“Ah, the human has arrived. Come, come,” an older elfish woman said and beckoned him closer.

  She wore a heavy bronze robe with a long train and stood at the center of a group of other richly appointed elves. They weren’t the only people up on the observation deck, just the nicest dressed. Off to the left and right were more than a dozen orcs, elves, and dwarves. There was also a large cyclops standing in the corner. Most of them stood near the railing, quietly chatting with each other.

  The entire platform jutted out over the stands. They could lean up against the railing and get a bird’s eye view of the arena. It must have been so entertaining for them to see Luke portaling around the arena and Fever spreading lava. He looked over the assembled guests as he walked towards the elf that had called him over.

  They were all dressed well, but Luke could tell some were uneasy being in high class company. He guessed that some of them were sponsored contestants, ringers for the upcoming fights. With the glory betting, he was sure that some of the richer viewers would want to ensure they didn’t ever lose their glory. And Luke’s presence in the fights might have upended several people’s plans.

  “I was ever so interested to see one of your kind, particularly with the recent unpleasantness. How is it that you made your way into the Undercity?”

  “Nothing too surprising. I simply wished to test my mettle. Not a particularly interesting answer, Miss or.... I’m sorry, how should I address you?”

  She made a popping sound and said, “Please excuse my rudeness, Luke of Machines. I am Countess Notayo Obayangbon and this is my arena. I must say your Thenubian accent is excellent. It’s almost like you were born here.”

  “Thank you, Countess Notayo Obayangbon. And thank you for the invite. Your arena is a delight,” Luke said. He turned to the elf by her side and said, “Baroness Ewaen, a pleasure to see you again. I must admit, I hadn’t expected to see you again, let alone so soon.”

  The countess cut in before she could reply. “Yes. It was her idea to have you come up here. She told me about your encounter on the train and we had to see if you were the same human.”

  A young man on her other side scoffed and said, “Of course it was the same human. How many platinum classes do you think their species has? Two or three at the most.”

  Luke bristled at the mention of his class. It wasn’t a secret anymore that he had a platinum class, but he still had months of ingrained habits. The blackmail had worked its way into his subconscious and it would take time to retrain his instincts. He smiled and replied, “That may be true. I only know of two other humans on Earth with a platinum class. It has been five years, but we are all still new to magic.”

  The jerk looked down his nose at him and said, “You shouldn’t even be here. I don’t know why you were allowed in the capital when humans aren’t part of the Empire yet.”

  The baroness put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Viscount Osifo, our treaty with them allows free travel on both sides of the portals. I know for a fact you have visited Earth. Why begrudge him a visit to the greatest city in the Universe?”

  The viscount grumbled and said, “Well, as long as he doesn’t stay.”

  Luke didn’t plan on it, but he couldn’t help but reply, “Actually, I think that I might stay. I haven’t decided yet, but I just won a dispersal today. Part of that dispersal was the Falodun building, so I wouldn’t need to find a place to stay.”

  “Broken legs and monster meat,” Viscount Osifo interjected, using the Thenubian expression for bullshit. “A human could never win a dispersal, let alone a full building.”

  “You are right about that. I only won part of a building. I went to court today with Lord Momoh, and he won the majority of the holdings. But I was given a portion as well and I might choose to stay here since it would cost me almost nothing,” Luke said.

  “He’s telling the truth, Osifo,” Baroness Ewaen said, insulting him by not using his full title. “Remember the duel I told you about? Lord Momoh was the challenger and Luke of Machines was his second.”

  Osifo frowned deeper, “So he’s an elf killer then. Enjoying ill gotten gains after cutting down one of the peers of the Empire.” He slashed his hands down. “Is that what your partner is? One of the Falodun household that you took the oath over for. Did you force her to fight for you? She was announced as Bosa of Domestic, does that mean she never wanted to fight?”

  “I’m not forcing her to fight, right Bosa?” Luke said.

  Bosa had been standing at the edge of the conversation and looked awkward when all eyes turned to her. She slipped a strand of hair behind her long pointed ear and said, “Master Luke of Machines is employing me for a wage, I have no oaths to force me to fight. I am fighting as a dutiful servant, of my own free will.”

  “See, she’s fine. So what if she doesn’t like to fight? I’m paying her plenty. If she really didn’t want to fight she could just quit,” Luke said. He had gathered from her response that she wanted to lay the groundwork for separating from him and infiltrating important key sites. If he acted like an overbearing boss, it would make that easier for her.

  Osifo protested again and Luke fired back. The conversation drifted away from them and on to new things. Apparently there was a longer than average wait between rounds because they had to repair the damage Fever did to the arena with her lava power. It had melted and compromised float runes all over. The organizers had expected this, so her fight had been scheduled with a long intermission afterwards.

  Various people talked to him about Earth and his class. He answered anything they wanted about the former and nothing about the latter. He tried to be polite, but didn’t want his competition to know about the tank he was going to summon later.

  Bosa wandered off and talked with various people, likely sowing the seeds of her imminent departure.

  When it was almost time for the next round, they let him leave. He wasn’t fighting in this round, but they wouldn’t let him watch and get information on their opponent’s classes. Luke was happy with the rule because it meant that he had time to repair his power armor. It might be a rush job, but he needed it to be functional again.

  When he got back to the locker room, he pulled out his inscriber and mana torch. With his limited time, he couldn’t repair everything perfectly. He could either repair the life rune and the mech would be under his control again, or he could repair the inertia rune and be protected from sudden impacts. Would he rather be faster so he could avoid hits, or have protection for when he did get hit? He started bending the metal and chitin back into place with the mana torch as he thought about it.

  He remembered that with the life rune out, his weapons were also out of commission. With how useful the lightning spell had been, he had to have that back. The inertia rune would have to wait until after this round.

  While he prepared his tools, Bosa activated the privacy runes and did a little dance. “Oh my god, Luke! That was perfect! I talked to so many movers and shakers in the Empire’s government. I bet half of them want to give me a job after this Tournament. I’m going to collect so much information, SPEAR is going to give me a medal when I get back.” She giggled and then gently slapped herself on the cheek. “Sorry, I guess I got too excited. I hope you don’t mind if I head out so soon.”

  Luke grinned at her excitement. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s your mission and I don’t really need a servant anyway. If I wanted-”

  He was interrupted when the door to the locker room suddenly slid to the side. Their assigned orc attendant stood there with an apologetic look on his face. He bowed and said, “I regret to inform you that plans have changed. Your next round starts now. You have a hundred and twenty seconds to take your place in the arena.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “What? We need time for repairs. This isn’t fair,” Bosa said, her fists clenched.

  “Perhaps, Bosa of Domestic, but Countess Notayo is the one that made the change. We must obey her wishes,” the orc said.

  Luke swore and tossed his tools back into the Black Mamba. He hurriedly climbed into his slim power armor. It might not be working, but it was still armor. It was better than nothing.

  He clanked back to the arena, Bosa fuming by his side. It was times like this that Luke really missed the old Repair Craft skill. If he still had that, his power armor would have been repaired before he even headed up to the observation deck.

  He looked up to where he knew the crowd was waiting. The Countess, and probably others, had screwed him, probably because they were worried about the results of this next fight. He hadn’t even cared about winning before. Bosa already had the glory she needed. But then they went and did this. Now it was personal. He was going to win the damn tournament.

  The arena was pristine and smooth, like the ice right after a zamboni. Their opponents were already set up on the southern edge, showboating for the crowd. There was a tall and thin elf, white armor and long blond hair. He wore a bow over his shoulder, but his long spear was clearly his weapon of choice. His partner was a stocky dwarf. He wore bright blue armor that looked like it had been moulded to his skin. He held a kite shield as big as he was, and something that looked like a sci-fi gun in the other hand.

  “At long last, our contestants are ready. Without further ado, I give you Hack and Crash vs Sentry and Splash! The battle starts in fifteen seconds, make your declarations now!”

  Luke scowled. They didn’t even get a chance to pose for the crowd. He had a feeling it had an impact on the amount of glory gathered after the fight. He shook his head. He didn’t care about that shit anyways. He turned to Bosa and said, “As soon as the fight starts, run back and get behind cover. I’ll be right behind you. Get all your needles out and have them run interference for us.”

  She sharply wiggled her hands in agreement, the most serious jazz hands ever. Luke returned the gesture and turned his thoughts to his mana core. He was going to use a skill the instant the fight started.

  “May the gods smile down on us all. All glory to the winners. Begin!”

  Everyone burst into action.

  The elf in white, Sentry, took to the air. He rose up slowly and casually spun his spear. Splash, the dwarf in blue, raced forward a few feet and used a low wall as cover. Without even looking, he fired off three shots from his strange weapon. Each shot made a deep thump sound as it left the wide barrel. The projectiles looked like glass balls the size of his fist with different colored liquids inside. Red, blue, and yellow balls arced high into the air before falling down.

  Bosa sprinted backwards, aiming for cover fifty feet back. As she ran, needles started lifting up from hidden spots all along her armor. More and more appeared, some small some a full six inches long, until she had two dozen glittering needles rotating around her.

  Luke paused for a moment and activated Summon Vehicle before racing after her. He had wanted to save this skill for the final match, but not anymore. A M10 Booker started forming off to their left. Gray mana puffed out, wire frame violet mana outlined every edge. It was a tight fit between the various walls and pillars. The tank’s main gun was peeking up and over the wall ahead of it.

  Without waiting for it to finish forming, Luke ran after Bosa. They didn’t have far to go, but his superior stats let him catch up with her right as she juked left behind a pillar. He ducked right behind a low wall nearby. The dwarf hadn’t expected them to run and had shot his three glass balls in a pattern in front of them, designed to catch anyone rushing forward.

  The balls shattered as they hit the ground and splashed out wide. The red liquid turned into a strange cloud of vapor and hung in the air. The blue froze a fifteen foot area, and the yellow turned to acid and started eating away a ten foot hole in the floor. Splash grunted in frustration as he saw all three shots had missed. He placed his gun on the edge of the wall and scanned for a clue of where they had gone.

  Sentry started floating forward, his spear raised above his shoulder, ready to throw. “I’m surprised you are so timid, Crash. I can assure you that whatever machine you have summoned here won’t be enough to take us out.”

  Luke saw all this through the eyes of his Machine Soul that he had stuck into the fully formed tank. He ordered the tank to shoot to injure both combatants, starting with the dwarf’s gun.

  Both machine guns immediately started spitting summoned bullets. Splash’s gun shattered and exploded its ammunition. Green gas and ice shot out in a violent explosion. The dwarf cried out in pain and stumbled back. The tank tracked his movement and sent more shots downstream, denting his bracers and destroying his right pauldron.

  Simultaneously, the other machine gun tracked Sentry and fired at the floating elf. The shots bounced off an invisible barrier surrounding him. It revealed a geodesic sphere all around Sentry and was clearly the source of his flight since he was standing on it. The elf smirked as the first rounds were deflected, but that smile slowly fell as the bullets kept coming. A dozen rounds a second slammed into that barrier and cracks started forming right away.

  The whole time, the Booker had been raising its cannon so it could aim at the floating elf. After seeing what the little guns could do, Sentry clearly didn’t want to see what the big gun could do. He moved his transparent sphere off to the side and simultaneously threw his spear down at the tank.

  Luke slumped down before he even saw the spear impact. His summons were weak and he didn’t expect it to hold up to a high leveled elf’s main attack. His pessimism was blown away by a booming crack. He peeked over the edge of the wall to see that Sentry’s spear had been hit by the cannon’s gun. It was half melted and spinning through the air away from the arena. The elf had tried to send his spear right down the barrel, but had the worst timing ever.

  A moment later the spear disappeared and reappeared in Sentry’s hands. He looked at his half melted weapon in abject shock. The surprise even made his control of the sphere falter and he started sinking down. Anger soon replaced shock and he dropped the useless weapon. He held out his hands to his sides and two long spectral swords appeared, attached to his forearms. They were each seven feet long and a foot wide, the ends jutting past his transparent shield. The continued plink plink plink of the machine gun fire on his geodesic sphere only made him madder. Cracks were forming.

  While his partner was gearing up for a counterattack, Splash was trying to move out from behind cover. Every time he peeked out, the machine gun would fire. The metal wall was collecting a bevy of dents from the bullets. Eventually, he tried something else behind the wall and a thick grey cloud stretched out and enveloped it. It was thicker than the tank’s sensors could peirce and kept expanding out.

  Luke frowned. He couldn’t let Sir-Mixes-A-Lot have the freedom and time to get closer or concoct something worse. He fired off a pair of Vortex Doors, one on the ground nearby, and the other within the gray cloud. The obscuring mist started seeping up through the portal as soon as it formed.

  “Bosa, you are up,” Luke said and pointed towards the portal.

  She gave him a serious nod and sent half her needles through the portal. A whizzing sound picked up within the cloud and a high pitched scream sounded. It was closely followed by a soft thump and some moaning and groaning.

  Sentry was distracted by the sound and turned to glance at his companion. He searched the cloud, but couldn’t find him even from above.

  The distraction cost him. Luke’s tank had been constantly trying to adjust the main gun to pin down Sentry. That brief pause was enough for the cannon to lock onto him and fire. A second thunderous boom rang out.

  A high pitched scream sounded and the crowd gasped.

  Sentry’s shield had been totally shattered from the cannon slug. The projectile had gone right through it and then through his right knee. The elf screamed and fell to the ground, clutching what was left of his leg.

  The smoke around Splash cleared and revealed a heavily injured dwarf. Needles were stuck into him all over, including one in his left eye. He might have torn it out by now, but his hands were pinned to the steel floor by foot long needles.

  Luke stood up and slowly walked over to the two crying and moaning opponents. “I assume you are forfeiting.”

  “Yes, Doloro damn you. We forfeit," Sentry yelled, his voice ragged.

  The System of the World gave Luke a nice little bonus when Sentry said those words.

  The level up seemed a bit easy, until Luke realized that this one and the previous skill level up made perfect sense. His class was War Machine. Killing monsters was similar to war, but fighting people was even closer. Of course his skills would level up faster when he was doing what his class was made for. He bet his levels would skyrocket if he ever actually went to war. Hopefully he would never find out.

  The bridges extended to the floating arena and healers rushed over.

  Luke loudly said, “Sorry if I was unnecessarily violent. I’m usually much more reserved. But I was rushed.” He slowly looked up to the observation deck where he knew the countess was looking down on them.