In the pit, more fighters went down. Roughly eighteen fighters stood, fighting to secure a spot. Shiny boy, was embroiled in a defensive duel between a human warrior with a large, bulbous stick. His shield did an admiral job at blocking the attacks but the man's skill was strange.

Every hit caused the tumor atop the wooden staff to grow in size, and shift away from the chestnut-colored wood toward a sickly yellow. The warrior swept in a diagonal line across Vincent's shield. It pushed him back, forcing him against a wall. As the warrior pulled back, chunks of wooden shrapnel trailed his weapon, and he raised it high revealing a pulsating, fleshy mass underneath.

"Sorry kid," the warrior said.

Vincent turtled behind his shield and the mana rushed into his arm. Wood crashed into metal and the fleshy tumor exploded. Writhing tendrils of blackened rot spread across a grey barrier expanding over and around the metal.

It reminded me of a ribbon worm. Six tendrils overwhelmed Vincent, covering his form as more of the mass left the staff behind and splattered across the barrier. Where it found an edge, it flattened and stretched thin while the central mass constricted.

Unfortunately for the warrior who was already starting to turn around and seek a new opponent, the mass vibrated then exploded back toward its user. Pieces of its flesh gave way, forcing the warrior into a surprised stumble. Before he could steady himself, a grey-edged blade pierced his side and carved upward, stopping at the ribcage.

Vincent slammed his plated boot against the man's chest and shoved him away, taking his sword with him in a spurt of blood.

The warrior dropped to the stone and his bracelet changed colors while a thick green vine erupted from the ground and wrapped itself around his stomach.

"Interesting. It seems that the kid is truly of a pure mana build. And I think I know the skills those two used," Celenea said.

"You think he's like Isaac? Deviated away from the family bloodline?" Sereza asked.

"There's no one like me!" Isaac snapped.

Igas patted his shoulder, his expression serious. "We know."

Before the two could get into another bout of banter and play-wrestling, Celenae motioned toward Vincent taking a moment to steady himself while watching the battlefield.

"Actually, no. Isaac truly is special," she teased. While he threw her a fierce scowl she shook her head. "From what I understand, the Valentius were actually a family known for their poor elemental affinities. The grand matriarch changed that after being rewarded a legacy from a rift. I suspect Vincent is simply reverting back to the family's normal affinities outside of the legacy's influence."

"I thought legacy's change your body physically. Even if his parents were not legacy holders, the bloodline should have kept the affinity toward fire for the next several generations. Is that not the case?" Sereza asked.

"It's speculative. Unfortunately there isn't enough information regarding legacies even with the noble houses. We do know that it alters more than the physical body but the soul as well, it's why the mark is a branding rather than it is a simple tattoo."

"I'll ask Cal sometime. But that's for later. You said you think you know the skills they used?" I said.

"Mmm. Vincent's skill resembles Force Rejection, mainly used as a defensive skill to nullify kinetic force, but it shares the ability to redirect it outwardly as it builds charge. As for the staff user, it's a skill called Blighted Bloom. It's not common, but there used to be a cult that held a monopoly over a dungeon and distributed the skill to their followers."

"So he's a cult member?"

"No, the kingdom wouldn't have allowed it to exist," Teddy interrupted. "From what I remember of my history classes, the cult of Churshragorth was dismantled more than two hundred years ago. However, rather than ban the skills associated with it, the king at the time turned it into another skill to be used and ran subtle propaganda campaigns toward it as well as other skills in order to remove their influence. Now it's simply an odd skillstone that someone with the affinity can use if they desire."

"And Churshragorth? What happened to them?"

"Tier four demigod on the cusp of ascension. Only speculations exist, but it's believed that Aurelion waited till the moment of his ascension and then removed him. Whether that's true or not, nobody knows."

That was intriguing. My gut reaction would have been to destroy and remove the skillstones entirely. Whacky cults were dangerous. Gods like the one Ysanna faced seemed all sorts of monstrous and unforgivable. Maybe I was biased, but creepy flesh tumors didn't give one the best image.

Meh. No skin off my teeth.

Casually observing the battlefield, it was easy to see who the contenders were. Some dominated their side and merely waited by themselves content to watch the rest fight. There were people who took the subtle route, like a rogue with a fire affinity, calmly holding his own against a much larger beastkin. Notably an elf with a dual affinity for nature and ice demonstrated that to the extreme by creating a field of area control in front of him.

He definitely would have made it to the end round, if it wasn't for the burly orucan tossed in his direction.

Zog soared across the pit with his fist raised, trailing a wave of fire against another fighter's wooden shield. The spike brambles hanging off its edge chased after him and the elf responded by summoning a man-sized willow tree. His second skill conjured arm-length ice blades that swiped toward Zog in an attempt to cut him down.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I winced as Zog backflipped off a blade and smashed his flame-jet empowered knee into the man's face, forcing him to the ground. In the same beat, he landed on his feet and kicked the elf into the air before spinning him into his own creation.

Flesh met sharpened tree branch and found itself lacking. Instantly, the bracelet changed color and a vine sprouted from the ground to pull the elf off his own skill.

He's…

"Crazy stalker aside, he's good," Igas commented. "I knew orucans enjoyed a martial culture but his movement is fluid. He's combat tested. Against humanoids."

Eodyne cocked her head and observed the orucan rush toward another combatant. "He has to have a flexibility passive. His muscles are too large for him to bend that easily."

"Strength too. He bent that one guy's shield like it was nothing."

"He's decent," Isaac huffed. "He wouldn't have survived the pit if he wasn't."

Before I could chime in, Shiny Boy drew my interest. In the time between facing the dude with the cult skill and Zog impaling a man, another fighter managed to sneak behind him and attempt an ambush. Judging from how Vincent's arm hung limply at his side with his shield abandoned at his feet, the rogue managed a decent attack.

His sword came between them, slicing into the woman's side as she blocked with her daggers. It left barely more than a red line against her hip. She ducked the second swing and slashed upward.

When it reached his side, grey mana surrounded Vincent's feet and he suddenly jerked to the right, avoiding the strike. To his credit, he snapped a kick into her elbow, managing to force her hand to release the blade.

She jumped back but a wave of mana launched in her direction. The rogue flipped, avoiding the attack as she flicked her wrist sending three needles into Vincent's foot. The dull metal spikes penetrated his armor, pinning him to the ground.

Not wasting the opportunity, she rushed in, flicking more than Vincent managed to deflect with his blade. He sent another slash toward her, forcing her to duck and roll. He stabbed down, but again she dodged his attempt before launching to her feet and swinging her dagger wide.

Vincent's blade was out of position. Mana surged around him, but he had no shield to deflect.

The rogue's blade veered toward his neck, surrounded by greenish mana. The air hummed around the metal. When it reached his gorget, the green sharpened as the blade began to carve into the material.

Suddenly, Vincent's body slid forward. She wasn't expecting the movement, and was ill prepared for his fist hammering into her gut. Vincent grabbed her shoulder, attempting to wrangle her to the ground. She resisted and forced her knee into his hip.

He stumbled, and she capitalized by shoving her blade through his side. It punctured through creating a dime-sized hole.

That's his kidney. If he doesn't go down soon, he will be.

Her grip shifted, and she yanked it free. Hooking her leg around his, she leaned closer, pulling him down with her arm arcing behind his back.

And game.

Except, Vincent moved again, this time backward, with the rogue's leg still hooked around his. The two tumbled, rolling through a strip of muddied sand and blood-soaked snow. Vincent slammed into his back with his his leg straight. He launched the woman away. She rolled to a stop against an abandoned stone wall, crashing into what remained and collapsing it atop her.,

"His form is sloppy but he has a good instinct for fighting," Teddy said. "I'm surprised. His house is known for casters, not fighters."

Sereza nudged me with her elbow. "Not so weak, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, pushing her away. "He's tenacious. I'll give him that. I didn't think he had it in him to activate his movement skill while pinned. You think he has a regeneration passive?"

"Most likely, but it's not going to save him. Her skill must have shredded his insides, look how much blood is spilling out."

She gestured to the ground below Vincent. His blood spilled from the wound in his side and turned the muddy ground a dark red.

Vincent slapped his hand over the injury, plugging the hole ineffectively. Blood continued to gush between his fingers and coat his hand red. He grunted in pain and leaned forward, forcing himself to stand on shaky legs. Sweat beaded across his front, his face dripping and pale.

From underneath the crumbled wall, the rogue slid a large piece off her legs and attempted to stand. She managed, but barely. Her legs shook and she favored her left. Still, she raised her dagger.

The two shared a look, their eyes meeting. Exhaustion clung to their faces, both having gone paler. The woman wore a hood covering her body, along with a face mask but a large gash rendered it ineffective, tearing through the hood and revealing drenched red hair.

Her lips pressed thin, and mana surged into her arm. The air around her blade distorted as it started to vibrate. Vincent winced but he lifted his sword up and held it between them.

"Last strike," Teddy declared. "She's shivering, as is he. Either she lands this attack and takes him out before mana shock, or he avoids it and secures a finishing blow before he collapses to blood loss."

"Five on the rogue," Isaac shouted.

"Three on Vincent," Igas snorted.

"I'll side with the boy," Eodyne shrugged.

Sereza huffed and shook her head. "You people are terrible."

"Oh yeah? So no betting then?" Isaac teased.

"Oh of course I am. Ten on the woman."

"That's what I thought."

I rolled my eyes at the banter and examined the mana surrounding the both of them. Vincent's was barely a whisper. What little he displayed wisped around his feet, failing to secure itself past his ankle. If I had to guess, he was betting on dodging her attack, doing what Teddy predicted.

As for the woman, her blade contained all that she had left. Mana fatigue was evident, her fingers shook nearly as bad as her weapon.

The two breathed in and then out. On the second inhale, she charged.

No fancy tricks, no lithe movements. Her legs pushed her forward and Vincent held, blade ready. The distance between them disappeared, and she ducked. Her good leg slammed forward. She pivoted, moving underneath Vincent's sword.

Her dagger approached.

Vincent growled. He activated his skill, sliding to the right, out of the attack. His legs cut through the sand. He brought his blade closer and…

He winced, stumbling.

Her attack changed directions. She tackled headfirst into his side, catching Vincent as his skill sputtered out. His eyes widened, blood erupting from his mouth. She looked away and stabbed downward.

Blade met metal and-

"And we have our winners! Before you stand the ten fighters moving on to the final bracket! A round of applause for these potential champions!" the announcer roared.

"Oh come on!" Isaac yelled.

Vincent blinked at the blade hovering above his chest. Pieces of his once immaculate armor curled as shreddings along the quarter-sized hole exposing the thick padded clothes underneath. His bracelet flashed green, as did the rogue's.

His eyes darted downward into the exasperated woman. She slammed her fist against his chest and then collapsed. Her body went limp and a large golden ring of light surrounded the both of them.

"That's a load of dragonshit! She was about to win!" Isaac continued to complain.

And yet, she didn't. My eyes scanned the field and I saw Zog stand victorious over a muscular bearkin. His boot hovered above the man's chest with his fist raised. The audience near him jumped up and down, cheering the champion. Beside him, two more fighters were crumpled into heaps, clutching their faces sporting blood noses and scorched bodies.

I sat back and digested the image of Zog standing there posed amongst the groaning men. A chuckle escaped and I licked my lips.

"Are you getting excited to fight him?" Sereza whispered.

I grinned. "Maybe."

And I know the perfect familiar to use on him… Hah. Maybe I do want to fight you Zog. Maybe.

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