Chapter 366.: Making Enemies
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
Dame Vesuvia was Itella’s babysitter? When Dallion had seen her for the first time, back in his village, he was in awe of her power. Among the soldiers, even the Cleric of the Order, she had the presence of a goddess sent by the Archduke to destroy the monsters of the world. The power level between her and Dallion had been so vast that she couldn’t even compliment him directly. And now, Dallion was about to face someone of the family under which she had been employed. The thought sent chills down Dallion’s spine, but also filled him with eagerness and determination. This was an opportunity to see how much he had improved.
Remember overconfidence, dear boy, Nil reminded. Your goal isn’t to win.
It isn’t to lose, either, Dallion said. I’ll have more time if I win.
While correct, that was an excuse and everyone knew it. Dallion was clueless regarding the other’s skills. Attempting to get information from the noble’s weapons and gear ended in failure. The most he was able to learn was through a brief conversation with the temporary walls of the arena battle grid. If the guardian in question was to be believed, Itella had a strong sense of the base four skills and nothing more. The shape and nature of his weapons indicated that he didn’t know carving—which was a relief—though gave no indication as for the other skills. Combat splitting was a given—one didn’t reach this stage of the competition without it. Special items were also a certainty, although Dallion wasn’t able to sense anything hidden.
The countess marked the start of the round. Immediately fighters dashed forward, clashing against one another as hundreds of instances exploded throughout the arena floor. Dallion and Itella, however, didn’t budge.
“Two swords and two daggers,” the noble said. There was no music in his voice, suggesting he was merely engaging in banter.
“One dagger,” Dallion corrected. On his part, he put as much reluctance in his words as he could, using his music skill. “The other is a gift I keep along.”
“Some gift. Crystal weapons are rare in the best of circumstances.”
The sound of envy resonated through Itella’s body. It was clear that he thought the gift was unworthy of someone such as Dallion. However, this was more than a class difference. Dallion had the feeling that his opponent’s disappointment stemmed from the fact that Dallion didn’t know the item’s worth.
I guess I must thank you, after all, Aspan, Dallion thought.
“It was a parting gift.” A steady dose of fatigue was added to Dallion’s words. And still, there was no reaction on the part of his opponent. Could it be that Itella was wearing some protection item, or was he humoring Dallion? Either way, Dallion decided not to let the opportunity go to waste. “So, Dame Vesuvian was your baby sitter? I can’t imagine her in the role.”
“It was a long time ago.” The noble took hold of both of his maces.
This was Dallion’s cue to draw his whip blade as well.
“I’ve just one question,” Dallion said, this time using his music skill to direct a dose of precision on himself. “You’re familiar with the way I fight. Why give me such an opportunity?” A taunt of overconfidence was subtly added to the mix.
“Because it’s to my advantage.”
The words might have been true, but uttering them was definitely a mistake. Dallion was able to sense a momentary regret in his opponent.
He’s using echoes! Dallion thought. That was the reason the noble wasn’t afraid of the music skill—the echoes within his realm were working hard on negating the effects.
And you thought you were relying on your guardians too much, dear boy, Nil laughed. As I’ve mentioned, someone like him probably has dozens of echoes maintaining his realm, advising him what to do, and countering any external influences. I’d say he’s letting you make the first move so they could determine what strategy to use.
Dallion smiled. If that was the game Itella and his echoes were playing, it was time to force them to tip their hand.
“If it’s to both our advantage, I’ll keep on doing it.” Dallion outright sang, adding speed and endurance, targeted towards himself. He suspected that his opponent wouldn’t allow this to continue for long, and he was very much right.
On the instant, Itella burst into a dozen instances and dashed forward.
Dallion quickly followed suit. Maintaining that number of instances felt somewhat uncomfortable, but with his mind at twenty-five, he was able to maintain them without issue. However, just as he was about to choose the most favorable instance as reality, an invisible force pulled him away, sticking him to a less favorable one.
What happened? Dallion jumped back. His left arm pulsed in pain that even the armadil shield had failed to prevent.
It appears you’ve been pulled to his instance, Nil said, sounding annoyingly intrigued. Rather fascinating.
How did that happen?
I’ve no idea, I’m afraid. You’ll have to ask Vend. He’s the expert. Clearly, he’s not the only one who knows a few tricks.
Itella burst into another set of instances, each following up on his attack. Only this time, Dallion seized the moment, extending his whip blade and lashing at the noble just as the combat splitting took place. The attack itself was deflected with ease, but in the process, it cut off all of the other instances, making them fade away.
If that’s how you want it, Dallion thought, going on the offensive. His whip blade danced throughout the arena grid to the cheers of the crowd. Apparently, quite a lot of them were looking forward to this moment. The attack wasn’t as lethal as those of many of the other participants, but it was undoubtedly the most entertaining. Of the sixty-four participants, Dallion was the only one left who had a chained type of weapon. Everyone else was sticking to close ranged items, with two even favoring gauntlets.
There was a moment’s pause. Itella was visibly confused by the outcome. It seemed that Vend’s trick was new to them as well. It was as if they had just found that they were at a stalemate and were now discussing how to proceed further.
“Seems we both have surprises,” Dallion said. “Pity they negate each other.”
What Dallion chose not to add was that instance breaking was rather difficult and required extreme precision. Even after all the practice, getting the moment occurred at best two out of three times. Instance pulling—for lack of a better term—appeared much less forgiving. For one thing, it took place in a relatively risk-free period, when everything was already done and failing would cause no harm whatsoever.
Instead of a response, the noble burst into eighteen instances, two-thirds of them charging forward. Dallion expected such a reaction, which was why he was already focusing on the moment. The whip blade slashed through the air, hitting Itella on the side and once again causing his instances to fade away.
Internally Dallion let out a sigh of relief. That was a bit too close for comfort. Once again, Itella paused, reassessing the situation.
Ready, Gleam? Dallion asked, taking advantage of the pause.
I’ve been waiting for this, the shardfly replied.
Dallion rushed forward, pulling back the elements of the whip blade. When he was five feet away, he performed a piercing attack, extending the weapon once more. The speed at which the tip of the blade moved was far faster than it had been before. Thanks to his stats, the noble managed to twist and leap aside just before the weapon reached him. However, the attack didn’t end there. Controlled by the shardfly, the segments of the blade turned on their own, matching his actions. It seemed inevitable that they would hit him in the middle of the breastplate. Before that could happen, however, the maces Itella was holding transformed as well.
Unfolding like an origami, the weapons shifted from being maces to axes with heads large enough to block the attack. The force pushed the noble a few steps back, but even so, no real damage was done.
What sort of weapon is that? Dallion asked. He had seen quite a few references for transforming weapons, but all of them only did so in the realms. The only exception was the whip blade he was holding, but even that didn’t exactly change form.
That, dear boy, is a magic weapon, Nil said. What is more, knowledge about it seems to be sealed, suggesting it’s an heirloom. I suggest you keep your distance. There’s no telling if transformation is its only trick.
Choosing not to risk splitting into instances, Itella continued the fight, relying exclusively on his weapons’ abilities. There was no doubt that he had done a lot of training, since his skills matched the fighting style to the letter. The ease with which he transformed the shape of the “maces” into something that suited him was admirable. It was as if he were doing calligraphy, but with weapons. If Gleam wasn’t controlling Dallion’s weapon, Dallion would have already lost.
He’s focused on mind and reaction, Dallion thought. Based on the few hits that Dallion had suffered, his opponent’s strength was considerably weaker than Dallion’s. In his experience that was a first. Maybe having no restrictions was a much greater advantage than he thought.
Feeling confident, Dallion drew his Nox dagger. Holding it was quite uncomfortable with the armadil shield strapped to his hand, but thanks to the Vihrogon he could be confident that neither would slide off. Waiting for the precise moment Dallion attacked. The goal wasn’t to wound his opponent, but rather to damage his weapon—just enough to negate its shapeshifting ability. And to Dallion’s surprise, he succeeded.
Itella moved his left weapon in front of him, having its head unfold to the size of a buckler. To everyone’s surprise, the dagger’s blade passed through, piercing it like a nail going through a sheet of metal foil. A scream only Dallion could hear filled the air—the pain of a guardian that had just been wounded.
What the heck? Dallion immediately leaps back. Nox, what did you do?
Meow? the familiar asked. This was no different from any other attack he had done in the realm or in the real world. It wasn’t unusual for him to chip off pieces of what he clawed, or even create a spiderweb crack, but piercing through a weapon with such ease was a first.
The noble was just as surprised, if not more. His immediate reaction was to leap back a dozen feet, shielding the damaged weapon from additional harm. For a moment Dallion felt utter terror resonating through him.
Gleam, stop! Dallion ordered.
The whip blade fragments pulled back, forming a solid blade once more. Several seconds passed in silence, both opponents looking at each other. Dallion could feel the hesitation emanating from the other. He wanted to continue the fight. Even after the slight mishap with the weapon, he had the skills and the weapon to achieve victory. However, the reluctance and fear were greater—not fear of Dallion, but something else.
“You have this round,” the noble said and turned around.
Half of the arena went silent. The spectators weren’t pleased to be denied a spectacle, but didn’t want to be boo a noble of such importance either. Waves of confusion filled the air, followed by whispers and theories about what had happened.
Congratulations, dear boy. You’ve won your fourth battle.
Why? Dallion asked.
Can’t say that I’m sure. Very likely it might come down to a trivial matter such as damaging a valuable heirloom. Not that I understand how Nox did that. He can be quite the handful at times, but even so, I doubt he should have affected a magical weapon in such fashion. I guess we’ll never know.
While winning in this fashion felt like cheating, it was still a victory. Also, from what Dallion could tell, Itella’s weapon was only damaged. Even if in pain, the guardian was still alive.
“Want me to mend your weapon?” Dallion asked. “I’ll be glad to.”
The noble glared at him over his shoulder, then kept walking.
One thing that we can be fairly sure of is that you didn’t gain any new friends today, Nil said. If you’re still alive after the end of the festival, better start thinking of ways to make up for his humiliation. Nobles are petty and have long memories.
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Dame Vesuvia was Itella’s babysitter? When Dallion had seen her for the first time, back in his village, he was in awe of her power. Among the soldiers, even the Cleric of the Order, she had the presence of a goddess sent by the Archduke to destroy the monsters of the world. The power level between her and Dallion had been so vast that she couldn’t even compliment him directly. And now, Dallion was about to face someone of the family under which she had been employed. The thought sent chills down Dallion’s spine, but also filled him with eagerness and determination. This was an opportunity to see how much he had improved.
Remember overconfidence, dear boy, Nil reminded. Your goal isn’t to win.
It isn’t to lose, either, Dallion said. I’ll have more time if I win.
While correct, that was an excuse and everyone knew it. Dallion was clueless regarding the other’s skills. Attempting to get information from the noble’s weapons and gear ended in failure. The most he was able to learn was through a brief conversation with the temporary walls of the arena battle grid. If the guardian in question was to be believed, Itella had a strong sense of the base four skills and nothing more. The shape and nature of his weapons indicated that he didn’t know carving—which was a relief—though gave no indication as for the other skills. Combat splitting was a given—one didn’t reach this stage of the competition without it. Special items were also a certainty, although Dallion wasn’t able to sense anything hidden.
The countess marked the start of the round. Immediately fighters dashed forward, clashing against one another as hundreds of instances exploded throughout the arena floor. Dallion and Itella, however, didn’t budge.
“Two swords and two daggers,” the noble said. There was no music in his voice, suggesting he was merely engaging in banter.
“One dagger,” Dallion corrected. On his part, he put as much reluctance in his words as he could, using his music skill. “The other is a gift I keep along.”
“Some gift. Crystal weapons are rare in the best of circumstances.”
The sound of envy resonated through Itella’s body. It was clear that he thought the gift was unworthy of someone such as Dallion. However, this was more than a class difference. Dallion had the feeling that his opponent’s disappointment stemmed from the fact that Dallion didn’t know the item’s worth.
I guess I must thank you, after all, Aspan, Dallion thought.
“It was a parting gift.” A steady dose of fatigue was added to Dallion’s words. And still, there was no reaction on the part of his opponent. Could it be that Itella was wearing some protection item, or was he humoring Dallion? Either way, Dallion decided not to let the opportunity go to waste. “So, Dame Vesuvian was your baby sitter? I can’t imagine her in the role.”
“It was a long time ago.” The noble took hold of both of his maces.
This was Dallion’s cue to draw his whip blade as well.
“I’ve just one question,” Dallion said, this time using his music skill to direct a dose of precision on himself. “You’re familiar with the way I fight. Why give me such an opportunity?” A taunt of overconfidence was subtly added to the mix.
“Because it’s to my advantage.”
The words might have been true, but uttering them was definitely a mistake. Dallion was able to sense a momentary regret in his opponent.
He’s using echoes! Dallion thought. That was the reason the noble wasn’t afraid of the music skill—the echoes within his realm were working hard on negating the effects.
And you thought you were relying on your guardians too much, dear boy, Nil laughed. As I’ve mentioned, someone like him probably has dozens of echoes maintaining his realm, advising him what to do, and countering any external influences. I’d say he’s letting you make the first move so they could determine what strategy to use.
Dallion smiled. If that was the game Itella and his echoes were playing, it was time to force them to tip their hand.
“If it’s to both our advantage, I’ll keep on doing it.” Dallion outright sang, adding speed and endurance, targeted towards himself. He suspected that his opponent wouldn’t allow this to continue for long, and he was very much right.
On the instant, Itella burst into a dozen instances and dashed forward.
Dallion quickly followed suit. Maintaining that number of instances felt somewhat uncomfortable, but with his mind at twenty-five, he was able to maintain them without issue. However, just as he was about to choose the most favorable instance as reality, an invisible force pulled him away, sticking him to a less favorable one.
What happened? Dallion jumped back. His left arm pulsed in pain that even the armadil shield had failed to prevent.
It appears you’ve been pulled to his instance, Nil said, sounding annoyingly intrigued. Rather fascinating.
How did that happen?
I’ve no idea, I’m afraid. You’ll have to ask Vend. He’s the expert. Clearly, he’s not the only one who knows a few tricks.
Itella burst into another set of instances, each following up on his attack. Only this time, Dallion seized the moment, extending his whip blade and lashing at the noble just as the combat splitting took place. The attack itself was deflected with ease, but in the process, it cut off all of the other instances, making them fade away.
If that’s how you want it, Dallion thought, going on the offensive. His whip blade danced throughout the arena grid to the cheers of the crowd. Apparently, quite a lot of them were looking forward to this moment. The attack wasn’t as lethal as those of many of the other participants, but it was undoubtedly the most entertaining. Of the sixty-four participants, Dallion was the only one left who had a chained type of weapon. Everyone else was sticking to close ranged items, with two even favoring gauntlets.
There was a moment’s pause. Itella was visibly confused by the outcome. It seemed that Vend’s trick was new to them as well. It was as if they had just found that they were at a stalemate and were now discussing how to proceed further.
“Seems we both have surprises,” Dallion said. “Pity they negate each other.”
What Dallion chose not to add was that instance breaking was rather difficult and required extreme precision. Even after all the practice, getting the moment occurred at best two out of three times. Instance pulling—for lack of a better term—appeared much less forgiving. For one thing, it took place in a relatively risk-free period, when everything was already done and failing would cause no harm whatsoever.
Instead of a response, the noble burst into eighteen instances, two-thirds of them charging forward. Dallion expected such a reaction, which was why he was already focusing on the moment. The whip blade slashed through the air, hitting Itella on the side and once again causing his instances to fade away.
Internally Dallion let out a sigh of relief. That was a bit too close for comfort. Once again, Itella paused, reassessing the situation.
Ready, Gleam? Dallion asked, taking advantage of the pause.
I’ve been waiting for this, the shardfly replied.
Dallion rushed forward, pulling back the elements of the whip blade. When he was five feet away, he performed a piercing attack, extending the weapon once more. The speed at which the tip of the blade moved was far faster than it had been before. Thanks to his stats, the noble managed to twist and leap aside just before the weapon reached him. However, the attack didn’t end there. Controlled by the shardfly, the segments of the blade turned on their own, matching his actions. It seemed inevitable that they would hit him in the middle of the breastplate. Before that could happen, however, the maces Itella was holding transformed as well.
Unfolding like an origami, the weapons shifted from being maces to axes with heads large enough to block the attack. The force pushed the noble a few steps back, but even so, no real damage was done.
What sort of weapon is that? Dallion asked. He had seen quite a few references for transforming weapons, but all of them only did so in the realms. The only exception was the whip blade he was holding, but even that didn’t exactly change form.
That, dear boy, is a magic weapon, Nil said. What is more, knowledge about it seems to be sealed, suggesting it’s an heirloom. I suggest you keep your distance. There’s no telling if transformation is its only trick.
Choosing not to risk splitting into instances, Itella continued the fight, relying exclusively on his weapons’ abilities. There was no doubt that he had done a lot of training, since his skills matched the fighting style to the letter. The ease with which he transformed the shape of the “maces” into something that suited him was admirable. It was as if he were doing calligraphy, but with weapons. If Gleam wasn’t controlling Dallion’s weapon, Dallion would have already lost.
He’s focused on mind and reaction, Dallion thought. Based on the few hits that Dallion had suffered, his opponent’s strength was considerably weaker than Dallion’s. In his experience that was a first. Maybe having no restrictions was a much greater advantage than he thought.
Feeling confident, Dallion drew his Nox dagger. Holding it was quite uncomfortable with the armadil shield strapped to his hand, but thanks to the Vihrogon he could be confident that neither would slide off. Waiting for the precise moment Dallion attacked. The goal wasn’t to wound his opponent, but rather to damage his weapon—just enough to negate its shapeshifting ability. And to Dallion’s surprise, he succeeded.
Itella moved his left weapon in front of him, having its head unfold to the size of a buckler. To everyone’s surprise, the dagger’s blade passed through, piercing it like a nail going through a sheet of metal foil. A scream only Dallion could hear filled the air—the pain of a guardian that had just been wounded.
What the heck? Dallion immediately leaps back. Nox, what did you do?
Meow? the familiar asked. This was no different from any other attack he had done in the realm or in the real world. It wasn’t unusual for him to chip off pieces of what he clawed, or even create a spiderweb crack, but piercing through a weapon with such ease was a first.
The noble was just as surprised, if not more. His immediate reaction was to leap back a dozen feet, shielding the damaged weapon from additional harm. For a moment Dallion felt utter terror resonating through him.
Gleam, stop! Dallion ordered.
The whip blade fragments pulled back, forming a solid blade once more. Several seconds passed in silence, both opponents looking at each other. Dallion could feel the hesitation emanating from the other. He wanted to continue the fight. Even after the slight mishap with the weapon, he had the skills and the weapon to achieve victory. However, the reluctance and fear were greater—not fear of Dallion, but something else.
“You have this round,” the noble said and turned around.
Half of the arena went silent. The spectators weren’t pleased to be denied a spectacle, but didn’t want to be boo a noble of such importance either. Waves of confusion filled the air, followed by whispers and theories about what had happened.
Congratulations, dear boy. You’ve won your fourth battle.
Why? Dallion asked.
Can’t say that I’m sure. Very likely it might come down to a trivial matter such as damaging a valuable heirloom. Not that I understand how Nox did that. He can be quite the handful at times, but even so, I doubt he should have affected a magical weapon in such fashion. I guess we’ll never know.
While winning in this fashion felt like cheating, it was still a victory. Also, from what Dallion could tell, Itella’s weapon was only damaged. Even if in pain, the guardian was still alive.
“Want me to mend your weapon?” Dallion asked. “I’ll be glad to.”
The noble glared at him over his shoulder, then kept walking.
One thing that we can be fairly sure of is that you didn’t gain any new friends today, Nil said. If you’re still alive after the end of the festival, better start thinking of ways to make up for his humiliation. Nobles are petty and have long memories.
Dame Vesuvia was Itella's babysitter? When Dallion had seen her for the first time, back in his village, he was in awe of her power. Among the soldiers, even the Cleric of the Order, she had the presence of a goddess sent by the Archduke to destroy the monsters of the world. The power level between her and Dallion had been so vast that she couldn't even compliment him directly. And now, Dallion was about to face someone of the family under which she had been employed. The thought sent chills down Dallion's spine, but also filled him with eagerness and determination. This was an opportunity to see how much he had improved.Remember overconfidence, dear boy, Nil reminded. Your goal isn't to win.It isn't to lose, either, Dallion said. I'll have more time if I win.While correct, that was an excuse and everyone knew it. Dallion was clueless regarding the other's skills. Attempting to get information from the noble's weapons and gear ended in failure. The most he was able to learn was through a brief conversation with the temporary walls of the arena battle grid. If the guardian in question was to be believed, Itella had a strong sense of the base four skills and nothing more. The shape and nature of his weapons indicated that he didn't know carvingwhich was a reliefthough gave no indication as for the other skills. Combat splitting was a givenone didn't reach this stage of the competition without it. Special items were also a certainty, although Dallion wasn't able to sense anything hidden.The countess marked the start of the round. Immediately fighters dashed forward, clashing against one another as hundreds of instances exploded throughout the arena floor. Dallion and Itella, however, didn't budge.Two swords and two daggers, the noble said. There was no music in his voice, suggesting he was merely engaging in banter.One dagger, Dallion corrected. On his part, he put as much reluctance in his words as he could, using his music skill. The other is a gift I keep along.Some gift. Crystal weapons are rare in the best of circumstances.The sound of envy resonated through Itella's body. It was clear that he thought the gift was unworthy of someone such as Dallion. However, this was more than a class difference. Dallion had the feeling that his opponent's disappointment stemmed from the fact that Dallion didn't know the item's worth.I guess I must thank you, after all, Aspan, Dallion thought.It was a parting gift. A steady dose of fatigue was added to Dallion's words. And still, there was no reaction on the part of his opponent. Could it be that Itella was wearing some protection item, or was he humoring Dallion? Either way, Dallion decided not to let the opportunity go to waste. So, Dame Vesuvian was your baby sitter? I can't imagine her in the role.It was a long time ago. The noble took hold of both of his maces.This was Dallion's cue to draw his whip blade as well.I've just one question, Dallion said, this time using his music skill to direct a dose of precision on himself. You're familiar with the way I fight. Why give me such an opportunity? A taunt of overconfidence was subtly added to the mix.Because it's to my advantage.The words might have been true, but uttering them was definitely a mistake. Dallion was able to sense a momentary regret in his opponent.He's using echoes! Dallion thought. That was the reason the noble wasn't afraid of the music skillthe echoes within his realm were working hard on negating the effects.And you thought you were relying on your guardians too much, dear boy, Nil laughed. As I've mentioned, someone like him probably has dozens of echoes maintaining his realm, advising him what to do, and countering any external influences. I'd say he's letting you make the first move so they could determine what strategy to use.Dallion smiled. If that was the game Itella and his echoes were playing, it was time to force them to tip their hand.If it's to both our advantage, I'll keep on doing it. Dallion outright sang, adding speed and endurance, targeted towards himself. He suspected that his opponent wouldn't allow this to continue for long, and he was very much right.On the instant, Itella burst into a dozen instances and dashed forward.Dallion quickly followed suit. Maintaining that number of instances felt somewhat uncomfortable, but with his mind at twenty-five, he was able to maintain them without issue. However, just as he was about to choose the most favorable instance as reality, an invisible force pulled him away, sticking him to a less favorable one.What happened? Dallion jumped back. His left arm pulsed in pain that even the armadil shield had failed to prevent.It appears you've been pulled to his instance, Nil said, sounding annoyingly intrigued. Rather fascinating.How did that happen?I've no idea, I'm afraid. You'll have to ask Vend. He's the expert. Clearly, he's not the only one who knows a few tricks.Itella burst into another set of instances, each following up on his attack. Only this time, Dallion seized the moment, extending his whip blade and lashing at the noble just as the combat splitting took place. The attack itself was deflected with ease, but in the process, it cut off all of the other instances, making them fade away.If that's how you want it, Dallion thought, going on the offensive. His whip blade danced throughout the arena grid to the cheers of the crowd. Apparently, quite a lot of them were looking forward to this moment. The attack wasn't as lethal as those of many of the other participants, but it was undoubtedly the most entertaining. Of the sixty-four participants, Dallion was the only one left who had a chained type of weapon. Everyone else was sticking to close ranged items, with two even favoring gauntlets.There was a moment's pause. Itella was visibly confused by the outcome. It seemed that Vend's trick was new to them as well. It was as if they had just found that they were at a stalemate and were now discussing how to proceed further.Seems we both have surprises, Dallion said. Pity they negate each other.What Dallion chose not to add was that instance breaking was rather difficult and required extreme precision. Even after all the practice, getting the moment occurred at best two out of three times. Instance pullingfor lack of a better termappeared much less forgiving. For one thing, it took place in a relatively risk-free period, when everything was already done and failing would cause no harm whatsoever.Instead of a response, the noble burst into eighteen instances, two-thirds of them charging forward. Dallion expected such a reaction, which was why he was already focusing on the moment. The whip blade slashed through the air, hitting Itella on the side and once again causing his instances to fade away.Internally Dallion let out a sigh of relief. That was a bit too close for comfort. Once again, Itella paused, reassessing the situation.Ready, Gleam? Dallion asked, taking advantage of the pause.I've been waiting for this, the shardfly replied.Dallion rushed forward, pulling back the elements of the whip blade. When he was five feet away, he performed a piercing attack, extending the weapon once more. The speed at which the tip of the blade moved was far faster than it had been before. Thanks to his stats, the noble managed to twist and leap aside just before the weapon reached him. However, the attack didn't end there. Controlled by the shardfly, the segments of the blade turned on their own, matching his actions. It seemed inevitable that they would hit him in the middle of the breastplate. Before that could happen, however, the maces Itella was holding transformed as well.Unfolding like an origami, the weapons shifted from being maces to axes with heads large enough to block the attack. The force pushed the noble a few steps back, but even so, no real damage was done.What sort of weapon is that? Dallion asked. He had seen quite a few references for transforming weapons, but all of them only did so in the realms. The only exception was the whip blade he was holding, but even that didn't exactly change form.That, dear boy, is a magic weapon, Nil said. What is more, knowledge about it seems to be sealed, suggesting it's an heirloom. I suggest you keep your distance. There's no telling if transformation is its only trick.Choosing not to risk splitting into instances, Itella continued the fight, relying exclusively on his weapons' abilities. There was no doubt that he had done a lot of training, since his skills matched the fighting style to the letter. The ease with which he transformed the shape of the maces into something that suited him was admirable. It was as if he were doing calligraphy, but with weapons. If Gleam wasn't controlling Dallion's weapon, Dallion would have already lost.He's focused on mind and reaction, Dallion thought. Based on the few hits that Dallion had suffered, his opponent's strength was considerably weaker than Dallion's. In his experience that was a first. Maybe having no restrictions was a much greater advantage than he thought.Feeling confident, Dallion drew his Nox dagger. Holding it was quite uncomfortable with the armadil shield strapped to his hand, but thanks to the Vihrogon he could be confident that neither would slide off. Waiting for the precise moment Dallion attacked. The goal wasn't to wound his opponent, but rather to damage his weaponjust enough to negate its shapeshifting ability. And to Dallion's surprise, he succeeded.Itella moved his left weapon in front of him, having its head unfold to the size of a buckler. To everyone's surprise, the dagger's blade passed through, piercing it like a nail going through a sheet of metal foil. A scream only Dallion could hear filled the airthe pain of a guardian that had just been wounded.What the heck? Dallion immediately leaps back. Nox, what did you do?Meow? the familiar asked. This was no different from any other attack he had done in the realm or in the real world. It wasn't unusual for him to chip off pieces of what he clawed, or even create a spiderweb crack, but piercing through a weapon with such ease was a first.The noble was just as surprised, if not more. His immediate reaction was to leap back a dozen feet, shielding the damaged weapon from additional harm. For a moment Dallion felt utter terror resonating through him.Gleam, stop! Dallion ordered.The whip blade fragments pulled back, forming a solid blade once more. Several seconds passed in silence, both opponents looking at each other. Dallion could feel the hesitation emanating from the other. He wanted to continue the fight. Even after the slight mishap with the weapon, he had the skills and the weapon to achieve victory. However, the reluctance and fear were greaternot fear of Dallion, but something else.You have this round, the noble said and turned around.Half of the arena went silent. The spectators weren't pleased to be denied a spectacle, but didn't want to be boo a noble of such importance either. Waves of confusion filled the air, followed by whispers and theories about what had happened.Congratulations, dear boy. You've won your fourth battle.Why? Dallion asked.Can't say that I'm sure. Very likely it might come down to a trivial matter such as damaging a valuable heirloom. Not that I understand how Nox did that. He can be quite the handful at times, but even so, I doubt he should have affected a magical weapon in such fashion. I guess we'll never know.While winning in this fashion felt like cheating, it was still a victory. Also, from what Dallion could tell, Itella's weapon was only damaged. Even if in pain, the guardian was still alive.Want me to mend your weapon? Dallion asked. I'll be glad to.The noble glared at him over his shoulder, then kept walking.One thing that we can be fairly sure of is that you didn't gain any new friends today, Nil said. If you're still alive after the end of the festival, better start thinking of ways to make up for his humiliation. Nobles are petty and have long memories.
