Accidental Reaver

Over a dozen arrows pierced through Luke's body.

Blood Haze ran at full speed, as did Vampiric Regeneration. Nathaniel proved to be the most competent challenger yet. Even with Luke's predictive sight, his fastest arrow abilities still managed powerful blows, penetrating Luke's armor and ice layers. The Archer's options were vastly limited. Not only did Luke move at a speed far beyond his opponent, he also controlled the entire terrain through ice and frost.

More than once, the Reaver fulminated frost beneath or on Nathaniel to ruin the Archer's ability queue, bow draw, and attempts to create distance. Now, Xera stabbed through both of Nathiel's hands, sinking into the stone. The other Earth born hunter was layered over in frost. Sweeping a hand over his body, Luke snapped off the arrows peppering him. With internal ice, he pushed out the poisoned arrowheads, then repeated the action to flush out the majority of the poison. Asani's upgrade to poison resistance unexpectedly made its value known already.

Keeping to his word, Luke held back from stealing too many attributes from this blond man skewered by him. The other challengers would polish off what he could grow to, besides perhaps raw HP. No need to take extra from someone he kept a decent impression of.

Case in point, Nathaniel took the loss in stride.

"Damn, I knew things would end up this way. I'd hoped to do a little better, though. How on Earth do you move that fast? And it's like you can see the future. You dodged the majority of my shots. One moment, you're in my sights, the next, you move half an inch from the trajectory, a real pain. Split Arrow barely took you by surprise." The young man looked up with a pained smile, "I surrender. I'm a reserve member of the Lesus Tower Team. If you want me to put in a good word for you, I can."

With Nathaniel admitting defeat, the blue barrier enclosing the two turned into motes, and a green cocoon healed over the Archer, extracting Xera out of the two pinned down hands. Luke picked up his artifact, flicking off the blood. Turning away, he steadily stepped back to the starting position.

"A decent offer, Nathaniel. I'm keeping my cards close to my chest for now. If I get interested, I'll track you down and take you up on it. Stay safe from the coming Tide."

Luke didn't know if the life-giving cocoon prevented Nathaniel from speaking, but he received no response.

This round taught Luke that Archers were more troublesome to deal with compared to melee types and Mages. While he had options against arrows, none seemed as ironclad as what he did against spells or close range weapons. Splitting a spell with Xera wasn't too taxing. Doing the same against an arrow required vastly more precision, timing, and perception. During the fight, the tried and true method became closing the gap and dodging just enough to avoid the shot.

Go too wide, and Nathaniel adjusted the shot in real time, still landing a blow. Hence, he currently had to heal over a dozen arrow holes. The frost patches prevented any bleeding—Vampiric Regeneration would close up the wounds roughly by the time the next bout started.

Nathaniel also knew an arrow technique he'd never seen before. At first, he thought it was an ability, but it was used too often for that to be the case. Arrows would split after he shot it and at varying points of flight path, sometimes happening only just before impact, making Luke take blows even when the predictive sight saw it coming.

His reflexes still needed the slightest bit of time, empowered by agility or not. Overall, he had to bring out about seventy percent of his standard capability. Getting a further feel from battling tier 2's, Luke found his raw attributes often matched or outstripped his opponents. With his superior techniques and at least some of his gear, it came as little surprise that he overcame the tier gap.

The reduction in blow power, effectiveness of Essence Lance, and Essence Bond were annoyances, but he'd adjusted. Tier 2 bodies sure were sturdy. Cutting through them required vicious strength and acceleration. Exploding frost layers usually took care of the latter issue. The passive speed boost from Infusion enabled Luke to move beyond what his opponent often predicted. It wasn't until later in the fight, when Nathaniel began to adapt that the Archer landed any real damage on Luke.

The green cocoon swept away, revealing a wholly restored Nathaniel. The blond archer gave a friendly wave goodbye and stepped onto the summoned teleportation circle. Soon after, the next duelist came, the blue furred chain mail wearing tora woman from before. Based on visual cues, Luke pegged her as a dual wielding Warrior if the two maces at her side had anything to say about it.

She stepped into the linked circle without much fanfare, her feline gaze almost fanatically examining Luke. His earlier display against Nathaniel likely sparked competitiveness. At least she didn't go on hurling insults or looking down upon him. Luke simmered essence around himself. A deep blue miasma already enveloped his half of the arena, stopped by a transparent barrier put in place during the two minute wait period.

He leaned forward, pressing the electrical signals for Triple Step to his left foot. He tried to 'double-charge' the technique, and while there were signs such an alteration was possible, he failed to manage it. A sharp shock stabbed into the affected calve—accepting the current limit, Luke applied Triple Step normally, layered by frost and ice underneath for an explosive start.

The counter dashed down to zero. Using both techniques at his disposal, Luke vaulted forward, soaring through the air, the ground beneath becoming a blur at his speed. The tora woman crossed both maces, aiming to smash them down as he came into contact with her. A green glow overcame the two weapons as muscles bulged, bulking up the chain mail covering them.

A pity, really, Luke had seen it all, three steps ahead. Using an enhanced strike ability, she would stop the assault, neutralizing Xera, and the off hand weapon could then run into his shoulder, stopped by ice, but ending his momentum.

Instead, about a foot before the maces would swing into him, Luke commanded the frost on his chest to shatter, clearing him above the threat. An icy arc sliced apart chain mail and decimated the tora's right shoulder—only stopped by bone. A grey circular mirage appeared—Luke at its center—the consequence of Whispering Tome's active: Silent Domain. The woman's retaliation was stopped in horror. She resisted it rather well but not well enough. The Reaver had a second and a half of a defenseless target.

In a dual grip, Luke sucked ice from around into Xera, cleaving the tora Warrior from her other shoulder down to the hip. Ice kept the wound from bleeding until it shattered her insides instead. In the midst of horror, the tora poured blood from their openings.

Leaving one hand on Xera's hilt, Luke used the other hand, covered in sharpened ice, to sink into the woman's chest, clutching around her heart. Stepping close, looking into her eyes while leaning in to whisper, "Surrender. You average tier 2 hunters are little more than distractions."

Two maces dropped to the ground, and the tora gurgled up blood, trying to speak. Coherent words impossible to form from nearly frozen vocal cords. The Interface came to the rescue, though, sensing the tora's desire.

[Duelist Metharni has surrendered. Initiating barrier protocol]

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The rest became a blur after that. Luke sank challenger after challenger. None gave much resistance outside Nathaniel and a quick-witted Astralist monic man. The former due to Luke's lack of experience against an Astralist's star-like powers and how the monic displayed incredible resistance against his frost and ice. Twelve battles richer, Luke found the challenger list empty. The others who arrived after him pulled out from the queue, realizing Luke failed to be the easy target they wanted. The one unexpected Astralist challenger toned Luke's arrogance against higher tier hunters. While techniques and superior stats did most of the heavy lifting, losing remained a real possibility if he encountered one especially suited against him.

Somewhere along the lines, Luke would steal attributes from the challengers, yet he'd feel stagnant. The attributes would still drain from the target and go off into the void rather than strengthen his body. Except for HP, he'd not hit the limit there—whatever it may be. Disappointedly, none of the challengers offered up any special attributes, although that could be a matter of luck. The chances to steal the rare stats proved to be much lower compared to agility, intellect, strength, and HP.

Your typical invitation requests from VIPs came in, asking for a visit. None had an 'in' with him, so he declined. The fewer fingers in his business, the better. Less than two hours passed from the chain duels, and the spectator stands brimmed with people. Luke took the teleportation circle, appearing before the grey-white vortex.

Before anyone could try to get a hold of him, he left the arena realm.

In a deep underground meeting zone, a meeting between the underlords took place. A black triangle table, reserved just for mediating conflict between the 'big three,'—separated the three representatives—and one aid allowed to be by their sides. The staff of the black market establishment hurried back and forth, serving requested food, documents, drinks, and whatever else the three powerful criminal lords demanded. Hostile light of purple, red, and yellow glared upon each; the background kept dim. Skull formed pillars held up each tricorner. Black slate echoed footsteps across the room, and only one warded arched door served as entry and exit.

Three kingpins sat in a triangular formation against royal red padded thrones. Each decored to their faction theme: yellow and blue for the Golden Lions, Crimson and Grey for the Red Gorrids, and finally, dark purple and black for the Velvet Finger.

Each throne seated the head to their respective faction. The Scarlet Overlord, Pride Lord Legar, and the Second Finger.

The Second Finger spoke first, a feminine monic voice coming through her cloth covered face, only purple eyes showing, "To what does Velvet Hand answer this summons of yours, Demir?"

"That's Red Overlord, to you, Second Finger. When will your 'Hand' show himself one of these days? Sylen's going to have just two factions controlling its underside at this rate."

"The Hand has bigger matters to deal with in the Duchy than oversee this second-rate city. I alone am enough to manage the Velvet Hand adequately. We can continue the thinly veiled threats outside this room. Again, your purpose in calling us here under the third article?"

In a rare show of support to otherwise direct competition, Pride Lord Leger said, "It makes my fur stand up on its ends, but the Second Finger is right. None of us have the time to waste, keeping the City Lord, Miels, and Pyrites happy lately has been enough." He drank from a golden jeweled goblet, "Now we have Musai and Aloysius breathing down our necks while this 'Rune' character has stabbed right into the lower levels of our interests."

Three blood shards rose from the Red Overlord, expanding out into a reflective surface. Mana lines activated, and a recent scene played upon them, each showing a different angle. An otherwise bustling morning rush started the scene on the three crystals. In the next moment, cracks formed in the air, shattering the illusion overlaid on the street, taking the beings inside back to their original location.

A young man appeared, with a blade stabbed into a tora beneath him. A blizzard formed around him, as his icy eyes tried to track hostiles around him. Runes crawled up his arms, black cape fluttering at the arctic winds he commanded. An ability appeared to have just closed up—barely discernible—a rip in the air, exposing pressure to the world.

"Defier Wallace?" The Second Finger said, a hint of interest in her tone. Her eyes widened as the next scene played.

The human assailant in the second crystal became immolated by lightning-doused fire, turning to ash. The tora underneath Luke had its neck clean cut by an air slash, while fire began to sunder his body. The young man appeared unaware of the death. Lastly, the velvet robed assassin was split in two as they tried to run away, fire claiming them.

But not before speaking out words while dying. The crystals failed to capture any audio. Demir pointed at the white mists coming off each of the three now defunct assassins.

"Sacrament followers. Devout enough to leave behind their former affiliation to our factions. Each of them were a former member belonging to us. Now, we have attracted Musai's ire again before the Tide." Blood rushed around the man. He clutched his hand against the black crystal-stone table, a thin crack carved into it, "The agreement was to not target Defier Luke again. An agreement now forcibly broken by all three of us."

Legar spoke up, yawning, then resting a check in his palm, "The crazed blade said our highest tiers were unable to target the newest Defier. None of those middle grade second-tier's fit that descriptor." His gaze hardened, feline eyes thinning, "The bigger concern is how the Sacrament infiltrated my High Lions. The god worshipers." He spat at the end.

The Second Finger crossed her legs, scornfully speaking to the Red Overlord, "Unable to keep a proper leash on your men, Demir? It must be tearing you up inside, this Rune targets your favorites, Iona comes to claim your best subordinate gang, and you're attacked on all ends by the City Lord lately. Why not retire, red eyes? Or ask for the Pyrites to save your sorry excuse for a crime organization?"

"I count one of your number there too, Second Finger. That flimsy front is cracking already, all three of us are under siege. Your Velvet Hand has lost plenty of territory in the last days."

Narrowing her eyes, the Second Finger said, "Each of us three have been pulled down forcibly after the Ninth Defier appeared." She pointed at Legar and then Demir quickly before settling her hand on the table, "Both of yours mistake to target him has weakened our positions considerably. I heard Aloysius gave a light warning by killing one of your Pride Lords, Legar."

Flashing his claws, Legar said, "Stop derailing the conversation, Second Finger. Operations before the Tide must now be ceased. Sacrament believers have infiltrated our numbers. They'll provoke without any thought to what it'll do to their public allegiance." Pride Lord Legar settled his hands onto armrests, "While the City Lord won't go too far, and Musai is too preoccupied to uproot us, Aloysius, Annika, Iona, and Jovan are much more capable of retaliation until the day of the Tide. We must act now. Our Titled backers can't keep back that unpredictable group of nine. Even their youngest member is a rapidly growing threat."

The blood waves around Demir calmed, settling back into the man. He nodded, "We see eye to eye here, Legar. With the recent chain of events, infighting will incur irrecoverable damage. This Tide is an opportunity. We can benefit tremendously if we hold on until the aftermath plays out. I vote to enact a vicious purge of any potential cultist in our number and to present them to the Defier's Branch. That should prevent the worst."

A spasm seemed to crawl up the Second Finger's body, but she ultimately straightened herself, "Be the tensions between ourselves, destroying one another is something none of us want. You have my temporary agreement. Shall we draw up the alliance measures to last until the purge is complete?"

"My men will withdraw from the Red Light District and yours from the southern underground. I'll leave you cats alone in the southwestern smuggling lines as well. Five days should be more than enough. Legar? Second Finger?"

Scratching his chest, Legar said, "Five days, Demir. No interference with each other until then. We present what we find to the City Lord or Defiers within one day, any longer, and the Defiers may come to their own conclusions."

Standing up and dusting off her black purple robe, the Second Finger said, "The Velvet Hand will follow those terms. I look forward to my district being peaceful for once. See you men later, we meet here again in five days. My velvets will withdraw from their operations in your territories for now."

Demir called after her, "There are other matters to discuss, where are you going?"

"The others aren't important enough for me to stay around your lustful eyes." She gestured to a robed elderly man still beside the throne like chair she previously sat on, "My highest deacon will handle the rest."

Exiting through the warded arch, the Second Finger disappeared from sight.

Returning his red eyes to the Legar's feline yellow ones, Demir said, "We made a mistake in letting themselves settle their operations here, Legar."

"That we did, red thorn. Since we're here at the discussion table, care to share what your 'other matters' are?"

"What else could they be? Let's work closely to make sure this Tide remains profitable. When stability is at its lowest, crime runs rampant. Now that we are going to pacify the minority trying to uproot us, it is time to turn towards mutual profit—in the short term."

At the mention of profit, Legar's eyes glittered, "I'm all ears for scooping up additional resources. We both have much damage to recover from."