Chapter 4: Winner...
I cannot describe it properly. The world suddenly went out of focus. There was a version of me still standing on the boundary line with a stupid look on its face, and there was me, three meters to the left and slightly behind, and between those two facts there was nothing at all.
Roman’s strike went through the afterimage.
Through it, and into all that empty air past the boundary, with every ounce of force he’d loaded for my chest now spending itself on nothing. You can’t cancel a full commit. He knew it the instant the image shredded, I watched it dawn on him as he fell.
Before he could recover, I gave him a punch in the back, flat between his shoulder blades, with every drop of power I had left.
Crash!
Roman Vale went out of the boundary line face-first, skidded two meters on the arena floor, and came to rest in front of the section with the most cameras.
For a second, nothing happened. But then Harrick’s arm came up. "Winner, Ash Rowan."
The stands didn’t cheer but rather began to question whether the fight was rigged or not. To be honest, I didn’t blame them, the way I got him out was ridiculous. But that was Roman’s fault, he loved to throw his opponents out of the cage, and I used that against him.
"Did you see?"
"What was that? Did he just?"
"Rewind it, rewind it!"
Roman came up off the floor with dirt on his chin. His eyes screamed murder, if there was no rules, I would’ve been dead by now.
"No. NO. That doesn’t count, that was a fluke, I demand a rematch, RIGHT NOW, you cowardly little trashba—"
"The evaluation is concluded. You cannot ask for a rematch now, you have to wait a week before doing so."
"My family will hear about—"
"They’ll see it on the broadcast, like everyone else."
I didn’t get the chance to enjoy my victory, a sharp burn began to spread in my chest running along every mana channel I owned, like someone had replaced my blood with hot coal.
My vision turned hazy at the edges and my legs grew weak. But I forced myself to stay firm, keeping my face bored, standing there like a true champion.
Above the ring, the placement board flickered.
[NORTHGATE STUDENT RANKING – UPDATED]
[ROWAN, ASH: #1056 → #320]
[VALE, ROMAN: #320 → #321]
Up in the stands, Cecilia Frost sat very still with her chin on her hand, watching me curiously.
I gave her a small wave which she did not return.
But she didn’t look away either, which was an improvement in my opinion.
[Host integrity: 44%. Core strain: severe. Estimated time until collapse: very soon.]
—
Unable to keep up the act, I got off the arena floor, turned the corner out of camera range, and the lights went out somewhere between one step and the next.
I woke up to a white ceiling and the smell of roses and antiseptic, a weird combination if I dare say so myself.
The feeling on my chest had been relieved.
A cool sensation crawling along my mana channels, inch by inch. It was the best thing I’d felt in a while.
"You’re awake. Wonderful." A woman’s voice, from somewhere to my left. "Don’t move. Don’t talk. Don’t flex anything to check if it still works, because it barely does."
I followed her instructions until I was allowed to look.
The infirmary was empty except for the two of us. She was sitting on a stool beside the bed with one hand hovering over my sternum, a pale green light under her palm.
She was young, perhaps three years older at most.
Her honey-colored hair was pinned up, highlighting her beautiful round face. She wore a white uniform that hung tightly to her curvaceous body.
’She’s hot...’
"Eyes forward, Ash." She pressed two fingers flat against my sternum and the cool relief spiked, sharp enough to make me hiss.
"They are forward."
"You scorched your mana channels. All of them. Do you know what I usually see this injury on? hunters who overdraw in life and death situations. And then they bring me an eighteen-year-old F-rank, sorry, D-rank, with such an injury."
Her eyes came up to mine, annoyed as it could be, "So. What did you cast?"
"I tripped."
"You tripped."
"Stairs are the real villain of this academy." I nodded my head.
"The arena has no stairs."
"Then how did I get up to the ring? Think about it."
"Nurse Hart," she said, by way of introduction, "Your channels need six more sessions or they’ll scar permanently. You know what that means, right?"
I nodded my head, " A ceiling on everything I ever cast for the rest of my life. And chronic pain that will not leave me. Right?"
"That’s right. So you’ll show up, on time, for all six, and you’ll tell me what actually happened."
She stood, made a note on her clipboard.
Ding!
[Evelyn Hart. Age 21. C-rank healer. Has rejected plenty of confessions this semester, four of them from instructors. Famous for two things: the gentlest healer on campus, and a body to die for.]
[CHOICE A: Ask her to have dinner with you. Now. Reward: Skill – {Tempered Channels}]
[CHOICE B: Thank her politely and pretend to sleep. Reward: +3 Stamina]
[CHOICE C: Do nothing. Reward: Nothing.]
I read Choice A’s reward twice and almost laughed out loud.
{Tempered Channels}.
[Risk assessment: Moderate-Severe. Probability of rejection: 94%.Probability she bans you from the infirmary and your channels scar out of spite: 6%. The System wishes to remind the Host he has five healing sessions left with this woman.]
Ninety-four percent rejection. Sure. But reading it again, the choice said ask. It didn’t say succeed.
"Nurse Hart."
"Hm."
"I’d like to take you to dinner."
Her pen stopped.
"Don’t get me wrong, this is coming from a pure intention. I wanted to tell you what happened.."
She looked at me, her eyes blinking a few times in silence.
"You promise you will tell me?"
"I promise."
"You have a deal."
[Reward delivered: {Tempered Channels}]
The cool feeling sank into my chest, I could feel the improvement in my tempered channels instantly.
[Tempered Channels]
[Rank: D]
[Type: Passive]
[Effect: Your mana channels are 30% stronger. +10% Mana Regeneration. +10% Mana Pool]
Staring at the skill effects, I was immediately satisfied with the results. The skill was a passive one, which meant it didn’t require any activation.
The effects were incredibly useful too, improving my current condition, and my mana related capabilities. Overall, I was very pleased with it.
The infirmary door opened.
My step sister, Cecilia, stood in the doorway, holding, of all the things in the world, a small white box from Reine Patisserie.
She looked at me, flat on the bed grinning like a discharged idiot. Then at Nurse Hart. Then back at me.
The temperature dropped several degrees.
"He’s awake," Cecilia said, to no one in particular, like she was confirming a rumor she found disappointing.
"Awake and stable," Hart said. "Family?"
"No," said Cecilia, walking in anyway.
