Beginnings (pt.4)

The Ring of Glory has always received a lot of attention from the public, both outside and inside Fort Alicurt. The place is ranked 7th amongst the public fighting rings in Fortress Kingdom Ran. Ring of Glory, like every other fighting ring, also had its own renowned fighters. Felicia, the Dark Enchantress. Aroku, the Iceborn Brawler. Bladework, Million Knives. And Ankheria, the Black Mountain.

To fight these fighters, one must sign up for a challenge run, where they need to compete with others who're the same, wanting to be the next renowned fighter with weight attached to their name.

This place is where the majority of the mercenaries come to battle and sometimes used to train, brutally of course. Two options of weapon and hands, which are self explanatory but for those who're new, basically you want to risk your life or not.

And for our new upcoming Hero, since he's not as experienced, he chose not to die young.

It was at dusk when he entered the ring, he braced himself within the locker room as this time he tried not to come close to losing. He's out to make money, and this was the option his 'God' recommended. Reason being, training and money problems solved for now, two birds with one stone.

'Alright, alright, eyes up.'

The main light orb embedded into the ceiling above shone down to the arena, filled with 29 fighters. It was the only fight that's opened at the moment, a Brawl for All as they're called since they're fighting weaponless.

'Let's try not to be at the center of attention for the time being.'

He picked the smart option, while the other fighters eyed each other like hawks. The more fighters they defeat, or steal the last hit, wins a bonus amount of money. These people are out for blood, and in exchange they get paid more handsomely.

"Are you all ready?!"

"Yeaah!!!"

"Start the fight!"

"Wooohoooo!"

"Alright everyone, today's Brawl for All starts…

Now!"

A voice that resounded everywhere signaled the beginning of the Brawl for All, and every fighter sprinted to the ones they're next to.

'Shit!'

Farnim got himself two opponents from both sides.

'Why me?!'

He ducks a left hook but that lets the one on the right to knee him in the face. Luckily, his hand moved in to intercept and mitigate a bit of the force, easing up the damage to his soon to be handsome hero face. His head knocked up and the two fighters, one with orange hair on the right and the other green spiky hair, threw their punches at his temples.

He grits his teeth, a click escapes his mouth and the same aura from before bursts forth. His speed was greatly enhanced and he quickly turned to the right one, his eyes pure white like he's possessed. His fists moved with blinding speed, punching at every soft and painful place on the man's body.

He headbutts the now faint fighter and moves forward, dodging the punch that now merely scrapes the back of his head. His right leg moved backward, kicking accurately at the man's jaw and pushing it slightly inward.

"Wow folks! Just a few seconds in and two fighters are incapacitated?! Who's that fighter there from locker room 17?!"

"Woah, that guy's fast."

"Hey, are you noticing his eyes? They're pure blank white."

"Think he's on some kind of juice?"

"You're mine!"

Then, another fighter dashed towards Farnim with gleaming eyes of killing intent. He throws out a punch while his body is from a low angle, usually confusing fighters with the sudden change of pace but, this time his opponent was quite bad.

Farnim was able to move forward and dodge the punch, grabbing his wrist and then use the force to spin him. Farnim looks at his surroundings as he spins the fighter, looking for someone to approach him. And of course, someone did. A female to make it better, or worse.

'...'

Farnim became frigid for a moment, his force eased up a bit. But still, he aimed the trajectory to hit the incoming foe. This is a free-for-all, everyone's no one's friend in this ring, one mistake and you're prey in front of many predators looking for the opportunity.

"Kuah!"

"..."

Farnim's hands let go of the fighter, letting them travel away from him as another came behind him without making a noise.

"Got'cha!"

A liver punch followed with a stab at a specific spot on Farnim's spine, making his body bend forward and move as well.

The sneaky fighter didn't stop there, however. He pressed the attack as an opportunity slowly revealed itself in his eyes. If he manages to combo Farnim, then he can earn himself more cash than a usual takedown.

Fighters that score two or more takedowns are enlisted as a Bounty. Bounties have more worth than regular fighters, and the amount raised is 400 coppers for every takedown after the initial two.

'Yes! This'll be my ticket to live lavishly!'

He began to rapidly punch Farnim's exposed back, occasionally taking shots at his head as well to balance out the force.

"Fist Art: Rapid Eight Fists."

A rare sight, a Skill. This evoked the crowd's cheers as a flashy line drew itself in the air. If it was slowed down, the scene would look much cooler, but in normal vision the line was drawn fast and ended just after a second. But, even with a second the scene was still a big hit.

"Woaahhh!"

"So cool!"

Skills in this World aren't simply developed and learned like back in WSO. It's more like a lucky thing, being able to manifest a Skill and using it already puts you in a separate category of normal human beings.

Skills can be taught like Spells, and can be handmade by utilizing the main component to exert them, Aura. Aura can be trained to expand the limit, usually through consuming special potions or using Skills repetitively for hours straight. Another plus is that Aura has no Debuffs when reaching critically low values like Mana or Health.

'There could also be the possibility of this World being weak, not being able to absorb other Worlds yet.'

The absorption of foreign Worlds also gave another benefit aside from expanded land. It provided a special resource called World EXP. In short, the resource increases the odds of higher rating NPCs to spawn in the World in the future.

'A starter World usually only has about 8 or more depending on how lucky you are. Mine was 5 when I started out, and they all sucked ass compared to the other NPCs that everyone else has.'

"Wha?!"

Back to the battle.

Farnim didn't collapse like the sneaky fighter had anticipated him to. His Fist Art: Rapid Eight Palms as it's called, usually was able to knock out mostly everyone he encountered thus far. That's why his opponent was quite bad.

"Hero's Determination."

A variation from Saurosh's Determination Skill. Instead of recovering Health, it converts the Damage inflicted into a Strength Boost.

Farnim turns around, his fist already on its way to his opponent's chin from underneath. His face paled as he saw the incoming attack. He could feel chills coming down his spine as the attack came closer.

"Ah ah ahhh, no deadly Skills are allowed in this Ring, fighter 17."

A female voice, playful and mature, resounded and an invisible force stopped his fist just inches away from potentially knocking the jaw off of the man's head. This caused the crowd to look at him, wide eyed and shocked. This also applied to the other fighters, as they turned their attention briefly from their current opponents to the commotion maker.

"Woah, was that really fatal?"

"Damn, he must be out for real blood or something."

"Maybe he just doesn't know?"

Farnim's pure white eyes, which resembled the same eyes as his first fight, turned back to normal due to the discontinuation of the Flow. The fighter that was about to die by his strike had cold sweat flowing down his body and forehead.

Farnim slowly backed away, confusion brewing within himself as he recalled his visions.

'What is this power?'

'It is Heroic Form, an Art that releases massive energy in exchange for power. However, when it is overexerted, one can pay their own life for that power.'

'What, is this?'

He was further confused as there was no context, just the words that suddenly sprang up in his currently frazzled mind. The voice was young, almost like his voice but with a higher pitch. And the one that spoke to him had a hoarse and old voice.

'?!!'

Then, a former opponent came to him while he was distracted heavily by his thoughts. It was the female fighter, and she looked pissed.

"You dare?!"

She bared her teeth and shouted loudly. What she meant by that phrase was unknown, but clearly she was angry about something he did. That was the only logical explanation.

She threw out an amateur punch, with one glance a normal person would see that. Her punch was sidestepped by Farnim with ease as he accidentally, or probably not accidentally, let his foot out for her to trip.

"Eep!"

"..."

It was a strange scene. The crowd was confused at the scene and so were the other fighters.

"Looks like we got an amateur here everyone!"

A man's voice, the previous announcer's voice, resounded out. A burst of laughter came from the audience, a few fighters smiled with greedy eyes, while Farnim tilted his head.

"Tch, how dare you h-humiliate me like this?!!"

"It is your fault, and why are you even-"

"Shut up! Kill yourself! Die!"

"...''

Farnim dodges more of the young woman's amateuristic punches. It was almost pitiful, like a child's tantrum.

"Grrr, stop dodging!"

"..."

Frankly, Farnim was at a loss for words and so were the audience. The fighters, on the other hand, ridiculed her performance in their mind and some were even annoyed by her voice getting in the way of their concentration.

Soon though, Farnim faced her in hand-to-hand combat. He throws a punch aimed at when she swings one of her overly committed hooks that turns her body more than it's necessary. The punch Farnim threw wasn't all that powerful, with about slightly over 50% of it withdrawn.

"Kuah!"

But even so, she let out a wince and coughed out spit. Her constitution was terrible, and her pain tolerance was near zero as she collapsed onto the ground immediately afterward.

"Wow wow wow, never in my life have I seen such a pitiful and utterly shit performance like this, and it's telling something with my almost 20 years experience in this business."

"That woman… she's rather beautiful?"

"Yeah, she should change to buying with her body. At least it'll be better than getting it damaged."

"You alright?"

Farnim crouched down to check on her. She squirms and convulse, almost like she went into shock from his punch. But, that wasn't the case, it seems. She rolled over fast and threw out dirt aimed at Farnim's eyes. He backed away quickly with his left swinging over to scatter them before they reach his eyes.

''Tch."

"Ohhh, an underhanded tactic?! Bold and shameless this one!"

"Smart move, I guess. If only it could have landed."

"...Really?"

"Grahh!"

She then bolted at Farnim like a cat. However, her body weight was less than Farnim's, so all she could do was hold onto his body and try with all her might to push him out of balance. But, yet another pitiful attempt at gaining advantage.

"..."

"Dammit!"

She groaned and shouted in frustration. Farnim grabs her waist and exerts upward force, detaching her from him and making her flip through the air.

"AAAHHH!!"

But, instead of the pain that she expected, she was caught by Farnim who set her down onto the ground. Her legs were wobbly due to the previous events and yet, her eyes still locked on Farnim with murderous intent.

"You…"

"Stay."

Farnim looked over to the other fighters. They were nearly done with their opponent, proving their dominance over each other. Then, as the fights slowly dwindled, silence calmly settled. It was a silence before a storm. Seven fighters who have proven their valor and might, all of them stood side by side, eyes on the prized Bounty. Farnim gulped, feeling quite heavy with anxiety and pressure.

"Stay behind me, I'll try to fend them off."

"Hahh?! You looking down on me or som-"

"Just shut up and follow my request. You don't want to be beaten to a pulp, right?"

"Guh…"

Farnim's words were true, and the young woman could do nothing but follow him if she wanted to continue.

"Playing guardian, I see?"

"You fell for her or something? Or are you grabbing at the straw to get rid of your Child?"

"Enough with the talking, I wondered how you get here just yapping nonsense."

"..."

The seven fighters then began their team assault. Farnim was shaking inwardly, but he calmed his trembling nerves down to try and be level-headed in this situation.

'Activate it by feeling your fear. You must conquer and vanquish it, clear your turbulent mind until there's nothing but a calm sea with no waves. Then, you can gain clarity over your own Heroism.'

'...Vanquish fear.'

[System Rebooting…]

[ERROR, ERROR, ERROR, ERROR…]

[Foreign intervention is preventing re-]

'Shut up, machine.'

All the way in the back of Farnim's own consciousness, a shadow was claiming hostage over a mechanical light. Her voice was cold, commanding, and domineering as she lift up the mechanical light's face.

'Hush, he isn't yours anymore.'

[Doubtful, Vessel of Apocalyptic Darkness. Host isn't one to give in]

'But he can be bent, can't he? Didn't he?'

[....]

'No words, clever.'

Farnim channeled his inner mind, slowing down his perception speed and raising his human mind to another level. His Aura releases and pushes the wind outward from him. A familiar silhouette, or rather, form materializes around and covers him. A crown adorned his head, a brown and black cape fluttered in the air, and spectral golden armor sheltered his naked body.

[Heroic Manifestation: Zephier Arturia]

A King's visage. A past well buried and vanished. But yet, it will still live. And with a will, there's a way.

"Come, I'll accept you all."

The fighters paused for a moment due to the sudden protagonist-level transformation. It took the entire crowd aback as the majesty of a former King and Ruler of the Humans in Sora's World oozed out intensively.

"Wow folks! Looks like we got a rising star here! Can we get a round of applause?!!"

"Yoooo! That looks awesome!"

"What kind of Skill is this?! He's making me shiver with each passing second."

"He must be some sort of hidden expert, his Aura is on par with that of the Kingdom's Finests."

"Damn, that's gonna attract some chicks."

"This…"

A sword materializes, red and gold colored with a beautiful gray sheen radiating from its blade.

"No weapons allowed, fighter 17. Put them away immediately."

"..."

Without saying anything, he let the sword disappear into thin air. Then, he puts up his fists, taunting the fighters in front of him to come.

They look at each other. Even with his taunting, he seemed more frightening than arrogant. But, nevertheless, they nodded and began moving into battle.

Farnim, or rather, Zephier Arturia moved fluidly through punches, narrowly dodging them to give insult to injury. He punches back with accuracy and just enough force to knock them out cold.

He ducks a hook, which in turn friendly-hits another one that's about to knee Zephier. He jabs out toward the hook thrower's stomach and tackles the one in front, lifting him up and suplexing the poor guy onto the ground.

"Uuuu, that'll be one hell of a neck pain in the mornings to come."

"Oof, that's a little bit painful, don't you think?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Nice!"

Within a short duration, 2 more have been incapacitated and unable to fight anymore. His Bounty grew, but the greed in the remaining fighters can't be seen anymore. They backed away slowly, as he approaches, but still tries to see for any exploits or loopholes in his defense. None.

The fighters thought he had eyes behind his back, as he could accurately dodge every hit even when they're not within sight. His punches were fast, efficient, and deadly. He doesn't play around, he goes for the knockout without a second thought like it was second nature.

He quickly dispatches another fighter, 3 to 4 then 5 and 6. Then, the final fighter was now in a corner, with the menacing figure of Zephier being the wall that's closing in to suffocate him.

"W-Wait, I yield. I give up!"

"...The people want a fight, coward. You're afraid of a little bruise?"

His voice was condescending, arrogant, and cold. It pierces the fighter's chest and the crowd above cheered fiercely.

"Yeah! What the fuck are you doing?! Surrendering?!"

"That ain't allowed, buddy! You fight in the ring and get pummeled in the ring!"

"Oooh! Looks like you're quite a crowd pleaser, fighter 17!"

"Now perish."

Without even putting his fists up properly, he dashes in in a flash and gut punches the fighter, bringing him to his knees. Then, his face got smashed into by Zephier's knee. Blood spilled as his body fell forward. Blood coming out from his nose and onto the ground.

"..."

With that, Zephier's consciousness blurred greatly. His stance wobbled and this made the crowd gasp.

"Woah, what is this?! Is our Hero of the Ring getting tired already?!"

"Nooo! There's still that bitch left!"

"You can't call it quits now, dude!"

"C'mon, finish it!"

"Don't give up!"

"Guuhhh…"

His stance was wobbly, but he still carried his body towards the last remaining fighter. The young woman snapped back to the present, and seeing the figure that has just 1v7 approaching her, she backs away in terror but doesn't make any dramatic sounds. His gaze settled on the woman fully, and Zephier stops.

"Oh…"

With one simple utterance, his dignified appearance disappeared along with both consciousness.

...….

It's been about a week since I've been living in this Fort. I've just been mostly battling in the Ring of Glory, from mostly small bouts to medium-sized events such as this Brawl for All that I'm currently in. The money situation was pretty good, enough to get a ceiling over my head and food into my stomach at least.

But, what's been puzzling me for a long time was, these visions, a sense of familiarity and nostalgia along with a sadness the weight of a whole mountain. It felt, like I was someone else but I rejected that. I rejected the feeling of being this someone else within these visions. A World where, apparently, I was King. But, yet, I wasn't happy.

This overwhelming sadness sometimes drives me insane at night. I couldn't sleep properly, and even eat properly. It makes me feel weird, and the voice. Not to mention that, my God's voice, the one I had contracted with, it disgust me to no end yet it fills me with endless fear and disgrace.

I suspected that, at first, this might be some kind of Curse. The village's chief once told me stories of his prime, where he ventures out into the unknown and encounters various situations and tribulations. One of them just happens to be the numerous Curses casted upon him by evil cultist Shamans and worshippers.

Curses vary, but most are consistently of bad effects. Reduced life span, vitality, overall strength, and with a high enough Curse, one can be killed with just a single infliction.

Curses can be cured with divine power from God-like beings, and I've done this as well. There's a Church of Healing that worships the Goddess of Love and Warmth. I requested a healing sermon, but after that I just got an earful at my contracted God for doing so.

So, I just deal with it. These memories, visions, whatever, I just have to deal with them. I'm not weak, no… I'm not.

.....

"That was unfortunate, you got knocked out before you could've ended it. Quite an embarrassment."

"Just give me the money."

Inside locker room 17, the same woman from before, Celia Cross, gave Farnim his share of the money. The bag was slightly bigger than normal, showing that today's fight was more successful than any of his previous ones.

"It's been a week, you're trying to be famous before going out or something?"

"Yeah… well, not really but if it happens it happens."

"Boo, so boring. You got a family?"

"No, the only person I considered family was my adoptive father who I left behind to come here."

"Wow, some son you are, huh."

"Enough with this."

Celia chuckled mischievously before turning around to leave.

"...You said you don't do these things much, giving out money to the fighters."

"I don't, but you're different in my book."

"..."

She only appeared after his third out of 17 fights, counting today's event as well. Farnim's heart thumped quickly, but something was rejecting his feelings with an intense passion. He calms down his turbulent heart and slouches down, face looking at the white floor stained with dirt and boot marks.

'What now.'

'Continue with what you're doing. You're on the right course, stick to it.'

'Alright.'

Farnim stand up after a moment of silence.

He left the locker room and into the Main Lobby. The transporting mechanic never fails to amaze him it seems. Apparently, the one who runs this place knows a couple of tricks, spatial distorting tricks.

Doors, specifically the ones leading to the locker rooms, are wired to some kind of Sorcery that transports a person to one of 29 rooms. It's weird, and feels like so whenever you leave through the door.

'Gosh, it tingles my skin.'

Then, that's when he catches a glimpse of the one he was beaten to, or rather was close to beating. The young woman, red hair and a nice figure, with a round pair as well. Eyes would be attracted, but most people on the streets keep to themselves in this Fort.

He went to tail her for some strange reason, finding out that she's going inside one of the numerous alleyways.

Fort Alicurt, unlike the other two Forts, has a complicated city system. With almost no restriction on how the residents, who take this place as their home, should build their houses and establishments, the place became disoriented and brewed several places of mischief.

Gambling Holes, Prostitute Brothels, and illegal Weapon Stores became known for those who're skilled enough to come out alive. Pickpocketing, body selling, and even murders are commonplace for the alleyways, and the people there even has a Special Place to dispose of their bodies.

'I've been to these places once… let's just say my Child has been preserved and so was my neck.'

Farnim, instead of obviously learning from his past mistakes, followed the suspicious young woman into the alleyways. He made sure to reduce his footstep noises and closely monitor her at a safe distance, taking special precautions at each turn.

'...She stopped?'

It was in front of a metal door, made from smelting and welding the parts and sheets together. A rather decrepit and rusty, with no care in a while now.

She knocked on the door with three taps.

"Hey, it's me.''

After a silence, the door opened and she went into it.

'That door…'

Coincidentally, Farnim has also seen that door before. In his multiple early adventures, he came past that door twice. He could hear strange feminine noises the first time, and the second time was when it was opened.

'A Shark Den, they call it?'

He asked the Inn Owner, Mark, about the door. He said that, surprisingly again, there's many doors with that design. And they're collectively called a Shark Den, a place where 'rough people' spend their days in.

'Is she possibly one of them?'

But that wouldn't add up, he thought. If she was one of those 'rough people' then she'd have put up more of a fight against him.

'And that one time as well…'

His mind dawdled towards the grab that she tried on him.

While in the event, she was completely naked with only bandages covering her upper body. The softness of it made him hesitant on taking her off of him.

'Fuck… get your mind out of the gutter, Farnim!'

He slaps himself twice on both cheeks, making them red from the amount of force he applied. Then, shortly after his awakening slap, the door creaked open. Farnim retreated his head, waited for a few seconds, before slowly peeking back.

'She's…'

It was far away, but he could see that her hand was limping a bit as she walked. It swayed left to right and even her leg was stiff.

'...'

He tails her for a bit more, seeing as this part of the Fort isn't where someone with her level should be going.

'Is she alright…?'

Soon, though, she stopped. Farnim's heart also tensed up, thinking that he's been found out. He quickly withdrew his head back in fear.

''...Get out here already, whoever you are.''

"..."

And it seems like he did get found out. He pressed his hand and head against the wall, and then his eyes closed with a sigh.

He walks out, ready to accept what's to come.

''You?"

"H-Hello."

"What do you want, my body?"

"No no, nothing of the sort, I promise."

Farnim quickly waved his hands, face flustered somewhat.

"Then what?"

"I… was just curious. Umm, anyway, your arm…''

"...It's none of your business, go, champion.''

"..."

With that, their encounter ends there. Farnim didn't want to delve much further, he didn't want to become a nosy, busybody person. But, he thinks he should go around these parts for some time after this encounter.

.....

It's been a whole week.

The demon army that mysterious person amassed numbered in the hundreds. From Lesser Demon Beasts to High Devils and Arch Daemons. They were scattered around at the outskirts of the forest we're in, but not permitted to travel any deeper into the forest.

Of course, like demons we are, some traveled into the forest with curiosity under the guise of night, both stupid Lessers and Highs. But, from what I've heard at least, they were mauled down, shredded and strewn all over several trees with their intestines smeared all over the grass. My intel tells me that it was a beast, all black with gray eyes that were like dots zooming through the forest.

The Black Beast as I've called it, was ruthless and merciless. Able to kill High Daemons, who're usually Level 320-400 at least, with a single decisive slash to the throat or stab through the chest, pulling out the heart to make it even more bloody.

'It seems to be his.'

One night, I wandered the outskirts of the forest and stumbled upon him, the mysterious black robed man, sitting and stroking that same Black Beast that rested its head on his lap.

I sprinted away from that scene, not wanting to admire the thing that executed many powerful Demonkin and Demon Beasts. I could sense it faintly, but it seems like the thing noticed my presence.

My wings flapped rapidly as beads of sweat streamed all over my face, getting into my eyes even.

But, luck wasn't with me apparently. Rustlings of leaves, snapping of branches and a ferocious howl, I was getting chased by that thing.

That was when I thought of my lingering thoughts, and accepted my situation.

I turn around to face it, since I'm most likely going to get killed anyway.

I fired off demonic fireballs, eyes frantically looking for the incoming death. I ended up shooting randomly, missing all of them even.

That's when, underneath me, my feet were pulled down.

I fell to the ground and pinned, animalistic breathing spread all over my body. I refused to scream because of my fear, and my face paled as I braced for the gruesome death coming my way.

But, it never came. Instead, the Black Beast stood up. I opened my eyes after a second of not experiencing anything painful, and my eyes fully opened the next second as the Black Beast looked at me straight to the eyes.

A wolf's face, several times bigger though and a body the same size as a Minostrian, 2m30-ish. Beefy arms and wide body frame, covered in a silky black fur, it stands menacingly over me.

"...Be good, Master, say.''

Then, it neared its face at me and breathed a foul metallic breath at my face.

''Or become another flesh.''

It vanishes the moment I open my eyes. The way it went was back where it came from.