Back at the Dome
Anthony has yet to be disappointed by the girl he found the name of to be Scarlet. Even with her lacking skill in actual combat techniques, often opting to go with a more instinctive and brute force manner of attack, she still always goes with the right choice in the battle. And while others might’ve believed her staying back and weakening Sentinel over time was a coward’s way of fighting, Anthony fully supports it.
And seeing Sentinel’s manner of challenging Scarlet almost had Anthony bursting out into laughter. But he had to hide it. After all, that wouldn’t make a good impression on the person he wants to impress.
The reasoning for Sentinel’s actions are rather obvious when one knows where he is from, since overly familiar actions like that are extremely common there. Which Scarlet might not know. That or she just doesn’t know where he’s from.
Amusing regardless.
After a second though, the amusement on Anthony’s face dies at the sight currently playing out on the screen.
A few seconds after the man was mauled, the glowing golden light grows brighter and brighter, with his eyes being the brightest of all. He then spreads his arms out on either side of him and lets out a roar before charging straight towards Scarlet.
Some sort of berserk skill? Probably at least epic rarity too if it lets him completely ignore a wound like that.
“It might even be legendary,” the voice of Anthony’s fae echoes in his head, surprising him for a second.
So, you finally decided to show up? After most of the first round duels of interest are already over? Just skip the rest of the tournament why don’t cha?
“You don’t need assistance from me in a game of petty battles between children,” Artoria answers, used to Anthony’s personality after having been contracted with the strange man for months already. Many of those having her wishing she had chosen a different person to contract with, even if he is an extraordinary talent.
If that’s so, then why did ya come here at all?
“You know why,” she answers, and Anthony’s eyes gravitate towards Scarlet on the video feed. “It would appear as if both of my brothers without contracts decided to contract in the same year. And father won’t give any of us details on their contractors.”
Couldn’t you just ask him? He’s your brother after all.
“While that probably worked for Artemis, I am not on as good of terms with Tarankar as he is.”
Anthony goes silent for a bit as he watches Sentinel rush in to strike at Scarlet, becoming a much larger problem than he was before. Large enough that she is actually going all out from what Anthony has seen of her fighting anyways. She’s even taking several hits from the man in the process, although shrugging most of them off without a care.
But you do want to work with them, right?
Artoria stays silent for a second before sighing and answering, “Yes. There are team competitions during the tournament for the seat of heir, and without competing, my chances are pretty much shot.”
And what better team than a team that are all at about the same level and age, chosen at about the same time…
“Correct,” she says only for the two to fall silent again. That is, until Anthony can’t help but notice the wounds on Scarlet healing far quicker than they should be. “Looks like Tarankar’s contracted has some sort of legendary regeneration skill.”
Why do you believe it’s legendary?
Without missing a beat, the fae answers, “Because she’s regenerating even from wounds caused by divine light, which should drastically stall regeneration. And the only skills that can ignore that effect are legendary ones.”
Anthony’s eyes widen and he continues to watch the battle with even more interest this time.
Just how did she get a legendary regeneration skill like that within two weeks of contracting?
Scarlet
Okay, this guy is a much bigger pain than I gave him credit for. No matter how many wounds I inflict on him, he just won’t drop dead!
“The guy most likely has a legendary berserk skill,” Tar says, sounding rather impressed. “He probably won’t be dropping until you either destroy his brain or his skill’s effect wears off.”
And how long might that-
I’m cut off mid-thought when he charges me again and slams his fist straight towards me with far more strength and speed than he had earlier, making me attempt to dodge it only to still get nicked by it and sent flying by a burst of divine light hitting my shoulder.
I can’t help but grimace as I get back up from the ground, very much pissed off at the state of my jacket. Even if a hell of a lot more of it is intact than if this was before it was turned into magi-tech armor.
But I don’t want to waste a repair on it since that’ll cost mana. Which is something I need to spend carefully in this fight. And all of his attacks are hitting my sides, shoulders, arms, and legs anyways, so nothing too important is exposed. Not that that would matter since they censor it anyways.
Doesn’t change that it’ll feel weird if it happened.
Damnit, what type of skill does this anyways?! It’s absolutely broken!
“Well, it’ll most likely have a backlash as well, not to mention that he’ll probably die the moment it runs-” Tar pauses mid-sentence when the golden light vanishes in an instant and the man who was currently charging at me just face plants into the ground. Then Tar finishes. “Runs out. Like that.”
I blink in surprise before finding myself in the dome again.
The heck?
“All of the damage you dealt to him while he was berserk should’ve been kept in a sort of stasis, where it didn’t affect him until the skill ran out its duration,” Tar explains, making me understand that I probably would’ve been a lot happier if I had just avoided him most of that fight.
Anyways, I quickly notice the many, many people staring at me and Sentinel in the dome.
I look up to find that there aren’t any duels going on right now.
Guess they all watched our duel?
Then clapping can be heard from above us all, making me raise my head to find Viper looking directly between me and Sentinel. And as if copying her, a large majority of the students join her.
Okay, what’s happening?
“Don’t ask me,” Tar says with the mental equivalent of a shrug as if I wasn’t just talking to myself and was asking him.