“We appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to politely decline,” I said. This guy had trounced several elves I’d ranked pretty high in physical combat ability, after all. While I was up for a challenging fight, neither of us were masochists. Well, not when it came to fighting, anyway.

  “Come now. It’s clear you’re a team. Fighting me will allow you to bring out your very best,” the old elf said, his smile growing wider. “You wish to benefit from Slyphara’s gift, yes? You’ll progress far quicker than dueling amongst yourselves. Who knows? Maybe I can even offer a few pointers.”

  Several elves had taken notice of our exchange by now. Most looked excited, but in a way that told me they fully expected us to get our asses handed to us.

  I glanced at Aerion, who was frowning in contemplation. “What do you think?” I asked in a voice too low for anyone else to hear.

  “He doesn’t seem like he has any evil intentions,” Aerion said. “I honestly think he’s just spoiling for a good fight.”

  “Yeah, got that impression myself,” I replied. “But with your boost, we might actually be able to win.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “Won’t you be disadvantaged?”

  I shrugged. “If he’s right about harder fights helping us improve, well, maybe I’ll figure out how the tree’s helping me.”

  Or if it was helping me at all, I didn’t add. I had a feeling my status as a Champion was the reason, but that would be beyond disappointing, so I held out hope that it was just something more subtle. Something I’d missed or had to unlock somehow.

  “Well, if you’re okay with it, I am too,” Aerion said, giving me a bashful smile. “I would like to exercise my new powers, if possible.”

  I gave her a nod and turned back to the smug-looking elf. “Alright, old man. But go easy on us. We’re new here, as you can see.”

  “Of course, of course,” the man said. “I am called Syrral.”

  “Greg,” I replied. “And this is Aerion.”

  “Well met. Now, let us establish some ground rules, shall we? We’ll fight to surrender or knockout. Feel free to use any Boons or Blessings you possess. Enweightening powers with soul aura is allowed, though keep it reasonable. We don’t want to harm our great tree with collateral damage.”

  Enweightening? The hell was that?

  “Uh, that’s fine by us?” I said, too embarrassed to ask about it given our present company.

  The sighs and ‘aww’s’ that went around the spectators didn’t exactly help. A few of them even left, shaking their heads, as if colossally disappointed that this was to be a ‘reasonable’ fight.

  “Go all-out,” I muttered so only Aerion could hear. “Don’t hold anything back, but don’t use [Reave] or [Fading Fury] unless you absolutely have to.”

  “What, don’t feel like killing old men?” Aerion asked with a cheeky grin.

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t underestimate him. You saw what he did to those other elves. This guy’s crafty.”

  “Let the match begin!” Syrral said, holding one hand behind his back and beckoning us with the other.

  Did he intend to fight without any weapons? One-handed, at that?

  I’d happily take that handicap.

  I surged forward, completely unarmed, leveraging my 77 points in Grace to close the gap in a near-instant. Unsurprisingly, Aerion wasn’t far behind, thanks to the boost she received from the tree.

  I arrived first, and at the last minute, activated [Launch], spitting out a Steel Dart, while simultaneously drawing Light of the Fearless, activating its twin abilities as I swung it.

  Syrral showed his surprise by raising an eyebrow, but that was about the extent of his reaction. He simply pivoted on his heel and bent his torso, deftly avoiding the dart and missing my blade by inches. I had to wonder what his stats were for him to react so nonchalantly to what should have been a devastating combo.

  As skilled as he was, however, the old man couldn’t avoid everything.

  Aerion slashed cleanly across his chest with every ounce of her tree-enhanced force.

  For an instant, I worried if she went too far and braced myself for the fountain of red that was sure to spew when it connected.

  What I got instead was a localized shockwave—like she’d just smashed a brick wall instead of an unarmored old man.

  “Quite the powerful attack,” Syrral complimented, his smile never leaving his face. “I assure you, however, there is no need to hold back.”

  Aerion and I ignored him, jumping back to give ourselves some distance.

  “He’s tough,” Aerion admitted. “Got any ideas?”

  I quickly brought up my inventory, searching for anything that might be useful. What I saw didn’t look great, but there was one thing:

  [Ouch In So Many Ways!] [Foundation - 4]: Gone are the days when abilities dictate what damage gets done where. Now you determine the size and depth of the wound.

  The ability belonged to one of the Steel Darts I’d forged and enchanted. Despite its mind-numbingly stupid name, it let me control the size and depth of the wound inflicted. On its own, it wouldn’t do much, as Syrril would simply dodge. But the fact that he dodged rather than blocked was interesting. He could have tanked it head-on with his shield but didn’t.

  Which told me he thought it might actually hurt him. That was something we could use.

  Luckily, my special inventory had another ability that would come in handy. The last time I [Launch]’ed the dart at him, it had been from a distance of a few feet. But if I got in close—really close—and activated the ability, he wouldn’t be able to dodge.

  “All right,” I said. “You distract him, and I’ll find a way to sneak in an attack. If you can restrain him, do it.”

  “You believe this will work?”

  “We better hope it works, because if it doesn’t, I’m out of ideas.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Aerion nodded and darted forward, attacking in a flurry of strikes with her shortsword.

  Syrril bobbed, weaved, blocked, or deflected her every strike, moving with such precision that it almost looked like he was dancing.

  Of all the things, it was that damn smile that annoyed the hell out of me. I decided to wipe it off his face for good.

  Moving in, I began adding my own strikes to the mix, forcing Syrril to defend against both of us from opposite directions. What should’ve been a monumentally difficult feat, he managed without trouble, moving in such a way that Aerion and I actually began interfering with each other’s attacks.

  “This isn’t working!” Aerion cried in frustration. “We need more!”

  “You don’t say,” I said, attacking again. “If you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears.”

  Until now, Syrril hadn’t thrown a single punch or counterattack. We kept pressing him, to no avail—both of us getting more frustrated with each missed blow.

  “Enough of this!” Aerion shouted at last, and I could guess what she was about to do when her eyes turned red.

  “No—no, wait, Aerion, don’t—!” I cried, but it was too late.

  Her eyes had already turned red.

  Her strikes redoubled in intensity under [Reave]’s effects, adding 120 points to her 64 Dominion for a total of 184. Her attacks moved with such force that they blurred, and for the first time in this duel, Syrril was forced to defend in earnest, that ever-present smile cracking just slightly.

  I didn’t know if Aerion would actually manage to beat him—in fact, I prayed she didn’t, since it was likely she wouldn’t stop until he was dead—but those fears proved unwarranted. With her enhanced strength, she was just barely managing to keep him occupied.

  While her strikes still bounced off of whatever shield Syrril was using, they created shockwaves one after another, with Syrril dodging fewer and fewer as time passed. Aerion’s strikes grew wilder, and the shockwaves’ intensity increased.

  Crap. She must’ve activated [Fading Fury], too. The ability would make her stronger until she ran out of Essence and passed out. With her enhanced Essence pool and experience in battle, it’d been a long time since that happened, but given how long this duel was dragging, I figured she wasn’t far off now.

  The window wouldn't last long, but I’d be damned if I wasted this opportunity.

  With Syrril now completely focused on defending against Aerion, I moved in for the kill.

  Ducking low, I charged with all my strength, activating my suit’s [Snap] ability to move even faster than normal. I rushed Syrril without any intention of striking—my only goal to get close.

  Luckily, Aerion’s recent evolution meant she retained more awareness in her [Reave] state, and while she still couldn’t speak, she understood basic tactics and retained awareness of her goals.

  She must have recalled our earlier discussion, because she suddenly grabbed Syrril’s arm—surprising him, pinning him in place.

  Syrril hesitated only a split-second before working his way free from Aerion’s grip, but a split-second was all I needed.

  I rammed into Syrril from behind, activating [Launch], which threw out my dart at point blank range. As I did, I envisioned a laser beam. Focused. Directed, and as concentrated as possible.

  If Syrril did in fact have some kind of shield preventing blows from landing, then the narrowest beam had the best chance to get through.

  I half-expected it to dissipate, just like Aerion’s strike had, but to my utter shock and amazement, it went through.

  It actually went through! It cracked the shield and lanced through his body like a laser, and it was so powerful that it punched all the way through his body, staining Syrril’s robe red near his stomach.

  The only problem? The beam was minuscule. Not even half as wide as a pin.

  That was because the beefy dart itself hadn’t even scratched the barrier—only its ability had. I’d used it before, so it was at F-4 instead of F-0, but it still wasn’t enough to do any meaningful damage.

  So, even though the dart stopped cold at the barrier, its ability penetrated through.

  Syrril looked down in shock—earning him a vicious blow from Aerion that sent him stumbling backward. The shield, it seemed, was back.

  “Consider me impressed!” he said, sounding more curious than fearful. “I genuinely hadn’t expected you to break through my defense. Especially not without your full strength.”

  I frowned, taking a quick step back to avoid Aerion, who continued her relentless assault. “What do you mean by that? You said that before.”

  Syrril tilted his head, appearing genuinely confused, even as Aerion’s blows hammered uselessly against his shield. “Why, I’m talking about your soul, of course. With that amount of energy, your attacks should easily pummel me. Have you not been… restricting your power?”

  “Uh, no?” I said flatly. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Curious,” Syrril gazed at me for a long moment, apparently trying to gauge if I was lying. “How curious,” he repeated, continuing to ignore Aerion’s barrage.

  That smile—which had faltered before—was now back.

  “Now, if you’ll allow me,” he said. “I believe this duel has gone on long enough. Would you mind if I ended it?”

  I snarled. “You can certainly try.”

  I queued up another dart. While the other darts didn’t have the same ability as the one that pierced Syrril’s shield, I was hopeful that detonating them at close range would have a similar effect. It would hurt me too, of course—but I was confident I could tank it.

  Instead of taking a defensive stance like he’d done until now, though, Syrril rushed me, catching me off guard.

  This time, it was my turn to hesitate, and like last time, it was just for the barest of instants, but it was enough.

  The next thing I knew, the world had gone dark.

  I woke up to the soft, gold-amber glow of lanterns embedded in the vines and roots that made up the arena’s walls and ceiling, Aerion’s pointy ears barely poking into the corner of my sight.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, wincing as I tried to sit up. “What happened?”

  “We lost, that’s what,” Aerion replied shortly. “I don’t remember much myself after activating [Reave], but I woke up just a few minutes ago, too.”

  I rubbed my eyes and looked around the arena.

  “How long was I out?” I asked.

  “Just a few minutes,” Syrril said, approaching with a calm gait and offering me a hand, which I took.

  I checked myself, then Aerion. “Are you alright?”

  “All good,” Aerion replied, instantly cheering up. “Thanks for asking.”

  It seemed Syrril hadn’t done any lasting harm, though I still had no idea what he’d done to take us down.

  The whispering crowd that had gathered along the arena’s edge broke me out of my thoughts.

  “Were there always this many people here?” I asked.

  Syrril chuckled. “More came in once they saw how our fight was going. We amassed quite the audience, I’m happy to say.”

  “Well,” I said, brushing myself off, “good duel. But I don’t know if I gained a whole lot from that—other than learning how damn strong your shield is. What is that? A Boon or a Blessing?”

  Syrril smiled faintly. “Technically, it’s my Boon. However, a lowly Emergence Rank boon would never have been able to withstand that onslaught. Especially hers,” he said, looking at Aerion. “No, what you just witnessed was the power of my soul.”

  I blinked. “Come again?”

  He pointed at my chest.

  “It is the power that lies dormant in you. The power I thought you were suppressing this whole duel. However, It’s clear now that your soul is raw. Undeveloped. As such, you are unable to wield it.”

  “What sort of power are we talking about here?” I asked, frowning.

  Syrril beamed even brighter.

  “With that much energy pulsing through your core? What are you, Emergence? Perhaps low Divergence? If you master your soul, I daresay there would be few beings in this world who could touch you—even at your current rank.”

  For him to not only drop a bombshell but also accurately guess my rank? I stared at him, heart pounding. “Who… who are you?”

  “Me?” Syrril shrugged. “Oh, I’m just an old elf—and the Battlemaster for the Sylvan Guard.”

  Then he looked at both of us, his smile returning with intent.

  “Now tell me, how far are you willing to go to unlock that wellspring of power that burns in your soul?”