Reborn with a Necromancer System
Chapter 169: The Next Preliminary Matches

Chapter 169: The Next Preliminary Matches

Kai pushed himself upright on the healer’s cot, the thin sheet falling from his chest.

He stretched his limbs slowly. Nothing cracked, but his muscles ached with a dull throb. Still, he flexed his previously broken hand into a fist, testing it.

No sharp twinges. No numbness.

"Mostly healed..." he murmured, examining the bruising where the shield had crushed his fingers.

Faded.

Faint.

His life essence had been spent well.

He stood and grabbed his shirt, slinging it over his shoulder before tugging it on one-handed.

But even if he could heal himself, his body needed to rebuild its blood supply on its own.

’I wonder if I could become a vampire or something...?’ he thought, darkly amused. ’No. Burning in the sun or losing control of myself doesn’t sound fun. Also, blood. That’s just gross.’

Wandering the arena’s back corridors, he tried to retrace the path the mages had brought him down, but somewhere along the way, he took a wrong turn. The place was a labyrinth of stone archways, narrow stairwells, flickering torches, and echoing footsteps, half-arena, half-crypt.

Rounding a corner, he passed a small alcove carved into the wall. A boy was sitting on a curved stone bench, arms folded, eyes closed. His presence was still. Intentional.

The same boy from before.

The one Kai had sat next to when scouting the other participants. The boy with the quiet answers and the eerie stillness.

The boy’s voice came before his eyes even opened.

"Oh. It’s you."

Kai slowed.

"Yeah. I, uh... got turned around. Which way is it to the spectator seats?"

The boy raised one hand lazily and pointed down the hallway, back the way Kai had come.

"...Right. Thanks."

Kai didn’t immediately leave. His gaze drifted to the bench, then the boy’s face.

"Did you fight yet?"

"Yeah," the boy said. No inflection. No pride. "I won."

Kai blinked. "Oh. Congrats. Guess I missed it."

"Your fight was good as well," the boy said with the same clinical tone. "You have good control."

Kai’s brows rose slightly. "Thanks?"

"Control means nothing if you get injured like that," the boy added, opening his eyes for the first time. They were an unsettling shade of pale grey. "But you look fine now. Which means you wasted something important to look like that. I’d advise against doing that."

Kai scratched the back of his head.

"Thanks for the tip?"

The boy closed his eyes again, dismissing the conversation as quickly as he’d started it.

"Whatever. I’m sure I’ll see you in the arena. The name’s Grim, by the way."

Kai finally turned to go, deciding that conversation with whatever the hell Grim was wasn’t likely to become comfortable.

He activated his mana sight.

Threads of glowing pressure, lines of life and mana, funneled upward and outward, leading him back to the main coliseum stands.

He followed them.

As he climbed the final flight of stone steps, he heard the rhythmic cheers of the crowd swelling. The wind hit him, and then the full noise and colour of the arena returned like a crashing wave.

Two fighters were already locked in a brutal exchange. One of them, a man cloaked in a swirling red scarf with jagged tattoos on his exposed arms, was Tarnil.

Kai pulled out his folded matchup sheet.

’Seventh fight. Kessh versus Tarnil. I missed five matches.’

He scanned the list again.

’...That means I really did miss Grim’s match. Dammit. I really wanted to see how he fights. Redford too. Ranking up in the League isn’t that important, but it would probably help in the future.’

He didn’t have time to sulk.

Not when a blur of blonde hair leapt toward him.

"Kai!"

Vepice wrapped him in a hug before he could say a word, arms wrapping tightly around his midsection, though thankfully not too tightly.

"Alex... Remember?"

"Yeah, I know... You’re okay now?" she asked softly, leaning back and brushing his hair from his face.

There was no surprise in her tone. No awe at his recovery.

Only relief. Pure, quiet, unshaken.

"Yeah," Kai said, offering her a faint smile. "As long as I don’t die, I can recover."

She frowned lightly but nodded. Her hands rested just above his ribs, careful. A flicker of guilt crossed her face.

"I wanted to jump in when he hit you like that," she muttered. "I know I couldn’t. I know you’d hate that. But it hurt watching you like that."

"I would’ve hated it," Kai agreed, ruffling her hair gently. "But I get it. I’d feel the same way if it were you down there."

Her frown melted into something smaller. Softer.

"You still shouldn’t be so reckless."

Kai gave a weak chuckle. "What’s a tournament without a little bloodshed?"

"You’re not allowed to bleed unless I say so," she said, half-joking.

"Noted." He offered her a half-hearted salute.

She smiled, looping her arm with his and pulling him gently toward their seats.

They sat, shoulder to shoulder, and watched the rest of the match unfold in silence.

The announcer’s voice boomed overhead, but Kai barely listened. His eyes were locked on the man in red.

Tarnil the Red.

Keshh came in confidently, iron armour, paired short blades, and a hood draped over one eye. She moved with precision, the steps of a trained duellist.

Tarnil didn’t move at all.

The match began.

Keshh struck first. Her blades arced toward Tarnil’s sides in a cross-slash meant to bait and punish a dodge.

Tarnil didn’t dodge.

He raised a hand.

And both blades liquefied in mid-air, metal running down like molten wax, steaming as it hit the stone.

Keshh staggered backward, but before she could retreat, her chestplate began to hiss, then bubble. The iron melted away, smoking and dripping onto the ground.

Tarnil took a single step forward, his hands glowing a muted, infernal red.

Keshh fell to their knees, armour half-dissolved.

"I forfeit!" they yelled, panicked.

Tarnil said nothing. He simply turned around and walked off, untouched, the hem of his red cloak flicking behind him like a slow-moving flame.

Kai let out a slow breath.

"...Remind me never to piss that guy off."

Vepice nodded. "Even I felt that heat from here."

Next came a match that barely lasted long enough for the crowd to cheer.

Cyrus Vale versus Helka.

Helka was built like a tower. Armoured shoulders, a halberd half her height, and confidence radiating with each step.

Cyrus, by contrast, looked like a noble’s duelling tutor.

He wore a tight jacket, polished boots, and a thin silver rapier at his hip. His sandy hair was tied back into a ponytail, and a smirk played at his lips.

They met in the centre.

The signal to fight sounded.

And then Cyrus vanished.

No. He definitely moved. Faster than the eye could follow. Wind magic whipped the air into jagged streams.

Kai activated mana sight just to keep up.

Twelve strikes. Maybe more. One after the other, a dancing sequence of precise thrusts that carved tiny holes through Helka’s breastplate, arms, and thigh guards.

Helka stood for half a second longer, then fell to her knees, bleeding from a dozen narrow punctures.

Cyrus flicked his rapier. The blood slid from the blade, and he walked off with the same smirk he’d arrived with.

"Could I even block those strikes?" Kai asked himself while holding his chin.

Vepice looked at him, worried.

---

Then came the most bizarre match so far.

Fenric, cloaked in colourful robes, barefoot, not a single weapon on him.

Raenys, dual-wielding curved scimitars and dressed in glinting scale armour, wasted no time rushing the moment the match started.

Kai narrowed his eyes.

Then Fenric lifted his hand.

Not even a spell. Just a punch.

The air warped around his fist, and with a sudden blast of pressure, Raenys’s body crumpled mid-run.

His consciousness was snuffed like a candle.

No blood. No mess. Just a fallen fighter.

Fenric bowed once to the crowd and exited, not a word spoken.

He felt a chill despite the heat of the crowd.

"Would my barriers hold up against whatever that was? That wasn’t magic."

---

The Volrik vs Mira fight was next.

Volrik was fast. Too fast. Even faster than Cyrus.

"It would be interesting to see those two fight each other."

His lightning-infused movements created shockwaves with each step. His fists crackled as he zipped around the ring.

But Mira?

Mira was stone.

She didn’t flinch when he landed a glancing blow. She didn’t even blink when he circled behind her.

He struck once, twice, and on the third try, she caught his wrist mid-motion.

Then she headbutted him.

Kai winced as Volrik staggered.

Before he could blink again, both of his arms were behind his back, Mira twisting them like braided ropes.

Volrik yelped.

"I forfeit! I forfeit!"

Mira calmly released him and walked away, not even glancing back.

"...Yikes," Kai muttered. "Talk about a bad matchup."

---

The remaining matches blurred together.

Fighters clashed with swords, spells, shields, fists. Some were slow and calculated; others ended in a single lucky blow. Most were battles of attrition, grueling struggles where both sides took blow after blow until someone fell from exhaustion or the pain became too much to bear.

Still, Kai took notes in his mind.

Movement styles. Mana density. Spellcasting tells.

Each of them could be an opponent tomorrow.

At last, the final round ended, and the familiar magical boom of the announcer’s voice rippled across the arena.

"And that concludes the first day of the Arena of Kings tournament, ladies and gentlemen!" the voice declared, bright and thunderous. "Sixteen champions remain, and tomorrow, they’ll clash in matches twice as intense!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, flags waved, food and drink spilled from the stands.

"So tell your friends, your neighbours, your favourite mercenaries and return tomorrow for the next round of combat! Will Alex Trunsdale rise even higher? Will Tarnil the Red burn the competition away? Will Grim destroy another opponent without moving a muscle? How will our other fighters fare? You’ll find out... only in the Arena of Kings!"

Kai exhaled slowly and leaned back in his seat.

"Sixteen left," he whispered.

"You’re one of them," Vepice said proudly, her eyes shining in the late sun.

He gave her a tired smile. "Yeah. Somehow. I don’t know how I’d be able to fight many of the winners from today."

She reached over and took his hand.

"Let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry."

Kai laughed. She was trying to distract him.

"Of course. Let’s get something nice to celebrate my win."

"I want to try a dessert!"

"Maybe after we eat some actual food."

"You promise?"

"I promise."