The First Harem Tournament 26 – Ragebaiting and Iterating [Beatrice POV]

Enemy: Metra.

Environment: Temperate Forest.

Engagement Style: Tournament.

Victory Condition: Surrender or Fateweaving Trigger.

Chance of Success: 5% Estimated.

Time Preference Analysis: Is this fight preferable to spending 5 more minutes in the office? Emotional answer: yes. Why? Because she liked fighting. Even fighting to lose? 1 in 20 was acceptable odds to attempt victory.

“Against Ehtra, I was happy to use Rex Magnar.” Metra weighed her halberd in one hand, before casting it aside. “You don’t exactly have an Astrotium sword though, cog girl.”

“Retort: there are no cogs in my physical form.”

“Your Class is called Clockwork Knight.”

“Yours is Wrathguard, yet you are not made of guards.” Beatrice held her battle ready position, the trees rising taller and taller around them. “Addendum: you are poorly optimized for guard work in general. The Focus name is misleading.”

“…I swear to fuck, if I didn’t love you, I would rip your head off for how annoying you are,” Metra growled.

“Offer: if it makes you feel better, you may do so. I will grow a new one.”

“You… URGH!” CRACK! Metra ripped a branch off a nearby pine tree, then proceeded to tear its twigs and forks away until a reasonably straight ‘spear’ remained. “Let me guide you to the afterlife, Bae.”

“Refusal: I don’t have time to die; I am too busy.”

Chance of Success: 15% Estimated.

“Three! Two! One! FIGHT!”

‘Engagement 1 initialized. Prioritize reactivity. Hold back on counterattacks until further intel is gathered.’ Beatrice’s mind raced, etching the instructions into the circuitry of her decision making.

As predicted, Metra could not even hesitate crossing the divide. Powered by rage, she scattered the soil where she launched. A shockwave rippled through the forest, the broken sound barrier booming in Beatrice’s ears a moment after the fully armoured blonde’s arrival.

Unsteady Limb joined with the passive maid’s considerable Agility to let her not just react to but redirect the force of the strike. For all of her absurd Stat increases, even the maximum increase of 300% merely pushed Metra’s Agility to about 4000. Beatrice’s own Agility, all bonuses considered, exceeded the First of Wrath’s by several hundred.

Baelementium bent under the impact. Reinforced by the hands that held it, the branch remained rigid, then glided down the angled shaft. Metra’s airborne body tilted along the motion. “Mockery: you are-“ Beatrice’s words came to a sudden stop, a hand rammed through a portal Ripping back her hair. The clockwork maid stumbled back two steps. “HEY! My ponytail is for Master to pull!”

“HAH! Made you shout!” Metra declared, fully back on her feet. “Whatever else happens, I claim victory!”

Beatrice suppressed the growl rising from her core. Had it not been a Harmonia, perhaps her own obsessive side would have managed to slip out.

‘Engagement 2 initialized. Prioritize reactivity. Hold back on counterattacks until further intel is gathered.” Beatrice held onto her self-actualizing directives.

Metra held her spear at a low angle and began to circle around the white-horned maid. “I know what you’re doing,” the Breaker of Armies growled quietly. “Running your little fucking algorithms, trying to iterate your way to the best outcome. I won’t make it that easy for you, dishwasher.”

“Retort: ‘dishwasher’ is no insult to maid, lapdog.” The servant took a short pause. “Notice how that has no bite?”

“How can someone as boring as you bark this much?”

“Ideation: perhaps because this fight bores me?”

Metra snapped forward. What began as a stab suddenly turned into a stomp aimed squarely at Beatrice’s foot. The passive maid’s toes pulled out of reach. An attempt to pull further away was undone by Metra forcing the lay of space itself into a chaotic wrinkle.

Beatrice had anticipated this exchange. Draconic wings manifested from her bare back. With them came an electric surge, allowing her to transform into a lightning bolt that arced around the spear thrust at her abdomen. She consolidated in the air above.

Every fight was a flowchart. Actions had optimal reactions, to which there were optimal reactions, to which there were optimal reactions. This continued until one side ran out of resources or the will to fight. That was the plain truth, adjusted only by the variance introduced by imperfect information, feints and personal preferences.

On that flowchart, Beatrice’s lightning dash was necessarily followed by-

Beatrice hurriedly beat her wings, narrowly escaping the flying spear. The weapon continued upwards, ending up in Metra’s hand as she dropped out of the Tear she had just opened. Enveloped by yellow-red Ragefire, she turned the spear around and threw it at Beatrice yet again. Unwilling to spend her Reverse to dodge with Twist Position, the dragon maid accepted the wooden stake driving into her left shoulder.

Metra dropped after her weapon. Beatrice hovered just out of reach and swung her spear in a Sundering arch. Anti-armour magic reinforced the strike, the Baelementium drawing a visible trench across the surface of the segmented Astrotium plate.

The wolf woman landed on the ground, squatting down. The trench flowed shut, as did the hole in Beatrice’s shoulder. She threw that weapon at Metra’s head, only for it to be caught and snapped in two. “Let’s mix this up!” Metra laughed, anger and mirth resonating fluidly as she twirled the pair of sticks-turned-batons in her hands.

‘Internal complaint: data-compromising bitch,’ Beatrice thought as she settled on the ground. ‘Consideration: victor of engagement is inconclusive. Regenerative match favours Metra. Change strategy. Engagement 3 initialized. Overwhelm with sudden aggression.’

Beatrice crossed the distance between them, then activated her Needle Assault. Agility skyrocketed, Strength collapsed and 125 strikes rained down on Metra in a near instant. Individually harmless, they bounced off Metra’s armour. Even combined they did little more than force Metra back a step.

A regular stab followed, then she spun around her own axis and lashed Metra with her dragon tail. The First of Wrath remained on the backfoot, though all of the attacks continued to be inconveniences to her. Beatrice had two factors that allowed her to challenge the Imperial Choir’s foremost duellist: speed and cold calculations.

Metra’s heel found a rock firm enough to support her pressing forwards. Dual weapons caught Beatrice’s spear between them. The front of Metra’s helmet suddenly and violently opened up into a black, wolfish maw. Beatrice held onto her resources and simply let the wolf woman’s teeth rip the spear from her hands. It flew up high and behind the Breaker of Armies.

Simultaneously, a halo of electricity flared into existence behind Beatrice’s head.

She clenched her open hand into a fist.

Time curled into a controlled loop.

The Pendulum Stopped. 15 Reverse had been spent. 15 tries were granted to her. First, the world froze entirely. Three seconds of her perception. In the held moment, only Beatrice’s mind existed. Only her eyes were allowed to move – a rule adjusted by the crackling halo of her Monster Form.

The spear moved. In this frozen blink, the metal object moved according to Beatrice’s magnetic will. Simultaneously, perfected the intel she had on Metra. The position of her feet, the lowering of her chin, the beginning parting of her arms – it all indicated that she was about to tackle Beatrice.

Frozen time continued, the loop began.

Beatrice was immediately reminded that the First of Wrath was a freak of nature.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking back blindly, hitting the spear before it could pierce her back. Beatrice’s fist headed for the wolf-eared warrior’s face, only for her arm to be caught in the teeth of the beast.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking back blindly, hitting the spear before it could pierce her back. Beatrice’s fist had to keep moving. It was the Repeated Swing, in it bound the Sunder that was being iterated on. She aimed for Metra’s shoulder next, only for the First of Wrath to sink her hand into a portal and seize Beatrice by the wrist.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking back blindly, hitting the spear that had stopped heading for her back. Beatrice’s fist headed for Metra’s shoulder, narrowly moving under the Ripping hand emerging from the portal. The impact cracked the metal, but did not shatter it.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking back blindly, slamming the sole of her foot into the spear’s tip. Beatrice’s fist headed for the wolf-eared warrior’s face. The yank of magnetism on the embedded spear was almost enough to keep her from ripping around her head and biting Beatrice’s arm. Almost.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking back blindly, hitting the spear before it could pierce her back. She dropped into a ready stance, staring at the passive maid. “What’s the hold-up?!”

“I’m thinking,” Beatrice responded, useless as that was.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking back blindly, hitting the spear at the exact angle required to send it almost perfectly vertically into the air. Beatrice’s fist headed for the armoured berserker’s stomach, moving beneath the Ripping hand by a comfortable margin. Before her fist could make contact, foreheads slammed together.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking back blindly. The spear flew as Beatrice wanted. Beatrice’s fist headed for the wolf-eared warrior’s face, accelerated by half a metre by Unsteady Limb, using the Swing regenerated in the Pendulum Stop. The impact was solid but dissatisfying. Imperfection was unacceptable.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking the spear as Beatrice desired. Beatrice’s fist headed for the wolf-eared warrior’s face, accelerated by ten centimetres by Unsteady Limb, only for her arm to be caught in the teeth of the beast.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking the spear as Beatrice desired. Beatrice whipped her tail in the direction of the wolf-eared warrior. The feint was ignored for what it was.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking the spear as Beatrice desired. Beatrice moved a foot back rapidly using Unsteady Limb. Her fist headed towards Metra’s chin. The Ripping hand came from a different portal than before, new stimuli leading to new angles. Beatrice’s arm was seized.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking the spear as Beatrice desired. Beatrice moved a foot back rapidly using Unsteady Limb. Her fist headed towards Metra’s chin, swinging under the Ripping hand, then striking with moderate force. Not good enough. Too fast.

“LETS DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking the spear as Beatrice desired. Foot back. Beatrice held the position for a moment, letting her muscles coil properly for the motion. Her fist headed towards Metra’s chin, swinging under the Ripping hand. The maw of the beast was ready and waiting for her.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking the spear as Beatrice desired. Foot back. Position held. Fist heading towards Metra’s chin. She swung under the Ripping hand. Her digits uncurled and gripped the Astrotium teeth. She tore down. Insufficient.

“LET’S DANCE!” Metra roared, kicking the spear as Beatrice desired. Foot back, using less Swing. Beatrice held the position for a moment, preparing herself for a different finale. She swung under the Ripping hand. She grasped the Astrotium teeth. Saved Swing added more power to the Sunder.

Metra’s jaw was ripped clean off.

Beatrice’s own maw opened wide, unleashing a torrent of electricity. The dragon breath ended pre-emptively, the maid herself turning into a lightning strike that arced upwards. In her place remained a Time Phantom, a copy of her with the singular instruction to stab at her enemies. In absence of a spear, it used its tail.

Metra leaned to the side on sheer instinct. Above her Beatrice manifested again. The Baelementium spear stopped spinning, suddenly snapping to the passive maid’s hand. Metra realized she was facing a mere phantom. Her head whirled around.

Too late.

With an impact like a thunderclap, Beatrice slammed into Metra’s back. Her spear Sundered armour once more, sinking a hand’s width deep into the warrior woman’s spine.

Beatrice prepared herself for the counterattack, when she heard laughter in her mind. Wrath and joy mixed so easily for this tomboy. Honour decreed that the breaking of the mutual mental barrier could only mean one thing.

Stepping off, Beatrice let the First of Wrath pick her expensive jaw off the floor. “Ihll gifff-“ Metra began, then stopped when the perfectionist chopped her on the forehead. Beatrice squatted down in front of her opponent and righted her jaw. Only then was the blonde allowed to continue. “I’ll give you this one, Bae.”

“Tease: you mean to say that I dominated you and you surrender.”

“Take the highroad,” Metra grunted. They both knew that Beatrice’s chances to win a continuation of the fight were not exactly stellar. Her Reverse was spent. Though she could build it up again quite fast, Metra was not going to make it easy for her. The Monster Form would only stay for a minute as well. “How many tries did you need?”

“13.”

“Man, I am good.” Metra got up, the armour disappearing segment by segment. “Any first orders you have for me, mistress?” the tomboy asked with a wide grin.

“Denial: Orders will be given by Master.” Beatrice turned her gaze to the balcony, where John was watching them. What servant would she be if she did not offer her spoils to the most perfect man to ever exist? A wanton, loving sigh escaped her. Truly, she was blessed to be in his service.

It made for many an entertaining memory.