Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite]

"It's big," Soph whispered as she stared up at Ranton's Grand Colosseum with those lifeless eyes of hers.

Lone smirked. 'That's not the first time that I've heard you say that,' he privately noted as he walked towards what looked like the structure's entrance while happily using his arm to guide her.

“What colour is it?” he asked her.

Soph raised an eyebrow. “It’s a mix. Most of it is a bright grey, almost white. There are browns, blues and greens too though. A couple… banners? Yeah, banners. They’re red to me and I can almost see the patterns on them.”

“… I wish I could see the world as you do,” Lone muttered. “It sounds so magical.”

“I feel the same way about how you see it,” Soph replied with a wry smile.

‘I need to look into seeing if that’s possible somehow. Creation Magic would be a stretch since eyes are so complex… Who knows though, maybe a healing magic expert can restore her sight,’ Lone wondered.

Once inside the building, he could see several booths that seemed to have been set up specifically for the registration of the annual tournament.

Approaching one of them, Lone frowned upon seeing the look of disgust on the face of the person manning the desk he'd chosen. Quite clearly, the man sitting behind it wasn't very fond of demis.

Lone considered switching booths for a moment, but ultimately decided it'd be pointless since the person in charge of this one might find further fault with if he did so.

While unafraid of confrontation with his newfound confidence from being an adventurer and from having ranked up, Lone wanted to avoid getting into any trouble.

He decided he'd sign up with this guy and just get this over with sooner rather than later.

"Hi, my master wishes for me to part-"

"Human participants must pay 25 silvers, non-humans need pay four times that. Slaves cost an extra 50 silver on top of that. All registered participants must fight at least one of our instructors first before being given permission to enter the tournament, as there are only a limited number of available slots due to time constraints on the day of the competition." The employee clearly didn't care about Lone's opinion nor about his words. He just wanted the foxkin out of his hair as soon as possible.

'Well, at least he's not blowing me off, so he's a professional racist. If only he could rein in that glare of his,' Lone commented internally as he quietly listened.

"All rewards are listed on the posters all over the colosseum, so go look for them if you don't already know what the first-through-fifth place prizes are. If you cause any trouble as a participant, you forfeit all of your citizen's rights, temporary or otherwise, and are liable to be jailed, so keep that in mind." The man slid a sheet of paper across the booth's desk as well as a quill and an inkwell.

"Fill out this form. If you can't read nor write, I shall do it for you, but there is a ten silver service fee," the employee said.

'Wow. No small talk whatsoever. Again, at least he's being professional. If only all racists, or, well, speciesists could be so civilised. Hahaha, the irony in that is hilarious,' Lone thought mockingly as he took the writing tools and quickly filled in all of the boxes with the relevant information.

The employee took the paper back and checked its contents. "Good handwriting for a non. You’re free though? Unlikely. Your master's taught you well but we don’t allow lying here. That will be one gold coin and 50 silvers, thank you very much."

''Non'? Is that, like, a more offensive version of 'demi'? As in, 'you're either a human or so beneath one that you don't deserve a classification'? I could be reading into it too much, to be fair,' Lone thought as a frown overcame his expression.

“I’m a demi so you just assume I’m a slave? So it’s okay for me to assume you’re a talentless hack whose neck I could snap with a sneeze because you’re working a desk job, huh?” Lone asked provokingly.

Soph’s atmosphere changed and then she arched her brow disapprovingly. “We are adventurers. Treat us as such or we shall call upon our guildmaster to address this grievance- nay, this case of daylight robbery. He is our partner, not our slave.”

The employee glanced between Lone and Sophie with annoyance clear on his expression.

Lone heard him mumbling, “I don’t get paid enough for this,” before he sighed and loudly said, “Fine, one gold.”

Lone reached into his pocket and balanced a golden coin on his thumb perfectly. He then flicked the coin with his index finger hard enough to leave a small dent when it smacked the employee square in the forehead.

"That’s assaul-“

Sophie leaned over the desk and interrupted, “That is kindness considering how you slighted him. Were it us you had offended, your head would be sitting in your lap right now. Silence your petty complaints and do your job, you insignificant worm.”

The booth's manner grumbled again, this time soft enough for Lone to not hear him with his fox ears.

The man chucked a bronze badge with a shield and two crossed swords on it at him, intent on returning the favour of the coin.

Lone easily caught it. His stats didn’t make him superhuman despite their large numbers but they did make such an easy feat of agility and dexterity all the simpler.

The man spat out, "Go through that door and wait your turn. Don't lose or eat that badge before your test, you animal. It's your participation identification. Your ‘partner’ can go with you only up to that room, after which, she will have to wait for you in there as you get tested."

Lone silently acknowledged him with some very minimal head movements and then left.

Normally, he'd have thanked the man for being helpful, but he agreed with Sophie here. ‘What a cunt.’

Now in the room that he had been directed to, Lone could see roughly 20 other people. Most of them were clearly warriors of some sort with swords and axes, however, a small handful seemed to be hunters or rogues while only a single person was wearing a robe and holding a staff.

Lone immediately took a place next to the presumed mage. Sophie placed herself down next to him silently.

“What kinda magic can you do? You must be an adventurer, right? Ah, or a noble, I suppose,” Lone asked with a warm smile towards the man next to him.

Pushing up his glasses, the mage shook his head. “Do not talk to me, do not look at me, do not think of me. In fact, I’d rather you got up and moved.”

Lone sighed deeply but respected the guy’s wishes. He didn’t move places though he ignored the man, much to his own displeasure.

‘Another person treading the path of magic like me but he’s either an arrogant ass or another bigot. What a fuckin’ shame,’ Lone thought wistfully.

After that, he waited very patiently until everyone before them had been tested. They were called in via a very rudimentary 'who's next' fashion, and Lone didn't want to step on any toes by going before anyone that had arrived prior to himself.

Naturally, while he and Sophie had waited, the room filled up again with more hopeful combatants, but Lone went up once the employee called for the next person to be tested.

"Out of the way, fucking demi trash," a skinny woman said loudly as she used her armoured hands to shove Lone out of the way, almost tripping him over.

Were it not for his decent Dexterity in relation to the woman's Strength, he would have no doubt fallen over.

The woman scoffed and entered before him. A round of laughter rang out in the room as everyone watched this going on.

Lone just sighed and leaned against the wall next to the door that led to the testing area. He kept a close watch on Sophie while he stood there and allowed himself to stew in his thoughts.

'What a cunt. Why are people such pricks just 'cause I have fluffy ears and some bushy tails?... Okay, a lot of bushy tails, but regardless, they must be fuckin’ touched in the head if they can't recognise that I'm also a person. I never understood racism, so I doubt I'll ever understand speciesism, but fuck me if it isn't annoying,' Lone privately commented as he folded his arms across his chest and frowned.

The black orb in his front trouser pocket softly pulsated without anyone's knowing, seemingly in reaction to Lone's anger.

Five minutes soon came and went before the employee returned. This time, Lone very briskly walked through the door.

Were he not standing right next to it, he was certain he'd have been heckled even more so than earlier by the other participants, which would only bring up memories that he'd rather continue to forget.

Thankfully, he was successful, and thus, followed the winding hallway that no doubt led to the testing area.

As he arrived at a new door, a familiar face entered his vision.

"I thought you'd be next, demi scum," the armoured woman claimed as she sensually caressed the hilt of her longsword. "I wonder if anyone will bother to investigate it if your corpse was found here?"

Lone frowned deeply once again. "Try it.”

“Pardon?” the woman asked.

“I said try it. We’ll see who leaves this building in a body bag, you invalid,” Lone taunted.

“What did you just call me, you piece of filth?!” the woman screamed.

'Just straight-up filth? No demi prefix? Vulgar bitch,' Lone thought as he smiled faintly and replied, "Well, until your brain starts functioning properly, I think the label fits. Who in their right mind would threaten an adventurer with no valid reason? And a beastkin adventurer at that. Does foolishness get any more apparent than in this case? Idiotic humans will forever be idiotic humans.”

'Man, calling someone a human feels weird as fuck given my origins. Still, as much as I want to make this waste of a sperm cell bleed from her face, I can’t imagine killing someone would be looked upon with kindness even I was the wronged party' Lone thought to himself in mild frustration.

The woman's knitted her brow seriously as a fire strewed beneath her bright blue eyes. "I hope you pass and that we face each other in the tournament, you coward. Hiding behind your organisation? I’ll enjoy killing you in the tourney."

Lone just smiled silently as the woman bashed her shoulder into his and then briskly walked past him down the hallway back towards the waiting room.

Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Acting] has levelled up! It is now Intermediate Level 8.

"Fucking absolute cunt. Would give my dad a run for his money," Lone spat out as he opened the door and walked through it. 'I regret coming here now. What a stupid fuckin’ decision. It's too late now since I'm already here, but maybe Sophie and I should skip town? She might be able to sneak us over the border… There's a dwarven fortress northeast of here, right? Maybe... But then again, I could be letting my anger think in my place...'

Lone put the matter to the back of his mind as he looked around. He was now in a chamber that was about twice the size of the waiting room, and three people stood in its heart. One looked like a warrior, one a rogue, and the last, a mage.

The mage - a lady in a blue robe holding a pure crystal staff - cleared her throat. "Your specialisation?"

'Hmm? I guess you fight a different person depending on what your fighting style is? Well, there's little point in lying about my skills beyond what I've already shown in public,' Lone decided as he bowed his head politely. "I have some skill in evasive manoeuvring as well as with using this swordspear of mine, on top of that, I can use the Lightning Bolt skill from the lightning magic school."

The warrior scratched his beard. "Talent fae magic but yer usin' a polearm? Nae the rarest thing on Altros, aye, but that's unusual for ah foxkin. Mind ye, ah've never met ah Golden Foxkin afore."

'A dwarf? No... He's too tall and not quite stocky enough... A half-dwarf then? Dwarves are one of the few demi races that can reproduce with humans, so it's not implausible.' Lone smiled. "I'm most suited to this type of weapon. I try to avoid using magic when I can to limit myself since it's too powerful. It's a very useful skill though, Lightning Bolt."

The mage seemed pleased with that comment. "Indeed, with great power comes great responsibility." She nodded wisely then glanced at the rogue. "Wallace, you fight him. You're fast enough to not die to a Lightning Bolt assuming he's telling the truth."

"As if a B-ranker could possibly be killed by a G-ranker," the rogue, Wallace, grumbled in response. "I'll be holding back a lot, Ninetails, but try your best regardless."

Lone got into position and gripped his swordspear tightly. "Thank you."

After that brief exchange, the two began the test. Lone put all of his concentration into warding off as many of Wallace's dagger strikes and knife throws as he could, but he would try to dodge if parrying or blocking seemed impossible.

Occasionally a knife would nick his cheek or the backs of his hands, but he was able to dodge or parry almost all of the attacks from the man's dagger. The ones that hit him stung, but they were only superficial wounds.

What was a genuine challenge though, was suppressing his Basic Regeneration so as to not expose it.

Lone was rapidly running out of stamina, but he didn't want to try using Swordspear Mastery's pierce nor his magic in fears of killing or greatly injuring the man even despite the rank gap.

For all he knew, Wallace was a noble who happened to be strong, and hurting him could potentially upset the wrong people given his status as a demi.

Five minutes later, just as Lone was about to collapse, Wallace suddenly stopped his fierce assault and walked back to his fellow testers with barely a single droplet of sweat on his brow.

"Yer evaluation?" the warrior asked as his fingers combed through his thick facial hair.

Wallace shrugged. "He'd be dead 49 times already if I'd poisoned my tools. He's overly cautious and tends to hyper-analyse things which leads to a lot of openings.”

The warrior nodded. “Ah noticed that too.”

Wallace added, “He definitely has Polearm Mastery, but it's shallow, unquestionably no higher than intermediate rank - and that's being generous. His stamina though, he must have an incredible amount of Vitality for his rank. I'd wager a guess at roughly the level of a high F-ranker, maybe even a low E-ranker. His Strength stat may even be equal to a normal low D-ranker's. The bastard was parrying and blocking more blows than he was dodging, and I wasn't pulling my punches as much as I should have been. All-in-all, I give him a strong pass. A flawed diamond is still a diamond."

"If ye say so, then ah guess ah pass him too," the presumed half-dwarf said with a grin on his face.

The mage coughed faintly and then asked, "If you wouldn't mind, Ninetails, could you please display your Lightning Bolt for me? I'd like to be certain that you possess the ability to harness magic from the lightning school."

Lone raised his palm and pointed it at the wall. "I assume it's fine to hit over there, right?"

With a slight nod from the lady as his answer, Lone used his second most powerful skill which only fell short of the overpowered Mental Destruction. "Lightning Bolt."

A blue current danced across Lone's fingertips and then jumped from his open palm to the wall, destroying a layer of bricks and charring several dozen more.

"Very good! It's a pass from me too!" the mage reached into her pocket and tossed a silver badge to Lone. "Hold onto that. The competition is in two months. Please refer to the posters all over the colosseum and the city for the exact date of the matches, but once it starts, make sure to present that badge to the staff in the entry hall. Failure to show will be treated as a capital offence, so don't sleep in on the big day."

Lone laughed a little bit nervously in response to that as he said farewell then left the room.