Chapter 1963 – Approaching the Late Game 11 – Tournament of Prowess
The entirety of the people on the trip were with John when he next stepped on through the Gate of Light.
“Excited?” Rave asked.
“Manifestations of the Lady’s will are always exciting to behold,” Moira responded in a cool tone. “You seem to be a lot more excited than me, I can’t help but notice.”
“I’m just happy not to be bogged down with the question of flower patterns for a bit.”
“We are returning to the planning as soon as we have witnessed the basics of the Raid,” Aclysia stated. “This is non-negotiable.”
The first maid was truly dutiful in making sure that the feline Lightbearer stuck to her guns on the matter. “Can we at least take the homework to the viewing area?” Rave pleaded. “It’s so boring spending hours upon hours in that room!”
“If you remain focused,” Aclysia said.
It never ceased to amaze John how much power the first maid had over everyone. “The way you say that makes it sound like you will not be available for the fights either?”
“If you would require my aid as a necessity, I will be available for you whenever or however you desire, Master.” Aclysia bowed her head elegantly. “Personally, I believe it is best if I remain assigned to the organization of this most important day.”
“I’ll only ask you to come along if it's really necessary then,” John promised. He could probably make do without her, although it wouldn’t be that easy. Aclysia was the only true tank in his roster. Gnome was the closest after that, but she lacked Aclysia’s capacity to protect and to force enemies to attack her. Hopefully, that would not be an issue here. Raids had the benefit that the enemies almost always prioritized based on certain parameters, quite frequently they just attacked whoever was closest.
With that bit of chatter out of the way, John raised his hand and willed the Raid open.
They found themselves standing in a pit of compacted, grey sand, surrounded on all sides by stands that had been carved into grey-brown mountainside. Thousands of people populated the stands, segmented in what appeared to be national groupings. Banners fluttered from overhangs that provided shade to the viewers. Beyond the cliffs and seats, gargantuan, blood-red rubies rose up, the view towards them only broken by six obelisks that surrounded the edge of the pit.
John’s attention shifted from the scenery to the people. There were some fantastical races he recognized, but most were a variety of oddity. There were tall, viking-esque people with grey or dark blue skin, whose men had four arms and shorties that had snail shells decoratively growing from their scalps. Chimeric, purple-eyed people displayed various kinds of horns, tails, claws, and scales. There were gnomes, elves, and various flavours of human, some more deviant than others.
Everyone was looking at the newly arrived party.
“Vokal, darling, we have an oddity in your hallowed arena!” a sharp and yet melodic voice cut through the confused murmurs of the crowd. It belonged to a redheaded elf, covered head to toe in a gold-trimmed, black armour that seemed to have been carved from fused bones. A nun’s habit on her head added to her outfit a religious note.
She was also seated on the right leg of a larger man. Like her, he had long, red hair, but his eyes were a full white, heavily contrasting her black irises. His armour was even more elaborate than hers, adding silver segments to the colour scheme of black and gold, and a halo of blood-red light hovered behind the backrest of the throne he leaned against.
Around the duo were many other redheaded beauties. A lamia with skin kissed by the desert sun. A slime lady with one red and one purple eye, her hair fused into the liquid wings that sprouted from her back. A human woman clad in golden, Greek-styled armour. Lastly, a kitsune whose tail left embers as it swished side to side in excitement.
“How unusual, I was not notified about additional visitors,” the one named Vokal said, rubbing his chin with a gauntleted hand.
“MY BELOVED VOKAL!” Everyone’s attention snapped to the viking people, whose leadership had stepped forwards.
The first one of the trio to catch John’s eye, unusually, was the man. He was a creature of a humanoid, over two-metres tall and with skin the colour of the night sky. Expensive furs and gemstones decorated him, but nothing stood out more than the crude chunk of red stone that was embedded directly in his chest, between the pectorals. He had six arms, two pairs of regular size, and a smaller pair that reached up above his head, golden feathers sprouting from the sides. There was a set of proper wings, their metallic sheen reflecting the light from a burning halo of broken crystals.
The face of the man was horrific to behold. Reddish, grey hair framed a manic expression of barely controlled aggression. Red eyes burned. Lips were peeled back in a grim smile that appeared forced upon him. There was not a moment where there wasn’t at least one muscle twitching on his face or his body.
[Bloodletter AI: https://i.imgur.com/gR6KYjR.png]
Even knowing that this was a scripted RP event, John had a hard time taking his eye off the obvious danger. Standing on the other side was an elven woman that was, herself, incredibly tall and quite muscular for a woman. Her skin was pale with a hint of grey and red markings covering much of her body. A pair of red, feathered wings was folded behind her back.
The last one, standing in the middle, was the least eye-catching of the three. She had greyish-black skin. A bit of red warpaint underlined her eyes. Her dress was highly ornate, fusing a base of gold-trimmed black with red elements. Her hair was black, the sides of it braided. A tiara of red crystals proved her queenship.
She was also the one that was speaking. “The Bloodshot speaks to us! These newcomers are to spill the heat of their veins for its entertainment!”
A deep, male voice boomed from the opposite side of the arena, this one belonging to a brown-haired man. He seemed to make a point out of appearing well dressed for the occasion, wearing a highly ornate armour of white and gold. The tall throne, the golden halo, and the crowd of women around him all furthered the point that he was a figure of import. “I can also feel the touch of the Blue Marble on these events.”
“I agree with Omnius!” another god, judging by the halo, weighed in. He was a wiry man whose eyes were hidden in the shadow of a sailor’s cap. “Feels to me as if both Red and Blue Marble desire these newcomers to be the challenge.”
“Mhm… I was looking forward to the clash of the champions of this world, Logitur,” Vokal lamented. “Drama, expertise, prowess, passion, skill, all shown! Then again… repelling outsiders is its own timeless war…”
“By your will and that of the Bloodshot!” The elf took a half step forwards, careful not to advance beyond her sovereign. “Calamity Vokal, Supreme Warrior and Emissary of Bloodshed, the signs are there! With your permission, it would be the honour of all that follow the Red Path to tear the hearts out of these invaders’ chests!”
“AND DRINK THEIR BLOOD!” the enormous, six-armed man added, his voice every bit as manic as his face would imply. “LET IT ALL Flllloooooooow, for the glory of the Scarlett Sphere!”
“As my father suggests,” the elf added.
“How the fuck would THAT make that?!” Eliana loud-whispered.
“Well, we haven’t seen the mother,” John responded.
“Then let it be so!” Vokal declared, to the excited squeals of the redheaded women around him. “By the desire of my Saintesses and the Gods of the Unnamed World, we will follow the Marbles’ designs! Ikoria, who do you think should defend the honour and strength of this world first?”
“It wouldn’t be very fun to begin with our strongest…” The warrior nun considered, her face taking on a façade of innocence, before spreading into a broad grin of mischief and bloodlust. “Send out the halfling of the Skyprayers.”
“And so it shall be done! Go-Hi of the Skyprayers, you are called to the arena!”
John wasn’t sure what he expected to emerge, but a regular halfling wasn’t it. He appeared to be middle-aged, with short, brown hair and a decently groomed beard. By virtue of his race, his head was pretty large for his short body. His build was thoroughly unimpressive, falling just short of fat in the category of chubby, with a gut that stretched his light brown tunic. He was smiling like only a Raid boss could be smiling when approaching a crowd of 30 god-like entities that had appeared out of thin air.
[Go-Hi AI: https://i.imgur.com/V1zv1aj.png]
“If Rock and Whale are willing, the Skies will send me luck!” Go-Hi declared, flipping a black coin, catching it, and then drawing a dagger.
“Make your preparations, outsiders,” the dark-skinned lamia shouted. “When your first strike falls, this world will respond in kind!”
There was a wave of cheers from the people in the stands. The noise quickly ebbed away, leaving behind a background murmuring that John recognized as a wordless soup that existed only to create the impression of activity. Dagger in his hand, Go-Hi shifted his weight from one leg to the other at a pace that would have quickly become tiring. Idle animations didn’t come with stamina bars though.
The RP intro of the Raid had run its course.
That told him very little about the mechanics he could expect.
“Lorelei, what are we in for?” John asked.
“I foresee a struggle of relative ease under the shadow of spinning wheels of fortune.” The seer’s voice was melodic, entranced by whatever she was interpreting. “Even if it seems that there is nothing to be feared, be wary of the chance of your enemy’s success, however slim it may appear.”
“Right, so critical hits and random mechanics on a gift boss,” John summarized her words in gaming terms. “If we have to deal with random damage spikes, a frontline with high regeneration will be good… Aside from Aclysia, I think I will have all the combat maids help me on this one. Beatrice, Claire, Ehtra, Momo, Nahoa, you five will join my real body. That leaves us with three more open slots…”
John scanned the available fighters. Lu Zhi, Nathalia, Eliana and Lyndell were all way too high levelled to join him, while Moira was too low. Fianna potentially could have joined them in combat, which was a worthwhile experiment for both of them.
“Statement: I suggest to be exempted from this fight,” Beatrice raised her voice while he was still thinking.
“Why is that?” John wondered.
“Response: my armament is sub-standard for the difficulty of the encounter.”
The passive maid held up Perfect. The spear had been repaired after they had retrieved it from Justinian’s remains, but she was right that it had become somewhat of a liability. Indestructible 4 assured that it could only be pushed to 40% of its Durability, which meant it could be snapped in two.
The shaft was made from a calcified arm of the Horned Rat. Had it not been for John’s Create Skill, they wouldn’t have been able to repair the spear and it demanded hours of the task every time. Frankly, the spear had outlived its usefulness. The type of attacks it needed to withstand had outscaled its capacity.
John sighed, “I agree. Alright, Beatrice, you’re out until we find you a replacement. Fianna, Metra, you two join, so we have all the high regenerators in the fight. That puts us at 7…”
He considered Undine, since a healer was never bad, but this could have been one of the rare times where she was unnecessary. All of the Artificial Spirits had incredible HP recovery and he himself would be relying on Particle Skin. If he put Undine in, it would only be to heal the other person he would put into the team.
“I would like to gather additional combat data,” Scarlett chimed into his thoughts.
Assuming he granted that request, Undine became even less necessary. Scarlett’s mechanical limbs could not be healed by magic, only repaired between encounters. That presented unique challenges. At the same time, what he had heard and seen of Scarlett’s combat prowess was, to put it frankly, absurd. Putting her through the Raid-wringer could be useful if only so he could personally witness what she was capable of at her peak.
“Could get expensive,” he warned her.
“Not as expensive as learning about faults in the design in real combat.”
A beyond fair point, so he nodded. “Eight out of nine… Sylph, I would take you along as the final member. You provide massive amounts of damage and a lack of healer doesn’t hurt you as much.”
“Yeah, because I will tumble away if I get caught in the wrong gust!” the volt bunny agreed. “Oh, I love Raids, I love Raids! Think I can solo another encounter? Can I? I would love to try, it’s so fun when I have to go, like, ten minutes flawlessly! My brain is racing and then at the end it’s like… Kapwaaaaaaah! And then everyone gives me head pats!”
“Well, if we find any boss that allows for you to try, we will,” John promised her. “For now, let’s try this.”
“I wonder what would happen if we attacked right now?” Rave thought aloud. “Like, if I just smack him, will Gaia teleport half of us out or something?”
“Dunno,” John answered flippantly. “Let’s not try.”
He pointed at a pad of stone that had, at some point, appeared near them. It had to it that kind of sparkly, purple glow that he associated with the Teleportation Stations at work. It also heavily resembled every other teleportation pad they had seen in previous Raids, which meant it was guaranteed to get them to the viewing area.
Gaia was one of the few people, if not the only person, that John trusted to be consistent on these things.
Everyone besides the nine fighters chosen (John, Claire, Ehtra, Fianna, Momo, Nahoa, Metra, Scarlett and Sylph), stepped through the teleportation pad. That included John’s two additional bodies.
All of them found themselves in a part of the stands previously unoccupied. Interestingly, there were paths to the neighbouring areas, inviting interaction with the NPCs. ‘I smell hidden mechanics,’ the Gamer thought and immediately committed his Creator Puppet to that task. He only needed one body to be present for the wedding planning.
“On my signal, Metra, you’ll whack him with all the strength you got.”
The wolf woman smirked. “Love the sound of that.”
