Brayden brought the flat side of his sword down on a man’s skull with a ringing clang. There was a thunk that carried more than a little bit of a satisfactory element to it, not that Brayden had any plans of admitting such to anyone he knew. He didn’t need them to start thinking he’d gone insane or bloodthirsty.

The struck man crumpled to the ground in a pile of limbs. A massive beam of light crashed down from the sky to swallow him, leaving the space before Brayden barren when it faded away. He really never should have been here in the first place.

But, for that matter, most of the people in this tournament shouldn’t have been. Brayden was becoming increasingly convinced of that. This was why there were so many different rounds. Aqua Terra hadn’t even bothered filtering any of their combatants. They just let anybody who managed to get their hands on a badge enter the tournament.

And worse, he knew why.

It made for good show. That was why there good mages in these first few rounds were few and far in between. Aqua Terra wanted the talented mages to have a chance to show off and start building hype around themselves by just slaughtering all the idiots they’d been grouped up with.

This is all just a spectacle for the crowd. I think we drastically underestimated how many rounds there are going to be in the first section of the tournament. I’d be willing to be bet there are going to be dozens. If they literally just let anyone join so they could be fodder, then this is going to go on for quite a while.

Unease prickled against the back of Brayden’s neck. The implications of that were… deeply unsettling. He’d known that Obsidia was far larger than Arbalest. But in Arbalest, even the weakest Rank 5 mage still would have held a great deal of power.

For them to be reduced to nothing more than fodder for the crowds’ amusement here… it couldn’t help but make his thoughts wander. The peak of power was so much higher than he’d previously thought. There were godlike beings, and they were somewhere in the crowd above him. Just… watching.

Well, if I know anything about rich folk, they’re probably not in the crowd. They’ve probably got a fancy room all to themselves. But still. They’re here, somewhere. People that could have probably leveled Arbalest singlehandedly. All of this power. All of this knowledge, just a short distance away from the place that so many people never left. A place that so many will never get the chance to leave.

A furious scream from off to the side forced Brayden’s eyes to flick in its direction. A young mage was sprinting toward him, fire crackling off his palms and spittle flying from his lips as he lunged, presumably aiming to melt Brayden’s face off.

Brayden sighed.

He drew on his magic.

Then he vanished, a shower of purple sparks dancing through the air where he’d been a moment before. The other mage’s eyes only had an instant to widen before a ringing clang echoed through the arena. He hit the ground in an undignified, bouncing roll.

A moment later, a beam of brilliant light swallowed him whole.

He was just a child. Not even worth using any real magic against. Couldn’t have been much older than Todd or Isabel.

Brayden’s gaze lingered on the spot where the boy had been. Then he shook his head, irritation bubbling up within him. He’d finally gotten out from Father’s thumb. And yet, somehow, it seemed he’d found himself dancing for someone else’s amusement once again.

There was no honor in tossing children around. He wasn’t getting stronger. He wasn’t honing his skills. He wasn’t even practicing. This was just entertaining a bunch of people in the crowd like some kind of trumped up clown. And it wasn’t like he was going to get all that far in the tournament.

Despite how easy the melee round had been thus far, Brayden was no fool. There were terrifying mages lurking around him. Maybe not in this round, maybe not on this exact stage, but they were there. And when the melees ended and the real fights started… he would be outclassed.

I’ve never been the strongest mage. Even with Noah’s help repairing my runes and the training I’ve had, well, I haven’t had a good fight in a long time.

This is Obsidia. And I’m just… me. A backwater mage from a family that’s better off being turned to stone. There are a whole bunch of far more dangerous and experienced warriors participating in this tournament. My job is just to try and survive and hope that one of the kids happens to notice me. I’m sure Noah will deal with the rest.

A small smile pulled at the corners of Brayden’s lips. That was a nice thought. Knowing that someone genuinely had his back. Father had never tolerated failure. But now… it wasn’t like he had to succeed. Noah and Lee would definitely get all the attention needed for their students to notice them.

And that meant Brayden could rest. He could just make his way through the tournament and try to focus on fights that would actually push his skills. And, when he inevitably met someone powerful, someone that he couldn’t defeat, that would be okay as well.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

He would fight. He would learn. He would lose.

And that would be it. Nobody was actually counting on him winning. And nobody would be pissed when he didn’t. Nobody would even get hurt. And that alone was more than enough to start pulling a faint smile across Brayden’s lips. All he had to do was get through these melees.

Even though he was quite interested in testing his skill against other worthwhile mages, he had no desire at all to act a clown entertaining the clouds. Beating lesser mages was nothing at all to be proud of.

Maybe I’ll just go wait somewhere. I’m too close to the center of the—

A woman flew past Brayden.

He blinked. But, by the time he’d properly registered her, she was gone. She hadn’t been trying to attack him. Something had launched her.

A scream cut through the air. Brayden turned as a man tumbled through the sky, limbs flailing. He flew in a long arc before vanishing over the edge of the arena and his voice came to an abrupt halt. A pillar of light crashed down a second later.

But the two flying mages weren’t on their own for long. Another person took flight just moments later, coming hurtling out of a large group near the edge of the stage. There was a massive fight going down between two groups. Brayden couldn’t make out much detail through the thick cloud of smog swallowing them. Flashes of magic occasionally lit it from within, casting massive shadows dancing within the smoke.

Another person came flying, screaming, out of the smoke-covered group. They hit the ground once, bounced, and then went skidding off the stage.

Brayden’s eyes widened slightly.

What is going on in there?

He couldn’t help himself. Even though Brayden really didn’t have any interest in getting caught up in some giant fight between a bunch of mages, his attention had been caught. He strode toward the fight. Nobody tried to stop him. They were all already caught up in their own fights or had seen him dispatching the people that had come from him.

It seemed that was enough to dissuade more optimistic mages from trying to take him out just because he was alone.

When Brayden was just a dozen feet away from the thick cloud of smoke and the battle unfolding within it, a violent force shook the ground. A powerful wall of wind tore out from the center of the mages, sending people skidding back across the ground. Several of them were thrown right past him.

The spell had nearly decimated one of the groups — and, in blowing the smoke away, had also revealed that the other group hadn’t been so much a group at all.

It was just one man.

A huge man at that. He stood at nearly eight feet tall, looming well over the other mages, and wore nothing but plain robes with heavy metal plates woven into them and bound in place with what seemed to be imbued ropes. The man had a bushy black beard covering his features and blood splattered across just about every part of his body.

As Brayden watched, the massive man grabbed a mage by the arm, then launched him screaming into the air. He seemed to fly even farther than the past few had.

That’s one hell of a throwing arm. There wasn’t any magic in that. He literally just launched the guy… though I don’t know if you can get quite that big without at least a little help from magic.

The huge man drove a foot down into the ground. Another wave of wind tore through the arena. The remaining mages that had dared stand too close to him were launched backward, sent tumbling across the ground and out of the man’s way.

Brayden raised his hands as the wind tore past him, but the magic wasn’t powerful enough to lift him off his feet. He was just a bit too far out of range. But, only when his arms lowered did it strike him that just about every one of the remaining mages in the group had either fallen or turned and run.

The only one left standing anywhere near the giant was Brayden himself.

And even if he’d planned to leave, it was far too late.

The giant man had already turned in his direction.

Their gazes met. A long second of silence passed as they simply stood there, taking each other in. They’d both registered that the other wasn’t cut of the same cloth as the rest of the mages that had shown up to this round of the tournament.

Then the bearded man lumbered over toward Brayden. His steps didn’t quite make the earth shake, but they felt as if they should have. But Brayden didn’t stand still. He walked as well. The two of them met in the middle, not a single word spoken between the two of them.

There was simply no need to speak yet.

Brayden was forced to look upward slightly. His nameless bearded opponent stood a head and a bit taller than him. He wasn’t used to that. Generally, he tended to be the tallest person in the room.

At least my sword is bigger. He doesn’t even have a weapon.

A bolt of gray lighting streaked toward them from the side. Brayden lifted his sword without letting his gaze break from the other man’s, letting the magic strike the Imbued metal of his weapon and break harmlessly into a shower of sparks.

“Body Imbuements?” The big man rumbled in question.

“No,” Brayden said. “Training. You?”

“Training.” A smile crossed across the other man’s features. “How long?”

“Since birth,” Brayden replied. “Felt like a good way to vent my frustration.”

“And problems are easier when they can be squished.” The bearded man studied Brayden for a moment longer. Then he extended a massive hand. “Erek.”

Brayden tilted his head to the side. Taking Erek’s hand was about as smart as putting his head into the opened mouth of a monster. He’d seen just how powerful the other man was. If Erek decided to tear his arm off, there wouldn’t have been much he could do about it.

But it was an offer to shake hands.

A civilized man did not turn such a thing down.

Brayden took Erek’s hand. “Brayden.”

The other man’s grip was immense, like a band of iron trying to grind his grip to paste. But Brayden was far from weak. He matched Erek’s strength, not letting his gaze so much as wander. The two of them stood there for a long second.

Then Erek’s grin grew wider.

“You want to see which of us can launch one of these pathetic excuses for mages farther?” 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Brayden paused for a moment. “Can we use magic?”

“Only if you’re a pansy,” Erek rumbled in response. “Nobody here is worth using magic against unless they try to swarm you.”

Brayden supposed there was no reason not to have at least a little fun with it. A small smile split his face. “Alright. Fine. I doubt I’ll put up much of a fight, but you’re on.”