Knights Apocalyptica
Chapter 244: Close But No Cigar

Find that which you can.

Make notes of it.

Then we’ll take it to President Rosewall for final say.

The more data we can provide, the better. Strengths. Weaknesses. Are they to be our enemies, or a potential ally? Those are the questions we must provide data to answer. With such a rare opportunity, we must treat it with the appropriate gravity it deserves.

-Ranger-Captain Robins, Quick Order For Tournament Reconnaissance (3rd Era, 308)

With the next competition a couple of days later, Erec had little to do but sit in the Academy and walk the grounds. He also spent time with Enide and his friends, but only when they were actually in the Academy. They still frequently traveled to the tournament to see the other brackets, which was the most disappointing part of this whole thing to Erec.

He felt like it was a punishment. Logically, it wasn’t. But inside, he felt like his suffering and being locked away here and removed from the most exciting fights was hell.

His friends tried not to talk too much about it, knowing that he was keeping a low profile after the attack on his life, and Enide stayed with him out of solidarity.

That last bit helped a lot, though. Each night when he lay his head down, he couldn't help but imagine the sorts of powers on display as the older competitors gave it their all in the capture the flag competition, and the future fights he'd be missing out on.

Although Boldwick had only strongly suggested he stay in the Academy, Erec obeyed. If he were to go out, trouble would follow. Though he didn’t feel fear at the trouble, he understood that if it occurred, it could rapidly spiral far out of control. Boldwick's warning to stay put and secure in the academy was not only for preventing an abrupt war but also for his own personal safety.

Although he thought himself strong, he had to acknowledge that people who had trained for much longer than he had had quite a bit more strength than he did.

Erec held no illusion that he could beat Boldwick in a fight if the two were to go against each other, even tapping into his mantle. The simple truth was that he didn't have the training, combat experience, or the unknown quantity of the upper limit of his power. He wasn't sure just how far it went, although the training he'd done lately had enhanced his body, so theoretically he should be able to draw his mantle to new heights. But until tested all the way, how could he quantify that power?

The result was a series of days that Erec spent lazing about the Academy and moping—well, mostly doing his best to mope. A certain wild wind of a woman made that hard. It was hard to be sad for too long and rot in your room, depressed, when Enide came around with her big smile and demanded that they go on a walk.

Without that, Erec thought he would’ve lost his mind.

At her suggestion, they spent most of the day outside, strolling through the different sections of the Academy. Verdant Oak was still Erec's personal favorite, with all the natural life and all the bountiful gardens, with the canvas of beautiful flowers so intricately laid out across the grounds. Some of them were interlaid with carefully sculpted landscaping features such as running streams; it made for a wonderful and tranquil place to spend the mornings.

The others had their charms, though. The Azure Tower campus was, as its name suggested, a more refined and regal sort of place with vast libraries open to all, and towering architecture. However, despite its beautiful interior buildings, the exterior grounds were lacking. A simple, well-kept lawn towered over by one massive blue tower, which defined their Order.

His second favorite locale was the Crimson Lotus grounds, defined by the massive pond in the front that would be filled with thousands of red lotus flowers come spring. This area was the focal point of their grounds; everything around it was neat and concise—from buildings to bridges to chairs—making any point where one walked around the outside a spectacle and a place to sit and rest in quiet contemplation.

The last was Erec’s least favorite: The Order of the Silver Flames… There was nothing wrong with the concept. The architecture was beautiful and grandiose… But there were too many images of the Goddess and too many stuffy statues to make it comfortable. The artistic value and beauty displayed by people who had spent years painting reminded him of his early days as a youth, when they used to go to Church. It had all been stained glass, swords, and silver fires…

Now, especially after what happened, it was a stark reminder of why he was locked up in the Academy in the first place.

Thankfully, Enide didn’t like it that much either. Opting not to head back after their first little look around.

Still, the days passed by, and he spent time in a weird flux of joy, envy, and anticipation as he counted down the hours and tried hard not to think about all the fun everyone else was having until, eventually, the day finally arrived.

Boldwick collected him early, along with other initiates, to ensure their safety. But Erec knew it was because he wanted to prevent the priests from acting. Then, they marched together back towards the tournament. They cut through the village near the festival, seeing once again the overwhelming crowd as they began to line up for their seats in the stands. They also witnessed people wearing red protesting in front of the church.

More than last time. Erec noted as they cut through the crowds and were admitted to the field itself. It had been transformed. A large square had been erected in the middle with wooden fence posts outlining a boundary, and in the interior, it was just a big patch of dust and stone, but it had a certain primal feeling. It was an outline, a boundary… But as he walked past the fence, he noted that glyphs were carved into the wood, reinforcing them and making some barrier.

Erec looked away from the arena itself and to the competitors. Only about half of them had been left from the opening ceremony. But a little more than that. Some had been saved by judges, including Garin. His use of the birds had been an almost winning tactic, and had earned him a pass, even though the rest of his team had been eliminated… Though his friend hadn’t seemed very confident in his chances to move forward in the next couple of rounds.

Garin sat next to him, now his eyes filled with concern. “This can’t be one-on-one, right? Too many people still.”

“Worried?” Colin asked, sniffing the air and staring at the filling stands. His eyes spotted Soren not far away, and he scowled. “There’s the silver-spoon, who rode our coattails to this round.”

Erec disagreed with that, but let him have his thoughts. For his part, Erec kept glancing at the rest of the contenders to see who was left.

Unfortunately, the woman with steely skin hadn't made the cut. He still saw Forrest not far away—the big Magi was watching with his arms crossed—and he still saw that man who had faced him off in the last contest of wrestling, the one who had used the cheers from the crowds to apparently get stronger, giving Erec a run for his money.

I’d like to fight him again. Erec thought. He kicked the dirt and then turned his attention back forward to the dirt patch. Now it was mostly a waiting game. People flooded in from above, filling the stands with tens of thousands of faces.

It felt ages before the announcer finally spoke.

"Welcome back to the rising star bracket. Today, our game will be special, a grand tradition dating back to the old world that has been a long-standing favorite of our Kingdom. The Melee. This has a historical background, stemming from the 2nd Era. By all accounts, Knights of the older age used to compete in Melee just like this—and we thought it was a fitting way to reduce our numbers and carry the tournament further. Twenty-five competitors will enter the ring laid out before you. They will strive to down and deal as much damage as possible to their competitors, as only five knights will move forward out of them."

There were loud cheers from the crowd, a drowning noise that made it hard to even think as they screamed and invaded the air with pure sound. [Muting outside noise to prevent hearing damage.] VAL helpfully informed, and then suddenly the painful screaming disappeared into more of a dull roar.

“Thanks,” Erec said, and shook his head.

“The rules are simple,” the announcer said. "Lethal force will not be tolerated. We understand this is a dangerous game, and if an intervention is required to prevent loss of life, we will not hesitate to intercede. You will be pulled from the tournament if it gets to that point. If you hit the ground and cannot get back up in three seconds, you are disqualified, and that is a point to the victor who took you down. Half points will be awarded for assists, and the reigning five, based on combat prowess, will be picked. The more points you get, the better you'll look before the judges."

With that, the Announcer called out certain competitors, building hype in the crowd as the logistics on the ground were sorted through. This many people took many coordinating Knights to facilitate… Soon, Erec was moved around and split from his friends, and then, oddly, put into the first group ushered into the ring.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

There was the dull roaring again as he stepped past the fence and moved to the outskirts of the ring. He yanked the axe off his back as his blood began to flow and heat. His Armor was in perfect condition, as the last three days offered plenty of time for repairs…

He took in his competition.

No red robes. No guys in chains. Oddly, Erec felt disappointed until he spotted someone else he’d been looking forward to fighting.

Forrest. The Magi was entering with him, and keeping an eye on him, striding as far as he could from Erec in the Melee. Erec tilted his head, puzzled by the behavior, and forced himself to tear his eyes from the man to check out the rest… Knights, Magi—people from other outside groups… No one intrigued him quite as much as the fact that he was in here with Forrest.

That began to get his blood pumping. He smiled under his helmet, the crowd’s roaring only pumping him up further as he took his position. The people around him looked nervous, and the Knights in the ring kept looking his way. But Erec was already sold. He’d picked his fight for this match, wanting to make the most of the last few days stuck in the Academy and get into a fight worth all the time spent.

But Forrest never even looked at him, past the start.

It started to piss Erec off. He'd been looking forward to this for so long, and to think the guy he wanted to go up against and had been warned of was now ignoring his very presence was absurd. They were here to have a glorious fight, and this was the time and place. It’d finally come.

Look at me. Erec’s fist clenched, Fury burning brighter.

He almost missed it when the match was called.

[Go.] VAL buzzed as he hesitated a second.

That was all Erec needed. With his blood like lava under his skin, Erec jumped into action, pushing across the ground to force the issue with Forrest. Dust kicked up in a storm as he moved forward. He had four minutes and intended to make the most of them. A minute in a battle was a lifetime.

Yet, someone got in his way. Another Knight in Armor. Not that of an Initiate, but a customized modular plate of a knight-errant. The guy got right in his way and challenged him. "Greetings, Sir Erec," he called, "I’ve been eager to test you for myself since I’ve heard the rumors—“

“Move!” Erec yelled and swung forward with his axe. The guy was quick enough to block it with his steel shield, but the first hit sent him steps back; then he rebounded and went for a stab that was broadcast clear as day due to the Q.A.P.

Erec’s body moved naturally, dodging the blow, and once more responding with another axe swing, this time not shying from his power as he shoved more into the hit, crashing the side of his dulled axe against the guy’s side, cracking into his Armor and denting the plate with a massive clang. The Knight stumbled backward, gasping as he’d hit his chest rather hard. Erec followed up with another swing right in the same spot, sending the man flying a few feet to the right.

He bounced once, twice… Then got back up to his feet.

Really? Erec's fury simmered more, his eyes locking on the foe who refused to yield.

They began to chant, rushing through a quick phrase, activating a quick prayer. Golden chains appeared around Erec’s legs, a basic binding that shimmered as Erec pressed against it, slowing him but not stopping him like the man would wish.

“You’re really doing this?” Erec growled, boiling over as he glanced at Forrest. The man had thrown a barrier around him and another Knight, and was going in for the fight.

Someone had stolen Erec’s opponent.

“Give up already,” Erec said, hating coloring his tone as he swung his full attention to the mosquito in the steel plate that was stalling him.

"Quit looking over there. I am your fight!" the man responded as he darted forward, and Erec waited for the attack. Not much of a choice with the bindings on his feet. He could see his enemies’ line of movement. It was a simple attack, jabbing his sword straight towards Erec's helmet—no doubt to try to knock him out with a concussion, or ruin his helmet to open a weak spot. But it was too easy. Erec didn’t need to move at all to duck.

Leaving the man right in grabbing distance. Erec grabbed him with his right hand, twisted him, and then, while pulling at his muscles with the hot fire of strength running through them, shoved the man to the ground. A move picked up from the wrestling tournament.

The man scrambled for a second under him, trying to free himself, but Erec pushed down with his might, his bicep straining as he held down a man wearing hundreds of pounds of steel. There was a struggle, but he was an incomparable force, shoving his enemy to the ground. Waiting.

One. Two. Three.

“Sir Yuleson of House Dremis has been eliminated!” The announcer’s voice called.

Only then did Erec let up on his grip, seeing the Knight tour around on the ground and begin to curse him out.

Erec ignored him and returned to the wider battlefield. It was in sheer chaos.

Magic flew around, slamming into people, occasionally missing its mark and hitting a barrier that was the fence. People were screaming, blades swinging. Sweat, chaos, and confusion. Like an enchanting fairytale, Erec’s eyes went for his nearest target and then stopped himself.

Forrest. A voice called in his head. The one most worthy of a fight. Erec spotted him; he’d somehow put even more distance between them than before, and already defeated his first foe.

Erec cursed at his luck and then was hit by pangs of metal darts smashing into his Armor, denting it and drawing a quick alert from VAL. He swung his gaze to whoever dared to attack.

Two Magi?

One was forming the steel from the ground with a conversion glyph, and the second was then using a second glyph to swing the balls around and send them at him, and they were… Working as a team? Was that even allowed? More metal barraged Erec, making his anger flare even further. They thought they could take him down? “Bring it!” Erec roared, his voice drawing glances from some of the nearby fights. The mages seemed to shake, but doubled down, flinging more useless crap his way.

Erec tapped Fury further and sprang out with a burst of speed. A single pulse of his muscle sent him flying through the air at the two, his axe dragging behind him and leaving a large line drawn in the sand as he brought it in a lazy upward swing.

The first Magi had no chance—catching him in the jaw and launching him into the air; the body soared above as Erec twisted his axe to finish off the second Magi, but he met a barrier, pressing against it as a thin blue sphere surrounded the one who’d been making the metal balls to begin with.

It cracked under the pressure, and he felt a hammer slam into his side as an uninvolved Knight decided to step in and involve himself in others’ business.

Erec lost it for a moment, giving in to the burning heat. He grabbed the man’s hammer and yanked him in, wrapping a hand around the Knight’s helmet as anger rampaged through him. It felt as light as a feather as he suddenly manipulated the Armor of the other Knight and then smashed his head repeatedly into the barrier of the Magi.

Again, and again—cracking away as more rippled appeared in the light blue shield, until eventually, it shattered completely.

The Knight he'd used as a battering ram collapsed onto the ground, his helmet dented and the man too stunned from having his head used as a weapon to get up. Dimly Erec heard the announcer call for two more disqualifications, the Magi he’d sent soaring, and the Knight he’d beat into unconsciousness… And then, ten seconds later, he heard another as he shoved the last Magi’s face into the ground.

There wasn’t a second to breathe, though, as he turned and faced another man. This one in fatigues… The battlefield had slimmed as time had passed too quickly, but this guy was on another level, shadows drifting in wisps of smoke from his hands. He sent a punch Erec’s way, and Erec tested it, wanting to see what he was made of.

The fist phased through his Armor and hit his chest, sending Erec reeling.

An axe to the chest sent this guy reeling, too… But he kept to his feet and used a superior maneuverability to dart in and try to give cheap shots. Retreating before Erec could fully bring his weapon to bear. Working with a speed that called more and more Fury from Erec, turning him into a raging inferno as the two went back and forth. Pissing him off.

Just as the fight started to get good, and Erec was lurching towards taking the man down with another conclusive hit…

“Time is up. Please lower your weapons and leave the field.”

Erec barely stopped his swing, with some aid from VAL as the servos resisted his muscles pulsing against him. His head swam with the chaos, his breathing was out of control, and even now, he still wanted to crush the shadowy man in front of him.

[Calm.]

Calm? Erec looked over the battlefield and found Forrest… Who was just as far from him as the start? Now the Magi was looking his way, with a smile on his face.

“Good fight.” Erec heard, and that snapped him back to the current moment. He looked at the shadowy man who'd almost tasted his axe for good until the announcer ended things too early. Surely it hadn’t been three minutes?

He stared at him. Feeling the raging inferno inside. The smile faded off the guy’s face as he stepped back, sensing something was off. All of the chaos and the fighting… The anger of his prey avoiding him the entire time… Calm. Erec repeated, and then slowly lowered his axe.

“Thank you for the battle.” He said between clenched teeth, still trying to steady his heart. It had been a good fight. Maybe not the one he was looking for, but a good one nonetheless. He took the guy in more closely, the distinctive tattoos on his face, like roses on a vine. It could be that they would meet again in the future.

"The judges will collect the data and then announce those who are moving on to the next competition," the announcer said. “Please make your way off the field. It must be prepared for the next match.” Erec took in the landscape around them… Devastation was a simple way of putting it: unconscious competitors, large holes in the ground, and a large pillar of ice in the middle of the field. The chaos of a twenty-five-person free-for-all was a sight to behold.

As logic began returning to his head, Erec heeded the announcer's commands and made to leave the field, all the while glaring at Forest.

He understood now, as the Fury receded from his mind. Forrest was wary of him and had wanted to win. The simplest way to do that was to keep the distance and focus on his own fights. It was aggravating, but nonetheless, Erec began to understand. Next time, though, he would have nowhere to run. Not if it were a duel.

As he watched the next couple of matches, he did so with a critical eye, commenting on what was happening with both Garin and Colin, though part of him was still replaying his fights, his head in the past… That was until a messenger arrived, crossing the tournament grounds to present him with a letter from the Grandmaster himself.

Within it, an Order to immediately present himself before Grandmaster Oak as soon as the tournament concluded for the day.

What did I do? Erec thought, eyes going wide. Wondering if he’d gone too hard in the battle? Were they going to disqualify him for the rest of the tourney?