Knights Apocalyptica
Chapter 239: Opening Ceremony

The next couple of weeks were a constant movement and hunt through the wasteland. In reality, it was wonderful for Erec. The fresh air and constant fighting were the most welcome distractions he could imagine, giving his mind and body a way to stay occupied. For the most part, it didn’t push him much further in Virtues, but it did bring something to advance him along.

Cognition: Rank D - Tier 1 → Rank D - Tier 2

Perception: Rank D - Tier 4 → Rank D - Tier 6

It was a gain to his mental attributes, as through hunting and his Q.A.P., he had broken past the barrier. Not as impactful as another boost to Agility or Vigor, but every bit still helped. They didn’t track down another level-8 monster, as those were far and few between, and the last one had been a bit borderline for their entire group.

The time going through the wasteland was as it always was—a vast desolate stretch of sand, dirt, and withered and barren wildlife. Sometimes there was vegetation. This place was as it was meant to be since the Goddess left it wreathed in her holy flames: a barren and gone landscape, and domination of death and decay.

With little scenery, Erec had ample time to go through his blessings.

Name: Erec of House Audax

Health: 100% | Mana: 100% | Stamina: 100%

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Strength: [Rank B] | [Tier 3]

Vigor: [Rank C] | [Tier 9]

Agility: [Rank C] | [Tier 6]

Perception: [Rank D] | [Tier 6]

Cognition: [Rank D] | [Tier 2]

Psyche: [Rank D] | [Tier 4]

Mysticism: [Rank F] | [Tier 4]

Soul (Aspect: Fire): [Rank B] | [Tier 1]

———————————————————————

Divine Talents:

Fury

He'd come far, breaking past the threshold of Rank B for two of his Virtues, with the third—Vigor—rapidly on track to advance as well. In terms of the tournament, he felt confident going into it, even against Knight Errants who had been able to spend time in the field. His level of Strength was commendable, and Fury brought that to a whole different level.

That wasn't to say, as he walked through the desolate landscape, that the only thing to look at was his Blessing and to obsess over his Virtues. Now and then, little pockets of life could be seen creeping up. Twigs with leaves, verdant grass, and the occasional critter roaming were doing their best to reclaim the landscape. How it would look in another hundred years, Erec didn't know. But he knew at least the Kingdom's goal of expanding outward and reclaiming the surface for their people was a noble one that he would pursue to the ends of this earth.

Still, his friends seemed happy enough. Each of them had seen their gains. Late at night, by campfires, he, Bedwyr, and Enide would bond, discussing their future as a family, hopes, and dreams.

“We’ll miss this when we’re back in the walls,” Enide remarked one night, as the three of them sat up looking at the stars. “I don’t think people are meant to be tucked away in tiny homes, or under the ground. I think we’re meant for this. Roaming under the heavens.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to do that,” Erec had assured her. These long-ranging wasteland missions would surely become more common with how the Kingdom was going.

“I’ll hold you to that, big guy.” She said, and then started to joke with Bedwyr—most nights out here were like that, peaceful times with company. He often stayed up later than the rest, though not alone, since Bedwyr also seemed to have trouble sleeping.

The two of them would speak late into the night. Discussing just what being a Knight of the Round Table was. With his latest advancement into Soul, Erec had much more of a grasp on what it meant. He knew there were seats at the Round Table. Each was a mantle fit for a regal knight to sit with the others.

As for what it was? The best he could tell was that the round table transcended this world. An almost ethereal, constant source of power. From his connection to his Soul, the root of his mantle, and who he had been in the past. It was a connection to that strength in the round table itself. He told Bedwyr as much and even told him what he knew of King Arthur, recalling that vague conversation with the other part of himself and discussing the King and how they weren't fit to rule.

“Too much for now,” Bedwyr had said, as the stars blazed above, staring at the fire. “I barely even know what you’re talking about. But it feels right.”

It didn’t matter what they spoke about in those late-night conversations with his brother. It just mattered that they happened. Day by day, as they trekked through the wasteland and hunted together, the bond only grew. The bond he’d felt as a kid, which vanished when their mother went, was starting to creep back into his heart.

He'd missed this. His entire childhood after her absence had felt like he was chasing his brother’s shadow. Trying to prove that he, too, could be worthwhile. But now, there wasn't that drive of competition. Rather, every day, seeing his brother spear down a monster while he slew another with his axe, was a feeling of relief. Knowing that the two of them were as they’d meant to be. Two Knights, fighting side by side.

He began to care less about Bedwyr’s having no desire to join the tournament, as that wasn't vital. The most important part is that he’d found his brother again.

Still, the days passed, and the number of hunters out in the field began to decrease, as did the number of sites they found. With Garin's ability to use animals to check ahead of time whether or not a particular hunt was worth pursuing, they saved time. But more and more often, he discovered their query was gone. It made the fighting sparser, as more and more targets were removed, having already been handled by other hunting groups going about their business.

They'd stockpiled quite a large number of monster trophies in the back of their caravan. Proof for the points they would soon earn once they turned them in. They would split them once they’d gotten back. Erec and Bedwyr had agreed to give Enide their portion, which they had no use for. His brother said it was a gift to ‘their new family member.’

Erec hadn't even looked at the list of things they could redeem them for, not caring so much about the rewards, versus the mere act of hunting the monsters to begin with, being a reward in and of itself. So, he would let them do with whatever they wished, especially since his girlfriend had set her eyes on a prize.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Days passed. Pleasant nights spent around a warm fire and good company.

Sir Matt even began to talk more to all of them, going over their battles for the day, discussing their tactics and points that he thought they could work on and improve. It seemed that, although he wanted nothing to do with teaching students, as he had confessed earlier, he had an apt mind for battle strategies. Using his pointers, their teamwork slowly improved, gradually, bit by bit.

As the time wound down outside the walls and the tournament drew nearer, Erec felt anticipation begin to build. It was easy to fly by when one was so hands-on every day, moving, fighting, and spending quality time with the people you cared about. But inevitably, when such a big event drew near, your mind kept turning to it, wondering what it would be like.

In response, they began to head back towards the walls. Their caravan was laden with trophies from their various slain beasts. Rushing ever onward, they once more closed the distance back to the kingdom.

The wasteland sped by, life and death, and the wake of monster corpses his and many groups had cleared out were left to rot in its cursed exterior.

With good pace, they arrived exactly three days before the tournament. The day of the hunt. At the gate of the Steel Curtain, they were greeted by a Knight of the Verdant Oak.

“Well done,” he exclaimed as he went through the monster trophies. He hummed to himself and made efficient progress, marking down on a scrap of paper. Ultimately, they earned 843 points, which Erec let his friends divide among themselves. Unaware of its worth, and not quite caring. Enide and Garin rushed towards a quartermaster with their points.

Erec asked the question that had been burning his mind to the Knight who’d counted their kills as his friends left. “Who won the hunt?”

“There was a group with 1237; at the end of the day, if they’re the highest, they’ll be awarded 500 points for their victory. Based on my tally, I believe your lot is in eighteenth place. There’s still some out there.” The Knight pointed back to the wasteland.

Erec thanked him and, with the rest of their friends, made their way back to the Dorm, where they rested well.

The next day was a lot harder than the weeks spent in the wasteland; he was buzzing with energy from the moment he woke up in bed with Enide next to him. He started with a quick hike to not annoy his friends, and then, when he returned, ran into Colin. His friend was rather enthused about a 'tremendous magical breakthrough,' which made Erec happy for him. Though Erec had missed the snobby company of the duke's son, Colin had been able to make new achievements here that he wouldn't have been able to otherwise.

Erec got Garin to train with him and then pushed himself further, or at least until he could head to bed without bouncing off the walls.

And then, thankfully, he’d arrived at the day before the tournament after a not-so-restful night. It started like a regular day. Breakfast with all of his friends in the hall, though the atmosphere reflected the reality of the situation. People were gossiping openly about who was competing and who wasn’t. They talked about the outsiders and how exciting it would be. Things that only got Erec more charged up.

He felt such a flare of fire in his stomach that he scarcely touched his food.

Eventually, a Commander Knight arrived. They ordered all competitors to line up and follow them to the tournament ground themselves, and Erec rushed to comply with his friends. In a blur, they left the Academy and cut through the surrounding lands, nearing closer and closer to the Tournament village—and then to the tournament grounds themselves, which were swarming with people.

There were more people than Erec had ever seen in his entire life. Normally dispersed throughout the caverns, gargantuan groupings like this were rare You could see big events, sure, but nothing on this scale. It's as if half of the caverns, along with all of their guests, had turned out from below. Which, over the last couple of weeks of hunting, had increased even further. Amounting to a veritable horde of people.

The Knight Commander forced people aside to make room for the Initiates to cut through. He often had to shout to get people to listen, and for his efforts, he received some swearing and rude gestures from the people who thought they were simply budging their place in the lines for admittance.

Among the swarm of people, Erec noted the presence of quite a few crowds of red priests, chanting loudly in protest, condemning the tournament and the crown.

“This is a den of sin!” They shouted, “Heretics! Cindrus first!” They screamed as Erec and the rest of the Knights passed by, and they weren’t alone either. Around the priests, nobles and commoners had gathered in quite a number. Knights were moving to intervene and put themselves between the protesters and the crowds trying to make their way to the arena. Trying to prevent any fights from breaking out.

They’ve gotten bolder. Erec thought, recalling the smaller protests down in the caverns below. It was as if they were trying to anger the King and spur him into action, since this kind of public protest before their guests was spitting in the face of the monarchy.

Still, Erec couldn’t get the image of those deep red robes and the fires they held—nor could he shake the feeling that as he walked by in his Armor, those priests were tracking him with keen interest.

He felt the tension but shrugged his shoulders. This was always going to be the case. The church was moving to counteract the Crown, seeing that it had gained too much influence with its outside connections. The two were a balancing act in the Kingdom, both having power and influence, so this kind of clash, as the Crown pressed forward, was inevitable.

Through some effort, the Commander Knight leading the group of initiates managed to force their way through the crowds and make their way to the grounds themselves. They were not like Erec remembered when he'd met Sir Matt so long ago. The Kingdom’s workers had erected a massive coliseum with stands that extended into the sky on every side, surrounding a vast field in the middle. The field was green and lush with grass, cut short so the spectators could see the competitors. Not completely flat, though, with a mound of rocks in the middle.

To think so much work had been done in so little time… There was no doubt that magic was involved, along with time and effort from hundreds of people. Whose time, blood, sweat, and tears had poured into and facilitated this incredible feat. Erec took it in with appreciation. A fitting place for him to fight and prove his worth before the eyes of thousands. He felt a flush of hot pride.

Even as he and hundreds of others spilled into the field, as many as there were competing, swelling to the number of thousands. If thousands were competing, then the stands filled with numbers that easily dwarfed that. It was hard to estimate with the sheer number of faces gazing down on them.

Erec heard the roar of the crowd. He felt the rush of their power and cheering as he and the rest of the competitors lined up. Everyone from every bracket was represented. All of the people who would be participating in the tournament were lined up and displayed—a veritable congress of competitors. More and more filtered in until, for a good fifteen minutes, he saw no one else enter the field.

Only then did the crowd, whose stands were still filling, quiet down.

A massive illusion appeared above the field, likely conjured by Grandmaster Towers. As Erec craned his head to look up, he could see what was on display… A view of the competitors, only closer and expanded, so the people in the furthest stands could see. Cheers came and went as it panned through the competitors; the crowd had already seen some of their favorites.

Then a loud voice broke out: "Welcome to the opening ceremony of the first Grand Wasteland Tournament, hosted by the Kingdom of Cindrus. We are pleased to see so many have made the journey of the vast wastelands, both far and wide, to participate together in this, a declaration of our unification as humanity, and extension of our desired friendship for others within the wasteland. Our ancestors once held tournaments of this nature. A dedication to the progress of man and our cooperation. And so, we do honor that tradition.”

Music swelled in—the anthem of the Kingdom. Erec stood proud, his face beaming as he gazed over so many.

Tournaments were an ancient tradition, and the Kingdom had held its own on occasion… But this one, with such a grand gathering… He wondered if the world had seen anything like it since before the holy fire had seared everything. Truly, they’d come far.

The next bits weren’t quite as interesting. The announcer went over the details of the tournament: the first round would be a team competition. Teams would be selected from the brackets and face off against one another; the winning team would advance to the next round. Select competitors who lost were given the opportunity to advance based on their contributions to the next round.

It was a ‘capture the flag’ match style, only with violence, spells, and combat. Things were to be kept non-lethal, with healers among the bystanders and Grandmasters ready to intercede if needed.

“From there, a select number of games will be played, cutting down the competitors in each bracket, until we have a number of 16, from which there will be duels. The tournament winner will advance through the individual duels and be given a special reward.” The announcer continued, leaving the details of the subsequent games secret, for now.

There were roars of approval, accompanied by more music. The view above once more ran over the competitors, zooming in on some of the more prestigious among them. Once, it stopped on Erec, and he got a roar from the crowd too… It appeared he was one of the favorites to win, though, as he looked at Soren not far away, and Forrest, who had abilities he didn’t know—Even to Jack in his fatigues, who sat with a straight back and a bored expression… He wasn’t so sure.

Regardless, he had a smile on his face the entire time he sat before that crowd, soaking in the energy.

There were more cheers and screaming from the crowd. Approval for the tournament conditions. Anticipation of seeing their favorite people fight. The sheer ability to see those in front of them fighting. It was going to be a good competition. And Erec was eager to see just who his team would be going into the first round. Even more eager to see who they would be paired against.