Aetherios System: Whirlwind

The screen flared to life in front of Alex’s face, blue text hovering over the azure blue fabric held in his trembling hands.

Item: Arachnae Silk Robes [Enchanted]

Description: Woven from the silk of an Adept arcane beast and later enchanted through various means by skilled hands. Provides stat boosts and protection. Does not contain any in-built bathroom function.

Effect:

• Strength +2,500 Experience

• Agility +2,500 Experience

• Vitality +1,000 Experience

• Provides moderate protection to user’s physical body. Resistant to heat, cold and acids.

Obby Inc.

Alex fell into the bench against the wall. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He turned the robes over in his hands, squinting as if the fabric were an illusion and this whole thing were some kind of joke. He tugged at the sleeve in his grasp, adding more and more strength as time passed, but the fabric never broke, not even showing strain until he started adding even more pressure, reaching near the limit of his horrendously high strength stat.

“This thing is insanely strong, just baseline. But… the ‘Experience’ part, how does that even work? I can’t just slap these on and jump a whole base stat, right?”

“Negative. Attribute-based Experience on items functions as a temporary enhancement. View it as simulated growth. Items increase your effective stat as though you’ve invested that amount, but with limitations: Cumulative bonuses from all equipment isn’t simply additive. The Highest bonus will apply, then only half of the second highest bonus, and a fourth of the third highest, and so on. Eventually, trying to stack item bonuses is just not worth the time or money of the item’s creation. Also, a stat cannot breach a base threshold through equipment alone. You can’t cheat your way into a base stat, no matter how much you stack gear.”

That was, a lot. For once, Obby seemed actually useful, rather than plain snarky. If he let himself admit it, Alex even found it refreshi—

“Do you need me to give an example so your simple fleshy brain understands?”

And there it was. The damned pebble just couldn’t help itself. Alex scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “No Obby, I got it. So... fake gains.”

“Not exactly fake. Temporary. It’s equipment after all. Think of it like like caffeine for your stats.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay. Stat caffeine.”

Obby projected another screen into his vision, and Alex scrolled through the details on the rest of his new items, reading each one by one.

The metal of his shoulder guards was light but firm, more flexible than the military-issue junk he’d been wearing from Terraxum’s army. It gave a base five hundred to all three of his physical stats across the board.

The gloves hummed faintly when he slipped them on, whispering against his skin with a static tingle of aether. They were interesting, as they gave no stat bonus, and instead seemed to enhance spells cast through them by a flat three percent. It may not sound like much, but for Alex, who’s intelligence stat was at a base thirty (essentially a total 81,000 experience), even three percent was a huge amount.

If only they worked on more spells. He could see them enhancing his [Aether Burst] when he cast the spell through his fist, or [Projection Shield], but the rest of his spells weren’t cast through his hands, so the gloves would have no effect.

Still, with everything added together, it was far more than he been expecting. Such high tier gear was… well he had no idea such things even existed. He had been working with items that had basic reinforcement enchantments, or only had minor effects.

These items opened his eyes to entirely new things.

“I feel like a new man. Like—”

“—like your fleshy sack is finally better protected? I told you to invest in armor months ago.” Obby chidded.

Alex sighed. “You ruin every moment, you know that?”

“Of course. It might even be my primary function. And, boy am I good at what I do.”

He ignored the comment, finishing the outfit with the new boots, which gave a one thousand agility experience boost. For a moment, he stared down at his old pair, the ones with the sun-faded, hand-painted flames on them. He’d worn them through too many messes to count now. Part of him wanted to keep them, maybe even pack them away somewhere safe. But that was stupid sentiment thinking for him. The System wasn’t kind to nostalgia. He had limited space in his bracelet. And really, what stuff would he want to take with him when they finally figured out a way back to Earth anyhow?

With a somber smile, he tossed the old boots into the corner of the room. Whoever happened upon them could have them. Maybe they would treat some lucky new owner as well as they had treated him.

When he was done, he looked, well, better. Not like a soldier or a stray warrior wandering in from the wilds, but something between a duelist and a scholar. The new robes moved easily when he flexed and stretched.

Finally, he picked up the small metallic rod Lady Xhiu had given him. It was about the length of his hand, and unassuming, dull grey metal. He turned it between his fingers, frowning. “Okay, mystery stick. What’s your deal?”

He let a trickle of aether run through it and nearly jumped when light suddenly burst from the tip. The rod elongated, forming a hilt, and the light shaped itself into a blade of pale blue energy.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, spinning it once, twice in his hand. The weapon felt balanced. Solid even, despite being only made of aether energy. The blade gave off a subtle hum that resonated into the handle and then into his hand.

Somehow, he knew that there was more to the item than just the blade.

With a thought, he shifted the aether flow, and the sword shifted into a spear instead. Then a second pulse of aether changed it into a mace. Then a war hammer, before turning it off where it become a small rod once more. Each active form materialized as pure, hardened energy with no seams, just shaped energy.

Obby explained without prompting.“Adaptive Aether Armament. High Adept grade item. Sensitive to user’s intent and aether affinity. Excellent craftsmanship is I say so myself. Likely forged by a Master-tier artificer in the Magus Grade.”

Alex grinned, tucking into the folds of his robes at his waist where it would be secure, but out of sight. He remembered telling Sionnadel that he hadn’t really felt strongly about any particular weapon, even having a bit of trouble in figuring out what do with his [Asura’s Armament] skill. It looked like she had figured out a rather nice accommodation for him.

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“Now this I can work with.”

He left the chamber, stepping back into the blinding artifical light of the arena corridors.

The others were already assembled near the outer ring, waiting for him. They too were all in new gear, each looking like they’d been upgraded from scrappy recruits to legitimate contenders.

Garret wore a set of medium armor which gleamed as if brand new and freshly polished, a massive shield slung casually over one shoulder. The armor was faint acid etched with runes which he could only guess massively increased the items durability and giving him some physical boosts.

Allie stood beside him, her robes were a swirling mix of white and black material, her mismatched gloves giving off an aura with opposing light and dark energies. Devon had one some hide armor, and was already distractedly tinkering with a metal disk the size of a dinner plate that whirred with tiny runes every few seconds. Zach, of course, wore all black, a spear at his back with a blade covered in dense markings and radiated a feeling like it could split a mountain.

Then Holly appeared from one of the corridor rooms, and Alex nearly forgot how to breathe.

Her new robes were silver and white, trimmed in faint gold threads that caught every glint of aether light. The fabric hugged her lithe form, flowing at her sleeves and legs but cinched at her hips and tracing her breasts and curves in a way that made Alex’s brain skip a few beats.

“Damn…” Alex said before he could stop himself. “You won’t be fighting to win the inheritance, you’ll be fending off every man and woman here just to stop them from asking you out.”

Holly rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward. “Smooth.”

He grinned, stepping forward and ran his hand through her hair, pulling her close enough to kiss her temple. She smiled and leaned into his chest, putting a hand around his waist.

“Is that a weapon in your pocket, are you just that happy to see me?”

“Both?”

“Exciting,” she giggled. Then her expression shifted into a serious glare. “But, don’t get too comfortable. Gear or not, this doesn’t make us invincible. We need to realize that everyone here’s got something like this, if not better.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. We are mostly just re-evening the playing field in terms of power and equipment. Guess we’ll just have to outsmart and outplay them.”

“Guess so,” she said.

A rumble rolled through the air at that moment. The ground trembled beneath their feet as a voice thundered across the arena above them, amplified by some magic, echoing over the countless gathered spectators that still sat in the audience.

“COMPETITORS, REPORT TO YOUR STANDS. THE FIRST MATCHES OF THE TOURNAMENT WILL SOON COMMENCE!”

Alex turned toward the opening at the far end of the corridor leading to the arena proper. The metal of his new armor glinting as he moved. For a moment, he caught his reflection in the mirror-polished stone wall. His eyes were still the same, mostly, his pupils were just slightly reptilian now, but otherwise nothing had changed about them. His hair was still cut short, he had made sure of that. And yet, he didn’t quite recognize the person staring back at him.

Something had changed that was far more than skin deep. He wasn’t the same man that had fought the forest badger day one of their arrival into that world. He was Alex, yes. But Alex was a name that belonged to a rather different person now.

“Alright,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s see what all the noise is about.”

Thousands of hand-held flags rippled in the volcanic wind as they were waved among the stands, colors of every kingdom and sect in Dawnlight thrust against the sky. It seemed that teams and fanbases had already started to form while they were getting outfitted.

“Where the hell did they find the time to make those?” Lance asked when he too noticed the audience waving them about.

“Magic is a hell of a thing, you worldstriders should get used to that.” Myrae said.

At the highest vantage point, beneath a canopy of radiant silk, sat the Empress of Urhara. The Empress leaned forward, her robes fluttering in the thermal winds. A single gesture of her hand made the runes across the arena blaze to life.

The colossal area rumbled, and metal platforms were raised from the ground. Large circular area, each large enough for two mages to fight, the edge trimmed in containment runes very similar to the ones Alex had seen in the training rings of Terraxum’s basic military compound. There were dozens of the metal platforms, each with mage dressed in an Imperial uniform standing beside it.

It didn’t take a lot of Alex’s thinking power to understand these would be the stages that the first rounds of the tournament would be fought. With a thousand participants, even if they wanted cut that number in half, five hundred fights would need to be conducted.

Dozens of stages suddenly didn’t feel like that many.

“Inheritance Selection Tournament will be single elimination, to start. Once the top sixty-four have been finalized, it will change to Double-elimination until we have our champion. And of course, Our top fifty will be granted the honor of entering the Inheritance.” The Empress’ voice thundered across the area, even as she still sat upon the cushioned chair of viewing box, “BEGIN!”

The first wave of combatants, seventy-two of them, had their names appear in large script above a designated platform, one to each side.

Alex looked around quickly, finding that neither he, nor any of their group were in that first round.

The fighters that were selected, began taking their assigned places. Each jumping, leaping, or otherwise landing on their designated platforms and sized up their opponents.

Without warning, the platforms ignited with a touch from the Imperial Mages, encasing the platforms in a translucent dome of protective aether.

All of the fighters seemed to take that as the signal to start because the stages were quickly awash in movement. Aether beams, elemental storms, swords of molten lava, explosions of various kinds cascaded across the floating rings as spells collided midair.

The fights had begun.

Alex and the others stood on the observation decks, their assigned group yet to be called. The sheer noise, the unfiltered destruction before them, was something awe inspiring.

Fights were being concluded just as swiftly as they had been started. Some of them only taking one or two exchanges before one, or both, of the fighters were left unable to continue. Blood spray, limbs were ripped or cut off. It was a gruesome display or martial prowess.

Garret sucked air through his teeth. “That’s… that’s a lot of people dying really fast.”

“They’re not dying,” Devon muttered, though he looked like he wasn’t sure of his own words. “The monitoring mages and the medic teams pull them out before lethal damage. I think.”

“I think,” Allie said sharply, “isn’t as comforting as you might like it to be.”

On the nearest platform, Alex watched an Adept of the Crimson Fist Sect drove a flaming gauntlet through his opponent’s conjured protection and sent him flying into the platform’s the edge. The loser struck the barrier and crumbled to the floor just as the platform dinged audibly with a burst of golden light.

Holly groaned sympathetically as she watched. “Every one of them’s fighting like this is the final round already.”

“It might as well be,” Alex said. “After all, half of them won’t even make it past today.”

Which was true. With the first part of the tournament being single elimination, every one of those who lost here would have their dream of claiming the inheritance cut short then and there. Of course many were already going all out.

One by one, the current duels ended. Combatants walked out, medics rushed in to carry away the losers, and new names began to roll across the massive projections hovering above the platforms. The rankings fluctuated on a new panel that sprung up on the wall below the Empress’ viewing box.

Above one of the platforms, it appeared:

[Arena Platform Nine

Competitor 97 — Alexander Pierce]

Garret clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, look at that. Show time already.”

Alex took a slow breath. His heartbeat drummed against his ribs already, excitement and anxietty fighting with his own body as the arena, and no winner would be had.

“Remember,” Holly said, leaning close. Her tone softened just enough for him alone to hear. “Don’t show everything. Win smart, not flashy.”

He smirked. “When have I ever done anything quietly?”

She arched a brow. “Exactly my point.”

He laughed once then turned toward the ascending platform that showed his name.

The runes at his feet lit up as he stepped on to the smooth metal surface. A rush of aether enveloped him, and his opponent creating a dome that sealed them in and cutting off the unending roar of the cheering crowd.

His opponent stood across the platform: a tall woman in sleek armor, her eyes crackling with dark lightning. She grinned when she saw him, a malicious smile that showed she was happy to be fighting the tournament enigma.

Alex flexed his hands, feeling the effect of his new gear on his body, the pulse of the Soulbright earrings against his body-gate at his neck.

This was it.

No more training. No more waiting.

The whole world was watching.

And Alexander Pierce was finally showing it on the stage.