As she cleaned her sword, Servi realized that two more juncea had floated over to the corpse of the monster she had killed. Their legs were raised up and swiftly came down, cutting the body and spraying red mist everywhere. They continued until the very ground the body was on was completely soaked and dyed red.
Fisher turned around and spoke. “They’re something like a janitor. It’s their responsibility to clean up after a match. Feral, you’re up next. Also, I’m sorry, but you four can’t be in a group. Not during a ringed match like this. It’s specifically for one on one fights,” then he promptly turned around, pulled out a small red notebook, and began to write. No doubt he wanted to jot down his internal thoughts on what he had just witnessed from a Rank 10.
“Why did you continue to attack after it died?” Feral asked. He turned his large head and stared directly into Servi’s eyes.
“I was caught up in the moment,” she honestly told the truth. At that moment, she felt like she couldn’t live another moment without stabbing her sword into the lifeless corpse of that monster. Every stab, cut, slice, puncture, and bash broke another bone or cut off more meat or sprayed more beautiful crimson up into the air. It was no small wonder that she didn’t become covered in blood.
“I see. Perhaps we’re more alike than I thought,” Feral nodded, growled, then turned his head back to the ring. The two juncea were now in the process of eating the crimson remains of their former leader.
"But that was kinda brutal, you know? I can't even tell that corpse used to be a juncea."
"It was, but when you're in battle, sometimes your emotions get the better of you. That's what happened to me," Servi answered Silverado's question.
He spoke up again. “How did you know it was going to be a fake charge? Its stinger was broken, so....”
Servi stared at his trembling silvery hands as she spoke yet another lie. “I didn’t. I figured that if it was the leader of the colony, then it wouldn’t do something so straightforward,” she couldn’t tell them she knew the exact movements the monster would make.
“Weren’t you scared?” Rik gripped the handle of his axe so tightly that his hands began hurting. He was scared. Adrenaline surged through his body, fueling his fight or flight instinct, though it benefited the flight half more.
“Yeah. But I figured I either win, or I die,” lying again, Servi heard the crunch of bone. The two janitor-like juncea bit and swallowed through the mushed-up meat.
“Is that such a way to go through life? Just basing it on if you live or die in a single battle? What happens if you fight against someone more powerful?”
Servi answered Desperado. “It’s how I go through life. If I find someone who’s stronger, I run away,” was she telling the truth? She didn't know.
But it’s not like there’s someone stronger than me. I mean, I can almost Skill Stack 1,000 times. Who can survive 1,000 Greater Fire Balls raining from the sky or 1,000 Stonehenges?
“You almost sound like a Kobold,” Rakkire took notice of her fighting nature and compared it to what he knew best.
“What do you mean?” Servi egged him to continue.
Feral answered for Rakkire. “Most people, when they think of a Kobold, think war. That’s true. We Kobold love to fight, and we enjoy nothing more than to prove our strength. In fact, I would say you are more Kobold than Human.”
Contemplating on his words, Servi stared as the beastly being stood up and bent right back down. In one hand, Feral held nothing. The other gripped the crude handle of his shield. Black and raw, rugged and thick, Servi knew she couldn’t break through it with her current physical strength. But that wasn't what was on her mind.
If I'm so crazy about fighting that I lose myself in it, then does that mean I used to be a Kobold? I mean, is that even possible?!
“Feral,” spoke Fisher, “It’s your turn.”
“Right,” with heavy footsteps that seemed to shake the very ground, Feral made his way into the arena.
“Hey, how come he doesn’t have a weapon?”
Silverado answered Servi. “He said that he didn’t need one.”
"That shield is as much of a weapon as anything else, I guess,” after speaking her thoughts, Servi became quiet. Her eyes focused only on the Kobold, who jabbed the bottom of his shield into the ground.
The group of juncea all buzzed at once. A moment later, a single one flew into the ring. It was smaller than the one Servi fought, but its stinger didn't compare at all. With no blemishes suggesting it was anything less than perfect, it looked most similar to a newly forged sword, a virgin blade that needed to taste blood.
The fight was over as soon as it began. With such a heavy shield, the juncea stupidly assumed that the giant beast in front of it couldn’t move as fast as it could. After all, it had wings and was able to soar and fly through the sky. The Kobold in front was stuck on land. He was big and heavy, while his foe was agile and fast.
The juncea launched forward, using its speed to fly around the nearly two-meter tall shield, but due to the way it was held, the juncea couldn’t see Feral’s hand.
The truth was that Feral wasn’t holding his shield. It was standing straight up by itself, but his hands were in a position like they were gripping it.
The juncea took a wide-angle, coming in from almost behind Feral, and it was over just like that. The Kobold spun around with speed that defied his large body, knocking over his shield with his tail. It landed with a heavy noise that scattered the birds from the trees some meters away and temporarily distracted the juncea from its current predicament. Suddenly, it felt two large hands grip its black and yellow body.
“You may be fast, but it’s not fast enough. This is the end, juncea,” the monster's life was literally being squeezed out even as it tried its best to fight back, but the pain was too much. Servi knew it was dead when Feral tense his large hands, and a new soul joined her armada.
I thought taking a life would be difficult...more intense and thought-provoking, but it is not. Is it because this is nothing more than a monster? Is it because I know another one will be spawned in a few days? Feral had some thoughts as he killed for the first time. He felt indifferent, and it could’ve been because of a variety of different reasons.
When Feral used his incredible strength, the stinger was easily plucked from the juncea’s corpse as one would a stem from an apple. Like before, the two janitor juncea flew over to their kin and began to dispose of the body. Feral walked back to the group, with the chopping and slicing noise acting as a kind of a victory fanfare.
“Here,” he tossed it to Fisher. Feral then placed his shield on the ground and sat on it.
“Good work. Now, who’s next?” Fisher asked. He turned around to face the remaining four.
The four remaining challengers looked amongst themselves. It was the silver Koena that spoke first. “I’ll go next.”
Even if we can’t fight in a group, I’ll still be fine. I don’t plan to lose, but it’s nice I have the option to leave so I won’t die.
“Then get ready. And remember, there is no shame in escaping. If you can walk away from a battle at the end of the day, consider it a victory."
The four nodded, and Silverado stood up. His kite shield, tapering from a wide top to a narrow bottom, wasn't the best choice when fighting a juncea.
The juncea, if it chose to attack low, could use the two dagger-like antennae to get around the narrowness of his shield. If it decided to spread its bladed legs far and assault Silverado that way by scissoring him, it’d be impossible to block. Even though a kite shield was broad at the top, it was still narrower than a heater shield. More accurately, it was skinnier than Servi’s heater shield, which itself was thicker than other shields of the same kind.
Silverado, meanwhile, would have trouble landing a decisive blow with his blunt weapon. With a sword or any other bladed weapon, even if it was a glancing blow, there’d probably be a wound. And that meant blood. As long as enough time passed, even a minor cut could kill a beast. But with a blunt weapon, it was harder to inflict a deciding blow because they were made for breaking bones. On top of that, Silverado's weapon was wooden, and he was fighting against a monster who had plenty of razor-sharp appendages at its disposal.
I need to watch out and make sure my club doesn’t get cut. If it does, then I’m sure to die. Next time, Silverado, make sure to bring a bladed weapon, too.
He walked to the arena, where a juncea was already standing by. It was smaller than the other two, but it didn’t look scared, frightened, or even nervous. Juncea were a race that wouldn’t back down from a fight. Silverado looked up and sighed, wiping the clear paint-like sweat from his scaley brow. There weren't any clouds in the sky, and the day would only get hotter from here on out.
Come on, man! Focus! Get ready!
Silverado smacked the surface of his shield with his club, and the fight began.
The juncea was wary, though not out of fear, as it flew in a circle around Silverado. The Koena turned at the same speed, not once showing his back to his opponent.
I’m not as strong as Feral. And I’m not as talented as Servi. So what can I do? This is a fight, though it’s not to the death. I can leave whenever I want to. But—
Silverado was caught off guard while he was in the depths of his mind. He struggled to raise his shield up in time, proof he was still vastly inexperienced when it came to combat, but it was too late. The juncea’s right leg had managed to slice against Silverado’s shoulder, breaking off a scale. Red blood mixed with another liquid flowed from the wound. Panicked, Silverado swung his club wildly and managed to connect a glancing blow to the monster’s right leg blade. However, it wasn't damaged in the slightest.
It flew back, still buzzing incessantly, and started circling its prey once again.
Dammit, Silverado, you gotta stay focused! He grimaced and ignored the pain, then did his best to chant.
The juncea, even though they couldn’t speak the common language, knew what was happening. It rushed in again and lashed out with its two legs. The white sharp bladed edge desperately wanted to snuff out the Koena’s life, and the juncea attacked with full strength. Each strike carried the will of the juncea – a race that thrived on honorable combat – and it was almost a battle of two different concepts.
The concept of Silverado, a silver Koena who wanted to prove himself to his village, violently defended against a barrage of attacks that changed between swift leg slices and even faster antennae jabs.
The concept of juncea, a Human-sized bee-shaped monster, who somehow came to acquire the knowledge of honorable combat, was rapidly attacking the silver shield like a cat would a scratching post.
All the while, the silver Koena forced himself to continue chanting. But even as he spoke the words of power, his mind waned for a moment, and he lost his concentration. Once that happened, he had no choice but to try again. For a beginner like Silverado, chanting and blocking were incredibly difficult to do concurrently. He was being pushed back by the monster, and he was in danger of stepping out.
Dammit!
The pain from his shoulder was no longer dulled, and a burning sensation began to flood his wound. His arm was slowed by a fraction of a second, but he was already having problems keeping up with his opponent's attacks.
Why?! Why can’t I do it?!
A moment later, another mistake. This time, the juncea spread its legs out wide and turned them inward. Like a scissor closing up, Silverado was about to be cut from both sides. His shield didn’t have a curve, so he couldn’t use it to save himself. If he used his club to stop the attack, it’d probably be destroyed. The wood used to make his weapon wasn’t that tough or durable, a mistake that proved to be almost fatal. He could, however, use his shield to block one attack, but it meant that his other side would be vulnerable. If he used his arm, there was a chance for it to be chopped off.
I'm going to be the only one who failed, aren't I? Shit.....
With his mind kicking into overdrive, he realized that there was one option left.
He had to forfeit.
The way forward, left, and right was no good. He had only one way to get out of here alive, and he decided to take advantage of it. Putting all of his strength into one final jump, he leaped backwards. Still, he wasn’t quick enough. Both of the enclosing legs ended up carving off two scales from each side.
“GAAH!!!” screamed Silverado. He couldn’t suppress the pain. The juncea went to finish him off but immediately stopped.
The silver Koena was almost entirely inside the ring, but his head was just slightly over the perimeter.
He had lost. More importantly, he had survived.
Upon securing the first victory for its kind, the juncea Silverado lost against clacked its antennae and legs together in a display of happiness.
“Silver?!!” Desperado screamed his friend's name. He went to get up, but Fisher stopped that.
“Don’t worry, he won’t die. It’s just a few cuts," Fisher said while standing up. As he made his way to his fallen student, he saw the winner take a victory lap around the ring, kicking up dust and rocks with its furious wings.
Fisher crouched down and held both hands to Silverado's exposed chest. Even though he wore metal armor, there were gaps. Mainly, there were openings on both shoulders and both sides. Even though they were tiny and small, they were still taken advantage of. Before the juncea left the arena, it flew over to the five scales that littered the ground and shattered them with five quick thrusts of its stinger.
Fisher chanted the skill for Remedium Lux, an upgraded form of Remedium, and the wounds partially disappeared. The scales didn’t grow back, that would take some time, but the pain vanished.
The Koena opened his eyes and saw Fisher's hand stretched out.
“You did well,” that was all he said. His brown eyes stared down with a feeling towards a Demi he had yet to experience. He was proud of what his student had accomplished.
Silverado bared his teeth before sighing.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, hesitating for a few seconds before grabbing the outstretched hand. His mentor gave him a soft smile as he helped Silverado up.
“Don’t apologize,” Fisher replied, backing up a few steps. He wanted to make sure that Silverado could walk by himself. The Koena could, but it was with a little bit of a limp, and Silverado clutched his sides. But it was manageable, and he walked back to the group with his mentor.
Desperado stood up, helping his friend sit down when they got closer.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?!” he asked. Taking a deep breath, he looked at his friend’s shoulder. The area below the scale was exposed, and Servi got a good look at it. It was red and lightly pulsed. A bit of crimson blood dripped down, covering his silver scales.
So are the scales a form of armor? Then why is it pulsing underneath?
“Desperado, it’s fine. My vital organs weren’t there. My heart is with my lungs in my stomach. All of my other organs are safe and sound,” he replied.
Wait?! Is his heart in his stomach? What the fuck?! Servi realized that Koena were different from other humanoids, but she never expected them to have moving organs.
Servi took a chance to speak. “Then what was hit?”
“My one of my spleens. Oddly enough, all three of my spleens were in the places that got attacked,” Silverado answered. “It hurts, but I’m in no danger of dying. I just have to be careful with what I drink.”
THREE SPLEENS?! Aren’t we supposed to have one only? Wait, why do I know that? Gods above, I’m even more confused.
"Why didn't you use Pulm--"
"You know I hate that. Remember what happened to me when we were little?" Silverado replied with an edge in his voice that could slice through diamonds, cutting off his childhood friend as he was about to ask something.
Pulm? What was he going to say? Before Servi had a chance to ask, their mentor spoke.
“Remember what I said? Rank 10 skills are allowed. So things like Protection, Thunder Snap, and Lucem are available to be used,” Fisher reminded them. He opened up his Dimension Storage, after chanting, and pulled out three small bandages. He handed them to Silverado, who promptly applied them to his three wounds.
“I was trying to use a skill, but I couldn’t block and chant at the same time,” he tied the first one around his shoulder.
“It is hard. But that’s why you need to use your Protection and other protective skills before you fight. Obviously, you won’t always have that chance. But take it when you can," Fisher took the time to give an impromptu lesson.
Suddenly, Silverado erupted into a fit of laughter. “I forgot to use Protection?! God, I’m so pathetic," a small chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to wrap his wounds.
“Oi, don’t say that. If Fisher wouldn’t have said anything, then I would've gone in too without using it,” Desperado said whatever he could to lessen his friend's humiliation.
“Aye, same here,” said Rakkire in support.
“I would’ve forgotten as well,” said the Dwarf’s cousin.
“Look, this is the second-best scenario,” Fisher spoke up. He knew what he was going to say was harsh, but it needed to be said. “If you lose the fight, but come out with the knowledge to learn from that loss, then it’s a win. You now know about the abilities of a juncea, as well as always using Protection when you can.”
Fisher wasn’t done yet. He waited until Silverado had tied the third bandage before continuing. “It might seem hard to believe, but when emotions are running high, adrenaline is pumping through your body, and you have tunnel vision, common sense may not be so common anymore. I know I’m repeating myself, but don’t take the loss personally,” he stared directly at the wounded Koena.
Then why was Servi able to win so easily?! Am I less than a Human woman, the weakest sex of the frailest race?! Even if she did lift Feral's shield, I should be above her!
Silverado thrashed around inside his mind for a while before replying to Fisher. “You’re right. I promise to learn from this.”
At that moment, the three of them who hadn't stepped into the ring used Protection.
“Good. Now, who’s next?”