Chapter XVIII: Eidos Arena

Mind Net, City Nineteen

Month of the Garuda 33, 172 ,328 DE

For a few seconds, Hatchet remains silent. From his posture, his mouth should be hanging wide open beneath his mask. "You're only fourteen?"

"Pretty much."

"I thought you were around my age. You look, at least, nineteen or twenty."

Feeling a bit amused at Hatchet's surprise, I shake my head. "I could be fifteen or sixteen. I don't know when I was born, but I was about three when a shitty old man took me in."

With a sigh, Hatchet points at Aoi. "Is the toddler fourteen too?"

Standing on tips of her toes, Aoi bristles like an angry cat. "Aoi will be fifteen before the school year ends! A real woman! Aoi is Pervert Master's lover!"

With the suspicion that it will become a habit, I smack Aoi on the top of her head, again.

"Ow! Slap Aoi's ass! Not her head!"

"Can't do that. I don't want to give you brain damage."

Still on the balls of her feet, Aoi leans forward and glares at me. "Asshole Pervert Master!"

Hatchet laughs. "So, you two are married?"

"Fuck off."

Aoi spins around toward Hatchet. "Hatchet Face thinks Aoi and Beast look like a married couple? Aoi likes Hatchet Face."

Hatchet's otherwise plain, starter mask has a black hatchet diagonally across his face. He is among the minority, those who do not upgrade to elaborate masks as soon as they have the points for it.

"Don't pander to the crazy girl. We're headed to the arena. If you help me train this lunatic, I'll go a few rounds with you." Grabbing Aoi by the back of her collar, I head in the direction of the arena.

"This looks to be entertaining." With a laugh, Hatchet walks along with us.

The entire diameter of the city is around one hundred kilometers, and the arena stands close to ten kilometers from the central circle. Even so, it only takes us a little more than ten minutes to reach the arena. If I were not pulling Aoi along with me, Hatchet and I could have crossed the distance in less than half the time. In the Mind Net, the stronger your Mind, the faster you can move, as long as you the tricks to do so, that is.

Hatchet is someone with a strong Mind, who knows many of the tricks and techniques to take advantage of this Eidos construct. I do not know about his sect, but he is someone, who knows how to use Psi to some degree.

As we enter the plaza fronting the arena, Aoi gasps and stares at the huge building. With an oval shape, the white marble arena spans more than two kilometers on its longer axis and stands over two hundred meters in height. Bas-relief sculptures of humans fighting humans and Ferocious Beasts cover the outer wall from the ground to the top of the structure.

"Does Beast come here a lot?"

I shake my head. "Now and then. Other than Hatchet and few others, most of the Cultivators that come here don't have strong enough Minds to make for interesting fights. Hunting Ferocious Beasts in the Demonic Wildlands is more of a challenge."

Hatchet's head snaps around to stare at me, but he does not say anything.

Many of the five or six hundred Cultivators scattered around the plaza look in our direction, but none of them show any inclination to approach us. Most of the city's residents hate Hatchet and myself. We are too strong. Very few Cultivators in this city dare to challenge us. About the only we can get any fights is to use the random matching system in the arena, but most Cultivators do not use it. The random matching does not take a user's strength into account. Random matches often have opponents of wildly differing strengths face one another. For Hatchet and myself, the random matches are just an easy way to scam points.

As we near the north entry of the arena, Aoi points at the words carved into a rectangle of stone with no sculptures over the door. "What does that say?"

"City 19 Arena."

Hatchet looks around and speaks in a low voice. "You can read the language of the War Masters?"

No one is close enough to have overheard Hatchet's words, and I keep my voice soft, as well. "I can read and speak a lot of languages. Five of them were used by the War Masters."

"Then, you know this was a training ground for the War Masters in ancient time." Hatchet phrases his words as a statement, but he seems to be seeking confirmation of his thoughts.

I shrug. "What's your point?"

Now that we are inside the arena's north lobby, Hatchet looks around. Beckoning us to follow, he heads to one of the control podiums and activates a private combat stage.

Once the three of us materialize below a raised marble stage with no one else in the private stadium, Hatchet turns to face me. "Even though we call this the Dream World, it is a place formed from pure thought. Our Sea of Consciousness is removed from our body and takes what feels like physical form. Do you know what the purpose of this world is?"

Unconsciously, I narrow my eyes. "You should already know. This is a training tool. Why else would you be able to buy combat techniques for points or ranked rewards?"

"Nearly all of those so-called combat techniques are unusable. They make absolutely no sense. What are actualized patterns supposed to be? What are Mana, Psi, and Ki supposed to be?"

I snort. "Just because no one understands the underlying theories and practices to use the combat techniques, it doesn't mean they're unusable. It just means we don't know enough to use them."

"Can you use any of them?

I shrug indifferently. "I'm not a Cultivator. I practice a scripture for Body Forging."

"Do you practice Mind Force cultivation?"

"Fused to my Sea of Consciousness."

Hatchet raw shock fills his scent. "I think I understand why you're such a monster. But that is a path with no future. You'll hit a wall."

Once more, I shrug indifferently. "I'll deal with that wall when I reach it."

Hatchet shakes his head. "That girl is a Cultivator. If you don't Cultivate, how are you going to teach her?"

I display my well-practiced, smug smirk. "That's what I roped you in for. Crazy Girl needs to learn a few strong techniques for attack and defense. Common stuff. I'm not looking for your sect's secrets."

"For every five straight rounds you can beat me, I'll teach her a technique."

"And if I lose five straight?"

"I need a training partner. I want five hours of practice time with you. Even if you are not a Cultivator, fighting you can help me polish my Martial techniques. I need to practice the sect's upcoming ranking competition. The higher I rank, the more Cultivation resources I get."

I nod. "Deal. First blood or death?"

"Death. My sect's ranking competitions don't end with first blood."

In the Mind Net arenas, it only takes a thought to bring up a list of combat options available. I choose "Unlimited: Death or Surrender" from the list. We will be able to use any techniques that we could use in the real world. The Mind Net will Mana and Ki based techniques and effect perfectly.

Glowing numbers appear in the center of our private stadium.

5

4

3

2

1

As the countdown finishes, our match begins, but neither of us makes a move. In the past year, give or take, we have fought many times. Hatchet is good, and he is Cultivator who can use better-than-average Martial techniques. With my Mana, Psi, and Ki fused to my Body, Mind, and Soul, I cannot, and the Mind Net reflects that. You can only use techniques that you can use in the real world. If I make a careless move, Hatchet will have the advantage.

After a few seconds, Hatchet springs toward me, and I dash forward at a shallow angle to the left of his line of movement. Sensing a surge of Mana in Hatchet's right arm, I squat on my left leg and sweep Hatchet's legs with my right. As Hatchet jumps over my leg sweep, his attack misses, and a greyish ball of compressed air passes over my head.

Letting the momentum from my leg sweep spin me around, I rise to my feet, and Hatchet spins around to face me.

"You've used that attack before, but your delivery has become a lot faster."

Hatchet gives me a half-nod. "Your movements are faster."

"I had a breakthrough in my Body Forging." My words are a half-lie. My breakthrough was touching on Trinity for the first time, but I have always held back in the Mind Net. I do not want anyone to know my limits.

Hatchet should be the same. I doubt he has ever gone all-out against me.

As Hatchet slashes his left hand in front of himself, his Mana surges and a meter-wide, crescent blade of compressed air streaks toward me. Ducking under the air blade, I slap off the ground to spring back to my feet and kick the charging Hatchet.

Hatchet blocks my kick, but the impact stops him in his tracks. We exchange blows, a mix of punches, kicks, spearhands, and knifehands. Hatchet's Mana flows through his Body, making it stronger and much faster. From the types of attacks I have seen him use, he should practice mostly air-based Martial techniques, and air techniques tend more toward speed than strength in their enhancement of the Body.

After nearly a hundred attacks, Mana surges in Hatchet's legs, and with his body twisting, he brings his leg up between us. As Hatchet unleashes a Mana-powered sidekick, I leap into the air and hammer both heels into his chest before he can recover his posture. He blocks my kick, but the force of the blow knocks him to the ground.

I land on the ground with my feet on either side of Hatchet's torso, and he sends a punch toward my balls. Pinning Hatchet's punching arm between my knees, I twist and drop my full weight onto his chest. His forearm snaps, and the impact of my knees fractures his ribs.

I unleash a fusillade of heavy punches at Hatchet's head, and with only one working arm, he barely manages to block half of them. His nose breaks. The skin around his bruises and splits. The bones in his skull fracture.

"Surrender!"

With Hatchet's angry shout, the arena separates us, and all of Hatchet's injuries heal. He stares at me, a cold look in his grey eyes, the only part of his face visible beneath the mask.

Grey eyes are not commonly seen in the Heian Kingdom or the Sengoku Empire. Like me, Hatchet would be a gaijin were he to enter the Heian Kingdom.

After a moment, the cold look fade from Hatchet's eyes. He speaks in a low, calm voice. "You have never used that kind of speed before. You've been holding back against me."

I shrug. "I recently had a breakthrough in my Body Forging. It improved my Sea of Consciousness."

"Again!"

5

4

3

2

1

At the instant the countdown finishes, Hatchet moves. Rather than attack, he springs backward, and his arms and hands move quickly, forming Dao seals. Cultivator call these seals Martial techniques, but Old Man Jones calls them half-assed spells. I have no real opinion. Whether Martial techniques or spells, their purpose is to control and manipulate Power. How you label them does not much matter. They are not proper Names, so they only have a minuscule ability to affect reality, if that.

I could immediately attack Hatchet, but I am curious to see what he has planned. I cannot die for real in an arena duel, so it is best to learn as much as I can. There might come a day when I face a similar technique in the real world.

The flows of Mana appear to affect the air around Hatchet. After a few seconds, cyclonic swirls of air take shape around his arms and legs. His limbs twitch rapidly, almost looking like they are having spasms.

"You were a fool to let me finish Carried By Wind . Now, you will lose. I will beat you like a dog."

I display a condescending smirk. "Trying to insult me so badly. You must be mad I kicked your ass, Brother Hatchet."

Hatchet snorts. "You only call someone 'Brother' when looking down on them. I'll show how foolish you are, Brother Beast."

"Bring it on." I crook my index and middle fingers in a come-hither gesture.

Hatchet moves before I finish my gesture. He moves fast, faster than I have ever seen him move. Almost before I have the chance to react, his punch is in my face. I twist my head and lean to the side, but the winds surrounding Hatchet's fist shred the skin on the right side of my face.

Crack!

"OOOFF!" As my shovel punch hammers into Hatchet's floating ribs, his expelled breath comes out as an inarticulate ejaculation.

Boxing is an extremely basic fighting style form Old Man Jones' original world. He calls it more of a sport than a real combat art, but when properly used, its techniques are very useful in real combat. The best thing about styles like Boxing and Thai Boxing is that they do not depend on the flow of Power; they are pure physical combat styles. With my Power fused Body, Mind, and Soul, I can still use them.

Flying through the air, Hatchet twists into a backflip and lands on his feet, but he obviously favors his left side.

"How much have you been holding back against me?"

I shrug. "I had a breakthrough."

"Bullshit. No one has the kind of dog shit luck to improve so much with one breakthrough! You were never so fast before."

I grin at Hatchet. "Just because I like to rely on strength, it don't mean I'm slow."

Once again, I crook my index and middle fingers in a come hither gesture, to taunt Hatchet. "Losers first. Your move."

Springing into the air, Hatchet rises to a height of more than ten meters. Flipping over, he plunges toward me, fists first. The winds around his arms combine into a single tornado-like wind, enwrapping his entire upper body. He moves so quickly, I barely manage to avoid the main impact of his diving attack. While tearing apart my clothes and the skin on the left half of my body, the cyclonic winds lift me off my feet and send me flying. The stone stage, where I was standing, shatters, and rubble from a half-meter deep hole scatters in all directions.

Without any solid footing, I barely manage to twist and land on my feet. Blood from my ravaged skin and flesh drips to the ground. If this fight lasts more than another minute, blood loss will cause me to lose. Should I encounter a similar technique in the real world, I need to stop it before it can be used on me. Lesson learned.

Grabbing a couple of larger pieces of rubble, I hurl them at Hatchet with my full strength, one at his head and the other at his balls. He deflects the one targeting his head, but the other slams into his thigh. His control over those winds appears to have a limit.

Grabbing two more pieces of rubble, I charge at Hatchet. As I get closer, one after the next, I throw both pieces at his head. Bending over while still moving full speed, I snatch another piece of rubble and sling it at his head sidearm.

Crack-pop!

While Hatchet blocks the last chunk of stone, I squat on one leg and spin a full 360 º. My shin slams into Hatchet's knee, shattering bone and dislocating the joint. The force of my kick flips Hatchet head over heels.

"AAAARRRR!"

With a scream of pain, Hatchet slams into the stone stage and grabs his ruined knee.

Not giving Hatchet a chance to recover, I spring into the air, and doing a midair somersault, I hammer an axe kick into his skull.

"Death, Hatchet." An artificial-sounding voice fills our stage.

We both disappear and reappear at our starting positions. Our wounds heal in barely a second, and my ruined clothes return to their original condition.

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