Gacha Harem System

As the scorpion dashed towards him, Lukas tried to leap back.

However, his feet tangled beneath him for no reason he could identify, and he stumbled, hitting the floor an instant later.

Immediately, he planted his hand to push himself but his hand slipped on the dry stone, as if it was wet.

He went back down, catching himself on his forearm, but the scorpion had already reached him.

The spirit drove its pincers towards him, but he rolled to the side, the claws snapping shut on the air inches away from his shoulder.

He kept rolling until he had enough space to scramble to his feet, but now, something was covering his face.

He reached up and tore it off, only to discover that it was his own jacket that had somehow folded over his face as he tolled.

An instant later, he threw himself to the side.

A dire beam tore through where he’d been standing to slam into the ground, sending fragments of stone flying in every direction.

The scorpion was already charging up another beam, but its beam was different from that of a real scorpion.

It was the same translucent white color as the spirit itself, but it glowed with energy that told Lukas the effect would be just the same as being hit by the beam of an actual Deathstalker Scorpion.

The scorpion fired, and the beam tore through the air at him.

The moment he planted his feet to dodge, the sole of his shoe slipped out from under him, messing up his balance.

Instead of jumping to the side, he found himself stumbling forward, his body moving in entirely the wrong direction.

His eyes widened as he saw it was already too late to dodge the attack, so he raised his arms before him and activated [Wing Fortress].

Woosh!

Only two wings erupted from his back instead of four.

One of the wings stuttered on activation, with only the second one moving fast enough to snap in front of him.

But even with that, the wing wasn’t fast enough, only managing to block half the beam. The other beam slipped under the wing, continuing forward to slam right into Lukas’ chest.

He was sent flying immediately.

A second later, he hit the arena floor hard, rolled with it, and was back on his feet before the scorpion could do anything else.

His chest burnt from where the beam had hit him, but he didn’t allow the pain to show on his face.

Instead, his mind catalogued everything that was happening to him.

He could feel the misfortune building around him, drawing him back without any obvious supernatural effects.

All the stumbles and slipping wasn’t exactly an accident. And while each incident was small, their effect was anything but.

And he could tell that if this went on for two long, there was only one outcome to be seen.

His defeat at the hands of Ansel.

He had to reach the [Shaman].

The spirit scorpion was a problem, but it was a symptom. All he needed to do was shut down the source and the skill would be irrelevant.

He needed to close the distance and put Ansel down before the effect of the curse got any worse than it already was.

He looked up to see Ansel watching everything that was happening, a wide grin on his face.

Lukas snarled and began running.

His toes caught a piece of rubble on the floor that had been broken from an earlier fight, and his body pitched forward.

He almost faceplanted before catching himself on his palm, then threw himself to the side.

Just as he’d expected, the scorpion’s tail drove into the stone where he’d been, shattering it completely.

The curse usually activated in moments that would be most disadvantageous to him.

He was back on his feet and moving again, this time watching the floor as he ran, and deliberately moving each foot so as not to fall or stumble on anything.

It seemed to work, and Ansel’s grin faded slightly as he closed the distance between them.

His hand moved to his side, where he unsheathed a small knife, glaring at Lukas.

The moment Lukas’ attention had shifted to Ansel, the curse acted up again, and his feet somehow bumped into each other.

He pitched forward, his momentum carrying him faster than he’d been moving, and in that split second, be there himself forward, converting the stumble into a leap

He crossed the short distance between them like a missile, and Ansel had just enough time for his eyes to go wide before Lukas hit him.

The impact sent them both off their feet and they slammed into the ground with Lukas on top and Ansel below, both of them sliding several feet across the stone before stopping.

Lukas glanced down to see Ansel’s knife buried deep in his arm but he didn’t bother pulling it out.

He simply grabbed Ansel’s collar with his free hand, lifted it, and slammed the guy’s head down into the stone.

The ground cracked under his head, but the force wasn’t enough to do more than stun him.

Lukas’ eyes narrowed at that.

"Let’s see the misfortune stop this," he growled, pulling his fist back and driving it down.

Ansel’s head jerked to the side.

The punch missed by an inch, his knuckles shattering the stone beside Ansel’s head.

Lukas pulled his fist back and punched again.

This one glanced off Ansel’s cheek, sending his head snapping to the side.

Ansel tried to stop Lukas’ punch with one hand, while his free hand found the knife still in Lukas’s arm. He pulled it out and drove it into his stomach.

Lukas’ body clenched around the impact, but in that same second, he caught movement at the edge of his vision.

He threw himself sideways off Ansel, the spirit scorpion’s claws snapping shut through empty air where his back had been a moment before.

While still on the floor, he drew his leg back with all his strength and kicked.

This time the kick actually landed, slamming into Ansel’s side and sending him sliding into the legs of his own spirit construct.

The scorpion staggered, its body flickering.

Lukas scrambled to his feet, nearly losing his footing on the smooth stone, and dashed forward, intent on taking advantage of this slim window.

He raised his foot and brought it down with all the strength he had.

The misfortune fired at the last possible moment.

His planted foot somehow slipped, sending him falling and pulling his stomp off-course.

In that same instant, he dragged it back with all he had, wrenching the feet towards Ansel.

The attack hit the floor, but not a second before slamming solidly into Ansel’s side.

A loud snap filled the air as Ansel’s ribs on the side of the attack broke.

Ansel’s breathing changed immediately, becoming wet as he choked, showing his ribs had pierced his lungs.

His eyes widened in panic, and the spirit scorpion dissolved into nothingness.

The tingling across Lukas’s skin faded with it as the misfortune, without its caster to sustain it, was released.

Lukas hit the ground, his wrist taking the impact at the wrong angle. He felt it twist, but he simply grunted, pushing himself to one knee, breathing hard.

He turned to look at Ansel. The man was on his back, one hand pressed to his side, each breath shallow and labored.

His glasses had come off his nose, and his eyes were wide open, looking up at the sky above the stadium.

Rollo walked forward to study the young man, before looking up at the spectators, then raising his voice.

"Winner, Lukas Valentine!"