Merchant Of Yliaster

The fights continued, and the next up was the woman with the mental energy abilities. Her enemy wasn't very special compared to some people here, as he was an archer with a decent skillset. In his first fight, he just overwhelmed his opponents, and the fight was particularly boring to watch because all of it consisted of the guy sending volleys of arrows to his enemy.

Seeing medieval vocations when this universe was undoubtedly modern was a weird sight, but the man's bow was anything but medieval. It was more like a marvel of technology, and Maxwell had seen that the bow could fire arrows by itself, too.

The man still fired real arrows from time to time in the battle, but they all had special properties. Some exploded, some were probably poisonous, and for some, Maxwell was not sure.

Right now, though, the archer's experience was ugly, as this was a pretty bad match-up. If he were something like a berserker, he would be able to push through mental control using his instincts, but unfortunately, he was not.

A few seconds after they met each other, Maxwell watched as a mental wave travelled from the woman to the man. What followed was similar to before.

With fluid movements, the man took out an arrow from his spatial storage and rammed it into his own chest. The arrow, being apparently of the explosive kind, was quick to respond to the rough treatment.

With a contained, yet powerful explosion, the arena was covered by burnt gore just for a moment before everyone was back on their platforms once more. The archer took the whole ordeal quite well, and Maxwell didn't see a great amount of fear radiating from the man, but there was a trace of wariness inside the man's eyes now.

When the platforms started to move once more, everyone was surprised to see that the platform of the same woman was once more moving. Well, one of us has to fight twice, I suppose, Maxwell thought. There were 18 anomalies in the tournament, and that was not a very good number for such an event.

Maxwell wasn't too sure of the class of her opponent this time, but he was quite interested in the fight, as this time, the opponent was a woman. She wore a ceremonial robe, probably meaning that she belonged to a religious group, but the outfit was really tight, showing an attractive body. Maxwell was interested because he was curious what emotion the mentalist woman could use against her new opponent.

Soon, mental waves started once more, and Maxwell was surprised to feel that the emotion this time felt like envy. He supposed that it could cause many things, but he didn't see how it would be useful in this situation.

However, after a brief battle of wills, even he could see that it was working. The priestess' face was slowly turning paler and paler, and her lips were moving in a chant. To Maxwell's senses, the battle was much more complicated, as he could see mental energy and holy energy clash in the arena.

Mental energy was much more abstract from what he understood, so even if holy energy managed to counter it to a degree, it wasn't doing a great job. He knew that what he was seeing was a representation of the real battle, as he was pretty sure that none of the sides could manipulate their energies with the intricacy he was seeing without the aid of system-created skills.

For a minute, a silent but fierce battle ensued, hidden to the regular senses, and at the end, the priestess abruptly moved her head, her eyes getting locked with her opponent. As he saw the incredible intensity of emotion in those eyes, Maxwell knew that the war was nearing its end.

Negative energy radiated from the priestess in droves as she stared, and after a moment, she spoke with an even tone.

"I forfeit," she said, and everyone was back to their spots once more as if nothing had happened. Maxwell immediately observed the priestess with his senses, and he was not surprised to see that the woman was still looking at the woman with the crimson dress. Even now, the intensity of envy inside her eyes was almost palpable.

If only she had Pax, Maxwell thought in amusement. This woman would probably need a professional to get over her mental trauma, whatever it was. Mental attacks were incredibly dangerous just because of this. With mental attacks, there was no immediate healing, as that would mean system rewiring people's brains, not restoring them.

Even in the real world, there were no sparring sessions using mental attacks, as you couldn't beat someone with mental attacks unless you really tried to hurt them. And when you managed that, things could go bad, really quickly.

In a few battles between people in Zephyr, mental attacks were in use for some time; despite them being almost completely useless against the beast, they were really useful against the people. Back in Zephyr, a beast's mind was simply too strong for them to risk going into its brain; anyone who tried was met with unfortunate fates, as the mind of a beast quite easily overwhelmed them.

Anyone who lived through such an experience was usually changed unpleasantly, and in most cases, they kept behaving in a more beastly way.

From this, with his new knowledge, Maxwell could see that the power of the mind didn't just come from the mind attribute. If that were the case, there would be some cases where the beast would have a strong body but a weak mind, but that never happened.

Maxwell could see the same thing as they looked around and tried to gauge the mental strength of the people inside the room. Most of them had decently powerful souls, and he doubted that they would waste so many attribute points on mind to do that.

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It was quite apparent that there was a mechanism behind the leveling system that made your mind stronger as you leveled up. A level 10 mentalist wouldn't beat a level 200 warrior even if they put everything into strength.

As he theorized, he realized that the platforms were moving once more. The new match-up, too, was really interesting. The monk from before was put against the man with the scabbard. Maxwell would really like to see the reaction of these two to the mental attacks, but it seemed like he wouldn't be able to satisfy his curiosity for some time.

The monk bowed before his opponent and started speaking with an amiable tone.

"It is a great honor to fight someone so strong. Don't hesitate to strike me out, as the weak don't need kindness," he said, and changed his posture. Immediately, his aura changed, giving Maxwell the impression that this itself was a skill.

His opponent simply smiled slightly and slowly took out his knife from its scabbard. Maxwell immediately locked onto the knife, trying to understand it, but still, it felt like he was missing something crucial to understand how this thing worked.

He could see clearly that this was not the same knife as before. At least, it was not completely the same. He could also see that it was a temporary construct, as the mana inside was too turbulent for it to remain inside for a long time, but he had no idea what actually caused the shape change.

As before, the monk charged ahead, and the knife also followed its short course, once more returning to the scabbard. Next moment, though, something unexpected happened, as the charge of the monk didn't stop.

Suddenly, the symphony of harmony that followed every move of the monk was broken, and a red light exploded from his figure. The center was on his neck, as a bright horizontal light could be seen, similar to a clean cut.

For the first time, the casual man before him gave a real reaction, as his eyes showed real surprise before he moved to the side, dodging the charge with an awkward jump. It was apparent that the man was not very used to dodging, as he was a bit awkward on his feet.

The next moment, he pulled out his knife once more, but this time, something was different. As the man pulled the knife out, it turned out that it was not a small knife that he was pulling now. Immediately, a giant blade appeared in his hand, and Maxwell was surprised to see that this blade didn't really look like a weapon. It looked more like a butcher's blade.

The gleam of sharpness, though, couldn't be denied, and as the man swung the blade again, a new red line immediately appeared on the monk's body. This time, though, it was a vertical line, and it neatly divided the monk into two halves, starting from the top of his head.

This, though, created little inconvenience for the monk himself, who once more charged with even more vigor. The red light covering him increased with leaps and bounds, and his eyes once more turned red, having a feline-like appearance.

He appeared before his opponent and punched out. The hand met the blade as the man managed to position the blade to block the attack, but he was launched back due to the force. As he flew back, the man swung once more, and he abruptly stopped, making Maxwell's eyes widen.

How did he stop? He was completely confused about this simple move. One moment, the man was flying backwards, and the next moment, he was stationary. There was no reason for the small swing he did to stop him, and he didn't even use any mana. The only thing Maxwell could see was the man's kinetic energy suddenly disappearing like it never existed.

As the man stopped, the monk was not late to catch him, but this time, the man attacked in close combat, swinging his weird blade in an unnatural-looking arc. The scene was strange, as it looked more like the sword was moving the man's arm instead of him moving the sword, but the result was the same.

The monk dodged out of the way in a hurry, clearly not daring to take the attack head-on, and soon, numerous red lines started to appear on his body as his opponent started to wave his machete as if he was conducting a symphony.

Once more, the monk charged, completely disregarding the attacks, and the man swung once more. This time, though, the monk didn't stop his attack. He dodged only partially out of the way; a part of his arm was taken by the attack, revealing a terrible-looking, smoking flesh beneath.

On the other hand, he actually managed to land a hit on the calm man before him, and he was once more launched back, a clear crunch sounding in the arena. Before the monk bounced his enemy by appearing behind him, but for some reason, the speed of his opponent was much faster than it should have been, so he could only watch as the man flew away.

Maxwell could see in real time that the air resistance behind the man was completely disappearing like an illusion, making him fly back far faster. As before, the man stopped himself in a completely incomprehensible way and stared at the monk with a strange glint in his eye.

There were no signs in his expression that the earlier impact actually made any damage; if anything, he looked happier than before, as his eyes were locked onto the exposed flesh on the Monk's arm. For the first time in this gathering, he spoke, his voice sounding rough like a commoner.

"You are more beast than man, I see," he said, and shook his head in disapproval.

The monk didn't say anything, and with an angry growl, he charged once again. Maxwell could see an incredible amount of energy coming out of the man, as every cut he received strengthened the man more and more, revealing whatever he was hiding inside.

On the other hand, though, the target of the charge was awfully calm. He simply placed his machete back into the scabbard, and took it out again, and there it was. The small knife was here once more.

This time, though, Maxwell could once more see that it was slightly different. The knife gave a soothing feeling even though it didn't release any energy.

Just before the monk reached him, the man swung in the air once more, and this time, a head with furious-looking eyes was separated, flying into the air, followed by a fountain of smoking blood.

The body, though, kept going under the dumbfounded gazes of everyone, including the man with the scabbard. He tried to react, but still, he was too slow. The body, even without its head, executed a perfect martial stance and punched him on the solar plexus, sending him flying.

Immediately, Maxwell could see that the attack was not enough, and his theory was proved when everyone turned back to their platforms while the man with the scabbard was still flying in the air. He was surprised, maybe, but he was definitely not dead.

As silence returned to the arena, everyone looked at the monk who still had the same naive smile on his face instead of the man with the scabbard, although he was actually the loser. He seemed to feel apologetic, seeing all the looks, so he laughed awkwardly before speaking.

"I'm truly sorry. I got a bit excited," he said, bowing down before the incredulous crowd.