Aetherios System: Whirlwind

Chapter 34: Dwindling

The next match came sooner than Alex expected, he was one of the very first matches of the next day.

His body was fully healed from his fight with Talbon, thanks easily to Allie and healing potion on top for good measure. His body required a lot of energy to heal, even the minor cuts and gashes, as his tissue was simply far too aether dense compared to others for basic healing spells to work.

His wyvern blood also didn’t help that. But Allies was well versed in the complications of healing his body by then and managed fine.

He stood once more beneath the burning light of the ascendancy, atop the arena’s suspended platforms.

Across from him stood his new opponent, a tall figure in pale-red armor, twin short-swords drawn, ribbons of wind and vapor swirling around their limbs. Their face was calm, sharp-eyed, almost serene.

“Match: Alex Pierce, Worldstrider Versus SyranJin, EmberSerpent Sect.” The familiar announcer’s voice rang out across the area.

The barrier sprung up around the platform soon after.

A single breath later, rain began to fall. But the rain was inside the barrier, not outside.

Thin sheets of silver droplets cascaded from the air, glowing faintly green from their inner aether. The scent hit him right after, acrid and bitter. It didn’t take a lot of brain power for Alex to know what it was that his opponent had conjured.

Poison.

He raised his arm, flicking up a translucent shield, but Syran was darting at him already, moving through the veil of rain, her shortswords flashing in a blur of steel and silver water spray.

Alex caught one blade on his aether short-sword, the clash ringing through his wrist and telling him that her strength stat was around twenty or so. The second blade flashed out and nicked his side, enough to draw a line of blood that burned when it met the rain that was already coating her weapon’s length.

He hissed as the burn began to spread from the contact. He felt his constitution began reacting, wanting to fight and dominate the poison that had started to infect him, but he mentally suppressed it. He wanted to know what the poison was designed to do, to figure out what Syran’s plan was, her strategy.

“Cute trick,” he muttered through clenched teeth, adding to the bluff he was already planning.

Syran only smiled faintly and spun away from him, flicking droplets from her blades as she went. The rain followed her motion, twisting and obeying her will to fall at an angle, avoiding his raised aether shield over his head.

For the first few minutes, Alex took the defensive approach.

Every strike, every dodge, every parry cost him a bit of his positioning. The platform was slick, his footing uncertain. Very quickly, he noticed that the poison in the rain wasn’t just targeting him but it was also eating into his gear. The aether poison was corroding the runes carved into the surface of his bracers and trying to worm its way into the threads of his robes.

Her plan is to drench me in the poison. The rain’s main function is disabling both fighter and their gear, piece by piece. He analyzed as he fought. Obby remained silent, letting him subtly know he was right, otherwise he would have received a scathing correction.

Alex changed his breathing, forcing it to grow ragged. It wasn’t one hundred percent fake, either, every inhale he took was laced with that chemical sting in the rain. His skin was cut in a few places already, small sure, but that was all it took. His fingers tingled. His knees felt heavier.

Syran came in again, both blades slicing through the air in a crossing motion that forced him to roll sideways. She smiled maliciously at him as he moved across the ground, and Alex learned the hard way that he wasn’t the only one with tricks to play.

A moment later, she flicked her fingers and the rain around him hardened into spears of water, shooting toward him in a deadly spray.

He countered with a flare of his wrist and a mental nudge into his storage bracer.Three of his remaining [Glyphcraft]’d aether crystals spun outward and detonated, clearing the incoming spears and the surrounding rain long enough for him to rise.

Alex sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Alright then,” he said. “Let’s stop pretending.”

Syran raised her brows mockingly before waving her hand to gather all the rain that was falling around Alex’s body. Dozens of the water spears from before were formed, each poised directly at him.

He trembled from head to toe, the poison in his tissue had weakened him, and she looked to ready to finish him off now that he seemingly had no recourse.

But, he finally released the control on his wyrm-blood, and it waited not event an instant to begin devouring the poison in his body. It was like released a ravenous beast on a freshly cooked pig barbecue pig. His blood subsumed the poison, eating it in a mere moment and converted it into energy that then bolstered his body instead.

Syran must have felt the change, a connection she had to her poison perhaps, as she reacted to the change in his body by scowling before sending the water spears crashing toward him.

He raised his free hand and channeled all the new energy in his body into a single cast of [Aether Burst] that erupted from his body in all directions, blowing away every projectile she had thrown at him.

He slammed his foot into the groundat the same time and he spun up the aether pattern for [Aether Grasp].

Ethereal chains shot up from the platform, encasing Syran’s feet before she could dodge away. Her eyes widened as the restraints swallowed her movement.

He followed immediately with [Energy Spear]

A projectile of condensed aethershot forward, forming into a sharp point that hammered against her torso. A film of water had already collected in front of her, protecting her from the vast majority of the attack, but it blasted away the defense in the process, leaving her open and forcing her to raise both swords in prediction of a follow up.

And Alex indeed hadn’t stop. He drew in the aether from his first implanted gem and layered his next spell before the [Energy Spear] had even landed.

[Aether Burst].

A directed shockwave of pureaether exploded from his palm. Then another. And another. Rapid-fire detonations, three, four, five, pounding into Syran’s defenses until her arms which held her blades gave way, the bones breaking and the limbs collapsed, the final burst catching her squarely in the upper right shoulder.

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The blast tore through armor, scattering fragments of aetherglass and silver. One of her swords flew from her hand. The other dangled weakly as she fell to one knee, and started clutching at her injured arm. The limb was nearly severed, with blood and rain mixing into streaks across the arena platform.

Alex stared at her for a moment, knowing the fight was already over. His face held pity and disappointment.

He’d been on the other end of that look before, he’d received it from the Aeralith Prince, and from the Chimera Queen when inside the dungeon. Being looked down on… he knew it hurt.

With a bit of will, he changed his face into a smile, and he bowed slightly at Syran as she slumped to the ground.

“Victory! Alex Pierce advances!” The announcer’s voice returned as the bubble was lowered and the medic team rushed to Syran’s side.

Alex straightened, and turned away, leaving the downed fighter with some dignity as the medic began their work.

The world still thundered with cheers when Alex slipped through the stone corridor leading underneath the arena.

Once he was alone, he thought through the fight. Idly realizing that Syran wasn’t as tough as Talbon had been. The later rounds were supposed to get harder, sure, but there was always upsets. Alex figured Talbon was a one of the better fighters, but he had simply gotten unlucky with Alex as an opponent too early on.

Syran on the other hand, she was good, an elite when compared to other adepts. But in this competition, she was average at best. Alex might have taken it too far, been a bit rough on her.

That doesn’t matter now. He thought to himself. Best simply to prepare for the next match.

There would only be one more fight in the single elimination bracket of the tournament. After that, it would change to double elimination. That would be the start of the true difficulties, the fights that would actually push Alex to his limits, maybe.

He would be using his martial style from that point, which was no small thing. And he still had yet to show all his other cards.

Would that be enough?

“Second thoughts again?” Obby chided.

It’s normal. I’m not the only one holding back, hiding spells, or skills. Hell, everyone in that top ten of the merit leaderboard probably has their own [Technique].

“Maybe, or maybe they don’t. And like you, they just have a lot of hidden cheats.”

Obby might have been right. But Alex was damn certain he wasn’t. He felt it deep in his gut, the top prodigies, the cream of the crop, they would have a [Technique]. He would need to be ready for that, one way or another.

***

Some of the team gathered in one of the preparation rooms. A narrow chamber carved into the lower levels of the arena.

Holly sat cross-legged on a crate, picking at the bandage the medic team had wrapped around a cut across her thigh. Devon leaned against the wall beside her, checking the state of his rifle, or what was left of it. The barrel was scarred, the runic channels along the stock burned from overload. Garret was tapping his foot, his outer robe jacket slung over one shoulder, still riding the post-match adrenaline perhaps.

Alex came in last, still rolling his joints and massaging the spots where Syran’s blade had clipped him earlier. The faintest sting of her poison lingered, but his constitution had long since purged any traces of it still inside his body.

“Alright,” he said, exhaling as he dropped onto the bench along the wall. “Who’s still standing?”

Garret raised his hand first. “Me, you, Kate, Selka, Henry, Ghrukk, Zach, and Holly. Everyone else’s been knocked out.”

Alex nodded slowly and shot a sympathetic look towards Devon. He didn’t look at Alex in turn, simply focusing on his rifle.Alex hadn’t seen all their fights, and he had missed Devon’s, but it sounded like it was really close, but his equipment just didn’t last.

“So about half.” Alex eventually said.

Garret stopped tapping his foot, finally, and leaned against the wall opposite Alex. “That’s the rub, yeah. Kate and Zach are off getting ready for tomorrow. I think Henry is back to tending his plants right now, doing druid shit.”

That sounded about right to Alex. He didn’t even ask where Selka and Ghrukk were. The mercenaries-turned-friends were even more distance then some of the team had been lately. Myrae and Doran had their own things going on once they fell out of the tournament. He couldn’t expect them to show up for meetings.

“Well, not much else we can do besides prepare anyway,” Alex said as he stood up. “You and Holly know how best to prepare yourselves. Its the last fight until the double-elimination. High chances that winning just the next two fights will guarantee your spot in the inheritance.”

Both of them nodded.

“I’ll go get ready myself then,” he finished. He walked toward the exit, stopping by Holly for a brief moment to brush his hand softly against her cheek. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. “See you at the villa.”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” she shot back.

Then he continued on, walking out of the room.

***

The next day, it was Alex’s turn to play the role of the over anxious one in their relationship.

Alex paced the floor, boot heels striking harshly against the stone with every energetic step. It was usually Holly who did the worrying, and the pacing. He finally understood why she did it so much.

He was already geared up, armor, robes, his new weapon. Everything was ready, but he kept checking it as he walked, each turn of his chosen path was added to by a tug on a strap, or a touch against the weapon hilt tucked at his waist.

The door opened with a creaky grind.

Holly stepped inside, a wash of light following her before the door sealed again. Her expression was finely crafted false confidence. The same look he always gave her in times like these.

“You’re pacing holes into the floor,” she said.

Alex gave a thin smile. “That’s what I always say.”

“And it’s quite fun. I think I’ll use it more often.”

He gave the barest bit of a chuckle before continuing his looping journey inside the room. “I don’t know why it had to be him.”

Holly sighed. “You’ve fought tougher opponents. You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not that.”

“I know, I know. But that’s just how you have to think about it. It’s another fight, another match. You can’t get all caught up in your feelings right now.”

Alex let out a long sigh. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now. How would you feel?”

She studied him, searching his face. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I’d be scared.”

Alex stopped his pacing. “Really?”

“No, but it got you to stop didn’t it?” she grinned.

Alex rolled his eyes. “The matches are picked by the Empire, I have serious doubt its even a bit random. Lady Xhiu already confirmed this to us. So to do this... they know what this means.”

“Maybe,” she said softly, “but you still have only one goal. No matter who’s standing across from you out there.” Then Holly reached out and wrapped her arms around him.

The gesture broke the emotional wall he’d been holding up. He stood there, rigid for a second before leaning into the embrace. Her hair was soft against his face, the smell of lavender filled his nostrils as he breathed her in.

“It’s going to be alright,” she murmured. “You’ve made it this far. Just… one fight at a time.”

Alex shook his head, the motion barely perceptible. “It’s not just another fight. You know that.”

Holly didn’t reply. She only held him tighter, then pulled back and gave a small, sad smile and opened her mouth to speak.

The announcer’s voice erupted from above, cutting her off before she could begin. “Competitors, prepare for the next round. Platforms will rise in sixty seconds.”

Holly exhaled deeply, stepping back from him. “Time’s up.”

He nodded. “Guess it is.”

She placed a hand briefly against his chest. “Good luck, Alex.”

He managed a small smile. “You too. Don’t forget you have a match later, too.”

Light and heat hit him all at once as he emerged into the open air. He steadied his breathing and the trembling in his fingers as he stepped onto the platform and it rose upward.

Across from him, another piece of the platform was already rising. The two sides connecting into a single piece. A figure stood on it, shrouded by the glare of the light. Their stance was relaxed, confident in a way that caused Alex’s throat to tighten slightly.

“Are you ready?” Alex called out. His voice remained even, despite the hammering rush of blood in his head.

The man across from him tilted his head, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. “Are you?”

The crowd roared as the wind whipped between them,.

“Match: Worldstrider Alexander Pierce versus, Worldstrider Zachary Weller!”

The protective bubble appeared around them.

The fight had begun.