“I’ve always been good at figuring out a way to win in any situation. So, I’ve got this.”
As Kyle was talking to Hilde, he realized that he had missed hearing the stats of two of the more normal looking guys.
Again, his angelic guide answered, “You didn’t miss anything. At least the lycan and the troll have a chance to make it into tier two. Those other three are just normal mortals. They are probably skilled fighters but no stats above a five.
“Honestly, since half-monsters started to be allowed to fight, there hasn’t been much chance for plain ol’ mortals to win. Before I became trapped in the void, the last three arena champions had all possessed either celestial or fiendish ancestry,” Hilde said.
He shushed her though, because now the testing rod was in front of the elf next to him. The results popped up and they were not exactly what he had been expecting.
Gilthan, dragon. Elven base: 75%.
Strength: 7, Agility: 9, Constitution: 6.
Kyle didn’t really have time to marvel at the fact that this dude was part dragon or to wonder why none of his stats were tier two, because now it was his turn to be tested. He heard Hilde hiss inside his head, “Focus on stealth. Think about hiding.”
He chuckled. She had dropped that on him at the last second. Probably because she didn’t trust him to not overthink it. Fair enough. Still, he focused on it as he felt the tendrils of magic pass through his skin. It was fascinating; now that he knew what to look for, he seemed to be able to see the essence in use.
The rod was a focusing item for her spell, which in and of itself was simply a way that mortals had to use essence. Unlike gods, they couldn’t tap it straight from the source, so to speak, although how he knew that exactly he wasn’t sure. He just knew it was true.
As the spell formed around him, he realized it made him tingle inside. It was like someone was silently standing over his shoulder while he was trying to read. Then, as the spell finished, he saw his character sheet again—or at least part of it.
Name: Krig (Kyle Hudson)
Race: Demi-god (War God/human)
Stats: (Current/Max)
Strength: 16/42
Agility: 5/42
Constitution: 14/45
Will: 11/45
Mind: 6/39
Charisma:2/29
Essence: Current/Max
War: 12/50 – Conversion rate: 1/second
Raw Essence: 1,423
Divine Ability:
Rage Burst, 1 - 4 War
He saw the sheet but then heard what Selma read off:
Kyle Warborn, essence elemental. Human base: 50%.
Strength: 16, Agility: 5, Constitution: 14.
Everyone in the room was staring at him. Saber even whistled before coming over to look at him. “Well, well, I bet Darron is gonna be pissed as all hell when he finds out about this, and Soren is likely to drink himself to death in delight.”
Kyle was trying to read the body language of the people around him. He only could make out the occasional word. He wanted to ask Hilde what was going on, but it didn’t seem like he could do that and stay alert. The room suddenly seemed very tense.
Hilde translated for him but didn’t offer an explanation.
Saber continued pacing, then looked at the three humans. “You poor saps. A lycan, troll, and a dragon would have been bad enough, but a freaking elemental and a war one by the sounds of it. You boys might as well just hope to be good enough to make it onto my training staff, but this crew here is gonna tear the coliseum up this year.”
He turned back and looked at Kyle and Gilthan. “Dang, you two are gonna be beating the ladies off with a stick before the season is halfway over. A pretty boy with dragon heritage and a freaking elemental.” Saber shook his head and turned away.
“Selma, turn the reports in. And you seven, well, you officially belong to me. Oh, not like you belong to House Sorengaard. No, I’m gonna be your worst nightmare. For the next week, we are gonna work you to the breaking point.
I don’t care how freaking strong you are, I’m gonna find a way to push you past your limits. We’re gonna pick apart every weakness that you have and see what you are made of. Winning in the arena takes a hell of a lot more than a strong arm.
Now, follow me. Last one to the arena floor gets to be today’s training dummy.” Then he started running out of the room through a doorway different from the one they came in.
This, Kyle understood. He was still a second slower than he would have liked waiting for Hilde’s translation, but he got the gist of it. This guy was going to try to break them. Kyle laughed inside.
Bring it on.
Chapter 10 - Speed First
Kyle wasn’t the last to the arena. That honor fell to Skrug. The big half-troll was tough, Kyle gave him that. It was likely a really good thing, because being the training dummy wasn’t any fun at all.
Two dozen trainers had been waiting for them when they reached the arena. Each one was equipped with a different weapon ranging from a flail to a longbow. They each demonstrated their weapons and how they could best be used. It took the better part of two hours and ended up essentially being a huge beat down on Skrug.
Sure, they were using dull training weapons, but they were still metal. The arrow still pierced his skin, the spear thrust still drew some blood, and the crack of a mace against his side still brought the audible crack of a bone breaking.
Through it all, Skrug took it. Not passively and certainly not calmly, but he took it all.
He screamed at his attackers with a bestial roar, but every time he lost control and charged or swung at one of them, Saber would neatly put him on his back. The man was lightning fast, but it was more about precision of movement rather than raw
