Derb watched as the two came out into the arena. They were wearing pairing clothes, though one was dyed red and the other blue. The woman had delicate and pale features, with a constant pout on her lips. Salem was the exact opposite. Tall, imposing, and sharp, he’d almost be handsome if he wasn’t so skinny… wait. They came out with bored looks in their eyes, as if they expected from the beginning that nothing here would challenge them. For a good two minutes no one moved a muscle, except for Connor who was flying in a small circle right above Derb in the sky. Even Jack seemed to behave himself without needing to be ordered, he knew they weren’t someone they could take on.

At some point Derb couldn’t take it, unsheathing his sword. “Ryan, they’re just two people, we’ve got six on our side. I’m going first.” With a leap he charged forward, aiming for the one closest to him. It’s the one he assumed was Salem. His clothes were gaudy and feminine but his eyes and face were sharp and tough. His hair was an auburn color, with specks of gold. He noticed this because he’d had his snake eyes on the entire charge. As the head slowly turned to him he gasped, not a single opening was left on him.

Normal time resumed and he dodged to the side despite Salem not having made a move. If he had to trust anything it'd be his instincts. He was lucky to have done so, as the man pulled out a sword handle. It had no blade, and Derb wondered why he had such a thing. His eyes basically bugged out when he saw a red hot beam grow out of the handle. The thing looked like a goddamn lightsaber, down to the letter. The lady named Krystal came up to Salem and whispered to his ear, looking angry. They argued silently, before she sighed and also took out a handle, summoning a white goddamn lightsaber.

Derb looked at his sword with apprehension. He knew they probably weren’t lightsabers but he didn’t want to find out. This sword was probably really expensive.... He’d also get murdered by Deitre if he found out. “Connor, focus fire the blue one. Hex both of them, though. They’re swordsmen so they probably can’t reach you.” Connor nodded, no longer scared now that they weren’t terribly outnumbered. “Ryan, how would you go against them normally? Can they… hurt my sword?”

Ryan looked at him weirdly, “You’re a swordsman and you don’t know? As long as you infuse your sword it’d be hard for even a low quality blade to break. I’m sure you know how to, right?” Derb looked at him with a worried smile, then at the sky, cursing everybody who existed. He pierced his blade into the ground, leaving it there. “Nope. I guess I have to fight without it.” Ryan gawked at the statement, and then became incredibly furious. “Do you have ANY idea who we’re up against?! This isn’t a time for jokes!”

Derb shrugged, stepping light on his toes. The sword really weighed him down, making him about twice as heavy as before. “Gabby! Do you mind lending me one of your knives? I promise I'll pay you back.” She turned to him like he was a moron. “So are my weapons worth ruining? Jump off a cliff.” He laughed at the cold shoulder. “Fine. fine, it’s just a tournament either way. It doesn’t matter whether we lose or not, yeah?” She looked at him with venomous eyes, until she cursed every word she could think of. “Each of them is five silver. You break it, you buy it.”

She handed him both daggers, summoning her wind blades out of thin air. ‘Why would you care about the daggers if you could just do that?’ He thought to himself, making sure to not directly say that to the one with two terrifying wind weapons. He looked at the daggers, they were really long, almost to the point of short swords. He tried moving them around and found them to be almost weightless. At some point the greatsword lost its weight to him, so holding such a tiny weapon to fight seemed almost sacrilegious.

They had no more time to argue, though. As Salem and Krystal seemed to have enough. Derb jumped into the fray first, using snake eyes to dodge one of the swords at the last moment. He thought he did well until flames lagged behind the sword. Almost coating him in flames. “Woah!” He cried, turning sideways. “That’s not fair! How am I supposed to hit you?!” Salem just snarled and continued his attacks. Derb soon figured out there was no chance to escape. Salem’s slashes blew out flames in almost a flamethrower arc that spread the farther it got.

This meant if he tried to run away he’d probably be burnt to a crisp. He just had to bob and weave the flames, getting hotter and hotter every time it happened. He almost gave up and jumped straight into the air as a last resort before Salem himself retreated. His face was red and his clothes were tattered in flames. Krystal came up to him and put a hand to his chest, coating his body in a light blue frost. Almost instantly he looked better, ready to take him on once more. He ran back to Ryan and the others, gasping and exhausted. “You… didn’t tell me they could do that… I almost died out there!”

Ryan was staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost. “You… dodged all that? That’s insane. You’re insane… haha.” Ryan rubbed his temples, maybe they still had a chance. “Look, the next group will be here in a few minutes, hold off Salem while we attack Krystal. If we can hold them off long enough we can throw the newbies at them to tire them out.” Derb nodded, only to look back in shock.”What do you expect me to do against a walking flamethrower!?” Ryan chuckled, “He doesn’t throw flames, he swings his sword and you’re the only one who can dodge his attacks.”

Derb couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Dodge!? I was- he was just- I just couldn’t escape! You try-” The conversation was quickly cut out by a jet of flame coming between them, or more accurately, barreling right for Derb. He jumped in the air and told Connor to grab him, pulling him along and out of the blast. It was less a carry and more a slightly slower fall as Connor couldn’t carry him even with the Rabbit spell. From the sky Derb saw Salem aim his sword again, his face red with anger.

He unsummoned Connor, falling towards the ground fast enough to dodge the second hit. He was fast enough that Salem didn’t even notice his approach, since he was too focused trying to see through the flames. With a spin Derb aimed the dagger right for his neck… only to miss entirely. While it was mostly due to the skill of Salem he couldn’t help but realize one thing. “Shit… I don't know how to use these things”

He dodged right, predicting the next flame arc from the swing. The flame tickled his armor, and he felt like a baked chicken. There was no way to attack, every swing had an aftershock of flame, which lasted long enough for another swing to start. This was someone to use range on, but the team had no one who specialized in that… regard. In a spark of brilliance, he threw the daggers right at Salem, only for it to miss spectacularly, and stupidly. One melted in the flame while the other shattered against a wall thanks to the strength and lack of skill behind the throw. Salem even paused for a second, his face scrunched up in absolute disappointment.

Derb took that chance and went for him, in a perfect beat he sent a flying kick at Salem, with a masterful crouch Salem dodged by inches. The attack wasn’t over, though. In a stream of consecutive attacks, Derb threw kicks and punches like a madman. The only thing keeping him balance was his snake eyes rapidly depleting his mana. He was scared that if he let the spell turn off the sped-up world would instantly knock him onto his butt. He tried to finish it early but Salem kept dodging everything, though with a frantic and panicked look to his eye.

Derb stopped when his mana was a tenth of what it used to be. His face felt hot and his breathing was ragged. He had no training fighting hand to hand only, only using the occasional punch and kick to surprise enemies. What he’d been doing was stretching his body to the limits and using muscles he didn’t even know he had, so his body complained in response. Salem watched his ragged form and grinned smugly, speaking to him for the first time. “Quite well done for a local, it seems I'll have to reconsider this area’s skill.”

The controlled tone wasn’t hiding his exhaustion, he was obviously trying to control his breathing. Derb barked out between gasping breaths. “Not fooling anyone... beanpole. I had you... on the ropes.” Salem’s face scrunched up in anger, whatever he said was an obvious insult towards his skinny stature and height. With an intensity unseen before he brought the sword down right on Derb’s head, It would have even hit had Jack not swooped in and tackled Salem right into the ground.

The demon was pretty silent when he was ordered to be, and the order Derb sent him was fast enough to save him from certain death. Jack grabbed the waist of the strong warrior in the ground, and Derb watched as a fist went up to bring the pain. He’d almost accepted victory until a giant arc of flame went right past it, the arm sloppily falling to the ground while spewing viscous black fluid. The screech that came from the demon was something he could only describe as hellish. Its mask-like appendage on its face tore open like clay, directly pointed at Salem.

The howl was so loud it overshadowed the crowd’s roar. Instantly bringing the arena to a deafening silence. Salem wasn’t moving, but he wasn’t being whisked away either. Derb ran forward to try to do something but It was done. Jack fell over to the side, twitching while trying to crawl away. The ‘blood’ coming from his right stump discharged all over the floor as he tried to escape the horror that did it to him. Derb had no time to unsummon him, he reached Salem’s stunned body and with his boar strength gripped his throat with enough power to hear something snap. He was gone soon after.

Jack, however, wasn’t. His last death howl ringed against the walls of the silent arena. With a shudder, he flopped to the ground, a giant puddle of black bile growing around him. Derb silently unsummoned him, both guilty at having not done it sooner and embarrassed at the hundreds of people looking at the horrible scene that was his fault. The damage hadn’t killed Jack, it only immobilized him to the point where it’d take him almost a day to heal. The ridiculous healing factor was why he didn’t just pop out of existence like the rest of them.

Even in his soul, it’d take him almost six hours to fully heal, much longer than the rest of the competition would take. He wobbled over to his greatsword and picked it up, raising it over his head. “I WON!” He shouted, voice infused with mana. ...He expected a better reaction, not a single person was even looking at him, only staring at the black blood staining the floor while whispers filled the arena. He spun around, looking at everyone left. A new group had already come a few minutes ago, staring at him with rough and sharp gazes. Less fear and more caution. Ryan and Gabby were still staring down Krystal, whose body was covered in a thin layer of frost.

He found Adam standing behind the two, holding his stomach. He was no longer in his giant form but he was still in the fight, if a bit worse off. Speaking of which… Derb felt terrible. His body was bruised and burning, his muscles were tired and if it wasn’t for the grip enchantment he was sure his sword would fall from one hit. Once again he cursed the damn ritualist from barring his use of his healing ability.

He wanted to rest, at least rest for a bit, but Ryan and the others were busy with Krystal. The group that just came in looked at him like a piece of prime meat. He couldn’t blame them, he was basically a free kill at this point. With a nonchalant rotation of his sword, he placed it on his shoulders. The cloak hid the ruined parts of his armor, and the grip enchantment made him look stronger than he really did. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could barely keep himself up and looked like a newborn deer he’d almost be considered passable.

He took one step forward, no sense letting them have the advantage of a first hit. What happened was surprising, they flinched back the moment they started walking towards them. He didn’t understand, it was one versus 6 people. He kept going forward, he wasn’t confident enough to start running but he felt sure he wouldn’t trip and fall on his ass walking. They didn’t move from their spot, it seemed their leader was encouraging them that they could do it. He seemed young, with curly brown hair and freckles dotting his cheeks. The others were as well, maybe a year younger than he was.

They no longer had fear in their eyes, except for the two mages in the back. Two women who seemed like they wanted to say something. Why was he noticing this now? Well, the first reason was probably that he was delirious and about to faint. The second was the fact that they were the first group to look so young. Everyone else had a sense of gruff experience that came with age, in most it meant looking defeated, in others it meant absolute confidence in their skills. These people looked as if they were hopeful for the future, but unsure of what it meant, just like him.

He rubbed his eyes, forgetting that his helmet was in the way. He was and his eyesight was wavy, but he swore everything was shown in more detail. The crowd was no longer a single face, people were angry, excited, and bloodthirsty. His head moved like a snail’s pace, no, it just felt like that. His brain was moving too fast and his weakened body was lagging behind. He tried blinking it away but it didn’t work. At least it wasn’t burning his mana. Another group being sent in was his queue to hurry up. With a simple leap, he closed the gap. Landing right in front of them.

They all flinched, all except for the leader who lunged forward. He sidestepped the longsword and headbutted him, jumping back when two others came to back him up. It was slow enough to be simple. He fell forward just enough to dodge an incoming sword, using his greatsword to block another. With a well-timed kick, he snapped someone's leg, not paying attention to an arrow that impacted his stomach. He ripped it out and jammed it into the man with the broken leg’s neck, ending that confrontation.

He broke another’s nose with his hilt, barely noticing and ducking under a sword that was more massive than his. It had some impact, crashing into the ground and digging up the floor. He didn’t bother blocking a sword going for his thigh, he just took it and swung his sword right through the greatsword user. Another down. Another arrow went into his back, his shoulder cramped up a second too late, and he couldn’t capsize on the momentum. He jumped back and took in the scene. He realized he couldn’t hear anything anymore, Even the speaker sounded like a violent hum.

He realized too late that taking a breather was an idiotic idea. Three giant birds started chasing him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw one of the mages healing the broken nose he’d given to the leader. He grabbed the neck of one of the birds, a summon that he guessed belonged to the other mage. With his boar spell, it was simple enough to snap its neck. The other two were dealt with a single swing of his sword, they seemed to be quite stupid. He took the chance to resummon Connor, ready to show off what a real demon looked like.

Connor rubbed his eyes and flew around Derb, checking his Master’s condition. The summoning mage’s mouth made an O in shock, which was quite satisfying to see. It was four against two now, a fairer fight. Connor looked at his master’s ragged form, it seemed to be mostly exhaustion but another factor was making him even more ruined. He cried when he saw the arrow in his back, pulling it out and confirming his hypothesis. “P-poison! Master... ‘poison’!” Connor said through the soul link after realizing Derb was deaf. He growled and nodded his head. What an underhanded tactic, he was starting to lose his earlier respect for them.

Connor put his hands around his master’s head pumping dark mana into him and refilling his stock, it blew away the poison. No longer ravaging his body. The wounds remained though, he just wasn’t going to get worse. He ordered Connor to attack the warriors and they did so without hesitation. Connor was probably mad someone had gotten him to this state. With black fire, he separated the group, just enough to leave the summoner unattended. He leaped over, landing right in front of her in an intimidating display. She fell on her rump and yelled, scuttering back.

“You’re the first summoner I've seen other than myself, let’s talk later.” He said, before piercing her heart with his greatsword. The rest of the team saw this and all simultaneously roared in anger. Even the kind healer looked red in the face. He walked forward as the last two warriors ran at him. Now that they were angry they were easier to fight. With a single one-handed swing, he blew past the sword of one, ripping right through the leader in an instant. He was gone just as fast. He used the hilt of his greatsword to block the chop at his leg, punching the man in the nose and then tearing through him with the sword.

All that was left was the healer. She had tears in her eyes, as she looked at the man who tore through her teammates. “I heard that healers don't like fighting.” He slung the sword onto his shoulder’s walking towards her. She seemed to be furiously cursing at him but all he could hear was ringing. “Well, I'm sure you have your reasons. It’s not like I know your life.” He raised his sword in the air, and she raised her arms in fear. A second later he sat on the ground, leaning against his greatsword. He won.

His vision was getting hazy, no longer at the same detail it was before. He could see that two more teams had littered the field, but he couldn’t make out any more specifics than that. Connor went behind him and filtered his mana supplies, making his mind clearer and his body stronger until he ran out. Derb put him back into his soul, a manaless mage might as well have been useless. It seemed the poison was stronger than they thought, no matter how far they worked to remove it the poison always seemed to come back. No one was making a move on him, which made sense. He was already dying so there was no need to waste effort on him.

Once his vision got clear enough to see he was pleasantly surprised at what he saw. Krystal was no longer there, neither was Ryan and Gabby. Adam was still there and wrecking shop but he felt better knowing he didn’t have to deal with the faster ones. He stood up to join the fight but stumbled, his stomach growling in complaint. He thought about using dark mana once to heal himself but remembered how overwhelmingly powerful the ritualist was, choosing to just deal with it.

He walked forward, using his sword as a makeshift crutch, which was stupid considering how heavy it was. Adam saw him and gave him a giant grin, pummeling the person under him to death before jogging towards him. He tried talking to him but Derb still couldn’t hear. “I’m sorry, big guy, I can't hear anything right now.” Adam looked at him funny before grabbing Derb’s head worriedly, shaking him around before eventually letting him go. If he wanted to he’d have been able to crush him then and there, Derb bet Chipmunk was probably going feral thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. I just need a few seconds to rest so pretend I'm chipmunk for a second, ok?” The giant man started to say something before remembering the situation and just nodding. Derb grinned at the stupidity, if he wasn’t absolutely sure that Adam would despise him after the tournament he was sure they’d make great friends. He watched on as Adam ran to fight the other two in the three-man group. The one on the left seemed to be quick but didn’t really attack. The mage in the background was more aggressive, shooting rocks at Adam every chance she… could… Oh fuck.

He stood up and charged forward, with a single spinning leap his sword went right through Adam’s neck, instantly beheading him. He didn’t stand a chance. The warrior with a helmet paused before removing his helmet, a large grin on his face. Derb had the same grin on his face. “Derrick! Jenny! You lucky bastards, I was the first one to enter this hell hole, you know.” Jenny smiled worriedly at the reunion, saying something that he couldn’t hear, pointing at where Adam was before.

Derb just shrugged, “I’m deaf right now, if you’re talking about why I killed him it was because he went behind my back and killed Jack. He thought I didn't notice but I was just keeping him around for help.” They looked at each other with a peculiar glance, before nodding and confirming that that’s what they asked. He grinned, wincing internally at the poison spreading through his body. “Let’s hurry up and finish this, there haven’t been any new groups coming out so I'm sure they’re the last ones.” He said, pointing at the particularly weak-looking group of five people. He didn’t wait and walked towards them, ready to fight.

That was until Derrick’s sword came from behind and decapitated him instantly.