American Isekai - Chapter 121 (Patreon)
Content
After a day of training passed, the final schedule came out.
The first participants to go would be the warlocks and knights. They would proceed with their battles in a normal fashion, which each knight facing their respective warlock based on their placement. This would be occurring for positions 1-3.
Feiden managed to get approval so he would be facing the second place warlock Grace Jetsee. Tana would adobe facing the third place warlock. If they won their battles, they technically had the opportunity to face Umara. But we knew how that would end so they didn’t bother with the option.
After all that was said and done, I would be up for my fights.
I would be facing 6 people in total, and none of them would be my friends.
6 handpicked individuals would be my opponents, and no doubt all of them would be hellbent on either thrashing me or killing me. Thankfully, none of them could match my friends. After all, they weren’t on the leaderboard.
Ponteck was still my biggest concern, especially now since I would be fighting him last after several other battles that would no doubt wear me down a bit.
Well, that was exactly why I was doubling down. Nothing less than my full effort would be required if I wanted a chance to win. There was too much stacked against me and holding back out of fear would only get me killed.
However, I had just one card to rely on.
Umara still had to battle Ponteck, and I would be relying on her to wear him down for me. Hell, if she could win then I’d take that bet and let her have the champion title. But from her own words, she didn’t believe she could.
I hadn’t thought much about what the clash between Umara and Ponteck would look like, but I wasn’t optimistic. Apparently, Ponteck was freakishly talented. Even more so than the norm. And from what I was told, he was apparently a pretty decent person. And it wasn’t like I could refute that since I had never actually interacted with the man.
But saying that he was obsessed with the art of the blade was a good way to describe him. It seemed the Gulliard family in which he was raised had been rising in power recently, and Ponteck was supposed to be some prodigy that would raise them up another level.
How true it all was I didn’t know. But nevertheless, he was good, and Umara hadn’t been enlightened for long. She still had a lot of accumulation to do in regard to learning some of the more advanced spell formations, as well as making use of my knowledge. That took time.
Technically she was a full step ahead of Ponteck in regard to power. She was enlightened and he had yet to be. But unlike knights that recieved that immediate boost in power, warlocks didn’t.
I would be rooting for her, and I knew she would do her best. But whether she would come out on top was something I couldn’t say for certain. I just didn’t know enough about Ponteck.
Either way, I was in for some ball busting work. And I would have quite the audience.
For one, Plex left me a message saying that he would be watching, which meant the others from Divine Distribution would too. I even got a message from Patriarch Tavera telling me he would be attending. I didn’t realize he had the time, but it seemed the situation in the black market was in his favor if he could leisurely spend the day to watch me.
Included alongside them was Vetsmon’s parents as well as Umara’s friend Shadowbane. Her parents would also be there.
Well, I would need to put on a performance.
And so, the morning of the battle came.
……
…
Ladies and gentlemen! I give you all the debut battle for the day, 3rd place knight Tana Choron against 3rd place warlock Alfred Hollock!”
“Wooo!!”
The stadium burst out into cheers, tens of thousands of people filling the stands to the brim and thousands more within the building watching. There were even projectors above the stadium displaying the battles high in the sky for so many others to see.
It was the biggest battles the Magisterium could present, and like how every city needed their community entertainment, the all eyes within the Capitol were on the event. It was almost like a holiday.
Tana moved up the arena for her battle, her face calm as she faced her opponent.
She had made it through Feiden, given it her all and left himm so battered he couldn’t even show up for his next battle. She was proud of herself, and in hindsight, substantially grateful to John for pushing her to fight. She was glad that she wouldn’t be regretting it for the rest of her life.
And she could now face her opponent with confidence. Because no matter what, even if she lost, she would be the 6th strongest individual within the magisterium. 7th if she counted Vetsmon, which she did. Still, she was in the top 10 and that was worth all the pain she faced.
She glanced at her parents in the stands before her battle started.
Once the hand went down, she dashed forward and laid into the warlock. Alfred was a fire type so she couldn’t kite him since she would only be helping him that way.
Scorching air brushed by her face as she dashed forward, getting up close and using her Aura to predict his movements.
And turns out, she was worrying too much.
Alfred was mobile, which a partial air affinity that gave him some mobility. But it wasn’t enough to escape her, as even if he enveloped the whole arena with fire, all she had to do was tough it ot with Vigor before attacking again.
She may not have had the power to beat him with brute force. But with her Aura, she was able to harass him without rest, constantly cracking his barrier and forcing him to spend energy to repair it instead of cast spells or recover.
And so, 5 minutes passed, Tana eventually burning out, yet coming out victorious as Alfred was sent flying off the arena with one of her kicks.
“The winner is Tana Choron!”
The audience exploded as all the smoke and flame dissipated, Tana being left with scorch marks all over her armor and skin. Half her hair was disintegrated and she had third degree burns in several places. But all that would heal within the day. It’s what made knights so disgusting.
After that, the next battle came.
Feiden Desmus versus Grace Jetsee.
Feiden was fast, and Grace couldn’t actually display her full power against Umara so not many people knew what she was capable of. They only knew that she had a perfect water affinity and a working air affinity.
An against that, Feiden could work rather well.
Nobody could use mobility against Feiden. That was his thing. Instead, as soon as the battle started, Grace could only try to suppress him with water while using air to keep the distance.
And at first, Feiden couldn’t go anywhere. Everywhere he went there was a swamp holding him back as well as constant currents being thrown at him. All that weight couldn’t be shrugged off or dodged easily, so he was forced into being passive.
But it was clear that once she tried doing any significant damage, she would fail to contain him. Shifting away from suppression meant Feiden got an open window, and he knew well to take advantage of it.
That was her first and only mistake. The instant she let up and Feiden sensed her intentions with his Aura, he dove in and closed the distance before she could even react.
Like that, her barrier was shattered three times over before she was beaten senseless and forced to surrender.
Of course, Feiden was dead tired by the end. But he wasn’t wounded at all so that made it look easy.
Like that, the last battle between the knights and warlocks came.
In a large suite containing several high nobles, Talexia Talerria sat with the Raven Chief Ironheart alongside their spouses and children, Shadowbane among them.
Ironheart smiled at Talexia.
“I hear your daughter has displayed particularly excellent performance. Is she enlightened?”
“She is.”
“Amazing. I’ve only heard of rumors and tales about prodigies who enlighten at such an age. She was only an advancement past her perfect affinity. I should think she wins this battle.”
“I would normally agree, but she hasn’t had much time to fulfill her newfound potential. I still have much to teach her, which will only happen when she enters the military.”
“Understandable. I congratulate you. You’ve raised an amazing girl.”
“Thank you.”
Talexia nodded, but wasn’t necessarily smiling.
She often forgot, but it wasn’t supposedly Umara’s own talent that let her enlighten at such an age. She continued to insist that John was the reason, and given more time to think, Talexia wasn’t doubting that as much.
She was learning spells and techniques by herself, many of which were quite advanced. It was nothing she should be learning now. She had seen the spells personally and knew that she wouldn’t learn such things until she was well within the military, even if enlightened.
It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before, but it was clear that John was feeding her some advanced information. It seemed his knowledge was as good as she said. That, or he had gotten such spell formations from elsewhere. She couldn't be sure, because his background meant that he could get his hands on things inaccessible to most.
Regardless, she was focused on how this battle with Ponteck would go. There was a lot going on politically and this would be the first time she would see her daughter go all out.
Soon enough, she could see Umara.
Unshockingly, she was with John. It seemed he was still busy telling her something. Interestingly, she just shook her head when her name was called and walked up the arena without looking back at him. They didn’t even kiss.
It seemed they had a disagreement. About what, she couldn’t guess.
Before long, the battle started.
Umara’s body was cradled by a gust of wind, drifting around as Ponteck drew his longsowrd and shot forward. His speed was almost as blinding as Feiden’s, perhaps just barely missing the mark.
Effectively though, he was just as fast, and Umara felt the pressure.
But he wasn’t without competition. Umara was smart and had prepared for this battle with John’s help. She also had some cards of her sleeve.
Suddenly, some fire erupted from Umara’s hand, the flame growing as a small tornado whipped around it.
And it continued to grow as she kept her distance. Talerria leaned forward curiously, sensing the mana being used and noticing how it was being almost entirely driven by the air magic.
The tornado caught the fire as it was generated and created a superheated whirlwind of flame. It grew before Umara before it was let go to drift before her right in Ponteck’s path.
Ponteck stopped in his tracks, trying to run around or away from the blaze. But he couldn’t outmaneuver the firenado as it continued to grow.
Eventually, it enveloped him, and right as it did, screeching winds shot into it. Some of them were bladed and created momentarily windows that revealed the deep red inferno within. Others only sped up the fire, making it burn hotter and brighter.
In fact, it became so hot and bright that it quickly burned itself out. It seemed Umara made a mistake and the flame from her hand was suddenly cut off, all fire mana evaporating as it was consumed nearly instantly by the rapid oxidation.
Like that, the firenado was released.
And the instant it was, Ponteck could be seen shooting straight for Umara, almost entierly unscathed besides his armor.
She was already dodging by that time though, kiting the man who couldn't seem to close the gap. In fact, it looked like she was baiting him, keeping close enough to keep his attention but far enough not to get hit.
As she did so, she reverted back to her specialty and threw out invisible blades and pressurized bombs of air.
These left wounds across Ponteck’s body. And that made one thing clear.
Ponteck had come out of the firenado almost unscathed. However, that wasn’t necessarily because he was that much stronger. Toughening the body took Vigor, and there was no doubt thaht Ponteck was forced to consume copious amounts of it to keep himself from getting incinerated.
Now, he didn’t have so much. Of course, Umara was running through just as much mana.
Now he was receiving wounds that bled out energy every second. Some blood soaked his pants and shirt as the minutes passed. His armor was dented and any gaps within it were taken advantage of.
Of course, Umara coudn’t allow him to get close, which was difficult. Sometimes he would burst forward with energy, resulting in some close calls that made the audience clench their jaws.
But she could keep her distance. That was a warlock’s specialty, and within an enlightened air affinity, Umara was perfectly suited for mobility.
But it couldn’t continue forever. 15 minutes of heated battle passed, and Ponteck had yet to land a single hit. But they were both being worn out, and Umara was using too much energy.
Finally, the climax arrived.
Umara clenched her teeth, and suddenly, her barrier was dropped entirely. She then stopped in her tracks, prompting Ponteck to take up a defensive stance.
However, the next spell formation she cast didn’t release blade of wind. Instead, the surrounding air was suddenly expanded.
Ponteck’s eyes widened, as well as the eyes of Talexia and several other high profile spectators as a vacuum domain was formed with Umara at the epicenter.
Ponteck’s body suddenly glowed as his Vigor expenditure became visible. But that only lasted for several seconds before his wounds exploded, blood shooting out of them like a river.
The vacuum exerted a siphoning force across Ponteck’s entire body. Every fluid within his body was trying to escape through any opening possible. In any other circumstance he’d be able to fend such things off merely with the strength of his body. But not only had he not ever faced something like that, but he was almost entirely drained of energy. It took most of what he had just to keep his eyes from popping out of their sockets.
However, that seemed to kick in his fight or flight response, and suddenly, his blade glowed.
Everyone’s eyes widened further as he let out a slash, a blade of Vigor projecting from the blade and flying toward Umara with blinding speed.
She shuddered before an explosion of wind threw her body to the side, her vacuum domain collapsing as air rushed back in.
It took even more energy to protect herself from the resulting pressure of her own design, and that seemed to be the last straw. Ponteck took the opportunity, his body looking emaciated, and dashed over to her.
Before she could even raise her trembling hand, his sword was placed against her chest.
Everything froze, and the judge announced.
“The winner of this battle is Ponteck Gulliard!”
“Wwooooo!!!”
The crowd exploded with cheers, and yet the people who really knew what happened were silent.
The Raven Chief glanced at Talexia.
“You sure you haven’t started teaching her?”
“...”
She didn’t respond, but her frown made the answer clear.
John ran up the arena, Ponteck backing off a step before outright collapsing.
Of course, Umara wasn’t much better. She couldn’t even hold herself up as her eyes fogged over.
John caught her as the audience watched on.
Umara hadn’t won, but she had afforded John a much higher chance of winning.
……
…
“Are you sure you want to do this? I’ve seen your opponents. They’re being outfitted with some strong gear.”
“We both know the answer to that.”
*Click*
John pulled back the bolt on his assault rifle halfway, gazing at the bullet within for a few second before letting it slide back forward.
Maxwell watched him, silent.
He didn’t sense any anger from John’s emotions. In fact, he didn’t sense much at all. Simply because John wasnt excited, mad, nervous, confident, or an other common emotion before such an event.
It was almost like his mind was blank. Or, he was simply so focused on the upcoming task that he didn’t have the mind for anything else, not even his own emotions.
Of course, John wasn’t mad about the battle. In fact, he enjoyed the show. He had never known his girlfriend was capable of such things and she surprised even him with how she utilized his ideas.
But now was the time for business. Umara had lost so everything hinged on him now. He would be walking into a lion's den. He could already feel the killer gazes on him while outside.
There were people who wanted him dead, and it was good that tens of thousands of people were there, along with some strong allies. Otherwise, he was pretty sure some of them would just walk up and chop off his head.
No, they had to send somebody else. Like a conveniently handpicked knight or warlock who would do their best to follow their orders and kill him. This tournament was now nothing more than a killing floor, the arena their cage.
And John was walking right into it.
Maxwell was well aware of the risks and the killer gazes, even more so than John. Of course, this had long turned into something more than just a battle for a title. This was about sending a message. Maxwell just didn’t like that John was choosing to be so open about it.
But there were many eyes on the arena, powerful ones that vested interest in how the battles went. There seemed to be four sides.
The Church, the Kingdom, the Black Market, and a few independents.
All of them were paying attention and so although the waters had gotten significantly deeper, John was also safer.
Maxwell knew that better than John himself. It was the only reason he wasn’t grabbing the kid and dragging him out of the city.
“Ladies and Gentleman! I present to you, the final battles of the day! Please welcome John Cooper, a cold summoner who will be contending against the best of the warlocks and knights the Magisterium has to offer! Sir Cooper sits at the top of the Elite Rankings alongside the rest of his Elite squad! An anomaly, yet a sumoner! Will he be able to prove himself capable of matching up against the best?! We shall see as he faces his first opponent, the 8th place knight Ravon Ditten!”
The judge announced, and Ravon walked up the arena in a thick suit of armor.
Maxwell spoke as John walked over to meet him.
“Stay safe.”
“Just get my girlfriend awake. I wouldn’t want her to miss such a spectacular show.”
“Tsk, there’s that arrogance.”
Maxwell hummed and walked off as John arrived on the arena.
He faced Ravon as an item appeared in his hand, his coat closed up and boots tied down in preparation.
His fingerless gloved shifted as he stood there without a weapon, his neutral face staring at Ravon.
His opponent spoke.
“I’m really glad I get to see you like this. I was beginning to think I’d never get the chance to tear out your disgusting tongue.”
“...And I’m regretting not bringing some olive oil.”
“What?”
Ravon looked at John like he was stupid. At the same time, John lifted the item in his hand.
A gas mask was pulled over his head. It’s shape and glass eye sockets, along with the canister that sat in front of the mouth, made him look creepy.
A muffled voice came out, one barely indistinguishable if not for a knight’s great sense of hearing.
“Your cooked flesh would taste better if I was able to deep fry it instead of pan sear it.”
“Battle start!”
The judge’s hand went down, Ravon taking a second to assess what John said before shaking his head and running forth.
In that moment though, a backpack of large cylindrical containers appear on John’s back, those canisters attached to a hose that he held.
Ravon could swear he saw John smirking underneath the mask.
“Have a taste of some German engineering.”
*WOOSH*
The trigger was pulled, and the hose spewed out a long line of flames that quickly enveloped the running Ravon.
The tar and gas mixture combined to create a sticky flame that burned at nearly 2 thousand degrees. It was further enhanced by John’s Psyka and Ravon had no means to extinguish it.
As expected, the man halted in his tracks and started flailing about. At first he was silent.
But eventually, some cries started to leak out. John didn’t hold down the trigger, but he did keep the man constantly ignited.
He even walked closer, dousing him with more fuel that entered the gaps of his armoor and cooked him alive.
Black smoke rose from his body as cries turned to screams and echoed through the arena. The cheers had stopped by now and had mostly become silent.
After releasing the trigger two minutes later, John dropped the hose, the backpack disappearing as he ripped his mask off.
Underneath was a toothy smile.
“What’s this?! Come on, little boy! Come rip my tongue out! Or is the melting skin keeping you occupied? Heh, good luck peeling that metal off!”
“Ahhh!!”
Ravon continued to scream as John walked over and looked down on him.
After several seconds, the fuel was burned through and went out. Of course, Ravon’s whimpers didn’t stop at that time. That searing hot metal armor continued to cook him before eventually cooling off.
Finally, once he had become quiet, John stepped over and placed his boot on his chest, standing over him with a smile.
“I think I won this battle. You go back and tell them that they’ll have to do better than sendinig some pathetic sack of shit to come face me. Otherwise all of you will need some skin grafts by the time I’m through. Honestly, it must suck being so tough right about now. Fucking knights.”
“...”
There was nothing but silence in response as John started walking away. At that time, the judge raised his arm.
“The winner of this battle is John Cooper. The next battle will be in 30 minutes.”
“Tsk, only 30 minutes? I need more rest!”
“...”
Everyone was silent as he laughed. As for Maxwell, he muttered when John walked back.
“...That was quite… surprising.”
“Well I’ve got more where that came from. You’re in for quite the show.”
“Hm.”
He only hummed. He still didn’t feel much from John’s emotions, except for a but of joy. It made him feel like John was messed up in the head a bit. He could cook a man alive and have fun doing it. Even Maxwell was a bit put off by those desperate screams.
Even now Ravon was being sent back to the medical rooms. Even for a knight, having your skin melted and scorched like that wouldn’t end with some simple recovery. There would be some definite extensive scarring that may take years to properly reshape into anything resembling his previous looks.
Not to mention the experience of being burned alive.
John was right. It must suck being so resilient. That much Maxwell could agree with.