Overnight, Dyst dreamed of his time living in Crocus.
Those had not been happy days. He had lots of acquaintances, all of whom lived lives just as seedy as his own. He lived in relative luxury, at least by the standards of Crocus' poorest area. There had been lots of drinking, gambling, more than a few fights, a couple of women — some his age, some older — and of course, training. His acquaintances didn't get it. He was already stronger than them. He was strong enough. Why did he want to get stronger? When Dyst said to live forever, they'd laughed.
His whole world had been the neighborhood where he worked. It covered roughly a tenth of Crocus but housed more than a fifth of the population. People lived close together without much to go around. When tourists talked about visiting Crocus, they weren't talking about the part Dyst lived in. Only once had he ventured out.
It was on a day when his training went poorly. He stormed out of the Hydra Shadow hideout he'd been hanging around at. Dyst remembered being especially angry. His legs carried him further than usual. By the time he calmed down, he'd arrived in the center of the city.
It was a huge public square. Each edge ran for three blocks, creating an open area with cobblestones and crowds. There were people everywhere, many of them visitors to the city. Right in the middle was a fountain. As tall as a two-story building, it had four different layers, each one decorated with statues of varying sizes. They showed knights in armor, mages wielding the elements, and at the very top was man in the stately robes of a king, crown perched on his head. At the time, Dyst sat down on a bench and stared at the fountain for so long that by the time he went back, his acquaintances assumed he'd been arrested.
It was the fountain that Dyst dreamed of. Now, standing inside the arena, he wondered if that had been an omen.
Instead of the forest where Kageyama fought, today the Domus Flau was mimicking the city it called home. Specifically, the city center— the square with the fountain, along with four blocks of recreated businesses and houses extending in every direction.
Numbly, tuning out the crowd's roar, Dyst walked forward. There were two differences from the real fountain. The copy was dry, no water flowing through it, and in place of statues people were tied to the stones.
Mages.
"Hostages?" Kagura muttered.
The other six competitors were approaching the fountain alongside Dyst. The event hadn't started yet, nor had had the goal been explained. They all walked forward, where Grand Magic Games officials were ensuring the seven mages were properly tied in place.
Dyst recognized some of the faces from earlier rounds. He'd seen them competing from the crowd.
She was there too.
Sherria's hands were bound and she was tied with some kind of rope, same as the others. She'd replaced a replica of a knight wielding an axe. Dyst had the fountain memorized.
"I've been thinking about what you told me," Dyst said.
While the others went to check on their guild member first, Dyst went to her.
"That's good," Sherria said.
"I still don't get it, though."
"I thought you might not," Sherria said. "Some people
just don't."
Dyst frowned.
"Are you okay?"
"You mean these ropes? It's fine. They're surprisingly comfy." The ropes were only around her wrists, tying them together, and around her ankles, tethering her to the fountain. The others were the same. "They don't want us to be uncomfortable. We're all volunteers."
Someone laid their hand on Dyst's shoulder. The hand was giant yet the touch was gentle.
"You should check on your own teammate, Sir Dyst," said Jura Neekis. "He looks distressed."
Jura was smiling the same way as ever. Still, he always put Dyst on edge. He was the kind of person who couldn't hide how dangerous he was no matter how much he smiled. Dyst wished he didn't have to compete against this monster, a thought that some of the other competitors also had. Quite a few were giving Jura looks. It reminded Dyst of how his acquaintances looked at him when he lived here, just like the villagers back home when he became a mage. Fear and respect. It was a fine line.
"I hope you don't get hurt," Dyst told Sherria.
"I'm a mage. I can handle myself," Sherria said.
Dyst didn't respond, going to his teammate. He wasn't going to talk back to Jura. When someone stronger than you told you to do something, you did it. Nobody survived in the underworld unless they understood that.
Dyst stopped in front of his own hostage, crossing his arms. For some reason, he thought the tournament organizers would have used Meredy.
In addition to the ropes around his wrists and ankles, they had to use an extra rope to keep Totomaru in place. It ran horizontally across his gut, the bottom of which was spilling out of his shirt thanks to his position.
The bearded man turned to his side, blushing. "Save me, Mister Dyst. I'm trapped."
"Stop that," Dyst said. "It's gross."
"Mister Dyst, you're my only hope!"
Someone snorted. On his right were the Jura-and-Sherria duo of Lamia scale. To the left was another familiar face.
Raven Tail's hostage was the short purple man who could make his body grow. The ugly one with a fat butt chin. Dyst never bothered remembering his name. His appearance was the only interesting thing about him and not in a good way. Mary Hughes, on the other hand, was beautiful. She looked good while smirking. Beautiful, aloof.
Although they only met once, Dyst understood what kind of woman she was very well. He had seen plenty in his old line of work.
"So I was rejected, but someone like that gets in? It's a good thing your guild ignored my talents," Mary said. "I would have been held back."
"Hey!" Totomaru said excitedly. "It's the lady who Kageyama totally owned! Do you remember that, Dyst? She couldn't even see him move! It was hilarious!"
Mary's eyes were glacial, but her smirk remained. "I, at least, did something. You were let in because the guild master pitied you, laying on the floor and begging him to pass you with those other failures. Kageyama is the only one I acknowledge. The rest of you… Well, I see how you ended up teaching magic."
"Excuse me," Jura said. "I think that we ought to let our actions speak, not hurtful words."
He was as calm as ever, looking over to observe the nearby argument. At some point, as she insulted Totomaru, Mary had drawn the odd wand she used to wield her magic. Everyone else was beginning to pay attention to the conflict. Mary took a step back. She was smiling.
"Sure," Mary said. "That works. I can't wait for the match to start."
Her eyes lingered on Jura as Mato's voice reached them.
"Oh no!" A projection of the pumpkin-headed midget formed overhead. Dyst tilted his head back to watch. "Your precious comrades have been captured! They'll need someone to launch a… Rescue!"
The word Rescue appeared above the host's head in glittering green letters. That was the name for this event, then. Dyst wished they could just give the rules. It would save so much time.
"Soon, those competing will be led to their start points!" Mato said. "It'll be a race to the middle of the arena from there! I hope you have your running shoes ready! Get your hostage free, keep them safe, and return to the place you began. Whoever does that the fastest, wins! Consider it a race! But be careful, because once your hostage is freed, they can't take too much damage, or you'll both be eliminated!
A small, floating red bar appeared above the head of each volunteer. That was a neat trick. Dyst squinted, racking his brain to think how they managed that. It was too much for his expertise, but he thought he heard another contestant say something about lacrimas.
Well, regardless of how they managed it, the principle was simple. Keep the bar full. If Totomaru's bar reached empty, they'd lose. He could work with this.
One of the tournament officials who'd strapped the hostages in came toward Dyst. Six others approached the rest of the competitors. Soon, everyone split up, following their guides to the place where they'd start from. It turned out to be a box painted on the ground, roughly the same size as the magical vehicle the guild took to Crocus, or half the width of one of the nearby houses. Dyst waved the man away when he asked if he had any questions. Stretching slightly, Dyst loosened his body.
Time was the first enemy. The second — and more dangerous — enemy were the mages who'd be racing alongside him. Some strong people had come out. Of course, none of them were as scary as his Master.
Mato was still talking. If multiple teams failed to bring their hostage to the goal, how much damage the hostages had taken would be the tiebreaker. Dyst was barely listening. He looked ahead, searching for a usable object.
Finally, the pumpkin-headed blowhard shut up. The crowd took a breath and held onto it. Then, like a gunshot—
"GOOOOO!"
Dyst took three steps. By the fourth, the lid of a trashcan had torn off its natural place and shot to him.
The replication of Crocus was fully stocked. It had all the objects that the real section of city would have, from mailboxes, to window decorations, to functional trashcans.
Dyst jumped onto the metal lid. It didn't dip at all under his weight. Kneeling down and tucking one leg under his body, he held the rim for stability, then willed the metal disc forward at the fastest speed he could generate.
Dyst's hair blew back as he shot through the streets. He could feel the wind drying out his mouth, so he clenched his jaw. He had to squint in order to navigate. He was moving as fast as a train this way, until a sudden attack came in from the left.
It was a Quatro Cerberus mage. He had stupid yellow hair that was gelled up in what looked like fat, ugly antennae. His fashion sense was just as crap, all black with a leather jacket and a spiked metal collar. Dyst wouldn't have been caught dead looking like that.
He was fast, though. The mage had what looked like two whirlwinds around either of his legs. He was moving faster than Dyst, allowing him to launch an ambush from behind. If his magic wasn't making so much noise — a high-pitched whine that grated in the ears — he would've hit Dyst with a sneak attack.
Instead, Dyst flipped his trashcan lid. A kick shrouded in fierce wind hit the metal and blasted him forward. Dyst's body skipped once before he rolled and got his feet underneath himself, sliding backwards while facing the enemy.
"I, Rocker of Quatro Cerberus, will be your opponent!" the mage said. "It would be cowardly to attack an opponent when their helpless friend is with them! Therefore, I'll wipe you all out before anyone gets freed!"
Dyst cocked his head. "How are you going to do that when you're this weak?"
Mato started screaming.
"Sabertooth have done it! In a mere thirty seconds, Rogue has rescued his partner and returned to the starting position! That's a record! Who could have expected such a fast result?"
The floating screen showed Sabertooth's twin dragons. Sting had his arms crossed, standing proudly like he was the one with the achievement. Meanwhile, Rogue rose out of the ground, emerging from a shadow. Some kind of movement magic? Dyst wondered if it was better or worse than Kageyama's version.
Rocker was staring at the screen, slackjawed at how quickly his plan had been foiled.
Dyst turned and ran.
"Hey! Coward! Come back!" Rocker activated his magic, hurling himself in pursuit.
They had almost reached the square before Rocker's sneak attack. Factoring in how far the kick threw Dyst, it only took him ten steps to reach the cobblestones of the square. By then, Rocker was almost on him.
Just as Dyst wanted.
Dyst ducked sideways right as Rocker loomed behind him. A metal ball hovered in the air there, hidden from sight by Dyst's body until the last second. It flew at Rocker and hit him straight in the head. He fell backwards and hit the ground holding his face.
Dyst Focused on the fountain just in time to watch two monsters arrive.
One was five feet tall at most, a little goblin made of disgustingly bulging muscles. He had a square face with a protruding chin and a wide nose. It was Ichiya from Blue Pegasus, only twice as buff as the man normally was, and only a little bit taller.
Ichiya was wielding two streetlights that he'd torn out of the ground with raw strength, one of them in either hand. He swung them like they weighed nothing. Meanwhile, the second monster danced gracefully between his blows. The two of them were racing toward the fountain, attacking each other as they went. The second monster didn't have a hideous appearance. She was beautiful. Dyst only considered Kagura a monster because when Ichiya swung a lightpost at her, she met with her sword and blasted it out of his grip.
Dyst had to throw his hands in the air, jerking the lamppost off target at the last second, to keep from being hit. Rocker was just starting to get up, so Dyst flicked his hand, bringing the heavy metal post down on his head. Rocker stayed down this time, concussed for certain.
Ichiya swung his second lamppost, holding it with both hands. Kaguya blocked it and kicked him, except there was no stopping the momentum behind this attack. She was thrown off her feet, landing on the far side of the courtyard. Her kick made Ichiya roll like a ball. He popped back to his feet next to the fountain, showing no wear and tear. For a moment, they looked at each other.
The two of them rushed to their hostage, tore off the restraints, picked them up however was most comfortable, and took off. Kaguya put Beth Vanderwood on her back and disappeared as suddenly as she arrived. Ichiya held Jenny Realight in a princess-carry, leaving the courtyard just as fast.
"This task is so romantic…" Jenny said. "So why does my rescuer have to be so ugly? Where's Hibiki? I want a refund!"
"You tell such funny jokes, Jenny," Ichiya said. "After all, everyone knows I'm the most handsome!"
His self-praise appeared to energize him. His grotesque muscles bulged and he put on a burst of speed, disappearing.
Dyst revised his opinion. He'd thought Ichiya was just a toad. Clearly, Ichiya was a dangerous toad.
No good would have come from getting mixed up with those two. More likely than not, Dyst would have ended up in the same state as Rocker if he tried to fight. Now that they were gone, he ran to Totomaru. As he approached, Totomaru's bindings came loose one at a time. Thanks to his magic, Dyst had his hostage free by the time he got close to the fountain.
Totomaru fell to the ground, landing in a sitting position. He looked up at Dyst past his lashes, which were strangely long. "I knew you would come for me."
"That's the whole fucking point," Dyst said. "I told you to stop talking that way, it's weird. Now let's get out of here. This is a race."
"Carry me."
"I'll throw you with my powers, if that's what you want! Otherwise, get up and put those legs to use!"
Totomaru hopped up. The heavy fire mage was fast, far faster than Dyst, although reaching the finish line might be beyond his stamina. If need be, Dyst would throw him down the last block or so.
They were ready to run off when Dyst hesitated. He looked back.
"That monster hasn't come for you yet?"
Sherria barely looked at him.
"Jura has a name. Don't worry about us. It's a competition."
That was true. She was completely, one hundred percent correct. And yet…
"He should be here," Dyst said. "No one could stop him. If even I got here, then what is he doing? Maybe he's not coming. You'll end up stuck like that."
This time, Sherria met his eyes. "Why do you care?"
Dyst opened his mouth, only to discover that he had no answer. He didn't have a single reason to care. None that he could put into words.
So he turned and started to run.
There had been one more part of his dream that morning. It was normal whenever he dreamed of his life as a criminal. Always, without fail, those dreams ended with Harry's arrival.
Something about what he did to Dyst, the memories he showed Dyst of what immortality really meant, had a lasting effect. Harry's appearance ended that part of Dyst's life. Likewise, Harry even arrived to end his dreams. Even though it was nothing but a memory, clearly not the real Harry, it always stirred something inside Dyst's heart.
Fear was too simple a word for it. For the first time in Dyst's life, he had come face to face with someone who could end him if or when they felt like it. It would've been as easy for Harry as snapping his fingers. Even though Harry wasn't that kind of person, the possibility made a mark on Dyst. It taught him a new emotion, one he'd only felt once in his life.
Today, he felt it a second time.
Totomaru felt something too. They both stopped, facing south, taking a few seconds to look for the source.
A few seconds was all the time they needed, as well as all the time they had.
Buildings disappeared. The recreation of Crocus tore apart. A hundred horizontal pillars or rock-solid earth wiped out an entire direction of the city. Thousands of pounds came at them ridiculously fast.
Totomaru conjured all seven colors of his rainbow fire. He attacked, the earth broke through, and he was thrown away. As he flew past Dyst, Dyst vaguely noticed his health bar sinking to just a fifth of full.
Dyst created a dome of telekinetic force in front of his body. He howled as the earth crashed into it. But it held.
His brain was thinking faster than normal. Adrenaline had taken over. In the span of an instant, Dyst processed that he had blocked the attack and the feeling in his stomach wasn't going away.
He wasn't the main target. The majority of the pillars were converging behind and to the right of him. The fountain. Sherria. But why would Jura—
There wasn't time for questions. Two dozen surfaces of earth were descending on her from three sides. Let alone remaining in the match, it was an attack that Sherria wouldn't survive. Dyst understood this and acted.
He gnashed his teeth and growled like he was grappling with an incredible weight. While maintaining the shield in front of himself, he tore a chunk out of the fountain, taking Sherria along with it. She flew toward him, going through a rough landing as her bound hands prevented her from bracing herself. It split her lip open and jarred her shoulder. But she was alive.
Dyst pulled her all the way to his position, shredding her restraints a second later. Sherria looked at him, wide-eyed from shock. Earthen pillars were still pressing against Dyst's barrier, attempting to force their way through.
"My guild master said you could only use your magic on one thing at once," Sherria said.
"I could," Dyst said. "I got better."
Those fuck-ups he used to hang around with never understood why he trained. They never understood that strong enough was one bad situation away from being too weak. If they weren't dead or locked up yet, Dyst wondered if they were watching this.
If so, they might just get to watch him die.
Dyst reached across his chest in both directions, then hurled his arms outward. The earth pillars around them were blown apart. The scraps behaved like liquid, pooling and rippling, ready to leap at them in a new and deadlier shape. He didn't fool himself into thinking he'd accomplished anything, except giving them a window to take slightly better stock of the situation.
Sherria struggled to her feet beside him. Her magic activated, healing her lip and letting her move her shoulder more naturally again. Together, they looked at Jura Neekis.
The sixth-ranked Wizard Saint had his knees slightly bent and his arms out at his sides, occupying an attack stance. His body and his magic were primed, holding nothing back, ready to attack and to kill.
His face was horrified.
Terror was written across it, but he couldn't speak. His lips weren't his to control. Behind him, Mary Hughes strolled around with her wand in her hand, her smirk wider than ever.
"Someone told me recently that actions are worth more than words," Mary said. "I like that advice. I like it so much, I've decided to show him how devastating actions can really be." Mary cocked her head. "Can that fat fuck Totomaru do this?"
She pointed her wand, jabbing the finger on the end toward Sherria, and her captive Wizard Saint rushed to murder at her whims.