"So, you have a 3 out of 10 success rate?" Marquis Anabald said, looking at me sitting on the floor. Her tone was sharp but not mocking, more like a teacher trying to figure out how much of a mess her student was. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light of the training hall, and even though I wasn't intimidated, I still felt like I was under a magnifying glass.
"Yes," I admitted without hesitation. I crossed my legs and leaned back against the wall, letting my breath calm. My shoulders were a little sore, not from the crafting, but from all the strain of testing and sparring earlier. Sweat dripped down the side of my face, and I wiped it off with my sleeve.
"Can you save these three, or do they only hold that long?" Ann asked, her gaze fixed on the swords still faintly humming with leftover mana. She didn't approach immediately; she just studied them from afar like she could judge every flaw by sight alone.
"No, they can be saved," I replied. To prove it, I put them into my storage for a moment. The blades flickered out of existence with a soft snap. Then, with another thought, I pulled them back out, the three demigod swords appearing in my hands again. Their weight was solid, their edges still shining as if newly forged. "See?"
"Hmm," she mused, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Let me guess. Is their durability as good as real demi-god swords?" Her words were phrased like a question, but her voice carried certainty, like she already knew the answer.
"Well, probably," I said, lifting one blade to the light and giving it a twirl, "but their power is the same." I countered her tone with a grin, one I knew would annoy her just a little. Confidence was everything in these little games.
"You know weapons don't have their powers, right?" "Ann," he said, finally stepping closer. The soft thud of her boots echoed against the stone floor, and she stopped just short of me, eyes narrowing like she was testing how much I really knew.
"Yes, it depends on what I do with it," I muttered. My ears twitched slightly with irritation. It was the kind of statement that every beginner weapon user got drilled into them on day one. For her to throw it at me felt insulting, like she thought I was a child. I gripped the sword tighter, feeling annoyed but concealing it with a shrug.
"Didn't Steve tell you?" Ann pressed her lips together, tilting her head as strands of dark hair fell over her shoulder.
"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Weapons have three things that matter," she explained slowly, holding up her fingers one by one. "The three important factors are durability, sharpness, and their effectiveness when mana is fused into them." Her tone carried authority, like a lecture she'd given a hundred times. "That's it. Everything else is just flair."
I blinked, thought it over, then nodded. "Ah, that makes sense." A grin spread across my face again, because it confirmed what I'd suspected deep down. "Alright, my swords are way better but less durable." I said it with a big-ass grin, practically baring my teeth.
"Well, it will be better when you use it," Marquis Anabald admitted, crouching down. She reached out and, without hesitation, picked up one of the weapons. The sword almost seemed to respond to her touch, the surface of the blade faintly vibrating.
"Umm, are you going to try infusing mana into it?" I asked quickly, eyes darting between her and my sword. I wasn't exactly nervous, but I felt a strange twist in my gut as I watched her handle something that I had created with my own power.
"Yes," she said simply. Then she smiled faintly, not unkindly. "Now come, let's spar." Her mana surged, a chill filling the room as she effortlessly fused her energy into the blade. The sword gleamed with a crystalline sheen, ice crackling along the edges. She did it so naturally that I almost hated her for it.
"Is it hard?" I asked, trying to sound casual. The truth was, I'd nearly pulled a muscle the first time I tried doing that with one of my creations.
"Not really," she said with a flick of her wrist, the sword humming with life. "But this sort of thing was never hard for me." She let her words drip with confidence, almost a brag.
"Are you bragging?" I grumbled, frowning at her smugness.
"So what if I am?" Ann said with a grin that matched mine earlier. She clearly enjoyed turning it back on me.
"Well, it doesn't matter to me. "Okay, let's go," I said, shaking my head. I grabbed the other two swords, dropped into stance, and without wasting a second, I infused one with fire and the other with lightning, the elements sparking and crackling. Then I charged at her.
"Don't do reckless things," Marquis Anabald said calmly, swinging her sword sideways in a motion so smooth it almost looked lazy.
"Don't worry. I am not naive," I shot back, teleporting a step behind her and swinging both blades at once.
"You are like Stacy," Marquis Anabald mused, her body twisting away from my strike as though she'd predicted it before I even moved.
"Well, she is my master," I said, smirking even as my attack missed. The thought made me proud, even if it wasn't helping me land a blow.
"Hmm, one thing, though." She raised her sword, ice glinting. "Don't infuse your swords. We are only sparring and testing them out." Her gaze fixed firmly on mine. Even though she was still holding the blade full of mana.
"But you?" I started to complain, then noticed her sword had gone dull. She'd already stopped infusing it. "Oh." My ears twitched in embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't notice you stopped." I quickly pulled back my mana as well.
"It's fine. I decided we should change just now. However," she giggled lightly, smiling like this was all some fun lesson, "always observe your opponent."
"I do, though," I said with a raised eyebrow. I was observant. Wasn't I?
"Did you see how I dodged you?" she asked, tilting her head.
"You moved to the left," I said, frowning. It was obvious, wasn't it?
"Did I? Or did I jump to the left?" she countered, her lips curving into that irritating smile.
"Why would you?" I muttered, replaying the moment in my head. Then I remembered that strange flash—her height had shifted for an instant. "Why the fuck did you jump?" I asked, staring at her like she'd grown two heads.
"Observe, okay," she said firmly. "You have a good memory, but it doesn't help you in a new fight."
"Hmm. Observe, alright." I muttered, relaxing my stance again, and in my head I added, "I have good eyes as well."
"Okay, let's go again," she said.
[10 minutes later]
"How the fuck do you do that?" I yelled in frustration, sweat dripping down my neck. My chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. I hadn't landed a single solid hit. "You have perfect control over your body even though you jump around like a frog."
"Hey! Don't call my movement technique "moving like a frog"! she snapped, glaring daggers at me, her cheeks slightly pink with irritation.
"I'm sorry, but the closest thing I can think of that moves so weirdly is a frog," I said, shrugging helplessly. Her jumps weren't bad—they were infuriatingly effective—but still weird as hell.
"Tsk," she clicked her tongue, annoyed. "No one likes my movement technique. Even my daughter thinks it is dumb."
"Well, that's understandable," I said with a chuckle. "Many people don't have your flexibility and control over mana." I meant it as a compliment, though she scowled.
"Oh, do you want to learn it?" she asked suddenly, her tone sly.
"No, thank you," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I like trickery and illusions to be my main thing. So being a common movement technique helps put their guard down against me." I shrugged, though in the back of my mind I considered if I could adapt parts of her style. It would be hard, but maybe…
"Right, you're a fox," she said sarcastically, clearly unimpressed.
"Yeah, so jumping around isn't my style," I replied with a grin.
"Alright then, get up. Let's go on." She sighed, gesturing for me to start again.
"Okay, let me just clean up a bit," I said, raising my hand to smooth the floor.
"Hey, don't make the floor out of ice," she warned, her eyes narrowing.
"Why not?" I asked innocently, tilting my head.
"Do I need to answer that?" she said flatly.
"No, I just wanted a small advantage, okay?" I admitted with a shrug. I'd been planning to clear some blood and rocks, but leaving the terrain broken worked in my favor.
"Now that you tried it, all I was thinking was, do you ever slip on ice? Or more specifically, can you slip on ice or water at all?
"Nope," I said proudly. "It's not possible anymore. Anything that contains liquid cannot make me slip. I grinned at her baffled look.
"So, you broke your ice down to liquid manipulation?" I asked, almost flabbergasted.
"Yes, same for air, but it's sadly not strong," I admitted, shrugging.
"Hmm, and your other skills?" she pressed.
"Well, the fire can't go down any further. The same goes for lightning," I explained with another shrug.
"Yes, but you store stuff and teleport around?" she asked, raising an eyebrow now.
"Space manipulation?" I said slowly, tilting my head. The idea hadn't really clicked until she spelled it out.
"Yes, you should be able to get it out of those two skills," she explained.
"I guess I never thought about it," I admitted.
"Well, whatever. Think about that later. Now attack me."
"Alright," I said with a grin. I took the other two swords, slashing both down as I sent an arc of fire at her.
"Good move, but easily dodged or destroyed," she said, casually swiping her sword to erase the fire arc.
"Cool to know," I said from behind her, swinging both blades in a downward strike.
"You're good at using your teleportation, but you use it very predictably."
"Hmm, is that what you think?" I hummed with a grin.
"Wow, that was close," Marquis Anabald said, her hand snapping up to block, just barely missing three thin needles that appeared from thin air aimed at her wrist.
"I know multiple ways to use it," I said, lowering my blades. "But all of them are more deadly and not something you do in a spar where you are trying to figure out how your swords work."
"Fair point. Sorry."
"No worries, but thank you for trying to help me."
"I did help you," she said matter-of-factly.
"Yes, I didn't know you could split up any skill into its basic form."
"My pleasure," she said with a smile.
Boom!
We both froze. I looked down at the handle of my right sword; the blade was shattered and smoking. "It exploded?" I muttered, confused.
"Now, why did that happen?" Ann asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Hmm, I tried to put fire and lightning into it, and it exploded," I admitted sheepishly.
"Weird. Did you maybe overload it?"
"Nah, it has shitty durability. That's probably the case," I said, shrugging.
"Hmm, might be the grade of it," she suggested.
"Ah, right. All my elements are race-related," I said, scratching the back of my head. "Hmm, I will have to do some more tests, huh."
"Yeah. Now come test your things out. We have a week," she reminded me.
"Heh, you're right," I said, grinning again. I grabbed my remaining weapons and charged back at her.
[The day of opening]
[Unknown POV]
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." Welcome to the tournament of the year—something we all have been waiting for," Kayda said over the mic to the entire stadium. Her voice boomed, amplified across the massive arena packed with people.
"Boo!! Do a better job!" someone yelled from the stands.
"That fucking fox," Kayda muttered under her breath, shoving the mic into my hand.
'Guess she knows the red-haired fox,' I thought, clearing my throat as the crowd buzzed with excitement.
"Alright, ladies! And gentlemen!" I shouted into the mic, drawing the crowd's attention instantly. "Today, we have another battle royal on for all your entertainment!"
"Yeah!!! Let's go!" one girl yelled, louder than the thousands already cheering. Her voice carried above them all like a thunderclap.
"Kitsuna!!!" Shut up." another voice yelled back from the stands, making the crowd laugh.
"…" Kitsuna didn't reply, but her tail was likely swishing smugly somewhere among the crowd.
"Alright then," I continued, grinning at the chaos. "It's time to explain how the tournament will work. The first round will consist of four battle royals. Don't ask me how many are in one because I don't know, although I do know that there will only be eight winners."
'And the crowd goes wild,' the commentator whispered into his mic, watching the audience erupt in cheers and stomping. His eyes flicked toward the row where Kitsuna sat, noting her silence now. 'I guess the girl isn't going to say anything.'
"With the boring stuff over," I roared, raising my arm to the sky, "let's start this tournament."
The crowd exploded, the stadium trembling with their excitement, the roar of thousands marking the beginning of chaos.