Emily Harris
Stories
6
Chapters
1,488
Words
2.2 M
Comments
0
Reading
7 d, 19 h
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Rufus Emberheart stood at one end of the arena. He wore a set of chainmail armor that glistened in the morning sun, with armored pants underneath. There was no helmet, leaving his majestic mane free to sway with the breeze. He was unarmed and supremely confident, though his piercing eyes left no doubt that under the arrogant nonchalance slumbered a mighty titan. Li Xiang faced him. The old man wore traditional kung-fu attire, was equally unarmed as his opponent, and his hands rested calmly at the sides.…-
126 •
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As Jack watched the healers pour green energy over an unconscious Edgar, he marveled at how close the battle had been. Truthfully, he’d walked in expecting it to be a walk in the park. He’d walked away with two broken hands, several cracked ribs, many superficial wounds, first degree burns, and entire chunks of skin missing on his legs. Plus the pain of all those. Granted, things would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t underestimated Edgar, but that sort of mental warfare was also part of a…
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126 •
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Edgar stepped into the arena under the deafening cheers of thousands of people. System-enhanced lungs thundered with roars, feet stomped on the wooden stands, and the constant din of conversation flowed underneath the rest of the noise, difficult to perceive but always there. The cheers hit Edgar like a warm wall of humidity, like entering a marsh. The sun came immediately afterward, shining on his eyes and making him shield them, while the sweat-filled breeze of the arena blew into him along with grains…
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126 •
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The middle of the night found Brock rushing over rooftops and jumping from house to house. He landed a long leap, then did a tippity dance in celebration before continuing. The big dog bros who hid on the rooftops looked at him with disinterest, so he ignored them back. Brock was happy because he had food! Big Bro had arrived with a Big Sis and told him to go elsewhere. Brock didn’t understand that; they would just mate, right? What was the big deal? But Brock was a good bro, so he listened. He…
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126 •
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Jack rested at the entrance of the participant district, leaning against the side of the open gate. He wore a dark blue buttoned shirt—taut over his wide shoulders and bulging muscles—and light brown pants, while his hair was tidy and his shoes polished—not by him; he’d just found them in a cupboard. He simply stood there with his arms crossed, gazing at the setting sun and letting his mind wander. Idle time was necessary for the mind to relax and think. If a person was constantly busying…
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126 •
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Despite his resolve to train, Jack took Brock and spent an hour after leaving the arena to visit a seaside cafe—and not because he liked the coffee. A guillotine was hanging over his head, and if Master Shol refused to help, he needed to do something. With the light of day and his frustration vented, his thoughts would hopefully flow smoother. An hour later, Jack entered his house, let Brock snack in the kitchen, and headed directly to the basement. “Good afternoon, Master,” he said. The old ghost…
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126 •
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“Edgar Allano and the Dao of Magic versus The Sage and the Dao of Divination!” Jack laughed, turning to the Sage. “I still can’t believe you registered The as your first name.” “Blame them for insisting.” The Sage laughed back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a duel to attend to.” Jack nodded. “Good luck to you both. May the best man win.” They nodded back. Edgar jumped off the stands and rode a blue cloud to the arena stage. The crowd cheered. Opposite him, the Sage excused…
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126 •
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The impending fight drew Jack to the present. He was full of dark thoughts, and the best way to get rid of them was to punch something hard and repeatedly. His Dao agreed, too. Jack grinned as the sharkman landed in the arena. The nearby crowd cheered at him. However, before jumping in himself, Jack had something to do. Reaching inside the white bag he carried, he removed a head-sized glass sphere shining with all colors of the rainbow. He crushed it between his hands—it wasn’t really glass—and…
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126 •
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Jack reached the arena in a haze. His mind was filled with dark thoughts, and he was torn. Images of the professor’s house on fire sprang uninvited. He saw Valville razed to the ground, five dark forms darting through the streets and massacring anyone on sight. He saw Harambe and the brorillas valiantly stepping up to protect themselves, only to get easily butchered. He saw the light leaving their wide open eyes as their blood stained the ground. It made no sense. Why would they slaughter hundreds of…
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126 •
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The moon hung high. Jack sat on his rooftop, enjoying the night breeze. He was alone. Not even Brock was there. His brows were deeply furrowed. He needed to think. What had happened in the auction was different than every other time. Gan Salin and Shard Presht envied Jack’s strength and were bitter that they’d lost to him. Gan Salin bore the heavier grudge, obviously, due to what happened in Valville, but he wasn’t someone to worry about. Both of these scions felt relatively unimportant in the…
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126 •
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