Heather grunted, sparks flying out of her blade as she parried an enemy's attack. "Sel! Take the left!" she yelled. "Trink, the right!"

I ducked under a swinging battle scythe, leaping out of the path of its spiked tail. The sound of chains clinking was sharp in my ears, the adventurer wielding them lunging at me once more. "Got my hands tied here for a bit!" I yelled back. "Rev?"

The creature spiria cursed audibly, tumbling backwards as a spear slammed into the spot on the ground where her feet had just been. For the most part, she was the most agile out of all of them, better than Arzo, for sure.

In speaking of him, the buff guy from the opposite party was hammering the hell out of the poor kid. Next to the wall of muscle, Arzo looked like he might be snapped like a twig. He's the one who needed help the most.

I gritted my teeth and swung my sword at the chain-scythe-spiked-ball combo. The wielder—a woman with the right side of her head shaved clean and the rest of her chin-length hair parted to one side—smirked as she threw the scythe end of her weapon. The sharp edge of the blade clanged against the chains, and while I expected it to shatter them, the scythe's pointed tip whizzed from the left. I stepped back just in time for the chain to wrap around my sword.

With a powerful yank, my weapon slid from my grip before clattering to the ground. I cursed, diving under the swing of the spiked ball, calling my sword to me. It flew with ease, responding to the traces of my magic, and brought it parallel to my shoulders just as the scythe's hook came down.

Vibrations danced on my arms and shoulder. The woman grunted, digging her weapon against my blade. Metal squeaked and scritched. I clenched my jaw, grunting with the effort to push back against the woman's force. If the scythe so much as glazed past the edge of my blade, it would pierce my chest. I needed to get out of this chokehold.

The smell of freshly-upturned dirt was heavy in my nose, my backbone grinding against the hard rockbed. All around us, various screams of aggression, agitated cheers, and bored jeers rang from the crowd gathered today. Against the bright morning sun shining through the roofless colosseum, they were nothing but dots of color and noise.

"Yield," the woman growled through her own gritted teeth. I hoped I had given her a hard time reaching this point. Still, it's not enough.

I smiled. "No."

Before she could process what I just said, I hooked my leg in the most awkward position ever, knocking against the woman's ankle. If it were just my regular boots, it wouldn't have hurt. But in my armor, my ankle guard slammed against hers, eliciting a distinct ring. That's enough to send her looking back to my legs, at what I was trying to do.

I shoved forward with my blade, catching her trying to balance herself with her disturbed ankle and keep pushing against me. She flailed, attempting to regain her balance. I withdrew my sword back into my inventory, lashed out empty-handed, and closed my fingers around the chain. With a yank, I tore it from her grip, sending her straight into my waiting fist.

WIthout waiting for her to recover, I hooked the scythe behind her neck and let the spiked ball dangle in the air between me and her face. "Yield," I let the spiked ball swing gently through the chain it's attached to. "Or this will fly to your face. Would it hurt?"

The woman didn't bother hiding the fear dancing in her eyes. "I yield," she said. When I didn't move, she turned up her voice. "I yield!"

I pushed off her, summoning my sword back into the light. Arzo had managed to back the adventurer to a wall, but was now weaponless. Heather and Revery had teamed up to deal with the enemy team's leader—a spiria with way too many rings on her hands and necklaces bouncing against her chest. Even without a weapon, she was able to keep up with Heather's frontal blows and Revery's sneaky creature summonings.

Trink seemed to have found his footing and was trading blows with the second-in-command like the true and honorable swordsman he was. They appeared to have been chatting as well. Huh.

The one who needed the most help right now was Arzo. He needed to do his job as a mage, but he couldn't do that if he ended up with a broken jaw. I took a deep breath and laid a hand on the flat edge of my sword. It's time for another makeover. "Refine," I chanted.

Light danced from my fingertips before wrapping my blade from guard to tip. My MP suffered the brunt and I didn't need to look into my menu screen to know that much. Just the heaviness and tightness coiling in my limbs and head should be enough of a signal. I needed to finish this quickly, with this sword that wouldn't break and wouldn't ever dull.

The buff guy, despite having his back turned to me, threw Arzo aside in order to cross his arms to meet my blow. My sword slammed into bare skin but it was like hitting rock. What the—

He swung his arms open, driving me backwards just with the force of the wind he generated. Oh, one of those types. This was going to be tough.

"Arz, a little boost?" I called, leaping back as the man's closed fist slammed into the rocky floor where I had just been. When the dust cleared, distinct cracks webbed from the crevice formed by his attack. Dear God.

"On it!" came Arzo's breathy and frantic answer. His mutterings faded in my head as I rolled, slashed, and dodged against the man's relentless attacks. He's using my own principles against me. I didn't appreciate it.

"Sel, on your left!" Heather called. A shadow zipped towards me as the jewelry woman flashed into my periphery. I jumped back, just as the man's swinging fist connected to my gut. Pain exploded in my chest as the air was knocked out of my lungs and a strange force enveloped my body. Time slowed, only to speed up as it dragged me backwards.

I was flying, with my hands not in the controls.

Rock and perhaps some bones in my spine cracked as I slammed against the arena's wall. Up above, the audience gasped and began scampering up the higher tiers should the lower benches caved in and rained on me.

I coughed, something wet and thick coming out of my mouth. It wasn't saliva—that much I was sure of. I summoned my screen and scrolled through the list of skills. "Heal," I whispered, exerting a bit of what's left of my MP to at least allow me to walk and swing my sword to defend myself.

Slowly, as my bones and flesh fixed themselves, I edged out of the person-sized hole I punched through the wall. My gut swirled along with my head, my vision pocked with dark spots and blobs of color. Voices and a static noise rang in my ears, followed by the uncomfortable pike from up my nose and into my brain.

"Seline! Stop. Yield!" Heather's panicked voice was the first to register. I found three of them weaving in and out of the buff dude's space, looking like flies against his towering height. Revery's beasts—the bird and the vicious fox—dived and clawed at the man's eyes and feet. Nothing seemed to work. Trink was still stuck with the second-in-command.

I ground my teeth until my jaw hurt. "Arz, boost!" I yelled, raising my sword and charging into the fray just as the last of my discs slid back into place. "Move away. You too, Trink. Trust me!"

"What do you mean?" Heather asked just as Arzo's magic wrapped around my limbs, enhancing just about anything in my body. I leveled my sword, concentrating all of this extra energy into my blade. The buff dude, suddenly void of opponents, turned to me and lunged.

My blade connected with his closed fist just as I yelled, "Shockwave!"

Purple ate at everything I knew.

I gripped a cold bag of ice against my cheek, hissing at the sharp pain it shot to my face and neck should I poke it the slightest way. The air in the room was bleak, and judging from the deep frowns around me, it's connected to what I just did in the match.

"What? I just saved our asses back there," I studied the glowing polygons in my menu screen—invisible to everyone other than me.

As expected, draining and recharging my MP and HP for as much as possible increases my attributes, which was the in-world equivalent of leveling up. The farther the polygon's tips reach past the concentric circles, the higher my values become, making me able to store up more magic and physical energy. It's like exercise—the more one uses their muscles, the stronger it becomes.

Except, the way I used mine didn't sit well with some people. Well...most of them.

"This is just a match, Seline," Heather chided. "You almost killed Gartova."

Oh, so that's his name. My bad. I was out for the most part while they sorted the arena for the next volley so I didn't really get to see what happened to the receiving end of that unnecessarily strong starting spell. "But we won, right?" I shrugged. "That's his fault for charging at me and for punching me straight into a wall. That hurt, you know?"

That seemed to silence any and every argument they have against how I ended the match. "Are any of you hurt by my spell?" I asked. I had to make sure in case I needed to have something to feel guilty about later.

"We piled behind you to avoid most of it," Arzo answered, wincing as he rubbed against his ear. What's he got in there? "My hearing's all whack until now. Nothing I wouldn't live through, though. You're good."

"Really good," Trink bobbed his head, his features bearing an expression a normal dog back home wouldn't ever be able to replicate and one I didn't have a name for either. "Where did you learn such a destructive spell? They had to delay the next match at least an hour as they put things back in order in the arena."

I licked my parched lips. It's been a while since I had anything to drink. "You have Arzo's boost to thank for that. I was spent healing myself but I got the last push," I muttered my thanks when Heather rushed from her seat to get me a glass. "Which reminds me—thanks," I took hold of the cup Heather passed me and acknowledged her with a brief nod. I turned to the others, after I finished taking a sip from the cup, cold water running down my parched throat like wood against sandpaper. "We need to review our performance."

"We won. Isn't that enough?" Revery asked. I glanced at her, unsure of how to address her sentiment. Sometimes I really do wonder how they were able to survive as guild workers this long.

"Our defense is too lax," I said, noting how Arzo and Trink, both rearguards, seemingly have found their own ways to engage the enemy on their own. "Our offense is scattered. And we play to our strengths too early in the game."

Heather tapped a claw against the table, uprooting some splinters along the way. The poor fellow they're going to stick to later on would be experiencing hell. "The goal of the matches was to test our individual skills as they play out in a team battle," she said. "We just showed them what each of us got. Isn't that the point?"

I pursed my lips. "We need to stick together and not scatter off to our different worlds even if that's what our enemies liked," I said. Divide and conquer—it's only genius if it's not being used against you. "We don't have the might to go after stronger opponents as the match progresses, so we need to be coordinated with everything we do. Earlier, I wouldn't get hit by Gartova's fist had the jewelry woman not come between us, and Arzo wouldn't be stuck with his ears ringing had I managed to time my spell accordingly."

"In short, we need a new strategy," I said. "Especially when we're moving to a higher tier, where the adventurer parties we'll encounter would be of higher ranks. Worse, we might get partnered with Aevi's party if we ever survived to reach that tier."

Heather ran her forked tongue against her fangs. "I don't know, Seline," she scratched the side of her face, her claws making stringent schk-schk noises against the scales giving way to human flesh. "I mean, our offensive earlier was acceptable at best. Revery and I managed to work together to bring down the head. Trink even got as far as disarming the second-in-command, is that right?"

Trink crossed his arms and nodded. They're not getting my point. "What I'm saying is that we need to show that we're not predictable. We need a new strategy and a new...game play, so to speak," I said. "Otherwise, every party who watched this present match would be able to pick us apart in five seconds should they happen to face us next."

"There's little time for us to consider switching gears," Heather insisted. "Let's keep what we have and do our best."

"Like hell, we would!" I slammed my hand on the table, making everyone jump in shock. Revery's hand flew to her mouth to hide her small gasp. I sighed and pushed myself away from the table. "If you are so adamant on staying as you are, then be my guest."

I shot up, turned back to them, and pointed a finger into the vague direction of the table's center. "I won't be dragged down by half-wits who couldn't even defend themselves, much less learn how to," I threw my hands up. "If you want to rot in whatever hell you are in, don't include me in it."

"Where are you going?" Heather's pupils narrowed into slits. She wasn't joking. Not anymore.

Well, so was I. "None of your business," I yanked the door open, the hinges screaming like dying whales. "Good luck on your endeavors. I'll win this tournament on my own."

"What are you saying?" Arzo shot up and followed me into the corridor. I made sure to quicken my paces so he couldn't follow or torment me with his unsolicited wisdom. "Sel, you can't do everything alone!"

I knew that. But what were my options? Be a loser with people who would gladly stay that way or risk everything I have to get what I want. It's a no-brainer which one I was bound to choose. I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. I just needed to step foot into those places, like the olden times, and retrieve what I have lost and what I have once earned.

This tournament would be a stepping stone to a better future, and if I fail now, I would have never forgiven myself. That's why I needed to do this. There's no better time for this other than now.

It's time to unlock the rest of my special skills, and I knew how and where to start, Divines be damned.