Chapter 40: Sparring

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Will thought, staring down the massive brute that had challenged him to a fight to prove his worthiness.

Will wasn’t buying that crap. He was fairly certain the guy just liked fighting.

Will didn’t plan on wearing platforms and a goat mask forever, regardless of how awesome it was to be able to fly on command.

Roger Oilton was slightly better than him in every stat save Strength, which he had twice as much as Will.

This was including stat bonuses from Relics.

With no gear on, Will didn’t even stand a chance.

“You ready?” Roger Oilton asked, rubbing the dirt of the courtyard between his hands like chalk. The tittering young women who had been playing tag earlier were now assembled around them, watching in fascination as their big brother was about to lay down some newbie punk.

The words ‘level twelve’ and ‘doomed’ were being bandied about.

“I’m not sure why this is a one-on-one, isn’t this supposed to be a test of our Party?” Will asked.

“A Party is only as strong as it’s leader, William Oh,” Roger said. “Plus it’ll give the kobold time to prepare his traps.”

“Nonsense,” Loth lied from where she stood in the circle of spectators. “I wouldn’t miss this.”

Will was absolutely sure her insects were setting up traps even as he spoke.

“So. Are you ready?”

Will sighed. “Sur-“

Roger launched forward at a speed that defied his sheer bulk.

Will started running.

He broke through the circle of onlookers and sprinted straight for the mansion, his speed barely keeping even with Roger’s thanks to his Relics.

Will grabbed a tiny crack in the paint and hauled himself up to the overhang, kicking off a pane of glass before flipping up and over, onto the roof.

Will thought as he ran along the tiles.

Roger landed on the tiles in front of him, forcing Will to skid to a halt.

The sloped roof turned into ice and Roger’s feet flew out from underneath him.

The Rustic Brawler’s eyes went wide for a moment before his arm flickered down and stabbed his fingers into the ice, regaining his stability long enough to yank his boots off with his other hand.

The Rustic Brawler’s gross toenails bit down into the ice and secured his footing, and the chase was back on.

Will did gain some ground with that, though.

He sprinted up onto the frozen chimney, nimbly scaling the sheer ice-surface.

Will thought, leaping up and off the chimney, directing his fall towards the Rusting Brawler, boot first.

Roger grinned, and tensed his legs beneath him, launching himself straight up to meet Will in mid-air, arm cocked for a knock-out punch.

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Will targeted the Phantom Hand floating directly above him.

Roger’s eyes widened as Will began falling up, drawing him out of the Brawler’s reach.

Will Snatched the Clay Idol off his waist and smashed it against his knee.

Because the Miasma outside The Tower was so thin, all he got was an eight-foot-long snake with a malicious awareness to its gaze.

“Distract him,” Will said, throwing the snake down at Roger.

“Gah!” Roger shouted in surprise as the snake bit down into his shoulder and deliberately wrapped its bulk around his face.

A bloom of pain shot through Will’s body as Roger caught a piece of clay midair and threw it Will’s torso.

Will’s hand shook as he retrieved the Potion of Greater Healing and downed it while simultaneously moving the Phantom hand, causing him to fall to the side.

Three more pieces of clay cut the air where he’d just been as Roger threw them, completely blinded by the snake wrapped around his face.

Will thought sourly, pulling out the Potion of Fury and yanking the cap off with his teeth.

Will felt a surge of white-hot strength flood his body as he downed the potion, boosting all of his physical stats by ten and raising the speed of his Charge Ability significantly.

Will slipped the starter back in his pocket along with the others before reorienting on the Rustic Brawler, who had just hit the roof and was tumbling down the slope, nearly out of control, the intelligent snake deliberately foiling any attempt at gaining a foothold.

Will swooped back down towards the edge of the roof, and through some unspoken agreement, the Immortal Serpent oriented Roger so that he was falling head-first.

“Godsdamned snake, You-“ Roger grunted as his calloused fingers tore massive chunks out of the snake which proceeded to heal in a matter of seconds.

Will straightened his body like a javelin. The Immortal serpent moved out of the way the instant before he hit the Brawler in the jaw with his feet, just as aforementioned jaw was completely free-floating above the air.

Will rode Roger’s face all the way down into the marble courtyard, cracking the pristine stone outside the mansion as they slammed into it.

A moment later, Amulet of the Homefield Advantage caught up and the floor turned to ice, causing many of the spectators to fall to the ground, flailing.

Loth gave him a thumbs-up among the slipping and sliding onlookers.

Will thought, pulling out his Tomahawk.

“I give up!” Roger shouted, raising a hand, his face a beaming, bloody mess.

Will briefly considered not accepting Roger’s surrender. Not when he’d come that close to accidentally killing him. If one of those chunks of clay had hit the wrong spot…it could’ve been lights-out.

Will’s hand tightened around the handle.

“Well done, Will!” Loth interrupted Will’s murderous thoughts, patting him on the back.

“You’re a slick son of a bitch who doesn’t fight fair and I love it,” Roger said, grinning annoyingly through the blood covering his face.

“You owe me a Potion of Greater Healing,” Will growled as he dismissed Homefield Advantage.

“Oh,” Roger said with false concern as he inspected the holes in Will’s shirt and the puckered wound beneath them. “Oh my. Sorry, you surprised me and it kind of slipped out. I’ll give you three.”

“Also, you’re gonna wanna take those tiles out of you, relax, take it easy and listen to some soothing music…you are doped to the right now.” Roger said, irritatingly peering into Will’s eyes. “When did that happen?”

“After you put a hole through me.”

“May, can you play him something? He’s on some performance enhancing drugs.”

One of the nearby girls nodded and fetched some kind of stupid guitar, strumming relaxing chords beside him that were almost as irritating as they were soothing. Almost.

Will dimly caught up with the beginning of Roger’s sentence and glanced down, spotting a piece of roof tile embedded in his shoulder.

Will thought, trying to reach up and remove it, but it was in his right shoulder, making it awkward. Some of the surrounding spectators shooed him away from the tile, instead plucking it out themselves.

Strangely it didn’t hurt one bit, despite going several inches into his shoulder. It barely even bled.

Will felt like he was thinking through a fog.

“Raise your leg, Mr. Oh.” One of Travis’s young siblings said, a moment before there was a weird scraping sensation as they tugged another roof tile out of his leg.

Again, it didn’t hurt.

The only thing that really hurt was watching them pour expensive healing potions over the wounds without Will using Sourdough to potentially get them back in the future.

He only thought of it moments after they’d already done the deed, his thoughts swimming through syrup.

The eight-foot Immortal Serpent slithered up beside him, staring at him with those malicious eyes.

The serpent seemed to ask.

“Can you get me the Relic fermentation keg?”Will asked, fishing the starter nodules out of his pocket.

The snake glanced down at the nodules then nodded and retrieved the keg from their luggage.

Will leaned over, popped the top off the keg and poked each of the starters into the iridescent Relic dust, spacing them as evenly as he could.

He was pleased to note that the smoke bomb had regained roughly a fourth of its size over the week of travel.

Meanwhile, Roger got a heal from an on-call priest, which restored the state of his jaw and teeth. Then the Brawler took a warm towel and wiped the blood off his face before facing off against Loth.

He spotted Loth watching him poke his starters into the Relic dust like a farmer with his seeds. Will gave the kobold a thumbs-up and a grin through the haze of the Potion of Fury.

“I’m afraid this will be unpleasant for you,” Loth said turning back to Roger. “I hope that the brutalizing that you are about to receive does not color your perception of my character.” S~eaʀᴄh the Nôvel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Bahahaha!” Roger laughed merrily.

“It’s okay, Big Brother, it didn’t set up any traps! We were watching it this entire time.” One of the more foolish youths shouted.

Loth stood with her hands clasped behind her back.

“Whenever you’re ready.” she said.

Roger took one step forward and the paper-thin, insect-hollowed marble crumbled under him, allowing his foot to plummet into the inward facing spikes on a hinge, designed to lock his foot in place.

Roger’s eyes widened a moment before a spider-silk snare whipped out from the surrounding tiles, cleverly concealed in the seams of the marble.

The snare cinched around his head and wrist, then flung him up high, the punji trap tearing away most of Roger’s foot.

Will averted his eyes for the rest of the ‘fight’, but it sounded like a big brawler getting dragged all around the confines of the mansion, the clattering of concealed steel against marble, and lots of bugs boring holes through flesh.

Long story short: Roger’s heart stopped for two minutes, he racked up quite the debt to Andover for a ‘spar’…And he gained an irrational fear of Loth. Which made no sense, because she was a sweetheart.

“Oh my,” Loth said shortly after the spar had been called, leaning over the wide-eyed Brawler as the irritating glow of Andover’s light brought his foot back. “You surprised me, and the traps just…slipped out.”

“She’s mad.” Travis said, nodding, arms crossed. “He made her mad.”

“No shit,” Will said.

“Nobody step on the tiles filled with insects,” Loth said, turning to address the onlookers. “Or you die. I am currently filling most of them back in, but better safe than sorry.”

Will scanned the grounds, finding a dozen or so marble tiles black with swarming insects from the 3rd floor, and nearly fifty young men and women scared to move a single step.

Roger tested his restored foot, forced a strained laugh and gave Loth a wide berth as he approached Travis and Will, carefully testing the ground as he moved.

“Well, Travis,” Roger said, nervously glancing back at Loth. “I can honestly say that you are way out of your league and if anything, you’re not good enough for ”

“So…” Travis said, head cocked.

“So you’ve got our support. I think your Party is gonna go…” He glanced back again, keeping an eye on Loth. “Far. Really, really far.”

They went inside to discuss terms.

The Oilton family’s ‘support’ amounted to:

1: Roger’s guidance through the fourth Floor

2: Thea’s assistance on the fifth Floor.

3: Lots and lots of money. A war chest large enough to fund a small army once it became necessary.

The older Oiltons didn’t have any Climbers around their level that they thought wouldn’t get killed trying to keep up, so they didn’t bother to suggest any blood-related support staff, but they did imply that after the 5th Floor, support staff would become much more necessary.

Thea promised to go up to the 5th floor ahead of them and arrange for some assistance of that nature.

All that was left was for the three of them to actually do the Climb.

The three of them said their goodbyes and headed to a nearby inn.

It caused Will physical pain seeing Travis pay an ivory coin for their room in the fancy inn, but Travis pointed out that they could stay in the lush inn for several years before they even made a dent in the war-chest the Oilton family had provided them.

Then Will tried the bed and all his reservations vanished as he sank into the down mattress.

He was so comfortable, so relaxed, they had such a successful negotiation with Travis’s family…That it made him highly paranoid.

Will thought, eyes popping open.

He scanned the lush room, filled with weird thick fabrics with bright colors and soft rugs that felt heavenly on his bare toes. It was all foreign to him. The luxury that should’ve comforted him instead filled him with unease.

Will grabbed a pillow and climbed under the bed, much more comfortable once he was out of line of sight.