áine healed my injuries and restitched my flesh. It didn't hurt, the pain was a dull thrum that added to the noise.
Slowly, I undid the mana connecting to my skill and let Spirit Lord's Invocation drop. Zharia reappeared in the back of my hoodie, and I reached back to hold her.
"I'm sorry," Zharia chirped.
"It's okay. It's not your fault," I replied.
"But the link..."
I slipped my thumb into the hood and stroked her feathers. "It's not just you. I made the choice. We'll deal with it later, okay?"
She chirped again before I undid her skill and gently pushed her into my back. It wasn't the most comfortable feeling, but I wasn't about to reveal her form.
Not yet, and not this close to the tier three.
A headache started to pound my head.
Another problem, for another time.
My feet carried me through the last of the tunnels, and I emerged into the under-area. Before I spotted Myol, the next combatant stood in my way. They looked me up and down with some derision before shouldering past me and into the tunnel.
The elf was unrememberable. His features were too plain. Whoever he was, I couldn't recall his first match earlier in the day.
Oddly enough, the encounter helped me relax and I met Myol's eyes.
She stood, a statue in the room as I approached. When I was within conversational range, her barrier slid into place and she stepped closer.
"Was that an act, or genuine?" she asked coldly.
"What are you talking about?" I answered.
"Answer me, or I'll disqualify you here and now. Was that an act or real?"
As tempting as it was to reply sarcastically, I dropped my shoulders and stretched.
"Real."
Assuming we are talking about the same thing.
"You said you had no rage skills. Was that a lie?"
I shook my head. "It wasn't. I'm just an angry guy."
She didn't snort, or relax. Myol pulled back, her arms crossed.
"The tournament resumes at eight. Don't be late."
I nodded and turned to leave, but the barrier blocked my exit. As I turned around, Myol's eyes narrowed. She watched me with an unreadable expression.
"Yes?" I asked.
She stopped tapping her bicep and straightened. "You wanted to know how I knew you weren't a beastkin? It's your posture, the movement and your physical cues."
"What do you mean?"
She grunted. "You have a tail, but it's loose. The tail your illusion shows is heavier and thicker at the base. Your posture shows no signs of balancing on claws or the pads of your toes. And you don't react with animalistic instincts. No sniffing, no cocking of your head or twitch of your ears."
I blinked.
That makes a lot of sense... I forgot that an illusion is only half the work. If it looks like a duck but doesn't quack like a duck, maybe it's not a duck.
"I see. Thanks for the insight," I said with a slight bow. She had given me an honest answer, and I wasn't so angry that I couldn't show respect. "Then, for what it's worth. I'm not a beastkin. But am I wrong in assuming that the majority would fail to notice the discrepancies?"
"No, they wouldn't," she snorted. Myol opened her mouth as if she was going to say something but instead shook her head. "Leave. I've got a match to watch."
Her barrier retracted and I took the dismissal.
Despite my smaller stature, people who were waiting for the next slugfest spotted my exit and pointed. Several crowd members cheered, and others grinned with a knowing smile.
I sighed.
Figures. They've been bloodthirsty since before the matches started. It's not like I was the worst of the lot. Lots of people used fire-based skills today.
Yet, despite the odd booing from rowdy individuals who dropped their ire as soon as I slipped from their sight, only one of the reactions made me pause.
Clutching onto their father's shirt, a small boy saw me with wide eyes. His mouth slipped open and he slammed his head into his father's ribs. The man, bewildered by the sudden reaction, pulled him into his lap and stroked his hair.
A vendor glared my way as they were forced to dodge around me. I straightened myself and headed toward the booth. This time, the nearest attendant simply nodded, and I stepped inside.
"Listen, before you start. I already know," I said as I entered.
"Cyrus," Celenae said.
Arturous blocked my way like a guardian fuzzball. Slowly and carefully, I walked over and crossed my arms as I looked up.
"What's the bribe this time?"
He growled and punched my cheek with his tongue. But the giant bear stayed in place.
"No escaping this, Cyrus. Explain what happened down there," Teddy said.
"Are you sure? It'd be easier not to make this into a problem."
Celenae waved a notebook my way. "You should have thought about that before nearly killing a man."
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
"Lots of people nearly kill people. It's an arena," I countered.
She tossed the book at me and I caught it.
"You know what I mean."
Fine. But I'm getting rid of this headache first.
As I removed my mask, I pushed mana into Galarion's skill. I didn't bother directing the location of his summon and ignored the stares.
"Food?" he bubbled.
He asked it with the same physical zeal as every other time I summoned him, but his voice sounded subdued.
"Headache, please. It's the last match of the day, so you can stay out and savor it," I said.
He floated into the air and tapped my nose with a tentacle before shooting up my nostrils and into my brain.
Before I could gag from the intrusion, he gripped my thoughts and feasted. The dull throbbing slowly faded.
Much better.
"Thanks," I groaned.
Galarion bubbled something without meaning and nestled into his usual spot.
Again, the others stared with concern written across their faces.
"Ignore what you just saw," I stated.
"I'm going to stab you," Isaac threatened.
Teddy sighed and moved around Arturous. He placed a hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezed. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Thank you, but I'm fine. Though, it might be safer to test the transformations when we get the chance."
Celenae snatched her book from my hands and flipped it open, pen at the ready. "New revelation?"
I scratched my head. "Yeah. Maybe. You know how I have the soullink?"
"Thoughts, emotions, memories," she muttered aloud. "What about it?"
"We mostly tested on Sturmrorex, so we probably missed it. And Zharia didn't have a reason to be uh, spicy in the moment. But I think Spirit Lord's Invocation amplifies their emotions."
Like a lightbulb, the flash went off in Celenae's brain and she started furiously scribbling.
When she was done, she lowered her notes and grimaced. "That makes sense. Spirits tend to be closely bonded to their aspects. And all your familiars have strong personalities. With your skill growing in qualitative power, the connection must have strengthened."
Sereza stuck her head around Arturous' belly. "Anyone want to explain?"
Celenae pointed to my chest with her pen. "When Cyrus transforms, he embodies his familiar. Sturmrorex makes him more prideful, and Zharia makes him fury incarnate."
"That's a little much," I muttered.
The others glared, and even Arturous raised his eyebrows.
"Alright, shutting up now," I said, throwing my arms up. As Arturous finally relented and allowed me access to my seat, I found Eodyne attempting to burn a hole through my head. "Uh, what's up?"
"Transformation or not, there's no excuse," she said, her voice carrying a hint of danger.
"What did I do this time?"
"You. Dropped. Your. Weapon. Shameful. We've taught you better."
Ah. I did do that, didn't I? Oopsy.
I bowed and shifted my head so she was out of my sight. Of course, that brought me to Igas, who shook his head with a disappointed grumble.
"You too?"
He stopped and fixed me with a glare. "I know what we are doing after Sereza's match."
"Okay?"
After the initial concern and plentiful light-ribbing from Isaac, the second half of day one proceeded. I noted a few memorable matches, even going as far as to cheer for Vincent during his second duel.
He barely managed to scrape by, his opponent a speed demon in comparison. But he held out, got a lucky strike with his sword skill, and won by nearly severing his opponent's leg.
Another noticeable and strange reaction came from the hooded man. He once again, kept staring at our booth before the match started.
Which, unfortunately for his opponent, lasted little less then forty seconds. And it was only due to having a unique movement skill did the other man last as long as he did. The robed figure crushed him into the sand with a flaming fist, ending the match.
Sereza's match was the fourth to last. And she managed to take down her opponent in an impressive thirty seconds.
I waved and tossed her a drink as she stepped into the booth.
"Thanks," she said before guzzling it down. As she wiped her mouth, she flopped onto Arturous' back and snuggled in. "That was annoying. I hate leeches."
"I know you fought a beastkin, but he was a cat not a leech. Are there even leech beastkins? That's horrifying."
Celenae gently smacked my head with her cup. "Don't be rude. Monstrous beastkins have a hard enough time. And no, there are no leech-based beastkins. At least, not in Inoria."
"What exactly counts as monstrous? Cats are pretty monstrous. Can devastate an entire ecosystem."
"Monstrous as in less standard. There are a few insect-based beastkin and they are barely considered a part of their species."
Huh. The more you learn.
"Leeches are a type of fighter. He's a debuffer who specializes in draining stamina. Not fun to fight against," Sereza explained.
"Hmmm. How would that work with áine?"
Igas stood up before I could continue my questions. He tossed his cup and drink into his mouth and chewed through the ice.
"Are we finished?"
I glanced at Sereza, who shrugged. "Unless you guys want to watch the last two matches. Why?"
He nodded. "Good. Follow me."
Igas marched out of the room. I stared, Sereza stared. The others shrugged.
Well, this'll be interesting at least.
***
"Where... Why are we here?" I asked.
A spikey ball grazed my ear as a screaming elven child chased after it. All around us, similar scenes repeated themselves as the tiny humanoids brought forth the true meaning of chaos.
The lone adult woman I saw looked ready to explode before she spotted Igas. When the tall oni waved, she activated a movement skill and teleported in front of him.
Her fingers pressed into his chest and she yanked his beard closer. "You! You did this."
Igas tried and failed to pry himself loose. "Mirabel, I apologize."
"Apologies?! Do you see what you've created? The madness?!"
As the woman continued to rant to Igas, I slid close to Isaac and nudged his side.
"What?" he asked with a glare.
I pointed to the madwoman. "Who's that? And why is she angry? And where are we?"
Sereza grabbed a disc that rocketed toward her neck before it hit. She threw it to the cheering of the little devils before staring at her hands.
"It's sticky. Why is it sticky? Uggh," she groaned. She scraped her hands on the grass and shivered. "We're at the Orphanage. As to why we are here, I've no idea."
Orphanage?
Isaac chuckled and pointed to Igas. "She's Mirabel. Tier two, retired adventurer. Helps Igas run this place."
"Okaaay. And why is she about to pluck Igas' beard?" I asked.
"Because of that."
I followed his finger and saw a group of children watching a glowing crystal slab with rapt attention. It took a second but I realized it was currently showing one of the matches from the tournament.
"You guys have cable?"
Igas walked over, cradling his chin with a sour expression. "Keep your fancy Earth terms to yourself. And no. I recorded the match and sent the crystal and a few others here."
"Igas. You fool," Teddy mumbled.
"Yeah. I should have known. I hoped to inspire them on their skill selection, and provide some entertainment. They could use it after recent events."
Teddy patted his shoulder and stepped away. He started talking to the kids who were attempting to mount Arturous.
"He's really good with kids," I said.
"He is," Celenae replied, a smile on her face.
"Careful, your blush is showing," Eodyne teased.
Celenae reddened and approached Mirabel who greeted her like a friend, entirely different from how she treated Igas.
"So, cool place. I have a crap ton of candy I can distribute, but why are we here? You marched out of the booth like it was a mission."
"I did no such thing," he denied. He stoically avoided our stares and motioned to the screen. "We are here because I promised Mirabel some help. Nilv is still recovering from his treatments and she's swamped. I figured it'd be a good way to relax and cash in on a few favors owed."
I scanned the grounds. There were more than thirty kids of different races, sizes, and age.
A few looked older, like the human and elf kids, who appeared nearly old enough to have access to the system.
"I'm not going to like this, am I?"
Igas grinned. "Your second match wasn't appropriate. But your first..."
Fuck.
A tug on my leg drew my attention downward. A dirt-stained boy wielding a wooden sword no taller than my knee squinted at me.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"Your mask is familiar." He paused. Before I could ask a question, he turned around and shouted to a nearby group of kids similar in height. "Yul! Fern! Webble! Come here."
"What is it, Preston? Who's the masked man."
Preston tapped my leg with his sword. "His mask is familiar."
The kids cocked their heads like a group of puppies. A sinking feeling spawned in my gut.
Is it too late to escape?
But as I looked around, I was alone. I spotted Sereza and Isaac waving from behind a tree while the rest of Broken Tower were engaged with their own group of devil spawns.
Only Igas looked my way, and the bastard gave me a thumbs-up.
I'm going to kill you in your sleep. I'll poison your food, create glitter, and make you shine like a Smurf vampire!
Another tug, this time on my sleeve, dragged me downward. The canine beastkin, Fern, cupped my face.
Her eyes widened and she jumped excitedly. "It's him! It's him!"
"Who?" the others demanded.
Several more pairs of the kids gathered around and I swore I could hear Isaac's laughter.
"It's the Lightning Tyrant! It's Mordred!"