Chapter 161: Low Blow

Chapter 161: Low Blow

Zane Low closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. He pictured in his mind's eye the courtyard before him, the fifty wooden training dummies, their limbs bobbing slightly in the wind. He exhaled, and every dummy was beheaded at once. The resulting sound was like a dozen coconut trees all giving up at the same time, their life's work clattering to the ground and rolling around.

The second Blade opened his eyes and sheathed his sword, running a hand through his messy crop of white hair. He struck a dramatic pose, then bowed to his audience of headless training dummies. Their heads were already beginning to regrow, that enchantment had been more than worth the price he had paid.

Two sets of footsteps came from behind him, so Zane whirled, covering one eye with his fingers and gasping. “Y-you! You saw it, didn’t you?”

Both approaching figures stopped, glancing around the courtyard, more than a little confused.

“You saw it!” He accused. “My true power! A secret technique passed down over hundreds of years, only to fall into my waiting lap!”

“What are you talking about, Zane?” A serious looking Daniela Low asked, frowning at him.

“Good answer.” Zane said, nodding slowly, his eyes suspicious slits.

“Is he always like this?” Kastro said, the gloomy looking man a step behind his equally grey haired relative.

“I confess, it is true.” Zane said solemnly. “I am always perfect. It is a burden I have carried, and will carry for the rest of my life.”

“Put a shirt on, Zane. We need to have a serious conversation.” Daniela said, crossing her arms.

“There is no need to be so serious! Come now, sister, we’re all family here!”

She sniffed. “We are not siblings.”

“Cousin! What’s the difference? We’re all Low’s, who cares about specifics?”

“Your attitude is the problem. This is why the Jursa branch tried to have you assassinated, Zane.”

“They did?” Both Zane and Kastro exclaimed at the same time. Though Kastro sounded alarmed, while Zane sounded confused.

Daniela sighed. “Yes, they did.”

“When?” The swordsman asked, leaning forward. “I think I would remember my own assassination!”

“During that party in Hilace.”

Zane frowned, then his expression brightened. “The masked clowns! I thought those were entertainers.”

“You live an interesting life, cousin.” Kastro said hesitantly.

“Nonsense, I’m quite boring. And call me brother.”

“We’re not siblings.”

Zane staggered back as if struck. Daniela cleared her throat, but he held up a hand and closed his eyes. A moment later his sword was drawn, and the regrown heads of the training dummies once again fell to the ground. The second Blade sheathed his sword, then struck another pose.

Kastro clapped awkwardly, while Daniela just glared at him. Zane sighed. “Fine, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“We should go somewhere private first.” The seventh Blade said.

“This is my personal training courtyard, nobody can just walk in here.” He replied confidently. His cousins glanced at one another. “Oh, right. Okay, sure, let's go.” He turned and marched towards the nearby shed. A minute later the three of them were crowded into the small room and the door had been locked behind them.

His relatives looked uncomfortable, but why a room full of almost person shaped dummies would unnerve someone recognised by the Crucible, or someone who took walks on the seafloor for fun was beyond Zane. He slung an arm around the nearest dummy’s shoulders, its face, a smooth wooden oval had a smiling expression painted on it. He had done it himself.

A group of second years off to the left tried to restart the first chant in the small gap between the announcers introduction. Someone from a few rows higher shot a jet of water at them.

“Both combatants are famous, or perhaps infamous for their unique paths! One utilises a type of magic never before seen in the world, the other having levelled a single class all the way to one hundred! The fourth Blade, a man who goes by the pseudonym of ‘Crest’ may not have any combat oriented classes, but there isn’t a person alive who would deny his power! The second Blade, Zane Low, is a renowned swordmaster who’s very presence makes the enemies of humanity quake in fear! Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and welcome our combatants!”

The crowd did so, though with added cheering and hollering. Two figures stepped out from openings on opposite sides of the arena. Leif used the perception-altering effect of the protective shield around the arena’s sands to take a look at both men. The second Blade, Zane, was a tall and lean man with stark white hair tied back in a bun. He looked younger than his position of seniority would imply, and he wore the overcoat of the Blade uniform wrapped around his waist, its long sleeves tied into a ribbon. A straight sword was at his hip, and his expression was completely serious. He gave off the impression of a warrior who had dedicated every hour of his life to mastering both himself, and the sword.

The fourth Blade looked unremarkable by comparison. He was short and wiry, and his slightly hunched posture gave him a scholarly air, as if he spent more time bent over a desk researching than on the battlefield. His uniform was several sizes too big, and his lower face was covered in a week's old stubble. Both of his hands were clutching the pendant that hung around his neck, the brass chain gleaming under the afternoon sun.

“Any bets on who will win?” Leif asked.

“Crest.” Marcus replied instantly.

Sieg snorted. “Zane, and it won’t be close.”

Marcus jokingly punched his roommate in the side, and Sieg stoically ignored him. The announcer began the countdown, the crowd joining in moments later. Neither Blade reacted to the imminent beginning to their duel, both stood relaxed and unworried on opposite sides of the sandy field.

“Begin!”

Crest took a single step back, a dark blue crystal appearing in his hand. The sand where he had been standing a moment before was split, a perfectly straight gash appearing in the ground. Leif quickly turned his attention to Zane, but the second Blade hadn’t moved, his sword was still sheathed.

Rainbow power rippled around the fourth Blade as he raised his gemstone, the crowd held its breath as energy rapidly built. Then prismatic light thundered across the arena, turning the sand to glass as it blasted forward like a river. The protective shield rippled, the vision altering enchantment flickering out briefly as the attack raced to cross the distance between both Blades.

Leif expected Zane to draw his sword and cut through the assault of prismatic energy, but the swordsman did no such thing. Instead his form blurred as he stepped to the side, a smirk briefly appearing on his lips, though it faded just as quickly. The rainbow beam crashed against the far wall of the arena, power splashing up like a wave impacting a cliff. The barrier flickered again, this time becoming awash with multicoloured light.

Then, just as Leif was trying to see through the disturbance, his system information briefly flickered to life before his eyes. Everyone in the crowd recalled as if struck, cries of alarm and confusion coming from hundreds of people at once. Then the phenomena faded, and the vision altering effect of the shield returned to normal.

“Umm.” Marcus said, blinking his eyes rapidly. “Did anyone else just see their own status sheet?”

“I think so.” Sieg said, equally baffled.

Leif replayed the moment using [Sympathy From Experience]. The vision repeated itself before his eyes, though backwards. Sure enough, a distorted and stretched image of his status sheet appeared for half a second, then vanished.

What in the hells was that? He thought, alarmed. Just what power was Crest using? Was he tapping into the system itself? How? Leif focused back onto the man, as did most people in the arena. He saw a zoomed in image of the man’s blank, almost bored expression, then the field of view zoomed out and he got a look at his full body. The crystal was still in his hand, though it was now radiating the same rainbow energy as the attack. But it wasn’t just a crystal. Leif recognised it alongside dozens of others at the exact same time. It was a promotion item, larger and more intricate than the Seal Leif had used to promote his [Brawler] and healer classes, so it was likely an Emblem, or something of a higher grade.

“Crest.” Leif said numbly, still staring at the man who went by the same name.

“Holy shit.” Marcus breathed.

The air rippled before the fourth Blade, then Zane appeared, an inch of his sword having been drawn from its sheath. Crest looked surprised for a brief instant, then the swordsman kicked him between the legs. Crest crumpled to the sandy ground with a soul rending gasp. He didn’t get back up.

You have displayed excellence above your ability!

For witnessing a display of significant authority that touches on the system itself you have gained the following!

+1 free point!

Everyone in the crowd started murmuring again, over a thousand pairs of eyes going unfocused simultaneously.

“Am I dreaming?” Sieg asked. “Did what I just witnessed actually happen?”

“Good question.” Leif said.