tell us the answer to that question."

"Lawrence, do you trust these people?" Kalistra suddenly asked.

I looked at her quizzically but I nodded affirmatively.

"Please show them your notes," she requested.

I obeyed and passed the notes.

When Rijana finished reading the notes, she returned them to me and said, "Bjoukin, please take out the throwing star and show our friends the mark."

The ranger took out a cloth from his pack and carefully unwrapped it. Then he placed it on the table.

I saw a four-tips throwing star like the sort used by ninjas from back home. In addition, there was an etching on one of the tips; the mark was a double cross.

"Anyone know anything about The Double-Cross Society?" I asked.

My companions shook their heads.

"Shh! Don't say the name aloud!" someone warned.

I turned my head back and forth until I noticed the gnome innkeeper, Deun'Luye. He was approaching our table.

"They are a Thieves' Guild with branches all over Britannia," he explained quietly. "Members are free to accept contracts even if the contracts result in members working on opposite sides. If you are the target of a contract, then I urge you to be extra cautious." He shivered involuntarily and continued. "Milord, I wish to congratulate you on becoming a Semi Finalist in the tournament. As we agreed beforehand, you may stay and eat at The Wild Boar for a week for free." He patted me on the back and walked away.

Bjoukin whistled. The gnome rarely granted anyone a free stay at his inn.

The innkeeper had reminded me of my own wager with Arthur and I took the opportunity to talk about it now. "Master, I have something important to tell you," I began. "I wish to change my profession and become a mage," I declared.

Kalistra's eyes lit up. "May I ask why?"

"Well," I hesitated. Her unflinching stare broke my hesitation. "I have two reasons. First, prior to my duel with Arthur we made a wager. The loser of the match will perform a favor for the winner. When we spoke in front of the gatehouse, Arthur asked that I change my profession because he hated seeing me as a swordsman and felt that I was an embarrassment to his profession."

"Wow! Is that guy narcissistic or what?" Bjoukia remarked and shook her head. She had seen the way he disregarded the rules of the tournament and also how he treated women like toys. She vehemently disapproved of his type.

"What's your second reason?" the cat girl prodded me to continue.

"I've been thinking of switching professions, too," I admitted. "I've watched you fight many times during our travels and you made me realize that I could never approach your excellence in swordsmanship. I simply lacked the talent. Instead, I felt I was more suited to become a spellcaster. However, I wasn't sure if I wanted to become a cleric or a mage. I realized that my association with the Church of Britannia would be a boon if I chose to become a cleric. But my encounter with Rijana made me realize that secular magic, that is magic independent of the divine, is my preference."

"Okay, you may switch out of the swordsman profession," Kalistra gave her permission. "You will not be able to use any sword techniques until your professional level in the wizardly arts rises above your level in swordsmanship. Until then, I will hold onto your sword. When you have met this requirement, I will return your sword to you."

I quickly unbuckled my scabbard from my belt. I held up the scabbard reverently with both hands. "Please hold my sword for safe keeping, master."

"I accept your sword for safe keeping," Kalistra replied and took my sword. She attached the scabbard to her right hip.

Now that I had permission to change my profession, I turned my attention toward Rijana. "Will you teach me magic?" I asked and bowed deeply to her.

"If you agree to cancel my outstanding debt to you, then yes I will," she answered.

"Yes," I agreed readily. While 250 gold coins was a lot of money, I accepted Rijana's offer anyway because I was confident that she will be a good instructor. More importantly, I believed that she will be serious in teaching me the wizardly arts rather than pretend to teach me. Also, I was certain that the Gamemaster wanted to turn my search for a teacher into a quest for his entertainment. I was fortunate, then, that I could leverage Rijana's personal debt to me and bypass the quest altogether.

Furthermore, Arthur's entrance for our match in the tournament had made a deep impression on me. The commoners were calling him the "Pendragon Reborn," as if he was the reincarnation of King Arthur. Well, in that case, I could pursue magic and, at the same time, seek my fame and fortune as "Merlin's Successor." After all, Merlin had ruled over this kingdom at one time and renamed it to cement his rule over the kingdom. By attaching myself to his legend and becoming a mage, this will strengthen my candidacy for kingship.

With my near future decided, I raised my hand to get the attention of a barmaid and ordered a round for my table. When the mugs of ale arrived for myself and my companions, I raised my glass and offered a toast. "To a new beginning!"

THE END of Book 1: Duelist