The conversation with Myol had been… Weird. I expected gruff, snark, a little concern but only a little.

Coward.

I waited, dragging my feet as the pain would enter my chest or the headache to come crawling back inch by inch. It didn't.

I snorted and cracked my neck, readjusting my spear. Well, if the arena-master wanted to comfort me in some misguided sense of guilt, then so be it. All I had to do was crush the peacock's plans and give them the middle finger on my way out.

My grip tightened on the tentacled lance.

Alright. No more stalling. Let's give them a show.

I moved through the exit and approached the island of marble. My opponent waited for me in the center. His eyes tracked my movements, never blinking. I extended my senses and focused on his gear, but beyond an enchantment around his hood, there wasn't much mana radiating from his direction.

Stopping at the center, I looked around and spotted the announcer floating above. He didn't even try to hide it this time. His scowl was on full display. Actually, on deeper inspection, it wasn't just an annoyance. In his eyes, genuine anger teased at the corners. When our eyes met, the edges of his mouth dipped into a snarl before he schooled himself.

"Our final match today for the tier-one bracket of the tournament. The loser of this match will compete in a final vote: The Crowd's Regret! The favored fighter versus the underdog." The announcer let the crowd savor the excitement before putting on a fake smile. This close, it was easy to see how shallow it was. "But I am getting ahead of myself. Before us now are two fighters ready to throw down. The Tyrant, Mordred, who's dominated the stage with every match, using one unexpected maneuver after the next. Versus someone on the other end of the spectrum. His moves aren't flashy, but his blades are sharp. He may not pull monsters from the ground, but he has skillfully defeated his opponents in every match. Roland!"

Without waiting for the crowd's cheering to subside, the barrier started to form. It completed the dome and the announcer flew up, hovering above and out of sight. His smile fully dropped, and he gnashed his teeth as he glanced toward a certain booth.

I twirled my spear and clanged it against the stone. My ring insulated loud noises, so the clink of the speartip against the floor was especially prominent.

"Roland, huh? Not the name I was betting on. So tell me, is that your real name or an alias?"

He turned his head as if listening for something. With a light shake he reached and threw his hood back.

Click.

I turned to my right but the blip of mana had already faded. To make it worse, it's appearance was fast enough that I couldn't pinpoint its origin.

"It really is a boring name, isn't it?" Roland said.

It came from his direction, but not from him.

"Can't say mine's any better. In truth, it's a little unoriginal," I admitted.

Roland shrugged. "I haven't met a Modred besides you. I think that's unique enough to qualify as not boring."

Click.

I stabbed behind me and turned, slashing at the second blip. My spear harmlessly cut through nothing.

Roland snorted and shook his head. "They weren't kidding. Your mana senses are insane. I know some hounds who've spent their entire life training theirs, and they wouldn't have sensed anything. At least you live up to your reputation."

I turned slowly, keeping my spear ready. "A skill? The only enchanted thing on you is your hood."

Roland shrugged again.

"Who knows? Honestly, I'd tell you but that would be stupid of me. I should at least wait until we're done."

"Let me guess, you won't tell me what that is either?"

"Actually, I can. It would spoil the surprise though."

That was surprising. I had expected the man to remain tight-lipped. He smiled at my confusion before shrugging a third time.

Click.

I shot forward, aiming for his leg. He smoothly stepped back and deflected my attack with a dagger. Pressing forward, I lowered my shoulder and switched grips, chopping toward his side with the butt of my spear.

He skipped out of range, mana surging from his feet to cushion the air.

"Decent speed. Slower than what you've displayed before. Which means conditional passive or you're holding back with releasing an active skill. The former is more likely as you've yet to display a movement skill even when pressed against an opponent with superior marital talent," he rattled off.

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My fingers twitched and he raised his blade, his casual demeanor betrayed by the quick reaction.

"So what's the big reveal?" I asked, circling closer.

"It's rather simple." Roland exhaled and mist blew out.

I latched onto the mana, but a strange static rebuffed my efforts. He blew until his hands were covered by the magical fog and bit the air.

Click.

Mana rushed through my chest, and I activated Storm King's Tempest along with Spirit Lord's Invocation. His form broke apart, and the transformation took over. I flexed my claws and injected mana into the air.

With a command from my familiar, the wind howled as I pulled it around my legs. The mist surrounding Roland' blades wisped away, the edges of his skill unraveling as I controlled the air in the dome.

Through my spear, I sent electricity around the shaft and threaded it over the head. I swung it in lazy arcs and pointed it toward his chest.

"So, are you going to tell me or do I have to pry it out of you?"

There we go. That's it. Now you're taking me seriously.

Before, the man had a lazy demeanor, a casual stance. Now? His eyes narrowed. The previous soft brown sported a thin ring of orange-gold around the edges.

"I suggest you decide soon, before I remove the oxygen from the dome," I said.

"A good bluff," he countered. "But the enchantments allow oxygen in. It wouldn't work."

I clicked my fangs. I hadn't been able to see all the enchantments baked into the island of marble, but I knew the barrier had a modified sealing rune. I didn't expect the guy to be knowledgeable about enchantments. No. The odds were unlikely. They were already planning on cheating; nothing stopped the idiots running the farce from telling him how the barrier worked.

He shook his head. "It's not what you think. They've used the same enchanting for decades. When you see enough matches, all these tournaments start to look the same. Even if they change the lineup."

"So you're saying they didn't cheat?"

"Oh, they did. Just not on that specific tidbit."

Click.

It appeared above my shoulder, stronger this time. I released the charge in my hand and let the wind rage. Around me, in a ten-foot bubble, the air distorted as dust was picked up. For good measure, I stabbed my spear in the direction I sensed the blip and shot a jolt of electricity. It exploded forth, harmlessly impacting the barrier.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Roland said. His voice permeated the air, echoing from multiple directions. "I've seen a lot of strange things in my life. Worked as a fence for a couple of years. All sorts of items flow through the black market. But nothing this strange."

I spun and released another blast of electricity. It cut through the clouded air, but Roland was to my right, pressed against the barrier's edge outside of the attack's range.

He exhaled, and more mist covered his hands.

Wait.

Sturmrorex roared in indignation. He helped channel the wind to a stop, and I throttled mana into the skill. The blast this time wasn't aimed to cut or harm. When it released, it pushed the wall of mist surrounding me into the barrier. The shielding mana hardened and pushed it back, but I was no longer covered in the skill.

Click.

I gritted my teeth and gathered mana at my feet. He smiled and shrugged again. The gremlin knocked its cage but I held back. There was more mana surrounding the man. Beyond the mist, a thin, glossy layer sprouted from his back, converging over his shoulder to form a pseudo, shell-like cloak.

"Honestly, I'm surprised. They predicted that you would have been less cautious. They couldn't decide if the feathered form or the scaled one was more likely, but they judged them both to be aggressive," he said, his voice still echoing.

"I have a third form."

"True. Nasty that is. Shadow users are more common than people think but none of them do what you did. It was almost enough to make me say no to the job. Fire? Your average day of the week. Water, stone, light? All the same. But pulling a leviathan from the depths and chucking shadespawn like they were misbehaving beasts? No one sane would attempt such a thing."

"Your voice is grating."

"It's a cultivated skill. Not a skill skill, but a useful one, none-the-less."

I shut off outside stimuli. Forcing mana into the ring helped deafen sound and I willed my sense of hearing to shut off. My eyes tracked Roland' every movement, and I waited.

He cocked his head but shrugged as if the building charge at my feet and the one in my hands didn't matter.

Click.

I shot forward. The wind cloak propelled me as I extended my spear. The blip appeared to my back left, just behind my shoulder. It was only one of the second brief flashes of mana. The other one originated elsewhere—in the hand of the bastard before me!

He blocked my lunge and attempted to jump away using his movement skill. My spear hissed as the toxin at the tip ate through the enchanted fog. He ducked as my spear cut a line of glowing blue above his head.

With a kick, he slammed his boot into my arm, forcing me back, but my tail stabbed into his foot. I wrapped it around the leather and jumped. At the same time, I closed my eyes, and the mana building in my palms exploded in a cone between us.

The world flashed, and I tasted ozone.

Shoving my spear at his leg, I hit something solid and willed it to bend. It met resistance and slowed to a crawl like I was cutting through hardened mud.

Mana rushed into my face. It wouldn't heal the blaring spots of color in my vision, but it reinforced my sight—a trick Teddy had taught me a couple of days ago. I opened my eyes and lifted the man into the air.

Smoke wafted off his form, but the shell of mana had moved from his back to before him in a shield of sputtering blue. A spiderweb of fractures rampaged through the skill, the remnant electricity tearing through the cracks.

I pushed more mana into my claws, and the shield shattered with the distinct sound of clinking glass.

I grunted. "No wonder that felt odd. Two shield skills? Really? And not a hint of fire in any of them. Were you cheating in the previous matches?"

My spear hit the marble and stopped, the acid-like venom hissing at the tip. Around it, the remains of thin mana coated the bone head, in the process of being devoured by the acid.

I shook the man, and his hood knocked back.

Wha-

He shrugged and his hair peeled away. Down the middle of his face, strips of skin flapped in the breeze around us, attached to the mop of burnt hair sizzling with smoke at the ends.

Grey, dark skin shown underneath, revealing an eye far rounder than a human's. It glowed with amber light coming from deeper within.

Click.

The world twitched, and my legs collapsed. I tried to steady myself, but it felt as if someone had socked me in the jaw. I lashed my tail at the ma-creature's chest, but he caught it before it could pierce his skin.

His hand wrapped around my face and gripped the back of my neck. Something sharp entered my muscles, pierced through the bone, and retracted with a dull… click.

"Got you," Roland laughed.

He pushed his face closer and tore through the false skin with webbed hands. The claws parted the rubbery material and tossed it to the ground. He pressed his face closer and exhaled.

The mist covered my head, and my knees collapsed as he released my neck.

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