CHAPTER 127

  TREMORS AND LIGHT

  The crowd had begun gathering before sunrise. The arena was packed beyond capacity, scrying mirrors floated above showing the betting odds.

  A name echoed louder than the rest:

  “Theodred Atelier vs. Dijkstra, the Sad Death!”

  In the waiting chamber, Hans checked the binding threads on his light leather gauntlet. “I can win, I will win, its time.” He shouted himself and stood. “I’m not my father’s son right now. I am Theodred. I came here sweating blood. I want this world to know who I am.”

  The gates began to open.

  A bell tolled—one that rang only for matches at the top.

  Hans stepped forward. Toward the arena. Toward Rank 10. Towards the sad death.

  A raised stone platform at the center of the square, marked with the Association’s seal. Knights stood at its base, awaiting new contenders. A crystal orb rested atop it — a medium for declaration.

  Hans stepped forward and placed his hand against it.

  The glow intensified. The whisper-quiet buzz of the city dulled. Attention turned.

  Then a clear, echoing voice issued from the orb itself, broadcast across Indu and the world.

  “Theodred of Ateliers Clan. Grade Sixty-Two. Accepts Challenge from Warlord of grade ninety-Two Dijkstra of Parv”

  Gasps. Shouts. Laughter. A few stunned silences. What is an Ateliers clan? Even Parv was confused to boast every thing in document. No one knew accept the high seat of Concordia who wasn’t present as always. The forgotten name of his clan was set to be revived by none other than his descendant.

  One boy dropped his skewer of flame-roasted lyndworm meat. As Hans lowered his hand.

  The coliseum breathed like a living beast. Tens of thousands filled its ribcage of stone, the air tight with wagers and wine, silk-clad nobles and mud-booted mercenaries pressed shoulder to shoulder, all waiting to see blood.

  If Hans hadn’t activated Lumen gaze he couldn’t see the details. “So this is what it looks from inside.” He took in the vast plains he was standing.

  He looked front, at the center, under banners from his own kingdom, Parv, stood his opponent. An opportunity to turn this misery into a fortune.

  Dijkstra rolled his shoulders as though shrugging off the restrains of morality. Now, in front of him wasn’t the kid he intimidated, but a full-fledged knight accepting the sacred rites of duels.

  His armour filled with dull earthen glow, a reminder of battles he had not merely survived but conquered. His sword—broad, ugly, cruel—hung loose in his grip, yet the ground already quivered beneath it.

  Theodred looked at him, younger by decades, smaller by half. His armour light and leather, though too thin for comfort, and his blade was bright enough, a swan sigil in the hilt.

  Dijkstra spat into the dust. “Tell me, boy. You had the opportunity to run, to never show up. Did they send you because they thought you brave, or because they thought you disposable?”

  Theodred rested his sword against one shoulder, his voice light but measured. “I thought I came here because you called me.”

  A low chuckle rumbled from the older knight. “Sharp tongue. Won’t stop it getting cut out.”

  The herald raised a gilded hand. “Knights. By right of challenge, by witness of the gathered nations—fight.”

  The word fell, and so did the ground.

  The first swing came not from Dijkstra’s sword but from the ground itself. A single step and he vanished—DeepStep—reappearing behind Theodred, his blade already in motion.

  Hans knew of this skill, it allowed Dijkstra to appear wherever ground beneath him reached. He twisted himself, light aura flaring, and the strike shattered flagstone far away instead of his spine.

  His sword tuned back to the trajectory instantly and with much more force.

  But as his sword moved—Upheaval—Dijkstra’s another skill that made Stone spikes shriek outward with tremors.

  Theodred staggered, dodging one after another, catching his balance just as another fissure clawed from beneath.

  He leapt, Agile sword steps, scattering dust like sparks.

  “Quick,” Dijkstra admitted, dragging his blade free. “But a firefly is quick, too. Still dies in the palm.”

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  “You talk too much,” Theodred said, voice steady though his heartbeat thundered. “Afraid the crowd will forget your name if you’re silent?”

  The stands roared approval. Not for him—for the spectacle. They smelled blood and were drunk on it already.

  Dijkstra gave no answer, only split into three. StoneEchoes—jagged afterimages of himself made from dust and shards, each brandishing the same brutal blade. They surged forward.

  Skill: LumenGaze

  Hans was dodging conserving his aura but now Dijkstra once danger turned to three. He couldn’t run on low power mode.

  His gaze sharpened, the world slowed down, his mind processed a lot of information in his fastest yet, tracking the faintest tells in their movements. One was too smooth, one too stiff, the third—real.

  His sword spun to life,

  Skill: Maximacre

  Humming like a hungry saw, and he lunged to cut through the fakes. But Dijkstra was a warlord so even the fake him bore challenge. A nick here, another there. But that’s only how much he could do.

  His odds and confidence for not even reaching the original Dijkstra, plummeted.

  So this is the difference between me and a warlord.

  He stilled for a second, taking a long breath. Confusing the audience as if the young knight had given up this early.

  Skill: Regenratio

  Skill:LumenGaze

  Skill: Maximacre

  Skill: Fester

  All passive skill was running on full swing. And with aura enhancing his speed and Agile sword step adding a boost. He turned into a streak of light itself.

  Constellation move: Sirius strike

  In a flare of sparks, a single strike, the Stone Echoes collapsed into gravelI and almost reached the warlord’s neck who was stunned and aggravated seeing his former king’s signature sword strike coming to life by an enemy.

  “Ah! I missed.” Theodred heaved, as his Regenratio recharged him with visible speed. His sword Kindness, resting on his shoulder and his attitude rising high.

  “How dare you—you bastard.” Dijkstra fumed. “How do you know that move?”

  “What move?” Hans shrugged rubbing salt in Dijkstra’s wounded pride. “It does’t take much for me to copy what I once see— and I was seeing a lot of whatcha call it—constellation moves.”

  Chris has showed several of half-full baked moves and it made Theodred justified the source of learning and established himself as the prodigy who could copy any sword move once he sees it.

  “I’m done testing you, bastard. Fuck this—you’d die now.” Dijkstra cursed, pouring his aura into his sword, turning it into a vibrating sword.

  Hans had also knew of this skill—Tectonic strikes—where each sword swing sends seismic waves through the ground, tripping, disarming, or staggering. If strikes were precise, it allows him to target joints, weapons, or footing without causing widespread damage.

  He got ready, having small pool of aura had an advantage too, the Regenratio had filled him to the full again.

  But Dijkstra was’t playing around this time, his blinking skill DeepStep and Tectonic strikes merged was going to break hell loose for him.

  The first strike followed immediately after he blinked to his right, Hans knew blocking that was suicide and his speciality since he began training aura was evasion not confrontation.

  Showing off his quick movement, he dodged by a hairline. A beginner’s luck—as people thought but the image of Dijkstra’s fury swinging and Theodred’s evasion as he could see future baffled them.

  However, being a warlord had advantage of not just massive aura pool and skills but the experience it came with being one and a body able to perform on that experience.

  Theodred had first but not the later and as he staggered once, his body couldn’t keep up with the movement he was imagining.

  Fuck—

  A heavy strike, he was desperately forced to block broke his guard and threw him across the arena like a dwarves missile. He went and went for several kilometres until momentum gave away.

  A warlord is a warlord. Damn it.

  On his knees, Theodred planted his sword like a cane, his aura already recovering, buzzing in ragged bursts. He drew a breath through his teeth.

  “You swing a lot of dirt around,” he mocked. “Compensating for something?”

  A ripple of laughter escaped the crowd, sharp as glass.

  He’s still there.

  Come on, don’t die this early.

  Show us what a prophetic knight can do.

  I bet my fortune on you elf. Just made Sad death bleed and I’ll won a fortune.

  The public raged in excitement.

  Dijkstra’s smile was slow, carved deep into his face. “Compensate? I compensate by playing with my food. Something you’ll soon forget.”

  He stomped, still having the huge distance between them and the ground obeyed. Quake.

  The whole arena tilted like a capsizing ship, stone slabs collapsing, forcing Theodred into a desperate slide. While his attempts of gaining a footing orchestrated by sudden protruding structures coming to life.

  To defend through sword, he needed a strong base but without proper standing, it was impossible.

  It pulled him towards the warlord. Giving him a question as to why didn’t Dijkstra used DeepStep to reach him, why through a showy move.

  “Something is not right”

  Skill: Armis

  He snapped open his sphere of light—just in time to shield himself as walls of stone clapped him in between.

  So this is what he was not using DeepStep. Planned to flatten me.

  He became a sitting duck or more of a flying duck that just lost its wings.

  The impact rattled his bones. The shield fractured. Aura drained.

  Above the dust, Dijkstra raised his sword. The blade grew heavy, bigger, sinking into the earth with a groan of compressed strata. He himself was covered in ragged stone like armour. A giant in himself. Blade of Burden. He called and hefted it with casual ease, like a farmer with a hoe.

  “Your little tricks won’t matter,” he said. “Every man breaks where I tells them to break.”

  Theodred wiped blood from his mouth and set his stance again, blade trembling but upright. His breath was ragged, his aura thinning already, but his eyes still focussed with LumenGaze.

  “Maybe,” he said softly, just loud enough for Dijkstra to hear. “But not today.”

  The giant knight brought his even bigger sword down.

  And the world split open.