Finally, it was time. The battles that would determine the empire’s strongest Seeker were about to begin.
The preliminaries consisted of four concurrent matches. That meant four fights taking place in four rings at the same time. Though all the competitors were B-Rank, I could tell immediately that they were all fighting at a very high level. Any one of these competitors was equally capable of victory. The spectators watched on with wide eyes, ecstatic at the chance to finally watch Seeker-on-Seeker combat.
The scream that tore through the air chilled everyone to the bone.
“Aaahhhhh!”
The voice sounded like death throes, and everybody—spectators and other competitors alike—turned toward it. A Seeker was clasping his left arm, spit flying from the corners of his mouth as he fainted. He was in such extreme pain that even his opponent was shocked.
“Whoa! What in the world is going on?!” cried Luna. “Gilliam is down, and by the looks of things, can no longer stand! But even his opponent is flabbergasted by what just happened! Big sis, can you fill us in?” She whirled on Finocchio with expectation in her eyes.
Finocchio nodded. “Put simply, Gilliam fell because he was unable to bear the pain. He and his opponent are both Gladiators, and their strength-based classes had them stuck in a deadlock. Gilliam decided on a risky strategy: to take a minor hit in order to counter with something fatal. He invited his opponent to take his left arm to open a path to a swift beheading. However, the Megalith instilled the appropriate level of pain before he could strike back, and Gilliam fainted.”
“Aha, he underestimated the Megaliths. The pain was so beyond his expectations that he fell unconscious! Wow, what a sad way to go!”
Luna didn’t pull any punches with her conclusion, and Finocchio responded with a wry chuckle.
“You’re correct, my little Lulu, but let’s not forget that Gilliam is an exceptional Seeker. We all saw the extent of his resolve. In real battle, Gilliam wouldn’t have flinched—he would’ve let his arm go flying so he could take his opponent’s head.”
“Huh?! Wait, wait,” said Luna, puzzled. “But Gilliam fainted from the pain, right? Are you saying that the pain reflected from the Megaliths is more than what it would be in real life?”
“Exactly that,” Finocchio said, bobbing his head.
“What?! How does that work?!”
“It’s pure pain, really. The Megaliths absorb bodily damage, but they reflect the equivalent pain or paralysis. The system works via simple electrical signals, which travel through the nerves to simulate damage. Put simply, the Megalith fools the brain.”
A cruel smile grew upon Finocchio’s face as he went on.
“However—and this was quite the surprising discovery for us—when the Megalith generates the illusion of pain, this signal to the brain bypasses any physical boosts imbued by the competitor’s class. Ordinarily, Gilliam could’ve withstood the pain of his arm being cut off, but without his physical boosts—that is to say, when faced with the pain in its purest form—he could not. That is the truth behind Gilliam’s defeat.”
The so-called “pure pain” Finocchio spoke of was not something I had intended. It was just a coincidence. We’d discovered it when I tested the Megaliths myself. I had linked to one and cut my right arm with a knife, only to be assaulted by a pain beyond anything I knew as normal. At first I thought that there’d been some kind of calibration mistake, but I quickly realized that the pain itself was different; the real problem was with me.
Regardless of specialization, all battle classes had physical buffs. In terms of physical prowess, this meant increased strength, agility, and endurance. One effect of an endurance buff was its ability to lessen pain, but that effect was bypassed when the brain was given a straight dose of pain.
Although the Talker class had little in the way of these buffs to begin with, we did have strong mental fortitude, which allowed us to remain focused against whatever external forces were at play. Nonetheless, the moment I cut myself with that knife, the pain was so intense that I could barely move.
Through further experimentation, I learned how to endure that pain, but it was a much harder task for anyone who wasn’t used to it. This wasn’t a matter of pain tolerance; for battle classes, this was literally a pain we’d never known before. Even the strongest of the strong could not stand a pain that went beyond their imagination.
The combatants who had stopped fighting at the scream and heard Finocchio’s explanation quickly grasped the situation, and their faces went pale as the worst-case scenario dawned on them.
“What the hell?” said Caius, frowning. “This is supposed to be an injury-free tournament. These competitors could end up disabled. None of this means anything if we lose the battle to the Valiant because we’re lacking in manpower. Do you even understand the situation we’re in, Noel?”
“With all due respect, your worries are entirely misplaced, Your Highness. Observe,” I said, jerking my chin toward the rings.
“What the…?” uttered Caius, his eyes growing wide. “But why?”
The three remaining matches had resumed, and all the competitors were locked in fierce battle. Their fears had vanished, replaced by even more refined movements than before. Sparks flew as blades clashed, magic lit up the air, and arrows filled the sky like rain. Now that all the Seekers knew the risks, their senses were heightened.
Caius balked at the sight. “They’ve gotten stronger. But how? They’re not even members of the regalia…”
“They’re still among the best of the best. None of them fear death. They take that risk and spin it into strength—a springboard to greater heights. They know that the path to power only comes from a life-or-death struggle. Their survival instincts have come alive. This has always been the way of the battle classes.”
“I know that, but this is…”
“Your Highness, Seekers like Johann and myself are not the only heroes. Those Seekers down there have the potential to become heroes too. The Seven Star Cup is a place to break free from the restraints that bind them. They do this through battle. It is a desire built within them—it is a mentality.”
Caius looked perplexed for a moment, then let out a sigh and relaxed. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. You may be on the regalia now, but wallow in your pride and someone will soon knock you from your perch.”
“I can assure you, wholeheartedly, that I will not allow that to happen,” I said, raising my wine glass to the competitors in a toast. “And I will prove it to you here, at the Seven Star Cup. I will stand at its peak by the end.”
The fights in the first block progressed smoothly until only two Seekers remained, battling it out for a place in the finals. On one side was the brunette dual-wielding Gladiator, Wolf. His opponent was an old Paladin who had defeated Veronica.
Though the Paladin’s strength had clearly deteriorated with age, his outstanding swordsmanship enabled him to lock down the Ifrit-infused Veronica and come out on top. He was a true warrior. The Paladin was A-Rank, outclassing Veronica’s B-Rank. Combat abilities differed between ranks, but this was not an impossible hurdle. Veronica had lost because she had been completely overwhelmed.
But even the most powerful of warriors could not beat the sands of time.
“Eat this! Vorpal Sword!”
In a moment of clarity, Wolf, who was on the back foot, saw the glimmer of an opening and filled it with a dashing lightning attack on the Paladin. In response, the old warrior blocked it with his shield and engaged a defensive skill. Even then, he still could not stop Wolf, who had put his heart and his soul into his frontal assault.
It was all too easy to see the words carved into the Paladin’s face: “If only I still had X Invincible.” It was the ultimate defensive skill a Knight could use to deflect any attack back on its attacker. But he’d already used it, and the skill had a cooldown period of twenty-four hours. Though his storied career and incredible swordsmanship had helped him take the lead in the fight with Wolf, he now flinched in the face of the Gladiator’s wild, reckless assault.
Age had dulled the old Paladin’s fighting spirit.
Wolf roared like a starved hunting dog with its fangs sunk deep into its prey. Then, looking panicked and regretful, the Paladin was flung out of the ring.