The Wrong Hero Has Been Summoned
Chapter 15: Rules

Chapter 15: Rules

The news of Kross being beaten had spread like wildfire and by the time morning came, Luther was already famous among the newbies. Even some pros were begin to take note of his name, just in case.

"Wake up, we need to go. Contestants are being called to the lobby." Luna shook his body gently to wake him up.

"Ugh, man, why is time flying so fast, I barely slept." He said getting up yawning.

He dragged himself out of bed, still tired from yesterday’s events. He splashed some cold water on his face and grabbed his sword.

"How many people are down there?" he asked, buckling his weapon to his side.

"Almost everyone," Vess replied from the doorway. "The officials are getting ready to explain the tournament rules."

He followed the girls out of the room and down the stairs. The lobby was packed with fighters, all wearing the same black wristbands. Some looked nervous, others confident, and a few seemed dangerous just standing still.

"There he is," someone whispered as Luther entered. "The guy who flipped Kross."

He ignored the stares and whispers, finding a spot against the wall where he could see the front of the room.

A woman in official-looking clothes stood on a raised platform. She had short gray hair and the stern face of someone used to keeping order.

"Attention, contestants!" she called out, her voice cutting through the chatter. The room fell silent. "I am Official Mai, head coordinator for this year’s Summer Challenge."

Luther leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he listened carefully.

"The tournament will begin in a few hours with the qualifiers," she continued. "Out of the three hundred fighters registered, only sixteen would usually advance to the main even but this year will be different. Sixty of you will be allowed to move on."

Murmurs spread through the crowd. The odds were better than they expected.

"Qualification works as follows: Each fighter will face three random opponents. Win two out of three matches, and you advance. Lose two, and you’re out."

"Sounds simple enough," Luther muttered.

"Each match has a ten-minute time limit," she continued. "Victory is achieved by knockout, surrender, or pushing your opponent out of the ring. Killing is strictly forbidden during qualifiers."

"But allowed in the main tournament?" someone called out.

Her expression didn’t change. "In the main tournament, more severe injuries may occur, but deliberate killing will still result in disqualification. We’re looking for skilled fighters, not murderers."

She held up a small device. "Your matches will be randomly assigned through your wristbands. When it’s your turn to fight, the band will vibrate and display your arena number."

He glanced at his wristband with newfound interest.

"The qualifiers will run all day," she continued. "Be ready when called. Missing your match means automatic disqualification."

She paused, looking over the room. "Now for the rewards. Quarter-finalists receive five hundred gold coins each. Semi-finalists, one thousand. The runner-up gets five thousand, and the champion—" she paused for effect, "ten thousand gold coins, plus the opportunity to serve as a personal guard to one of our noble houses."

The crowd buzzed with excitement. That was serious money.

"Any questions?" She asked.

A tall woman near the front raised her hand. "Are we allowed to use magic or special abilities?"

"Yes, but no outside weapons or items beyond what you registered with," she answered. "Your own natural abilities and registered weapons are all you may use."

Another fighter spoke up. "What about the nobles? Will they be watching the qualifiers too?"

She nodded. "Many nobles attend both qualifiers and the main tournament. Some come to scout fighters for their personal guard. Others simply enjoy the entertainment." She checked her watch. "The arenas are open for practice. I suggest you use this time wisely."

With that, she stepped down from the platform, and the crowd began to disperse, many heading for the doors to check out the practice arenas.

Luther stayed where he was, thinking about what he’d just heard.

Luna approached him. "What do you think? Should we go see the arenas?"

He nodded slowly. "Might as well know what we’re dealing with."

The practice arenas were outside the building - five large circular platforms raised about two feet off the ground. Each one was about thirty feet across with white lines marking the boundaries. Fighters were already spread across them, testing their skills against one another.

"This is where the qualifiers will happen," Selene said, pointing to the platforms. "They’ll probably use all five arenas at once to get through everyone quickly."

He watched as two fighters sparred on the nearest platform. One used a spear, keeping the other at a distance with quick jabs. The other had daggers and was looking for a way to get close.

"Ten minutes isn’t much time," Vess noted, crossing her arms. "You’ll need to end fights quickly."

He looked at her smirking, "No need to worry, I have my ways."

As they walked around the arenas, he noticed people watching him. Word had definitely spread about his fight with Kross.

"There’s a board over there with the rules," Luna pointed to a large sign near the entrance. "Let’s check it out."

The board listed the same rules Official Mai had mentioned, plus a few more details:

- No killing or serious injuries

- No outside help during matches

- Stay within the ring boundaries

- Follow the referee’s orders immediately

- Fights end at knockout, surrender, ring-out, or time limit

"Simple enough," he said, scanning the list. "Nothing unexpected."

A group of fighters nearby were watching them - or more specifically, watching him.

"That’s him," one whispered not very quietly. "The one who took down Kross with one move."

He ignored them and turned to his companions. "I don’t need much practice. Let’s find something to eat and then come back when the qualifiers actually start."

Before they could leave, a young woman approached them. She looked about Luther’s age, with short black hair and quick, alert eyes. Unlike most fighters who carried obvious weapons, she wore simple training clothes with no visible arms.

"Luther right?" She asked.

He looked at her without any reaction. "I am. Do you need something?"

She smiled slightly. "I’m Becca. Saw what you did to Kross yesterday. Nice technique." She looked him up and down with an appraising gaze. "Want to have a quick practice match? No stakes, just checking each other out before the real thing starts."

Vess stepped forward. "He doesn’t need—"

"Sure," he interrupted. "Why not? Beats standing around."

Her smile widened. "Great. Arena three is open."

As they walked toward the empty arena, Luna whispered, "Be careful. She approached too confidently. She might be stronger than she looks."

"That’s what I’m counting on. Better to face someone good now than be surprised later."

They stepped onto the platform, taking positions at opposite ends. Other fighters noticed and began to gather around.

"Rules?" He asked, not drawing his sword yet.

"Same as the qualifiers," she replied, settling into a loose stance. "First to get knocked down, pushed out, or give up loses. No time limit though - just a quick match."

He nodded and took his own stance, still not drawing his weapon.

"You’re not using your sword?" She asked, eyebrow raised.

"I don’t see you as worthy of it," he said simply. "Ready when you are."

She wasn’t bothered by his words, she looked more, intrigued.

She moved forward with surprising speed, covering the distance between them in moments. Her first strike came as a quick jab toward his chest.

He stepped aside smoothly, watching her movements carefully. She was quick - quicker than Kross had been - and her technique showed actual training.

She followed with a series of strikes, testing his defenses from different angles. Each time, he evaded without blocking, his movements efficient and minimal.

The crowd around them grew as more fighters stopped to watch.

"He’s just dodging," someone commented. "Is he going to attack at all?"

Her attacks grew more intense, her hands moving in blurring combinations. For a moment, it seemed like one might connect - but he suddenly wasn’t where she expected him to be.

He shifted just slightly, causing her to overextend. In that brief moment of imbalance, he finally moved to counter. His hand shot out, not to strike but to gently push her shoulder, adding to her momentum and sending her stumbling toward the edge of the ring.

She recovered quickly, cartwheeling away from the boundary and back to a safe position. Her eyes were wider now, reassessing him.

"So that’s it huh, your whole fighting style revolves around using your opponents balance against them. how simple." She said, getting ready for another attack, "i expected more."

"Oh?" He said, a smile slowly tugging at the corners of his lips. "Come at me then, let me show you something else."