Sparring

The massive dorm that housed all the combatants truly was luxurious. Aside from 128 very spacious guest rooms, it sported a huge dining hall, an indoor swimming pool and a large training facility. Numerous shops, selling various combat gear where also present. Not to mention a casino. Frankly, given the fact that about half of the combatants would leave by tomorrow it felt absurdly wasteful.

I was considering using my new funds to buy some better armor, or more high quality dirks, but ultimately dismissed it. Changing what I’m comfortable with might do me more harm then good.

And so I made my way to the training center, planning to get some light exercise in before dinner.

At this point it was two in the afternoon, meaning roughly a third of today's fights should have concluded. As expected, the area was fairly deserted, with only a handful of fighters honing their craft.

I decided to train by myself and do a few quick repetitions. It would be nice to have a sparring partner, but since my skill revolves around quick kills, that was simply not feasible.

My concentration was broken when a familiar face appeared on the massive screens that where plastered all over the walls of the training hall.

It seemed absurd to even have magic vision in a training hall in the first place. How are you supposed to concentrate with all that noise? The designer of this dorm clearly thought otherwise. And so I was inevitable drawn to the spectacle on screen.

“Third Fight of Bracket D! Speed Sylphid vs Quick Draw Mary!”

Sylphid was standing there in a very relaxed manner, in stark contrast to her opponent. The young woman in a cowgirl outfit had two pistols cocked and ready and was staring at the fist fighter intensely.

Bringing pistols feels a bit like cheating to me, but I'm sure unarmed fighters would say the same about my dirks.

No matter how fast Sylphid was, she was still human. From what I could tell there was no magic enhancement on her either. That means a well placed bullet could absolutely kill her. And there was no rule against taking aim before the battle starts, which was exactly what the gunslinger did. In other words Mary merely needed to pull the trigger

“Fight!”

It happened in an instant.

Sylphid boldly dashed towards Mary, while the gunslinger shot. I could tell that she was aiming for a body shot. That would not be an instant kill but that wasn't needed either. Playing it safe was clearly the best choice. With two pistols Mary got six shots of before Sylphid even closed the distance.

Then Sylphid did reach her and knocked the guns out of her hand.

Did Mary miss? No! All six bullets struck true. Two pierced the arms with which Sylphid was shielding her vitals and four hit her body proper. A lesser being would have dropped dead or at least be screaming on the ground by now. Not Sylphid. She slammed Mary in the sandy ground of the arena and started punching her.

Still, the huge amount of blood that was gushing out of these bullet wounds made it pretty evident that the shots where fatal. I surmised that Sylphid would have about three Minutes left to life before the blood loss would do her in. Unfortunately for Mary, that would be plenty to crush the gunslingers windpipe.

But Sylphid did no such thing!

Instead, she took one of Mary's discarded pistols aimed at her chest and pulled the trigger. Mary screamed in terror and fear. Sylphid then raised her fist and...

It was a gruesome scene, I was ashamed but I had to avert my eyes.

“I surrender! Stop! Stop!”, I could hear the sobbing, hysterical voice, that was right away followed by loud cheers. Sylphid was raising a bloodstained fist to the sky while she was holding Mary with the other in a mockery of comfort.

The gunslinger was healed almost instantly but the split second in which I saw her bloodied figure still made my stomach churn.

Nobody surrenders intentionally(well, except a certain catgirl) In how much pain must Mary have been to not endure a few minutes of this?

This was the first time I came face to face with the truly gruesome nature of the tournament. The later rounds would add another rule to make surrenders more humane but at least as far as the preliminaries were concerned, brutal **** was the fate any combatant must prepare themselves for.

“Well, well, if It isn't my favorite little slaveboy.”

The obnoxiously sweet voice snapped me out of my stupor.

My least favorite not so little witch, Beatrice, stood there looking at me with her usual smug grin. “Checking out the competition? Smart move.” The witch glanced at the screen where Sylphid was still showered in cheers. Her battle was over in less then two minutes and Ben was doing an interview. I suppose there was no hurry to teleport her out of the arena

“I heard you somehow survived the first round? Good boy.”, she cooed.

“So I did”, I answered curtly. "What do you want? The mage gym is a door over."

"The mage gym...?", for a fraction of a section, the witch looked at me aghast. "You think I am here for TRAINING?"

"...yes?"

" You believe that I, Beatrice, the great witch of Miracles and future champion of the arena am in need of training! My! I knew you Helmanians are not exactly know for the part between your ears but the rumors clearly did not do you justice! Training! How amusing! How droll!"

...

"Yeah well, if you would excuse me, because I am in the middle of training.”

But again, Beatrice was not someone who cared what others wanted.

"I am pleased to hear that. It would be troublesome if you got conceited for beating that cat. A child would have been able to accomplish that. In fact, a child would have made less of a clumsy showing then you did.”

Geez, don’t praise me too much.

“She, on the other hand, is one of the dangerous ones”, the witch said, gesturing towards the screen. “Sylphid will easily make it to the finals, so I suppose I can not fault you for checking her out. “Still...” Beatrice smirked. “Are you not getting a little bit ahead of yourself?”

“Yes, yes”, I said, rolling my eyes. “You are the great and invincible Beatrice and I will never make it past you in the third round.”

“I am most pleased that you recognized that.” Beatrice gave a curtsy. “But I was more referring to your next opponent. Have you researched her?”

"Not yet", I was **** to admit. Granted, that might have been negligent, but in my defense, I was a bit occupied with suddenly having a catgirl ****. “I hadn’t had time to check the fights yet.”

“What are you wasting your time here then? Honestly...” Beatrice let out a sigh that managed to be both exasperated and condescending. “Let me put it in terms a country bumpkin like you can understand: The Huntress will smoke you.”

"The Huntress?", I rolled my eyes. "Ben really likes his grandiose names, doesn't he?"

"Oh, that one's not on him", Beatrice cackled. “They call her Cassandra, the huntress. A 5 times veteran who never made it past the third round.”

“That doesn't sound too impressive”, I scoffed.

“Oh?” The witch cackled some more. “Riddle me this then, why do you think she never made it further?”

As little interest as I had playing the witches guessing games, this could be valuable intel.

“Is she like Sylphid? Too obsessed with getting her opponent to submit?”

“I suppose I will give you fifty points for that answer.” Beatrice smirked. “But unlike Sylphid she never got disqualified.”

Huh? I frowned. “So, she lost after all?”

“Once. She has a 7:1 win ratio.”

This made absolutely no sense. “But then...how?”

Beatrice milked my dumbfounded reaction to the fullest extend. “She is a no show! Cassandra preys on weak fighters, enemies she 100 percent knows she can defeat. And after the second round at the latest she drops out.”

Being a Lucky Loser, I was of course well aware of the right to forfeit that everyone else enjoys, but even so. “Don't you at least need a good reason to drop out?”

“You would think so, right?”, the witch sighed theatrically. “But alas, such a rule would greatly inconvenience certain people.” She gave me a mysterious grin that I couldn't really interpret. “So no show is perfectly acceptable. Suffice to say, Cassandra makes more then enough money like this. Especially with the slaves she sells.”

This just got worse and worse. “She is a slaver?”

Beatrice appeared greatly amused by my revulsion. “Well, most participants are, but most of them view it as a nice bonus. Cassandra considers it her main income. She strips slaves of all of their possessions and then sells them at the underground markets. Of course with “possession” I am also referring to your little kitty.”

Giving Aiju that order to flee certainly proved a wise decision. Still, as long as I wouldn't surrender that should not be an issue.

“You are probably already aware, but fights in the second round lasts for 20 minutes”, the witch helpfully explained. Once again, I couldn’t help but suspect that she reads my mind. “I don't think you realize just how long that is until you spend them in pure agony.”

Great, yet another attempt at intimidation. “Thanks for the warning, but I will be fine.”

“No, you will not. “Beatrice heaved another sigh that set her huge boobs to jiggle. “Even ignoring her general superiority, Cassandra is rumored to have connections to some unsavory individuals. You might be in for one or two nasty surprises tomorrow.”

For a moment I wasn’t sure I truly understood what Beatrice was saying here. “Are you trying to tell me the matches are fixed?”

“Just a rumor”, Beatrice answered with a sweet smile. “But it is a fact that Cassandra positioning in the prior tournaments could certainly have been called...advantageous. Same as this year. Her first opponent was a nobody, then her second would either be the cat or...you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. No, hold it. I can’t be taking in by this witch’s gossip. “And how do you know all of this?”

Why, I am Cassandra’s long lost sister!”, the witch looked at my flabbergasted expression and cackled. “That was a joke! I am a witch, you know. I have my sources. Anyways, the bottom line is that with the odds so stacked against you, I felt it only fair to provide you with a little help to even the playing field.”

Well, that's not ominous at all. “Help?”

Beatrice gingerly procured a small black box from her pouch and offered it to me. “Open this in the arena and Cassandra will soon learn how insignificant her parlor tricks are in the face of true power!”

I instantly refused. “Yeah, maybe try that next time without cackling like an evil hold hag.”

“C-cackling?”, Beatrice appeared genuinely shocked. “That was a delicate giggle, you uncouth lout!”, the witch huffed. “Just stop complaining and take it already!”

My parents didn’t teach me a lot but they did teach me to not accept mysterious black boxes from cackling witches. “I appreciate the offer(not really), but I have no intention to resort to cheating.”

That got another cackle out of the witch. “Cheating? Are you daft? Per the rules, all items are allowed, even one as high class as this.”

True enough, as long as it fits in the teleporter and isn't organic matter you can bring with you whatever you want. And in order to achieve my goal I did not have the luxury to entertain moral quandaries. Still. “What do you get out of this? Why would you help me like that?”

“Why? Because I obviously want you for myself. And while I probably could just buy you from Cassandra...we can't rule out the very small possibility that she screws up and just kills you outright, now can we?”

“How comforting.”

Beatrice shrugged. “If you want a more nobler cause, think how many people have been sold into slavery because of Cassandra? And how many more will be? There is no way she will face me, so you are the only chance we have to bring her to justice.”

I don't see myself as a champion of justice and I certainly don't have a savior complex. But even so, what that Huntress does is vile. And if these rumors about fixed matches are true... Hesitantly and very carefully I took the box. “What exactly is it?”

The witch apparently found my suspicion highly amusing. “Don't worry your pretty little head over it. Oh, and don't open it early. It is sealed for a reason.”

Yeah, right. With my luck this was a bomb and Beatrice simply hoped to take me and Cassandra out at the same time. “I have no intention of using this.”

Beatrice was not impressed. “Of course. That is what they all say at first. Feel free to throw it away then. I am looking forward on how this “fight” of yours plays out without it.”

I should. I should throw it away, preferably in Beatrice's face. But for some reason I couldn't bring myself to it. Was Cassandra indeed fighting fixed matches? In that case it would be foolish to throw away my only safety net. At the very least I can wait with this decision just before I enter the arena again tomorrow.

There was no way of getting any more training down with the witch stalking me and so I excused myself. Not wanting to go back just yet, I wandered the dorm a bit taking in the sights before purchasing some food on my way back my room.

Hopefully Aiju was still asleep.