Second World Novel

The two contestants stood opposite one another in the arena. The draconian, Arthur, was carrying a long katana which was still housed inside its scabbard hanging on his left waist. The orc, Sharpedge, carried a very large greatsword on his back.

"Begin!" Pallas announced.

Arthur got into a low position as his right hand rested on his katana hilt. His pose reminded Jack of the samurais from the movies. Sharpedge took his greatsword from his back and got into a ready position with the large sword facing forward.

Sharpedge took one step forward. Arthur stayed his ground, his eyes stared intensely at his opponents.

"Not pulling your sword?" Sharpedge asked.

Arthur didn't reply.

Sharpedge didn't speak anymore as well. He took a few steps slowly, enclosing little by little.

"Well, this is a change of pace," Paytowin said from the spectator seats. "All this time, everyone just started battering each other once the match starts."

"It was no less intense, though," Jack said.

On the arena, Sharpedge continued to step forward slowly while Arthur never moved a step. When he was roughly three meters away, Sharpedge pulled his greatsword into a thrusting pose and thrust in a swift motion. His unusually large greatsword was almost two meters long. That one thrust easily covered the distance.

There was a light show accompanying the thrust, showing it was a non-standard thrusting skill.

Yet, the thrust hit only air. Arthur had made a small jump to the side, dodging the thrust, before he made a large step forward. He zoomed forward with the thrusting blade of the greatsword just an inch to his side. All this while, his katana was still in its scabbard.

When their bodies almost touched each other, Arthur pulled his katana. His hand didn't seem to move much, but the katana had swiftly drawn out from its scabbard and sliced across Sharpedge's belly in an instant. A curved flash accompanied the slash. Sharpedge's HP was down to less than one quarter after that one slash.

"Iaido!" Paytowin exclaimed.

"That's not the most surprising thing," Jack uttered. "He had just used mana manipulation with the slash."

Sharpedge was greatly shocked by how much HP he lost from that one slash. He was an Avenger who had a large HP pool and high defense. The slash just now also didn't feel like a skill. How could a normal slash cause such high damage?

While Sharpedge was feeling both pain and shock from the slash, Arthur made a fast turn. His hand was now gripping the katana hilt with a backhand grip. The katana swooped down vertically with a backhand slash, accurately cutting through Sharpedge's neck.

This second slash caused critical damage, Sharpedge was also so shocked that he forgot to activate Last Stand. But even if the slash was not critical and even if Sharpedge used Last Stand, Jack suspected the match would still end with that second slash.

Sharpedge fell to the floor.

'Who is he?' Jack thought. Only two standard slashes. This guy was no less intimidating than the heavenly enforcers. Jack used Inspect on the draconian. No, no guild tag.

Although the draconian aspects made it difficult for one to estimate age, there were some wrinkles in the placements of the scales. That made Jack suspect this Arthur was an elderly person.

'A master,' he thought. 'A swordmaster.'

Maybe his grandfather knew this person? But since the old man was not here, Jack couldn't ask. He looked around and saw Jet in the spectator seats. Jack went over to the dwarf audience section while Pallas announced Arthus as the victor.

"Where are you going?" Paytowin asked.

"Be back soon," Jack replied.

The dwarfs were bewildered seeing a human suddenly come over to their side. Jack just went ahead and sat beside Jet.

"What do you want, Jack boy?" Jet asked.

"So cold. I remembered you used to always treat me with a smile," Jack replied.

"We are opponents in the next match. Once you lose, you will see me all smiles again," Jet said.

"You are the one doing the losing," Jack retorted. "Anyway, do you know that draconian?"

"Yeah."

"Really? Who is he?"

"Arthur Bagrat."

"…"

Jet, seeing Jack's expression, uttered, "Wait, you don't know who Arthur Bagrat is?"

"If I have known, I wouldn't have asked now, would I?" Jack replied. "From your tone, it seems like he is a famous person?"

"You bet he is. He is the world's number one swordmaster," Jet answered.

"Wow. If you say it like that, he must be very good then. I guess he is one generation with you and my gramps?"

"He is. He used to come to challenge your grandfather in our younger days."

"Really? How did the challenge go?"

"Challenges. Let's just put it this way. If your grandfather uses any other weapon outside of a sword, Domon thrashes him. But when Domon uses a sword, it is Arthur who thrashes Domon."

"Really?!" Jack exclaimed in surprise.

"Well, thrashes might be too strong a word. Let's just say, if it is swords against swords, two out of three matches, Arthur will win."

"Knowing my grandfather, that is still impressive. Is he that good that he becomes better if his opponent uses a sword?"

"Not that he becomes better. He is just too familiar with a sword that he can easily predict what his opponent is going to do with it. Any subtle movement and he can already tell whether it's a thrust, a slash, a backhand slash, the sword's reach, and what angle that sword will be coming. The moment I saw that opponent of his just now carrying that oversized greatsword, I know already the result of this match."

"Hm…," Jack glanced at Jeanny. 'It's going to be a tough call,' he thought.

"Is you or my grandfather's relationship good with him? Good enough to ask for a favor?" Jack asked.

"We can't exactly call him friend, but we are not adversary as well. Let's just say we are martial arts rivals who used each other to push ourselves to a higher level. What favor do you want from him? Do you want him to teach you sword art? He didn't do favors. He is that lone warrior shit kind of guy."

"Never mind then," Jack muttered. Guess it would be a long shot if he asked Arthur to forfeit his prize if he won.

"Anyway, what is your strategy to deal with your next match, the human team?" Jack asked the old dwarf.

"Our strategy is…," Jet stopped abruptly, he then turned to Jack and shoved him away, "get the hell away from here! You think you can trick me like this? Very sly, Jack boy, coming to me pretending to ask about that old master."

"I'm truly interested in him," Jack shrugged as he stood and walked back to his seat next to Paytowin.

Arthur and Sharpedge had left the arena and Pallas was calling for the next contestants to come down as the words in the sky transformed.

*

Warrior Section Match 3

Boastful, level 46 Berserker (ethereal) Vs Surewin, level 46 Blade Dancer (orc)

*

"Crap!" Jack uttered after seeing the words. "Looking at their aliases, they are practically made for each other."

Boastful was a man ethereal while Surewin was a woman orc.

Boastful started speaking once he stood in the arena, "I like your name. Whatever our match's result, how about spending some time together after this?"

"I will think about it once I put you down," Surewin replied.

"All right, it's a date!" Boastful uttered.

"Shit, they even started courting one another," Jack facepalmed.

Boastful brandished his large two-handed axe while Surewin readied her two swords. Pallas gave the command to begin. The two opponents rushed at one another.

Surprisingly, none of the two used any skills. Their weapons started clashing. The two went back and forth as they fought. The two were decent martial artists. Not overly expert, but still good enough.

"You are not bad," Surewin said in the middle of the fight.

"You too, I'm impressed. We have truly got to hang out after this," Boastful replied.

Little by little, the two's exchanges started to look choreographed. There were times when the blow should have hit but the strike swerved away. It's like the two intentionally prolonged the fight. The spectators felt like they were watching a dance instead of a fight to the death.

"The f*ck is this match turning into?" Jack commented.

"Um, they better stop that soon," Paytowin said. He was looking at Pallas, the divine champion's face was scowling. "Both of them will get into trouble if not."

Pallas' patience didn't last long. He stomped his foot on the floor, cracking the floor and creating a tremor. "The hell are the two of you doing?!" His voice boomed.

The two were stunned by Pallas' outrage. Surewin snapped out first and did a low slash at Boastful's legs. Boastful lost balance as Surewin activated Phantom Blade before executing Penta Slash.

The high damaging single-target skill combined with Phantom Blade which doubled the hit rate, claimed Boastful's life when he was still not sure what had happened.

The match ended and Boastful came to life. The ethereal turned to Surewin and said, "That is underhanded… but I like it!"

"Still want to hang out?" Surewin asked.

"I am afraid you never ask," Boastful replied.

Instead of going back to their seats, the two walked off to another part of the garden.. The spectators looked at the two going away, not sure how to feel about the scene.