In that split second, just as the sharp pain went straight from my side and up to my armpits. I nearly activated my trump-card, nearly visited the wrath of the gods upon this fragile world. But that seemed like an overreaction. I am a just and merciful god, and I will spare this world my wrath... For now.

  Swiping across with my blade, this Batman wannabe or, I suppose, Gargoyleman wannabe dodged easily. Vanishing in the smoke and disappearing from every sense I could muster. Pain still wracked my side, so I pulled out the blade with one quick movement. No doubt my resilience attribute was the only reason I hadn't passed out.

  Blood gushed from the wound, staunching slowly as it knit itself together. Glancing at the blade, I noticed a greenish substance coating the tip. I really wanted to give Gargoyleman the benefit of the doubt, but sadly my fears confirmed my suspicions.

  [You have been poisoned! Weakening debuff applied, stamina usage doubled for 2 minutes.]

  The stuff hit me strongly, and I felt my arms get sluggish, like a weight settled on my shoulders, pulling me down. Sleeping sounded like a great idea, but that would lead to death, so not doing that.

  Trying to ignore the sudden weakness, I kept my thoughts together. Analysing the situation and hopefully coming up with a plan. This enemy was my nemesis, my great villain. The one tailor-made to counter me.

  It was clear what he was, no doubt in my mind. This bastard was systemless, which means he refused integration and has lived nearly all his life without the benefits of the system. No wonder he has so many cool toys. I mean, how could you combat enemies with superpowers? The Batman route is the only way, my dude.

  "Poisoned bolts, smoke bombs, aerial combat and probably got some magic." I announced aloud, trying to draw him out.

  The wound had already healed, and the weakness debuff was ticking down slowly. This would be the worst two minutes of my life. If I were a teenager, I would add. "That's what she said." But I am a mature adult and would never. I thought all that with a grin, unable to curb the feeling.

  Despite my early call out, the little ninja bastard stayed hidden in the smoke. This guy was giving way to many Batman vibes. Which is really scary, especially since he is practically invisible to my senses. Thinking hard about a solution, I try to come up with a method to track him.

  Every moment that goes by only affirms how bad of a match-up this is. I tailored most of my skills to combat other system users. This guy was invisible to my system sense, immune to my spamming skills, and his gear probably isn't system integrated either. And he is also a winged gargoyle Batman with reloading crossbows, poisoned daggers, smoke bombs, the ability to fly and probably has no issue with killing!

  Running seemed wise right now, so I thought of doing that. I really did, but then I started thinking more. The main issue right now is this smokescreen, and I could move crap with my mind. Sometimes I really was an idiot.

  With a significant force of will, I pushed my field outwards, made it denser and covered a wider area. Lowered the amount of force to the absolute minimum and pushed with a sudden rush of force. The smoke parted like the Red sea and my enemy came into focus. Dude was aiming a rather nasty-looking crossbow right at me.

  And that was when I knew I had screwed up. With my defences down, stamina low, poison still doing its thing. I don't think I can stop that crossbow bolt. I didn't have time to think as he pulled that trigger almost immediately after I came into view.

  Dredging up some quick thinking, I pulled my field together and launched it towards the bolt. With extreme force of will, I caught the arrow mid-flight. Right in front of my face, not a few centimetres before it went through my eye. I could feel a thick sheen of sweat trace down my back. The concentration required just to keep myself alive was maddening.

  Pushing the arrow away, embedded it in the sand with a soft thud. I had survived a near-death experience, only for another bolt to fly across the sands. I leaned to the side, trying to get out of the way, and caught it on my shoulder.

  Grunting in pain, I hoped to the heavens there was no more poison on this thing. Thankfully, no system message arrived, small favours and all that. Letting out a gasping breath, I couldn't stop the boiling anger flowing all the way up from my chest to my head. Face flushed red, I barely stopped myself from summoning my field again and blasting the bastard across the sands.

  Pain was not good; it made thinking really hard, and instinct took over. Such as going all glass cannon on my enemies while under the effects of poison. At least I got the satisfaction of watching him fly across and slam into the side of the arena.

  That anger-fueled force blast left me exhausted, draining my stamina. The poisoned timer was barely halfway done, leaving me still under its effects. Falling to my knees, I heaved as if I were dying. The intensity of that blast hit me just as much as it hit that prick. In a vulnerable position, I tried to get back on my feet and begin the fight anew.

  "Die, human!" somebody screamed, their voice ragged and furious.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Turning to the mad Garathi Berserker, finally back on his feet with killing on his mind. I wondered briefly if this was how I was going to die. Iced by this bastard, this mad bull of a monster. To be honest, it was shameful, and I really wanted to avoid that end. And just as I was about to try literally anything, the sound of shifting sand reached my ears.

  Glancing to the side, I found the woman saddling up next to me. Her foe lying in the dirt, his sword in her right hand and something in her left. Having a few moments to think, what with the crazy person barreling after us. I could say only one thing.

  "Is that a heart?"

  Brandishing the crimson red organ in her left hand as if it were a trophy. She gave me a savage grin. The glee etched on her face made me a little scared. Along with the blood smeared all over her clothes and the sword at her side. She would have made the perfect picture of a blood-soaked warrior queen.

  "It belonged to the dead guy back there, such a heartless bastard. Figured he didn't need it." She joked, very dark humour, but I found it oddly endearing.

  Nothing is better than putting on a lighthearted comedy. All to cover over the brutality of the moment. Because some people have issues with heart extractions. Understandably, it is a gruesome task.

  "Well, if he doesn't use it, he doesn't need it."

  "Exactly!" She smiled like a certain homicidal clown.

  The berserker, still screaming obscenities, ran at us with weapon raised. His face showed his desire to kill everyone. That was until I heard her grunt and the sound of something wet cross the distance. Looking back, I noticed the absence of a heart. And that's not a euphemism or metaphor. No, she literally didn't have it in her hand anymore.

  A second later I heard a great wet thump, followed by more obscenities. And let me get this straight, she hurled the extracted heart of a Garathi who was probably that guy's friend. Right in his face, slamming into him and splattering his friends' blood all over him.

  "You're crazy. I like it." I said, unable to keep a chuckle from escaping my lips.

  "And you look like crap. Here, have this." She tossed over a small vial.

  Catching it out of the air, seems my reflexes are still sharp. I inspected the vial, eyeing it suspiciously.

  [Minor Health Potion. Description: Replenishes 100 points of health.]

  Like a man dying of thirst, I downed the red vial without a second thought. As the liquid tipped down my throat and entered my body, the warmth was refreshing. The crossbow bolt in my shoulder started tingling, getting real itchy. The sudden need to remove the offending object was palpable.

  With one swift pull, the bolt came loose, blood gushed only to be staunched by rapid regeneration. God, I love magic. I love the system and the stuff it creates. Sufficiently healed, I stood back up, refreshed but still tired. Stamina low, I took out an energy drink and took a few quick sips just as the Berserker arrived.

  Being the absolute prick I was, I blasted him back again. Stamina refilled, I depleted a small amount just to screw with a furious man. Sadly, I couldn't indulge in my beverage. The Berserker wouldn't stay down long, and Gargoyleman had returned with a vengeance.

  Being the smart dude he was, he took to the sky, way out of range. Circled us with a few rather impressive aerobatics. I knew what he was going to do. I just hoped he didn't have any explosives.

  "It's a bird, it's a plane, it's an asshole with smoke bombs and a crossbow!" I couldn't help but say.

  "I'll take the meathead; you take the flying man." She suggested, and I realised I didn't know her name.

  "I want the meathead." I demanded, like a child.

  She just snorted before her whole body went ethereal, transforming into a phantom. Hovering over the ground, she sped forward on an intercept course with her target. Instead, I had to fight the flying man. I mean, she can hover and turn intangible, so shouldn't she fight the airborne sniper?

  Perhaps she had a grudge, and this was her catharsis? Yeah, that makes sense. Perhaps this will heal a deep wound in her heart, and I would be an evil man to impede her justice! Nodding at that, I turned to face the birdman and tried to come up with a way to reach him.

  "A long-range skill would be really cool right now." I grumbled.

  Alright, Jenny, what would you suggest? I leaned on my forever faithful companion. Please save me, oh wise one. I can't bloody fly. All I could do was dodge as if he were throwing wrenches. If you could dodge a wrench, you can dodge an arrow. Wise words from a man who drank his own urine. Maybe I shouldn't listen to the weirdo.

  An electronic pop ballad played in my head, the chorus urging you to rise and let nothing keep you down. It took a second and dodging a few more crossbow bolts before I got it. She wanted me to go up into the air literally. I had tested blasting off a few times, but sustained flight was way beyond me.

  But if I could maintain the force and energy vertically and use my cape as a means for controlled falling. Hovering was definitely in the cards. But doing this would require concentration, so I needed to go full force and project my field around me. Both as defence and means for ascent.

  Taking a deep breath, I willed my field — no, my aura — to surround me. Pushing my barrier into a shield, reflecting every arrow that streaked by. Transferring enough energy away from the defence and to my lower half, I pushed against the ground.

  A few mistakes had me wobble a bit, but eventually I ascended. Not too fast but slowly picking up speed. Trying not to look down, I cast my vision across the arena and locked eyes with my enemy. Grinning from ear to ear, I came up with a really stupid idea. Inspired by a certain web slinger.

  Withdrawing my energy drink, I drank half of it. Replenished a decent chunk of stamina. Maintaining this was hard, but not as hard as the crazy shit I was about to do. Aetherblade in hand, I reached out and activated my skill Force Attract. Instead of grabbing some poor sap, I reached out and sank my ethereal fingers into the arena wall.

  Through this bond of force and energy, I could literally feel my ethereal fingers digging into the stone. Finding purchase, I pulled myself with all my might and launched across the sky, right at the enemy. I could see his wide eyes as I leapt across the arena and came barreling towards him.

  "Surprise, asshole!" I roared as I flew like a rubber band.

  He barely had time to react as we collided in mid-air. Unfortunately, the impact broke my concentration, and so the field that was keeping me airborne fizzled out. Retracting back into the basic barrier. No longer able to hover, I latched onto the only thing within reach.

  This guy's torso became my lifeline. A lifeline that kept trying to kick, scratch and shoot arrows at me. Instead, I kneed him in the balls or whatever he had under those britches. His squeal of pain proved he had the stones, literally. The only problem was that he was the guy keeping us airborne.

  "Oh, shit!" I screamed as we tumbled down.

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