It took over an hour for the tournament fight to get approved. Dallion found it beyond annoying that in a world with instant communications, arguably even faster than those on Earth, it took so long for something simple. Strictly speaking, everything that was necessary was for someone on the tournament committee to create an echo in an item and then have the contestants go at it. However, when nobles were concerned, nothing was as simple. No one dared do anything that would displease powerful interests, so soon to opening day. Instead, the unfortunate person in question had gone through several people, each more important than the last, until finally someone from the Lord Mayor’s household had given the green light.

Finally, after a lot of excuses and half a dozen plates of fruit—the preliminary tournament began. One thing that became obvious was that it was very different from all the ones Dallion had participated in until now. In the past, the first were almost casual: both participants would enter in the tournament item, have a quick battle under the keen eye of a selected echo, then return to the real world and have the result noted. At present, the echoes were five, two of which everyone knew well.

“Ah, Gola, so reliable of you to have another go,” the echo of Lady Marigold said. “You’ve become a feature of the festival. A few more years and people will gather just to see your preliminary.”

“You honor me, my lady.” The man bowed to the echo.

“And a charmer, as usual. It’s a pity that you’ll have to go against this pup. He’s done a lot in a short amount of time. It won’t be easy for you.”

“The good things in life are always worth the effort. You told me that, my lady.”

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” the noble mused for a few moments. “It was during your first official appearance. It caused quite a stir, at the time. Even the countess noted how unusual your case was.”

The praise didn’t bode well for Dallion. All illusions he had that facing a double digit would be a walk in the park were quickly put to rest. He had only met Lady Marigold once, but he had come to the conclusion that she was extremely good at determining someone’s worth. The fact that she had said the fight won’t be easy for Gola suggested that she favored him against Dallion.

Standing close to the old noble was another echo—that of Constanza. The girl was already treated as a potential noble, given tasks to learn the ropes of ruling the city one day. The remaining three echoes were those of committee members. They stood a respectable distance away, focusing more on the battle to come.

“Are you feeling up to it, Dallion?” lady Marigold asked. “This is a big occasion. While the fight cannot be compared to the arena experience, it is considered the final of the preliminaries. The fact that you got here is no small feat, not that I had any doubt that you would.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Dallion bowed as well.

“Just one request, if I may,” the noble’s voice hardened. “You are allowed to use any skills and weapons at your disposal, but I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t use any familiars.”

There it was—the first unofficially official restriction. Dallion knew that, he even had imposed the restriction on himself; after all, there would be no familiars in the real world, so there was no point in acquiring a false sense of security. Even so, hearing it from the noble suggested something more at play.

“Of course, Lady Marigold.”

Constanza took a step forward, standing in front of her great aunt. If she were to take her rightful place among the ruling class, she would be required to fight and defeat people of Dallion’s current skill and pretty soon.

“Ready when you are,” the old noble said.

“Applicants, take you places,” one of the other echoes said.

“Good luck,” Dallion whispered before going to the indicated section of the field. His opponent did the same.

All sound vanished from the realm. Each fighter focused on one thing alone—their opponent.

“Begin!”

Both opponents summoned their weapons. Dallion went with the armadil shield and harpsisword. His opponent immediately split into three instances: two charged forward with a spear, while the third had summoned a bow and fired an arrow at Dallion.

A bow? Dallion wondered. The only time he had seen such a weapon was back in Dherma village. A few of the hunters used bows back then, although even they preferred hand to hand weapons.

Dartbows are actually rare weapons, even among awakened, Nil said. You’ve been fortunate to have one so far, but it’s far more often for people to use knives for ranged attacks. Bows, while less common, are also a valid option.

Good to know.

Dallion split into three instances as well, countering each of the attacks. The arrow was easily deflected with the armadil shield, while in the case of the spear attacks, Dallion charged forward to meet his opponent.

A series of attacks and counter-attacks followed. While not flashy, Gola was methodical in his approach, not to mention very precise. Every action had a dual purpose—to inflict maximum damage, but also to determine Dallion’s abilities. In other circumstances, Dallion would have loved to have him as a sparring partner, or even a teacher. Now, though, winning was the only option.

Instances clashed with instances for over a minute. Guard, attack, and acrobatic skills were constantly used in combination and in sequence. Each encounter became more and more elaborate, up to the point that half of the fight took place in the air. Then, almost in perfect unison, both opponents pulled back.

“They’re only using three?” the echo of Constanza said to her great aunt.

“People preserve their strength during scouting,” the old woman said. Her tone was warm, but Dallion could see drains of disapproval appear within her. “You were taught all this.”

This was the first time Dallion heard the term used in such fashion. As far as nobles were concerned, scouting wasn’t just used for areas and items, it was used for people as well. That’s what the Red Moon had meant when he had offered Dallion to pass through the second gate: awakened analyzed each other a lot more now. Every action, every move, was judged so as to give a clear picture of an opponent’s current state and future potential. The same had happened during the expedition.

“And now that the scouting has ended, the real fight will begin,” Lady Marigold added.

Gola unsummoned his spear, replacing it with a halberd. A new set of armor covered his body. Now he actually looked like a fighter, possibly even a hunter. Gone were the simple clothes and the semi-meek attitude. Dallion could see determination, excitement, and battle-thirst appear throughout the man’s body. It wasn’t only a desire for financial freedom that had led Gola to participate in every tournament all those years, the man enjoyed fighting, and this was one of the few legal ways to do it.

“Ready?” Gola asked.

Dallion didn’t answer immediately. There were several courses of action he could take. While Lady Marigold had forbidden the use of familiars, she hadn’t said anything about music. Even after his recent level decrease, he could decrease the effectiveness of his opponent by a quarter, if not more. Should he do it, though? It would greatly increase his chances, if not ensuring victory outright. But wasn’t that just another shortcut?

Shortcuts aren’t always bad, dear boy. It’s relying on them, that is, Nil said. As usual, the decision is yours.

Has it even been mine? Dallion smirked.

Not till recently, but it is now.

“Ready,” Dallion replied. He wasn’t going to use music after all.

There was an instant of stillness, as if a field had absorbed any potential of movement, then suddenly released it ten-told. Gola dashed forward, the halberd head slashing through the air, like calligraphy strokes.

Shield, hold tight! Dallion thought.

A month ago, he would have lost for certain. Even now, his reaction was severely lacking. However, his other stats and gear made up for it.

MINOR WOUND

Your health has been decreased by 5%

First blood had been spilled, and Dallion had lost. Normally, he wouldn’t even worry about that—a minor wound would be healed in about ten seconds. Without Lux, though, even minor wounds meant that Dallion was nineteen hits from defeat.

Twisting to the side along the defense markers his guard skill provided, Dallion managed to evade several more attacks. However, before he could complete the sequence, his opponent changed stance, performing a new type of strike.

You’ve no intention of letting me use bonuses, are you? Dallion thought.

It had been quite a while before anyone had focused on that. Usually, the enemies that Dallion had faced were so strong that they preferred to focus on their own superior attacks with the goal of stacking up bonuses faster. Gola was a disruptor—he knew the difference in strengths, so he focused on breaking the flow of his enemy. However, in doing so, he also left himself open. It wasn’t a big risk—the weakness wasn’t apparent or even easily noticeable. However, Dallion’s perception let him to take advantage.

Letting go of his harpsisword, Dallion summoned a dartbow and attempted to strike his opponent in the face. The attack was blocked, of course, but it also gave Dallion the possibility to press the trigger. A bolt made its way between the armor pieces, penetrating Gola’s body in the weak spot beneath his right armpit.

CRITICAL SHOT

Dealt Damage is increased by 200%

The single shot had halved Gola’s health total, but the man had no intention of giving up, managing to land two more strokes before leaping back.

Dallion immediately followed, summoning his Nox dagger. Now that he had the advantage, it would be best if he made full use of it performing a rapid series of strikes. Gola’s reaction speed was fast enough to guard against most of them, but that wasn’t Dallion’s point. For every strike that was blocked, cracks emerged on his opponent’s halberd. Using his music and forging skills, Dallion saw in real time how the weapon got weaker and weaker, until at one point, it broke in two.

That was not all. The moment of confusion allowed Dallion to land two more hits, further increasing his lead. Gola was left with less than twenty percent, which meant that any good hit from the Nox dagger would earn Dallion victory. Before he could achieve that hit, though, Dallion felt a sharp kick in the stomach. The pain was momentary, but it threw him back close to a dozen feet, dealing a surprisingly high amount of damage, as well as allowing his opponent to get a break.

That was sloppy, Nil said in a disapproving tone. You could have won this already if you hadn’t become greedy.

All part of the learning process, Dallion replied, although deep inside he was furious with himself. This was the most obvious rookie mistake. All that he had to do was to slowly grind down his enemy, rendering his armor useless in the process. Instead, he had gone for the kill and failed.

On the arena, this would have been your loss, the echo reminded.

Then it’s a good thing that it happened now.

“Nice weapon,” Gola said, summoning a spear with a gleaming white tip. “Where did you buy it?”

“I made it myself,” Dallion replied. For all intents and purposes that was true. The dagger was pretty useless, before he had given the domain to Nox. “What about yours?”

“A gift from the city for five years of sanitation work.”

In the past, Dallion wouldn’t have been impressed in the least. Considering sanitation work included fighting cracklings and other nasties—at times possibly thousands of them merged into one giant monster—he couldn’t but feel in awe of the other’s dedication. For that amount of work, a halberd was the least the city could give.

“True time?” Dallion asked.

“Real time,” Gola replied. “I stopped counting true time long ago.”