The moment I start to answer her, my stomach betrays me. A loud, growling protest reverberates from my belly, and I just stare at it as if it slapped me.

  Cari just laughs off my embarrassment. “Starving, huh? Come on, let’s go get some food, then we can talk.”

  While I have a skill that reduces how much I need to eat, all I’ve had was a handful of berries and water for the past… well, apparently the past nine months. I was too distracted by the guards, then Darius, and then Cari to realize that I'm starving.

  I follow her through the guild halls once more as we make our way to the lounge. The lounge itself is almost exactly as I remember it, its large open space filled with mismatched chairs and battered tables all arranged around a central hearth.

  The scent of cooked meat and old ale lingers in the air, drawing me towards the long counter that splits the room. The bartender... I think his name was Baylen? I'd only ever remembered his face. And to avoid pissing him off.

  Any more than that was kind of pointless.

  Ah, whatever.

  He glares at us over the counter, his face set in that familiar, ever-present scowl. He’s been the bartender and cook for longer than I’ve been in the city, and it shows.

  In my experience, he’s a wrinkly old fart with the attitude to match. But he makes damned good food and keeps the lounge in perfect running order, despite the efforts of his high leveled customers.

  As we pass through, I’m surprised to find the space completely empty, and I feel a sense of foreboding. Cari calls out to him, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Baylen, you have any food left from lunch?” she asks.

  I was right!

  It's a struggle not to do a little fist-pump, but I manage. He looks us over and grunts before heading into the kitchen through the swinging door behind the counter. We settle down at the bar side by side, and when he returns he’s holding two plates filled to the brim with food. My mouth waters when he sets it before me, and Cari hands him a few coins.

  It’s a simple meal, but it looks and smells like the best thing I’ve ever seen. After the first bite, I’m certain it’s the best thing I've ever tasted, too. There are nearly half a dozen pieces of grilled chicken with crispy, seasoned skin atop a heaping serving of mashed potatoes absolutely drenched in butter and even more seasonings.

  I instantly lose myself to the meal, barely taking the time to savor it. The plate is empty in minutes, and before I can be disappointed, another appears in its place, and I begin again. I end up devouring two more plates before I finally come back to my senses enough to notice Cari’s mirth filled gaze.

  Even Baylen is looking at me, and when I meet his eyes he gives me an approving nod. I flush with embarrassment as he replaces my plate with another, a knowing smirk on his face.

  I’d never eaten this much in my life, but I was somehow not feeling bloated or sick in the slightest. Rather, I was still hungry. So I start chowing on the proffered food, though at a more measured pace this time.

  After a moment, Cari speaks up with a grin. “I’m glad I’m not letting you get your tail handed to you on an empty stomach, at least. I need to know, though—you gonna empty my purse here and now, or will I be safe until my next payday?”

  “Sorry… I’ll pay you back, I promise. I had no idea I was so hungry,” I say after swallowing another mouthful of chicken.

  She waves it off.

  “I’m just teasing. Are you going to tell me how you intend to survive this fight or what? I’m worried, you know,” she says, and I can see the actual concern in her gaze.

  “Well, remember the ferocity Skill?” I say, trying to keep the specifics vague so our host doesn’t hear too much.

  Her eyes brighten at that. “Yeah… wait, you think it'll activate? How can you be sure?”

  “Oh it definitely will. I don’t know exactly how it works yet, but the instant I saw him it went berserk,” I explain. “Combined with Enhance Body, I think I’ll be more than capable of at least surviving.”

  Then I lean in to whisper in her ear, “Plus, I can shift everything into healing in a pinch. That’d be well over 13,000 health a minute.”

  “Hmm… let me see your status again,” she says.

  I mentally send it her way, and she starts hemming and hawing over the numbers, even going so far as to count on her fingers at some points. She finishes—almost at the same time I finish my last plate—and gapes at me.

  This time, she leans in to whisper.

  “With everything combined, you’ll be sitting on over 3,800—almost 3,900—total points in your stats!” she hisses. “Do you have any idea how absurd that is for your level?”

  I just shake my head, and she pulls back with a sigh.

  “Well, it’s—” she starts, when a familiar voice crashes through the room.

  “Ah, there you are! Come along, Emilia, it’s time for the test. Can’t keep the people waiting!” the Guild Master Folly says cheerily.

  I just groan, realizing my earlier sense of foreboding was spot on. The place is empty because everyone went to watch my fight with Darius. Honestly, I should have expected it. Like the Guild Master said before, it isn’t often that someone gets tested for C-rank.

  The city of Bephis is small. Maybe a few thousand people live here, with the average level being around twenty. The fact that we're classified as a city by the council at all is almost exclusively due to the Tunnel entrance and the railway system that leads right to the capitol.

  But our section of the Tunnels only delves five layers deep. That limits even the strongest Delvers to anywhere from level fifty to sixty. And while I didn’t know the exact levels of The Strikers party, I had heard rumors that Agora might be over level sixty, or even close to level seventy.

  But that’s the absolute peak of what our little city can expect, and she wasn't even from here. Thanks to that, our Guild doesn’t even have the authority required to give out a rank higher than C.

  And that inevitably leads to it becoming a spectacle whenever it happens.

  Despite that, I’m surprised to find that I’m not even a little nervous. If anything, I’m looking forward to the fight. I still don’t like the idea of a crowd watching me though. It’s not easy to disregard years of trying to remain invisible.

  Still… my tail swishes happily, betraying my anticipation. I’m tempted to blame it on Fae Ferocity, which seems to have kicked back in and wants me to play around. But I know myself. I can feel it in the back of my mind, like an itch I haven’t scratched yet.

  I want this. Even if I lose, I fully intend on taking a pound of flesh from Darius. If not today, then some other time.

  We all follow the Guild Master out of the lounge. Even Baylen tags along, and if the glint in his eyes is anything to go by, he’s pretty excited to watch the fight. As we walk, it crosses my mind that things might get out of hand, given how Darius acted last time I saw him.

  So I pull away from Cari, motioning for her to stay back as I sidle up next to the Guild Master to have a quiet word.

  “Guildmaster,” I say, getting his attention.

  He raises a brow at me curiously, so I continue, “It may seem a lot to ask, but if things get out of hand… please don't interfere.”

  “Explain,” he says, frowning at me.

  His eyes stab into me, and I know I need to be careful with what I say next. So instead of just talking, I mentally share my status with him. Instead of my full status though, I only send over my actual stats themselves with a quick activation of Enhance Body.

  His eyes widen at what he sees, and his glare intensifies. I hold up a finger, and he pauses just as he opens his mouth to speak.

  “I will survive just about anything short of losing my head, and I will not kill him regardless of what he tries. So, please, don’t interfere. I need to settle this myself,” I say.

  I wasn’t sure about that, myself, but I needed to sound confident enough that he’d at least consider it. Tier Ones are no joke, but if Cari's reaction to my stat totals is anything to go by, I at least stand a chance.

  My eyes plead with him to listen, and I lean a little on my Charisma to help the effect. He keeps glaring for a few seconds, but then his gaze softens. Not by much, but I notice it.

  “There will be questions when this is done. Understood?” he says.

  It isn’t really a question, so I just nod and say, “I’ll answer everything I can."

  He gives me an imperceptible nod, and I fall back to Cari’s side. She looks at me curiously, but I just shake my head at her. I can tell her later, when she isn't in a position to change the Guildmaster's mind.

  Though the fact that he agreed to my request without much fuss is encouraging.

  It takes a few minutes of walking through the halls of the Guild before we finally exit through one of the rear doorways. It’s a double door, much like the main entrance, just smaller. Still large enough to fit two Scruffys side by side, though.

  The doors are already open, spilling sunlight into the hallway and brightening as we get closer. As my eyes adapt, I can finally see what awaits me.

  The large training arena is familiar, its tiered seating filled with countless spectators and surrounding the entire space in a semicircle before meeting with the Guild buildings walls, enclosing the space. The moment we step out, it’s to murmurs and whispers, and I manage to pick up on some of them with my sensitive ears.

  “Whoa, who’s she?”

  “Darius doesn’t seem happy.”

  “Damn, she’s gorgeous!”

  I stop listening after that, ignoring the warmth in my cheeks at the comment. I still hadn’t had a chance to see myself in a mirror since the expedition, but with Cari and now even random strangers commenting on my apparent looks…

  Well, I didn’t know how to handle praise. Insults are easy—I dealt with them all my life. But compliments? Gods no.

  I shake myself off, continuing to look around. All of the training dummies, targets, and practice weapons have been pushed up against the walls of the building to be out of the way, and standing in the middle of the dirt arena is Darius.

  It looks like he cleaned himself up for the event. His armor is freshly cleaned and polished, no longer looking scuffed and worn. Even his face looks better, the bags under his eyes less visible than they were before.

  He scowls at me, but I meet it with a grin, my Fae Ferocity skill ramping my excitement up. Guildmaster Folly motions me to enter the arena, then directs Cari and Baylen to take a seat somewhere.

  Cari just plops down on the ground next to the wall, not even bothering to attempt finding a open spot in the packed arena. Baylen, on the other hand, moves towards the nearest sitting area, and people move, squeezing against one another like sardines so that he can have room for himself.

  I almost chuckle at that. Nobody pisses off the bartender. It's honestly the only reason I even half-remember his name. And I don't even drink.

  By the time I’m about ten paces from Darius, the Guildmaster speaks, his magic somehow carrying his voice across the entire space to every ear that can hear. The crowd visibly perks up, heads appearing from huddled conversations.

  “This is going to be a C-rank Delver qualifier match. Standard rules—full contact spar, ending when one of you surrenders or becomes otherwise incapacitated. Lethal or permanently maiming blows should be prevented by the enchantments, but they are still prohibited. Am I understood?” he says, his tone as hard as steel.

  A susurration spreads through the crowd, their excitement building in volume slowly. The grave look in the Guildmasters eyes leaves no room for argument, so both Darius and I nod our agreement quickly.

  “Good. Grab a weapon from the racks, and when you’re ready, I’ll signal the start,” he says, directed at me.

  Darius, as expected, already has a sturdy wooden longsword and shield. I don’t move, instead shaking my head at Guild Master Folly to indicate I don't need any.

  Darius snarls, “You’re wrong if you think I’ll hold back on you just because you don’t have a weapon.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Did it ever occur to you that I don't use one?” I ask, letting my Charisma guide me into a smile just shy of pitying.

  It works marvelously, and I catch a vein bulging at the side of his neck as he fails to restrain a growing scowl. Thankfully, the Guild Master starts counting down immediately after our exchange.

  “Begin!” he roars.

  Just like that, the arena is silent. I activated both Enhance Body and Arcane Regulation the moment I entered the arena, and thanks to my increased stats I see the moment Darius’ face changes. His frown transforms into a grin, and the look in his eyes goes from one of rage to that of excitement.

  Unfortunately for him, he’s slow. Relative to the me before the System update, he was insanely fast. All but a blur to my eyes, and maybe even on par with Agora once he ate that arcanite shard.

  Now, though?

  I smirk, and he sees it. His eyes widen slightly, but he still dashes towards me, closing the distance quickly. His sword stabs towards my belly, a glowing red aura surrounding it from some skill he’d activated.

  From the looks of it, he has a bit over half of my current Dexterity, so with a simple twist of my body, the wood blade slides past my stomach. The movement is clean and effortless, and his eyes widen further when he realizes what just happened.

  I don’t give him the chance to correct his mistake. I chop down on his wrist with a knife-hand, eliciting a grunt of pain. I only used Arcane Strike, just to make sure I didn’t do too much damage. The Skill couldn’t ignore plate armor, but I knew better than to attack that outright anyways.

  I put up a maximum power Scarlet Barrier in the same moment he tries to bash me with his shield, stopping him dead in his tracks. Still, one of the crystalline shield fragments shatters like glass.

  Damn, okay. Durable and strong as all hells.

  He recovers nearly instantly, and seems to be taking me more seriously if his glare is anything to go by. With Fae Ferocity active, I have more than enough time to act before he can switch tactics. I create a Blood Burst behind him, but keep it to a quarter of its maximum power because I still wasn’t quite sure how strong it was.

  Without even looking, he repositions his shield behind him to block it while his sword swings down, empowered with the same skill as before. But I didn’t just stay idle to see how things played out.

  As his sword connects, it shatters several of the scarlet crystal shields that whirl around, only stopping once its destroyed five of them and fractured another. At the same time, there’s an explosion of compressed blood and air, but he doesn't even budge from the force.

  A fraction of a second later, I’m sliding past his sword arm and my fist slams into his armpit, once more empowered by Arcane Strike. I get two hits in before he can even pull back, and I've just made it clear that he can't ignore my attacks thanks to the mana invading his system with each Arcane Strike.

  He roars in a mix of anger and pain, back-stepping while bringing his shield to bear again. This time it’s just a bit faster than I can dodge, glowing red with the activation of a skill. It slams into my chest with a crunch, knocking me several paces back through the air. I land on my feet with a grunt of my own, but that's all I manage.

  It feels like all of my ribs are broken, with several stabbing into things they really shouldn't be, but my regeneration is fixing it easily enough.

  When I didn't immediately crumple, he opens his shield hand. That’s when everything changes.

  “You fucking coward,” I growl, my words half choked with blood.

  It’s like I’m watching history repeat itself, and my blood instantly boils with rage.

  In his hand is a shard of arcanite, its blue glow faintly illuminating his face even in the light of day.

  Then he eats it, and Fae Ferocity explodes in my mind. He'd rather cheat during a fucking exam than be seen having a hard time. But that wasn't all.

  Guildmaster Folly was right, though he didn't say it outright. He'd rather kill me than let his pride be injured further, price be damned.

  Punish.

  This time, when he moves, it’s too fast. His whole body glows a mix of arcanite blue and the red of his other skills. He used some kind of charge skill, closing the distance in a blink. I can feel the arcanite's mana, floating loosely around him.

  Before I can act on that, his sword connects three times in the same instant, glowing a bright angry red, another skill clearly having been added to the mix. One strike lands against my left thigh, and the bone shatters. The other two punch cleanly through my stomach effortlessly.

  His sword stays there, buried in my gut and poking out my back. The pain is instant and intense, but I ignore it all. I’ve grown more than used to pain over my life, and the wrath is all consuming. I’d been holding back, as well, trying to keep to the terms of the duel.

  But now it doesn’t matter.

  I can’t overpower his Strength, but I'm still strong enough to hold on. I grab his sword arm with my right hand, digging fully empowered claws into his flesh. At the same time, my left hand sends a punch after punch into the back of his elbow. With Arcane Strike dealing internal damage, Bloodmist Fist speeding up the strikes, and my hold delaying him by a fraction of a second, it’s just enough.

  After four blindingly fast strikes, there’s a loud crunch accompanied by a scream of agony as his arm folds in the wrong direction. He pulls back, but I don’t let go and he takes me with him. He tries to bring his shield forwards, intent on bashing me away again, but instead of falling for the same trick, I leverage myself where I’m impaled and use my grip on his arm to perform a maximally enhanced drop kick right into his shield.

  The pain from the sword twisting in my gut almost makes me regret it. Worse still, it slides halfway out from the force of my kick pushing me back. Then I realize I'd ignored my broken leg, and it takes every scrap of will I have not to scream in agony.

  But it works. The force of my kick knocks the shield aside with a crunch as the wood fractures, and he stumbles.

  As he stumbles, I release his arm. The sword slides out of my belly with a sickening squelch, but I push through the wrongness with the help of Fae Ferocity and Mental Suppression.

  Using the arm I broke his elbow with, I catch myself on the ground mid fall and dig my claws and fingers into the packed dirt for as much grip as I can get. Then, with a twist of my hips I send a kick into his back ankle with my undamaged leg.

  Gods, I wish I could heal faster.

  His foot slides out from under him before he can stabilize himself and he topples backwards. I take that moment and move. Already mid twist, I push off the ground with both hands and spin through the air with my arms and legs spreading right at the end to slow my rotation.

  I slam into his chest, and we both crash into the dirt with me straddling him.

  He tries to grapple me with his still working arm, but with my natural flexibility I manage to keep from getting tangled up. Instead, I leverage myself to stay locked around his chest.

  Then, I pull on the mana around him. With Wisdom's second milestone, it gave me the ability to control and manipulate ambient mana. I never really took the time to figure out what that meant when combined with my Race's natural control over mana.

  But it’s like second nature. Unlike Guildmaster Folly, my manipulation isn't based on finesse or skilled control. It's all brute force and instinct.

  The blue glow of the arcanite surrounding and infusing his body with mana isn’t his. It’s not controlled by him, or even a part of him—despite him consuming the stone. I can touch it. I can take it.

  So I do.

  I grab the mana and rip it away, shunting it into the air around us to be free. It goes almost gleefully, dispersing the moment I let it go.

  “What the fu—” he starts, but I interrupt him with a two quick punches to his face.

  His head slams into the packed dirt, but I know that doesn’t mean anything to someone whose highest stat is Constitution. They do daze him, though.

  “Playtime’s over, Darius. It’s about time you fought back, isn’t it?” I say, my voice sickly sweet and laced with as much condescension as I can muster.

  Another hit elicits an audible crunch as his nose finally breaks. This time his head slams into the dirt with enough force to crack the ground beneath us. To my surprise, he has enough of his wits to raise a hand, and I see the moment he tries to speak a surrender.

  Pure rage instantly overwhelms any rationality I had left, and I use Hemokinesis to control the air in the same way I saw the Guild Master do.

  Again, my control is messy, and I don't even really get it. But it works. It eats nearly a third of my stored mana, but I don't care.

  I still steal his words before they’re even spoken.

  “You don’t get to run away this time,” I growl, each word punctuated with another punch.

  Strike after strike, I craft a crater in the ground made specifically for Darius’ head. He tries to cry out several times, attempting to surrender, but I don’t let him. My mana regeneration can keep up.

  The crunches of bone around his eyes, cheeks, and jaw are far too satisfying, but I don't stop. I’m already holding myself back as much as I can. Every hit, my body begs for me to use my claws, to tear away his flesh and rip his throat open to the air so he can pay with his blood.

  Instead, I satisfy myself with turning his face into one giant welt, and it takes another dozen hits after even that to knock him unconscious.

  At least, that’s when I finally stopped hitting him. I almost didn’t stop, but I had done what I needed to, and Fae Ferocity was no longer urging me on.

  I was so exhausted. Like my soul itself was worn out. At the same time, I'm deeply satisfied.

  The urge to kill him was powerful, but I managed to restrain myself each time, and in the end the itch in the back of my mind was gone.

  Well, not entirely. What mattered is that I'm in full control again, if only just.

  That’s not to say I'm not furious—I still am. And I wouldn’t trust him to hold a spoon, much less a blade near me. But I no longer wanted to immediately kill him, so it was an improvement.

  I push a little Arcane Regulation into him, just to make sure I didn’t accidentally render him brain-dead or something. Thankfully, the sense that he’ll be just fine, albeit with a slightly mangled face, comes back to me and I sigh with relief.

  Good, I won't get tried for murder.

  I decide to heal him up a bit, and am instantly surprised myself with how little damage I actually managed to do. Of course, I know that the Health pool isn’t the be all, end all of how healthy a person is.

  A dagger to the throat—if it manages to pierce deep enough—was lethal to everyone. And as I just demonstrated, a blow to the head—if it’s strong enough—could knock anyone out. The System doesn’t remove natural weaknesses, just makes them harder to abuse.

  Still, after healing him up, I grin with glee at the result. His face is scarred and slightly misshapen, but not drastically so. He could still be handsome, just in a very, very rugged way.

  He’ll hate it.

  When I’m done, I finally stand. It’s not exactly a good look to be seen straddling someone for so long like this, so I try to make my rise as graceful as possible despite my exhaustion.

  I smile at how easy it is, happy with how amazing my healing is. Every injury I'd sustained is gone, not even a twinge of discomfort left to remind me of them.

  Grabbing the top of his breastplate, I lift and start to drag him over to Guild Master Folly. He watches me like a hawk as I approach, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

  I didn’t realize how quiet it was until the silence is broken when Cari cheers and whoops loudly. Then the silence is shattered entirely as the rest of the crowd immediately follows, erupting into applause and raucous roars of congratulations. Many are Delvers, and some bang their weapons together, or against their shields or armor, making even more noise.

  Embarrassment and pride swell in my chest, new warmth finding its way to my cheeks. I’d never been cheered on before, so this is… new. I find that I kind of enjoy the attention, now that it’s the exact opposite of what I’d endured my whole life.

  By the time I reach the Guild Master, his look has changed to one of exasperation. I drop Darius unceremoniously at his feet before meeting his gaze.

  “So, do I pass?” I ask.

  I’m almost surprised when my voice comes out crisp and confident, not a trace of my inner exhaustion to be heard.

  Charisma saving my ass, once again.