Waving his arms around, he paced the cobbles of my room. “I have good news, Earl! You have a prospective sponsor already!”
“Amazing,” I replied with all the enthusiasm I felt at his words. Which was a grand total of zero. “Right now, I’m far more interested in being able to wave my arms around like you.”
I gestured to the broken arm. It was pretty fucking bad. My latest victim had hit like a runaway freight train.
“Oh!” he said with the good sense to look ashamed. “Gawlo said she tried to heal it when the guards lead you from the arena, but alas, she was repelled.” He chuckled, but his discomfort was clear to see. “I understand her… frustration.”
“Yeah, well, sorry you don’t like it, but it’s part of the service, right? I risk my life, make you guys a shit ton of money, and everyone’s happy?”
For some reason, he seemed to find that hilarious, and spent a further minute laughing before he finally laid his hands on my arm.
He recoiled a moment later. All humor evaporated. “Urgh. It’s different again, Earl.”
“Yeah, it’s fucking broken in three places, yer daft shite.”
“No. It’s like my magic barely recognizes you as something that can be healed. Your level has gone up to 11. How are your stats?”
“It did? Hell yeah, I thought I was miles away. I got an increase a day or two ago in Toughness, and I definitely had an increase after that fight.”
“Would you take a look for me, please?”
Curious, I ignored the pain a little longer, and did as he’d asked.
Name: Earl Henshaw
Title: Pool Fighter of the Velkyn Arena
Level: 11
Class: Warrior
Stats:
- Toughness: 20
- Mental Acuity: 15
- Harmony: 0
- Total: 35
Progress in Class:
Warrior, Level 8: 15/80
Tradesman, Level 0: 0/10
Mage: 0
“Holy shitballs! I got another in Toughness! That takes me to 20! And another in Mental Acuity after the fight. I must have been really fucking clever in that one, huh?” I asked him with the best shit-eating grin that I could manage.
“Apparently so,” he said, shaking his head. “You are an enigma for all whose path you cross, Earl. But that increase in Toughness is problematic from a healing point of view. Earl, you may need to consider the amount of damage you’re willing to take in pursuit of your wins. Or least until you can buy decent armor and your Toughness can negate more of the damage.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I mean… I’m not trying to get fucking hurt, you know.”
“That is not what it looked like to all those watching. But your methods do yield results, and the growth of your Toughness is testament to that. That you only appear to be a Level 11 with a Toughness of 20 is frankly hilarious. Most will guess at a low Harmony score, but…”
“Sure, sure. Is it time to heal this goddamn arm yet?”
He grimaced, but thankfully, a reluctant nod followed. “I believe it is.”
He laid tentative hands on my arm again, an expression bordering on fear etched into his face.
I stayed quiet while he concentrated. Sweat beaded his forehead as the process went on for way longer than we’d ever done before. To his credit, he kept going until it was all but healed.
He ended with a groan. “That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
I shrugged. “My heart bleeds.”
He frowned, but his eyes glazed over for a moment then he smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I just received a level in Harmony. I haven’t had one of those in six months. You are pushing my boundaries, Earl, and it is good for me.”
“Hopefully that extra point will help you put my fingers back on?” I said, holding up my hands.
“If you don’t brutalize your next opponent in victory, then yes, I will return them to you. I wouldn’t like to leave it any longer, for I don’t think I’m going to be able to heal you soon. I’d say five more levels and there’d be very few mages in the Union who could heal you.”
“You say this resistance will help me against magical attacks eventually?”
“Certainly. The Monarch herself remarked on how well you took her attack in the hall the other day. I suspect she was attempting to kill you. It’s one of the main reasons that she didn’t kill you when you survived, and why you are so valuable. We will be demanding a heavy price from your prospective sponsors.”
“So owners, then,” I said with a shake of my head at the word games. “You gonna tell me who they are, then? Or am I supposed to guess?”
“Honestly, we have no idea. The inquiry for your availability came from a private third party.”
“That sounds a bit sus to me, Able. You could be selling me off to anybody. Could be somebody who likes to do strange sexual experiments on Earthers.”
“I doubt that very much, Earl. From what I can tell, you are neither an attractive version of your species, nor do you have a temperament best suited to that kind of work. I expect they are entirely interested in your fighting ability. And as for private third parties, it is entirely common for the identity of your purchaser to remain hidden until you are ready to fight on the big stage. Most important buyers have enemies within the Union, and they would rather those enemies didn’t know of their arsenal.”
I grumbled. “Suppose it makes sense. So did they offer good money?”
“We haven’t discussed financial reimbursement as yet, though they promise they will meet our asking price once they have met with you.”
“They want to meet me?” For some reason, I pointed at myself.
“Indeed they do. It is one of their requirements before they make an offer.”
“When?”
“We are currently thrashing out the details. The stumbling block is that they wish to meet you outside the city.”
“Cool. Just let me know when. I’m interested to meet the people so interested in what I have to offer, even fingerless.”
He chuckled as he got to his feet. “I’m glad to hear you won’t be difficult over this.” Then he staggered weakly from the room.
I lay back on the bed while I waited for my dinner with a side of pies to arrive. The fight had been over fast, but the healing was hungry work, and I was struggling to put weight back on with all the body weight training I was doing.
I was going to have to increase the calories, but I also needed to train heavier than I’d been doing. Body weight was great for agility and honing my old skills, but they’d returned, so I wasn’t worried about my fighting ability. It was becoming increasingly obvious that I needed to up my strength and durability. For that, I was going to need a gym.
I dozed, I ate, I slept some more, then I headed to the door ready to do some damage to my body of the repetitive, controlled type.
The moment I was out of my door, the corridor guard locked eyes with me. I wasn’t fooled. I knew they were there to guard my room. And they must have known I wasn’t fooled, but didn’t care.
Come to think about it, neither did I.
I strode over with purpose. “Do you know where the gym is?”
He seemed genuinely caught by surprise by the question and fumbled over his reply. “Er… Yes. I can escort you.”
“Won’t you be reprimanded for leaving your corridor guarding duty?”
He glowered. “Follow me.”
I grinned and followed.
It turned out that the gym wasn’t actually too far away. And it was very well stocked with all kinds of contraptions, weights, and training dummies. Everything you could imagine, really, and as I sauntered across the lightly padded floor, picking up a wooden training sword from a barrel full of them, I thwacked one of the training dummies and felt a pang of regret that I hadn’t taken advantage of this place sooner.
Then I turned back to the guard. “Well, you got me here safely, so you can fuck off back to your corridor. You’re sure as shit not ogling me while I train.”
He said nothing, but I could hear from the grinding of his teeth as he backed out of the room that he wasn’t happy.