The Path of Ascension: A LitRPG Adventure, page 38
The guild seemed to only be admitting the strongest examples of each Tier from the factions they had power over. As part of the Empire’s Path of Ascension, Matt and Liz were exempt from their scrutiny. They watched with muted interest as a few groups were turned away.
When the bottom level of their ship was getting crowded, the Tier 25 stepped into the air so all could see him.
“I’m not one for speeches. Tonight, is a night of trade and combat. Draw from that whatever conclusions you may. Don’t deliberately kill. Any deaths will be judged by the other faction. So, expect any hostile actions to be returned.”
With that, he dropped, and the ship started moving.
Matt looked to Liz, who played with Aster’s paws.
“That was…ugh. Brief?”
Elizabeth didn’t look away from the game with Aster. “Eh, pretty standard from what I understand. Usually, we’d get a speech that lasted far too long about everyone and their mother’s importance. I liked his comment about conclusions, though. What do you take from this?”
Matt thought it over. There was something to be said about two massive political entities interacting like this with rules so vague.
“I think it’s a comment about how power gets you more.” He paused and continued after settling his thoughts, “If you have power, you can take from others, but the inverse is true as well. Also, there is only justice when two people have a strong backing or are equally powerful.”
Matt looked out at the match to their ship.
“Maybe that’s the more important point.”
Liz nodded and hummed before saying, “Not a bad answer. Better than my first Exchange. Remember this, though…” Her voice changed, like she was quoting someone else, “perceived power and actual power are nearly indistinguishable at higher Tiers. That’s why the children fight. Powers and talents are clearer and show the future of a country.”
In her normal voice, she said, “The other Empires are all nearly the same size as each other. Each is so big they don’t really need to trade resources or technology. So, to keep things from becoming insular, we have the Exchanges. At these Tiers, it’s practice, and no one takes them seriously. From Tier 15 to Tier 25, the stakes get higher. New planets can be won or lost in a single fight.
“Also, watch your own faction as much as the enemies.” Liz pursed her lips and looked up. “Yeah, I think that’s all even my parents said about these things.”
“How many have you been to? What can we expect?”
Liz shrugged. “No clue, really. I’ve only been to one as an observer. It was my brother’s first Exchange at Tier 15, so the family went to cheer him on. I was, ohh, seven, I think.”
Matt gave her a flat look.
“You just enjoy sounding knowledgeable and wise.”
She beamed at him. “You’re figuring it out!”
With that, Matt accessed the LocalNet and found more concise information. It was fairly simple in concept.
Both sides could put their skill shards into a shared database and list themselves as selling or exchanging. The sellers would take cash or another skill they thought was more valuable. The exchange was generally reserved for more valuable skills. People would come to you with the listed price.
Seeing that, Matt listed their skill [Puddle Jumper] as an exchange for both [Create Water] and [Mage’s Retreat]. That settled, he was directed to deposit the skill at the Exchange desk.
While it could be done in person, Matt decided to take the anonymous route. He didn’t agree with Liz’s notion his chosen route was cowardice. If she had placed her bids anonymously, she wouldn’t have had to deal with that idiot Daimian playing games with the price. Or the subsequent fight, for that matter.
If someone decided to target them and their skill, they could purchase all the skills they wanted to screw them over. Matt refused to take the chance. He needed the power the skill would grant him, and so did Liz.
As he sat back, he observed the two approaching platforms. The three levels of the individual boats were rectangles that would come together and make a square. Inside was a six-layer box with a cylinder from top to bottom.
The cylinder was where the arenas were. It gave everyone who watched an excellent view of the fights. Seven arenas were arranged in a heptagon with the top arena bisected. It truly did look grand.
As the sides neared, Matt saw the faces of the republic’s cultivators watching and observing the Empire.
He saw some with hands on weapons, seemingly ready to jump into action at a moment's notice. Others seemed more calculating, and Matt saw the flash of a few unknown spells.
When the ships touched, and the snapping of clamps locking into place quieted, Driver, the Tier 25, stepped onto a see-through platform over the center of the fighting circle. A woman in a robe mirrored his actions, and their sitting down signaled both sides to break out in a clamor.
Liz looked to him and asked, “Who do you think will get challenged first? I’m thinking some dumbass will challenge you because they saw my smackdown yesterday.”
Matt thought over the odds and chances and said, “That’s likely, sure, but you made a large enough impression that someone might want to beat you to earn their fame.”
They got up and moved to a newly placed standing table, each snagging a drink from a passing waiter.
They had a decent view of the arenas as they sipped. The show started quickly.
Someone in Dual Stars colors jumped into one of the circles and shouted, “I am Yan of the Dual Stars, Tier 5. I welcome any challengers brave enough to step up.” He kept his eyes locked firmly on the republic side, his intentions clear.
His provocation worked as five people jumped down.
Matt looked up to the platform with the Tier 25s. They weren’t even looking down, just sipping their drinks quietly. Were they not worried about this escalating into an incident?
The fight was already starting when Matt looked back. Before he could get a good look, Liz just huffed and pulled him away from the table.
“Where are we going? I thought we wanted to fight.”
“Pshhh, it’s just going to be weak fools who think they’re the best fighting now. The Dual Stars played their hand well. Now, the fights will be useless for at least an hour. After that, it'll get interesting. Especially with the rewards they posted.”
Matt hadn’t seen any rewards, so he checked the LocalNet. The Dual Stars were co-hosting the event with the republic faction called The Deserving. They had a point system for both the crafting and fighting cultivators.
The LocalNet spelled out a point system for fights and how they were won. The stronger the opinion, the more points you could get if you won. The prizes were vague, only that the top five would get access to what they needed.
He wasn’t sure if that meant weapons or skills, but it was an enticing reward. He needed a lot.
His hopes were dashed when he saw there was no Ascenders board, just a mixed board. Matt was confident in his strength with people of his Tier, but the elite who had wealth or backing would have skills and good gear. That realization shook his confidence in being able to counter everything they did.
Putting aside his daydreams of wealth, he looked at the tailor’s booth Liz perused.
Seeing nothing he thought was interesting, he wandered to the next store where he found colorful bands that would act as covers for beast collars. Calling Aster, they tried on bands until Liz found them, and the two of them watched as Aster tried each and every color she liked.
They settled on a dark purple Aster simply wouldn’t let them take off.
She preened with the new garment and kept showing it off to the shops they visited.
They came upon an alchemists’ tournament, where they watched Tier 5 alchemists battle it out, concocting mixtures Matt knew nothing about. Liz understood some and narrated what a few of the contestants were doing.
When the winner of the round was decided, Liz vehemently disagreed with the decision, along with a sizable portion of the crowd. He ended up having to pull her along before they got caught up watching the unfolding drama.
They found a blacksmith who had a longsword Matt was interested in buying, but the smith was trying to sell at an outrageous price, so he and Liz walked out on the deal.
While a new sword would be nice, he wasn’t going to pay the price of an expensive Tier 5 weapon for a standard Tier 4 sword.
They were back at the arena when Matt decided to place his name in the longsword melee category. Watching the fights was getting his blood humming, and he wanted to see how he matched up against others.
He was called up a few minutes later when an arena was free. A mage cast a spell to blunt the fighters’ blades as this was a test of ability not a true fight with skills.
His opponent was a large woman, almost his own height. Her longsword was a heavier variant than his own, which was more neutral.
“First to three clean hits wins, or theoretical death blow. No head blows. Fight.”
With a nod to each other after the referee had explained the rules, the fight started.
He flicked his blade toward the woman. She stepped back and attacked his hands. Matt sidestepped and returned the move with a thrust of his own.
He had always enjoyed this kind of spar in the orphanage. It was more tactical. More about the ability with the sword than a matchup of skills or Talents.
The mock battles at the orphanage were always interesting as the randomly assigned skills and Talents could change the outcome. But when it came to sword skills, Matt excelled far beyond the others.
After a few more exchanges, Matt pushed hard. With a quick flurry of blows, he slipped an attack around her defenses and thrust at her center of mass.
Feeling the blade pressed on her chest, she nodded and bowed slightly, then said in republican, “Well fought. Your blade skills have shown me a weakness in my own. Thank you.”
Matt simply nodded and returned the thanks. “It was a good fight. If I had been even a millisecond slower, I would have been hard-pressed to end it.” He was exaggerating slightly, as he could have still ended the fight without much trouble, but there was no need to embarrass someone after a victory.
Her problem was that she was trying to string together sword forms instead of letting the fight dictate her moves.
Matt looked to the referee and asked, “Anyone else on the docket?”
The man looked at a pad next to him and asked, “Are you willing to take other types? If so, yeah. We can throw a few more people at you.”
“If they’re willing to fight against a longsword, sure.” While he could use most weapons with at least some ability, he wanted to use his weapon of choice. He’d rather step out of the ring if he couldn’t at this point.
He fought a bout against an ax user he ended after two blows. He assumed they were used to a skill or Talent to enhance their combat style because the man had no feel for the weapon.
The next was a quarterstaff user. He held the weapon in the more traditional form, like a longsword.
Matt was interested in this fight. He’d only read about quarterstaff techniques that used them like a combination of spear and longsword.
The fight began with them testing each other with light blows. Matt noted the quarterstaff was made from hardwood, or at least had a metal core, because the thing landed with momentum.
He was ready when the man transitioned into spear forms, and Matt pressed his own attack instead, pushing the staff wielder to the more common center-based staff forms. While he had never encountered this combat style, he had read up on it.
Matt was hard-pressed to land a blow because the man was able to block with one side of the quarterstaff and flick out quick blows with the other end.
He was pushed to the defensive when the man unleashed a flurry of blows. That forced Matt to grip his sword’s blade in a half-sword technique and copy the man’s defensive staff techniques.
When Matt tried to catch his enemy off guard with a heavy downward strike with his blade’s pommel, his blow was parried, and they disengaged. Each fighter stepped back until they were out of easy striking range.
They nodded in appreciation to each other. Matt was impressed with the man’s range of styles, both offensive and defensive. He was using the quarterstaff to its full potential, and it left Matt with few ideas of how to end the fight.
Matt was tiring quickly. The three fights before this, while not full out brawls, had taken their toll, and his breathing became heavy.
When they reengaged, Matt purposely overextended slightly on a downward strike, and the man took the opportunity to sweep Matt’s leg.
Matt accepted the strike and went with the fall. As he hit the ground, he was able to slip his blade behind the man’s quarterstaff and thrust up under his ribs.
His opponent looked shocked, then laughed, rubbing the spot, and said, “Well, shit. I wasn’t expecting that to be how I’d lose.”
He took it in good spirits and helped Matt up before leaving the arena.
Matt looked to the referee and held up one finger, signaling that he would take one more opponent. The last fight had winded him, but Matt had a bit more left in him.
The next opponent, who came in a minute later, was a member of the Dual Stars. He was physically a stockier man. He was wide with bulging muscles that combined with his large hammer made Matt wary.
Fighting a heavy weapon user was like asking to get things broken, and Matt debated stepping out. He decided he’d use his skill if he thought the man was going for a head blow. Anything else could be healed, but if his skull was caved in, he might live, but his personality would be toast.
Matt decided to play it safe. He was assuming he was faster than the guilder, and the first exchange proved that to be mostly true. The guilder had a veil up that made it hard to get a sense of his strength, but Matt thought he was a high Tier 4. Not quite at the peak but close.
The man was clearly a frontline fighter. He never took a step back and tried to punish Matt for every strike. That would have been a winning tactic with armor, and if the rules didn’t count three hits as a loss.
Matt scored the three blows within the first few exchanges, bringing the fight to a swift end.
The gilder got redder after each blow, and when the last one landed, the referee called the fight, and his frustration broke. “This is bullshit. I wouldn’t have lost with real rules. I want a rematch.”
Matt just looked at him. “Are you cracked in the head? You signed up for the rules.”
That just made the man glower more, “If I had known you’d fight like some flitting fairy, I wouldn’t have agreed. Fight me like a real man.”
Matt just gave him a flat look. He wasn’t going to get into a dick measuring contest with a random person over petty insults.
As Matt turned to the referee, the guilder called out, “I’ll wager a Tier 5 mana stone, normal dueling rules.”
“I don’t need your petty cash.” Matt took a page from Liz’s book. He might just be able to rile the guilder up and into offering up more mana stones.
Keeping up the act, Matt started toward the edge of the arena. As he was about to step off, the guilder growled, “Ten Tier 5s.”
That was enough to make Matt pause and consider. The guilder was confident. The only question was, is he overly confident or justifiably confident?
Matt sized him up and asked, “What do you want if you win?”
That put a sneer on the guilder’s face. “When I win. And beating your face into the ground will be enough.”
Matt agreed. He had nothing to lose except a broken bone or two. And he didn’t think the man could get through [Cracked Phantom Armor] anyway.
The guilder quickly left and came back in a set of full heavy plate armor. His hammer and shield were all nearly black, and Matt had to conclude that they were high quality. Low Tier 5, or peak Tier 4 for the whole gear setup.
The fight started, and the man lowered his shield and weapon, saying, “Come and try to get your puny blows to be ‘effective’ now.”
Matt still hasn’t activated [Cracked Phantom Armor]. He’d see what game the man was playing at. His bet was on a heavy, crippling retaliation strike when Matt approached.
Assuming his skill was stronger than the man’s hammer, he rushed forward to thrust his blade at the weaker neck armor.
As he was about to land the blow, his blade was dragged down by an unseen force, and Matt tried to pull back the sword. When the weapon touched the breastplate, it was ripped from his hands like a magnet latching onto metal.
Matt stepped back. This wasn’t how he expected this fight to proceed, and he was prepared to surrender.
The guilder just laughed, pulling Matt’s blade from his chest. He inspected it, turned it, and ran his hands along the blade.
“See, this is why I hate you flitty types. Once you take their weapon, you take everything from them. What can you do without a weapon? Nothing, because you are nothing. If you beg, I’ll only break a few bones.” He looked at Matt’s face, and when he didn’t see what he wanted, he smiled and continued, “Perfect. I’ll make this lesson hurt.”
At that, Matt’s weapon warped and bent into a ball.
Matt’s anger simmered. He looked to the referee.
“Deliberate destruction of a weapon seems a little far, don’t you agree?”
The referee just looked down.
The armored man across from him laughed and said, “The weak have no right to complain. Now, stand still and let me break you.”
Good. So, that’s how we’re going to play this.
Matt grinned. This cocky little shit had truly pissed him off. The guilder, seeing that, smiled and charged.
The anger burned hot from having his weapon destroyed with no repercussions.
Matt quickly reviewed everything he had on him. As far as he could remember, he only had metal on his boots, belt, and the button of his jeans.
Rolling away from the hammer and taunts, he unlaced his boots before throwing them off the stage.
