(3 years ago, Earth)
Cameras flashed as Isaac strode past, photographers scrambling to capture the 2 time champion for 4 events.
He had conquered Boxing, Wrestling, Judo, and Taekwondo once more adding 3 more gold medals to his already astounding resume.
Only the fencing event could stop him from completing a full run of all olympic martial arts.
"Issac! Issac! How do you feel about your title of Jack of all trades." A reporter asked.
"It's a pretty cool title, but I'm no Jack. I'm a Master of all trades." Isaac smirked.
"Issac! Issac! How do you feel about your chances of winning the fencing event and completing your grand run!" Another reporter shouted.
"Pretty damn confident." Issac said with a grin.
"Isaac! How do you feel about the other Olympic fencer from Italy who is also 16." A reporter asked.
"Congratulations to him for making it this far — but he shouldn't get his hopes up."
Cameras flashed and reporters kept asking questions but Issac kept moving, he needed to get back to Olympic Village.
At the current moment, Isaac held 13 gold medals, the second highest holder of gold medals and fourth in total medals.
Boxing: (Lightweight(1), Welterweight(1))
Taekwondo: (FeatherWeight(1), MiddleWeight(1))
Judo: (60 kg(1), 66 kg(1))
Wrestling(Freestyle 65 kg(1), Greco-roman 65 kg(1), FreeStyle 74 kg(1), Greco-roman 74 kg(1))
Fencing: (Épée(1), Foil(1), Sabre(1)
As he exited his ride, he saw someone waiting for him beyond the village's gates.
"Famous Jack of all trades, and the arrogant fool. I'm Marco Romano. Remember my name." He smirked before walking off.
"..."
"What a weirdo." Issac thought.
***
A rooster's cry awoke Isaac from his recurring dream once more. Looking outside, he noticed the slight glimmer of the sun peaking above the horizon.
It was time for him to make his way to Airship docks.
On the way, he passed by Uncle Lu's shop as he was beginning to set up.
"Up and early are we." He laughed.
"I don't wanna be late now, do I." Isaac joked.
"You haven't had anything to eat yet have you?"
While making his way to the docks, Isaac munched on the two pork bao's Uncle Lu had given him.
The cool morning breeze lingered in the air, as he reached a familiar job site.
Unlike commercial Airships which were a bit more costly, for a cheap price one could hitch a ride on a cargo Airship.
5 silver was all he had to pay in order to get himself onto the deck of the ship.
As soon as the entirety of the sun rose above the horizon, so did the ship begin to rise into the air.
There was no propulsion, no rockets, or wings. Just a silent take off into the vast sky above.
With nothing but the scenery and his own mind, his thoughts began to wander by that event 3 years ago.
***
(3 years ago, Earth)
The arena fell silent as the two competitors took their positions.
It was the final match for the gold medal in the Saber category. One one side was Isaac the reigning champion.
On the opposing side was the dark horse and challenger Marco.
With a salute to the other than to the referee the two brought down their mask and assumed en garde position.
The ref, acknowledging that both parties were ready, shouted "Pret? Allez!"
Each bout lasted only a few seconds, but it was more pronounced in the Saber category.
Unlike the two other categories, Saber allowed fencers to get a touch from the edge of a weapon and the tip as long as it hit above the waist.
Not only that but Saber favored the aggressors, meaning even if the defending opponent hit first it favored the aggressor if they hit.
First to 15 touches won, and Isaac was determined to show his dominance.
With a flash of footwork he landed the first blow after side stepping his opponents thrust.
To reach the Olympic stage, it required years of hard work and plenty of talent.
For Marco and Isaac, the fact they reached such a stage at their age proved them to be geniuses beyond geniuses.
But even then there were levels to being the top 0.01%. Isaac was simply better. He was faster, more reactive, more precise.
The match ended with the final score of 15-5. It was a dominate victory for the young man. He now possesses 14 gold medals to his record.
While Isaac basked in his victory, Marco grinned quietly, unnoticed.
Some might've assumed he was happy with his silver medal but his grin held a much different meaning.
[Your fencing skill has leveled up to 11!]
[Your fencing skills have surpassed the mortal level!]
[Title acquired: Grandmaster fencer.]
[Title effect: 10% boost to reaction speed.]
[Quest: Win men's Fencing Saber Gold medal 0/1 Fail!]
The next event was foil fencing. Unlike saber, touches were only counted if hit by the tip of the sword on the torso.
Unexpectedly instead of the predicted opponent from France, Isaac's opponent was once again Marco.
Through some realm of magic he had beat someone that even Isaac had to give props to.
When the match started Isaac was able to see the sheer difference in skill between the Marco he had fought in the Saber event.
Though the match ended 15-10 in his favor it was absurd how much he had improved in just a matter of a few hours.
But Isaac still held his head up high, with 15 gold medals to his record he was close to defending his title as reigning champion.
Only the Épée event stood in his way. Just like Foil touches were only given by hits with the tip of the sword.
However there stood one key difference between Épée and the other two. Épée did not favor the aggressor, which meant if you got a touch then got hit yourself both you and your opponent would receive a point.
With the loss of a rule, the key to winning became to hit whilst not getting hit yourself. And unlike Saber which only counted touches up the waist or Foil which only counted the torso, Épée counted any touch.
Foil is art, Saber is theater, but Épée is the truth. There was no debate on who was the aggressor or who was the defender.
There stood only a single truth. Did you get hit?
It was the simplest but yet showed the true values of the fencer. Without the strict rules and restrictions it allows a more raw unfiltered form.
For the third time in the Olympics the two 16 year olds faced each other to see who would win the gold medal.
Marco's skills skyrocketed — but Isaac sharpened in real-time. He had learned from the previous match.
The first bout ended with both fencers scoring a point as despite Issac's attempt to side step failed.
The score reached 2-6 in Marco's favor as a silent pressure began to form above Isaac. It was the first time in ages that someone had gained such a wide gap over him in the beginning.
For the underdog Marco, it was hope. For Isaac, it was fuel.
As the match progressed Issac began to catch up slowly, he began adapting to Marco's enhanced skills.
He grew from every thrust, calculated step, and shallow breath that he took until the score tied at 10-10.
While Isaac's comeback was starting, Marco was beginning to panic from Isaac's rapid growth.
Unlike Isaac's natural talent, he relied on his system to improve his way through the art of fencing.
Even with his title effects, skills, and items he wasn't able to outmatch the reigning king.
With the score leading in Isaac's favor, he began to grow desperate in his actions.
A notification rang in his mind which alerted him to something deadly.
[System notification: Should the host not win a gold medal the System will forfeit the host's Life.]
A buzz echoed in the empty area as Issac hit the dazed Marco. The score was 14-12, one point away from his death.
Marco was drenched in a cold sweat. He was on the edge of a cliff and if he didn't claw his way back he'd die a failure.
[Emergency: The host is embarrassing the system in a global competition. Will the host accept losing 2 years of his lifespan in order to temporarily boost skill Fencing to level 12 and attributes by 50%?]
Marco grimaced, realizing the system was exploiting his desperation.
But what choice did he have besides sacrificing some of his lifespan in order to survive.
Isaac didn't know what changed — only that Marco now moved like something inhuman.
Despite his best struggle to end the match, the score tied to 14-14.
Both opponents readied himself for the next bout.
The next touch might be the last.
They approached each other cautiously, ready for the other to strike.
Faints, side steps, and thrusts flew past each other.
Isaac made no mistake. His footwork was flawless, his reaction time was near the peak of human abilities.
But Marco… Marco was simply faster.
A silent buzz echoed in the silent arena. 14-15.
Isaac lost.