Tower of Glorious Bastards

Chapter 7

Crown Game (3)


"Do not be so cocky…Stupid lizard."

Ah. He smiled to himself, That's a good response.

Lero-ro felt that smile begin to twist itself into a benign smirk, let it, and rested a hand on the shoulder of that diminutive Princess, Anak Zahard.

"Fine," the lizard child looked up at him as he spoke, reaching up in order to squeeze down on the resting hand as it did so, "I agree to adding a new rule. Baam's team will participate from the next round, and if they are successful in taking and holding on to the crown before the end of the game, Miss Anak's Green April becomes Baam's. And until the Regulars' testing comes to an end, Miss Anak is prohibited from attempting to steal the Black March. However, if Baam's team fails to succeed in this, then Baam's Black March shall become Anak's." Ro paused, his face turning serious as he pointed to each of the Regulars in turn, finger throbbing, "Therefore, as Miss Anak's team is still disqualified, the next round shall begin with Mister Parakewl's team remaining as the advancing winner.

'Now then," Lero-ro turned, his smirk returning, "Let's get the game rolling again, everyone." And with his back turned towards the assembled Regulars behind him, he paused to direct a knowing smirk at the bait that had been so kind as to present itself.

Seems like this Crown Game… He thought, as he began to return to the viewing room, Will become the greatest Crown Game in history.


Said bait had been listening to the conversation in the far off cage.

And his empowered eyesight had seen the parting smirk that the Ranker had turned towards him at the end of the negotiation.

That bastard… Aaron's thoughts churned in grim annoyance, How dare he act as if all of this was only for his own amusement.

Intellectually, the magus understood that for a being of Lero-ro's probable power, this game really was just another means of passing the time. Even so, his pride as a practitioner of Thaumaturgy was rankled just the same by the Ranker's incredibly casual dismissal of him.

Again.

Aaron took stock of his options. Gave it some thought, and then realized that as annoying as this "bet" was, it ultimately didn't matter.

All I have to do, really, is just kill them all. The shaman's shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension bleeding out from them. His face cracked, forming a predatory grin.

Let them come.


The disqualified team of Ship Lee Soo, Hatsu, and Anak Zahard retreated to their own room, Anak's prize secured. There was no way that the other three would be able to hold on to the Crown by the end of the fifth round. She had seen it herself;

That faceless bastard's strength was the real deal.

Not that it really mattered. Even if by some fluke they had won, Anak would simply take the Black March from the kid later on.

It was hers. Her right. So Anak focused ahead, her gaze level, even as she passed by another cell, a hooded face leaning up against the bars.

…What?

She glanced to her side, noticing something…familiar about the figure that was staring at her from within it's waiting room. The person's feminine face peered back at her impishly, her features inquisitive, appraising.

"….."

What?!

The hooded girl smirked.

"….."

This bitch!

The figures words that were unheard to anyone else, drove Anak into a blind fury. Her grip on the Green April tightened further, as she prepared to charge at that ghosty eyeball woman. Her focus solely on her intent to pound in her made-up features.

A blade rose up to Anak's neck, dull side held against her throat. She glanced down in surprise, her anger evaporating into thin air.

"Ha…Hatsu!?" Lee Soo shouted, "Wh…What are you doing?!"

The would-be samurai ignored his other teammate, and leveled a cold glare at her. "Do not commit any further acts that would bring harm to the team." He threatened, "Anak Zahard."

She cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at the swordsman, pushing his sword away, "What team." Anak continued walking, ignoring Lee Soo's protests.

It's not like those guys matter, anyway.


Smirking, the attractive girl watched as the little fake walked off in a huff.

"Entertained?" A low, nasally voice rang out from behind her.

"Well…" She paused, before turning to face her companions, her golden heels clacking loudly against the floor, "Umm…" She gave it some thought, stretching her arms as she did so, "Shall we get ready?"

Her confidence spoke for itself.


"I'm sorry…" Koon turns, adjusting his tie as he hears Baam speak up, "Because of me…" His friend's gaze drifts downward, despondent, "You both got involved, even though I can't do anything."

Koon turns towards him, a smile on his face, "Don't worry Baam. Thanks to you, we've managed to drag that lizard off the game field. Baam. You're really amazing as well." Baam's face turns up, confused, "Even in front of Zahard's daughter, you didn't hand over the Black March…Honestly, I'm a bit surprised."

Baam's face turns downward again, this time, a reminiscent smile spreading on his face, "It's…nothing great. It's only because both of you were here that I could do that. Plus…" The black haired boys hand grips the weapon in his hand tightly, "Since I'm already indebted to Black March…" His expression softens, the smile growing in fond remembrance of something, "I didn't want to betray her…Since I've been taught that if I betray a woman, then the world's ceiling will collapse."

Koon's expression freezes, sliding back into cold neutrality.

You must never trust another.

"…." Koon blinks, What an irritating memory.

"But the fact that you have no strength to defend the Black March is unchanged. In short, your actions were a baseless bluff." Baam's face turns red, twisting in embarrassment, "Now that I think about it, I wonder what you trusted so much to make such decisions. And that big, stupid alligator has limited uses in comparison to his size." Koon sighs as he looks upward, "But still…you're amazing."

"…Huh?"

"Even though you're not strong, and even though you've got nothing to trust, you will still try to protect those that trust in you." He turns, staring at the black haired child in front of him, "I could never do that." He says with a smile.

"WE WILL NOW BEGIN ROUND 3 OF THE CROWN GAME!" Lero-ro's voice cuts through, ending the moment, "Those participating, please press the buzzer before the count ends! One!"

"Then, shall we go?"

"Two! Three!"

Koon steps forward, as his expression changes to a confident smirk, signaling his shift into his own battle mode, "To take the throne…"

"Four!"

The Gator and Baam follow behind, as Koon withdraws a knife from the briefcase in his hand.

"Five!"

The gate to their room opens, the bars rising to give them access to the larger arena.

"The Crown Game, Round 3! Begins now!"


Aaron Gentles smirked at the now-familiar sound of the cages clanging open, signaling the beginning of the round. His gaze flickered, taking stock of the teams coming out this time.

So there's four of them this time, huh?

The first team that grabbed his attention was almost as forgettable as the cannon fodder team from the first round, consisting of a stocky middle aged man dressed in black pants and a white shirt with a bullseye splashed directly on the center of his torso, [i]Ha[/i], a solemn, tallish conehead of a man with khaki-colored skin, dressed in a red vest and brown kilt. This one was equipped with a spear and held an expression so focused that Aaron found himself wondering what it was he was so stressed out about.

Oh, right.

The last member of that intrepid trio, and clearly the leader by the way she strode ahead of the other two, was a tallish woman in a well-cut one piece dress, wearing a confident smirk and holding some kind of toy wand.

Probably isn't a toy, though.

Committing the woman to memory, Aaron's gaze turned towards the next team, which consisted of some kind of humongous shapeless black mass of a creature with marks of white near the top that could function as perhaps an eye and a mouth, given it's shape. The next tallest member of the group was a dark brown four-eyed freak of a swordsman, who was naked from the waste up and probably was as forgettable as he looked. And the final member was a pale midget in a green cape holding a…

They have guns here? And a sniper rifle at that…That seems…Strangely functional.

Aaron really couldn't help but be amazed out how prepared some of these "Regulars" had been when they had been selected to enter the Tower. The inclusion of a sniper rifle of all things in a setting where everyone had been fighting with either supernatural abilities or traditional melee weapons was enough to throw the man off his stride. It was almost unsettling, as if he had overlooked something critical in his analysis thus far. Some kind of hidden depth that he had yet to plumb. A fatal underestimation of some sort. The unexpected unknown.

Pushing the thought from his mind, Aaron focused on the third team, as colorful as the last one. This one consisted of an extremely pale young man dressed in a purple shirt over a red undershirt. His standout features being his red bandanna matching his red pupils, and the similarly colored short red club he kept sheathed on his back. The next one was a large, broad muscular creature, tan skinned with a duskier red hair and set of eyes, this time oddly matching the pair of demonic-looking wings sprouting from his back. On one of his shoulders was perched the last member of their team, some kind of horned little squirrel pixie thing, with an annoying smirk and soulless black eyes. If Aaron hadn't been watching out for the subjects of the bet, he would have bet decent money that this team would be the one to give him the most trouble. As a matter of fact, he felt that they were the only trio of the remaining three teams that would even be able to put up a fight.

And so, Aaron turned to take a good look at the fourth and final team that had decided to enter the fray this time around. They were definitely the team he had observed during Lero-ro's test, lead by the kid with the incredibly pale blue hair, his hair now done up in a crude ponytail with his bandanna, knife in one hand, and a briefcase in the other. The massive form of the gator creature, his leather tunic and fluttering red cape. He was holding a red spear that was as tall as he was, and wore an expression of utmost ferocity. Flanking them was the anomaly. The black haired child that had been immune to the Rankers Shinsoo wall during his test, and the one whose weapon, the Black March, had interrupted his fight with the lizard girl. And was the focus of the annoying bet that the Ranker had agreed to.

Well, that's fine, Aaron felt his smirk grow, Won't be much of a bet, then. His hand raised up, holding his pistol once again, aimed at the boy whose golden eyes reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching vehicle.

Funny, it'll probably end the same way, too.

And then a bright flash obscured his vision, a thundering boom assaulted his hearing, and he found himself needing to parry a knife that had come far, far too close to slicing into his exposed jugular.


Koon Ageuro Agnis was wondering just what it was that allowed this faceless guy to hold his own against a Zahard's Princess. He was barely able to react to Koon's charge, as impressive as that was, but it wasn't anything special.

"Hey, guys!" He calls to the three other teams that had entered the arena, "Me and the Gator will hold off this hatchet bastard! You guys take the crown! We'll settle this next round, alright?!"

The assembled extras roar their approval, as the larger number of them dash at the throne in the center of the arena. Koon's attention returns to his opponent, prompted by the faceless bastards wooden chuckle, as a red glow surrounds the throne in response to the other teams charge.

Let's see what happens.


Safely returned to their own chamber for the moment, Ship Lee Soo turned his gaze out towards the ensuing battle from in between the bars of his temporary prison.

"Hmm…That Koon guy is quite smart!" Lee Soo exclaimed out loud, "He's more than fast enough to have charged straight to the throne or at the turtle unimpeded, but it looks like he's the only one suspicious of what that blonde guy did when he drew that circle around the throne at the end of the first round! Not only that, but he created a situation where people would wind up ignoring the weakest person on his team, Baam! By holding up the blonde guy, he's allowing the other 10 competitors to focus on the blonde guys team mates! No matter how strong they are, there's no way they'll be able to handle those odds. And since there's no way that they left the throne undefended, that means that he'll be cutting down the number of competitors when they trigger the blonde guys trap as well!

'This results in the blonde guys team being disqualified, while also allowing them to control the fighting, while also allowing Koon to create a situation where Baam winds up being the one to sit on the throne. It's a thoroughly calculated move on his part." Lee Soo's expression grows serious, "But even then, that requires that Koon and the Gator are able to not only hold off the team that fought ours to a standstill, but that they also immediately subdue the other teams right in the middle of that. Are they really strong enough to do all that while also covering up for Baam's weakness at the same time?" He paused, waiting for a response.

"Hey Hatsu, Anak, what do you guys think?" He turned around, only to find that neither one of them were paying him any attention.

"Hahahaha…"

I really shouldn't be worrying about them…when our team's falling apart…


"Can you really hold me off, kid?" Aaron responds to the child in front of him, "You may be fast, but your attacks lack strength," The shaman holds the wooden shaft of Timber Falls against the kid's dagger in a deadlock, as the shaman's pistol vanishes into thin air, replaced by his familiar obsidian dagger. He stabs down with it, intending to plunge the weapon into the shoulder of the shorter kid. It's met by the kid's briefcase, the unexpected durability of which turns it aside harmlessly.

Inside of his head, alarms go off, alerting the shaman to the activation of his trap. His smirk grows, as the dull red light of his runic array shines brightly. Elder Futhark was not only one of the most widespread and oldest of the runic alphabets, but it was also well known to have had many spells associated with it. The most famous example of this being an ancient necklace that had been inscribed with a charm to protect a pregnant mother during childbirth.

The widespread knowledge of the charm's existence, combined with how widespread the language and its derivatives were, were probably the single best bet for thaumaturgical rules being able to reach into the Tower through the Reality Marble of the World, Gaia. Aaron had painted the runes for the charm with color crimson, indicating violence and bloodshed. The array activated, as the majority of the other teams ran into the glowing red circle.

When one thought of what exactly a charm for safe childbirth actually indicated, one realizes that the charm was not so much about enabling the mother to resist damage from the strain of childbirth, but the swift expulsion of the child from the womb without harm to either party. By designating the target for protection, Parakewl, as the "mother" in the center of the array, the twisted meaning of the charm shifted from "expelling the child without incident" to "expelling foreign elements with needlessly excessive violence".

Five figures ran into the circle. It flashed brightly, and five figures were hurled with brutal force into the distant walls of the arena. Five sickening crunches echoed throughout the chamber, and five figures slumped to the floor, lifeless.

What that left were, the red haired pair from before, the winged one taking a boxing stance as bandanna withdrew his club, the blonde woman with the pink dress, as she held her wand aloft, aiming it at the shaman. And lastly, the midget with the sniper rifle, who wore an expression of blank shock.

His expression confident, Aaron turned towards where the massive form of the Caped Gator stood, squaring off silently against his opponent. Phalvin, for his part, was trembling violently, his gaze shifting back and forth between the enemy towering before him, and Aaron himself. The shaman decided to let the turtle handle himself for the moment, while he slowly backed away from the…white haired kid, now that he looked at it a little more closely.

Aaron let himself chuckle a little bit at the kid's calm expression, his only reaction to the charm having been to narrow his eyes, "So, kid, what do you think?"


I think that you're not nearly as smart as you think you are. Was the response that Koon kept to himself. The only reply he gave to the hatchet-wielder was to step back, disengage from the fight, and then drop his knife dramatically as he turned towards the remaining Regulars with contempt.

"Maaaaan, what a bunch of useless fodder you all are." Koon sighs, as he raises his palm to his face, "You could at least have busted through that guys trap, right? Whatever. Side characters like yourselves…" Koon pauses, as he reaches down in order to pick up his knife from the ground, "Should just disappear."

He watches the four remaining as their faces twist in anger, smirks tauntingly as they all stare at one another in unspoken agreement, and the faceless bastard rests his hatchet on his shoulder. The Gator notices the change in the atmosphere, as turning towards the remaining fodder as the turtle disengages as well.

Now that I know that I can't use these guys to just break through his trap, I guess I'll just have to keep them from getting in my way.

"Fight among yourselves. I'll allow the winner to work with us to take these guys down and then take the crown." Koon points his knife at each of the four in turn, "It's pretty simple, right? I don't want any weaklings dragging me down against someone who could fight back against a Princess of Zahard."

Baam turns to his teammate in shock, wonder and amazement plain on his features. Sorry, Baam. Your friend is a devil. Now then…Faceless bastard, it's time to show you just who it is that you're standing in the way of.


Who does this kid think he is, anyway? Aaron Gentles thought to himself, continuing to chuckle at whatever the blue kid was attempting to accomplish. Idiots just gonna provoke them with his posturing.

The shaman relaxed, his arms drop to his sides, letting the inevitable happen. The pink-dress, sniper midget, and twin reds turned towards the blue kid and his black haired companion, their expressions livid. With frightening coordination, the two bruisers charged towards forward, as the woman and sniper retreated to take a position better suited for their fighting styles. The midget shouts at the top of his lungs as runs back, rifle held at the ready, "Oi! Everyone! Let's make a temporary truce until we crush that white haired kid!" The other three grunt their agreement, and their team falls into place.

The woman raises her wand back like a fisherman casting a line, readying it for an attack, while the cloaked sniper locates a random pillow on the ground and slides next to it, propping his rifle up, establishing his position. The white haired kid nods, smirking to himself, "I bet that winged fatty is going to go after that blonde guy over there,"

The response from the four is eerily synchronized, "SHUT UP! We'll fight among ourselves after we destroy you!"

The kid's smirk, if anything, becomes even more smug, "Oh really? That's quite unfortunate," He idly taps the side of his knife against briefcase, "Fighting among yourselves might have been more fun since you're all about equal in level." As if his words were a signal, the gator steps away from Phalvin, and moves to come between the remaining Regulars and the black haired kid, "You really play boring games."

The white haired kid takes a stance, facing towards his opponents, as his towering teammate hefts his spear up, at the ready. The six of them stare at one another, as the white haired instigator's expression grows more and more relaxed, even in the face of the presumably mounting pressure.

"What, aren't you coming? Bring it." His words act as a trigger, and the red-winged fatty and red-bandanna charge forward, the Gator roaring in joy at the commencement of hostilities. The midget opens by opening fire on the instigator, only for him to almost casually block the bullets with his briefcase. His skill standing out even more as he smoothly shifted his posture to block a strike from red-bandanna's club, which had mysteriously more than doubled in size. His expression never once shifted from the confident smirk he'd worn since he first started provoking the surviving Regulars.

Aaron's attention is drawn away at a loud thud echoing out, red-winged fatty having chosen to engage the spear wielding gator with a clumsy boxing stance. Red-fatty apparently had some strength to him, as the Gator was forced back from the blocked punch. With a terrible roar, the creature shoved his opponent back.

The winged redhead skidded backwards, barely maintaining his posture, as the towering Gator twirled his spear, brown cloak billowing, "KUHAHAHAHA! Turtle! Looks like you'll make for a decent hunt after all!" He stomped forward, throwing himself with a terrible ferocity at the unarmed man before him. The air around the monster tore, it's red spear sweeping towards it's victim. The smaller man doubled over as the shaft of the spear impacted into his torso, sending him tumbling through the air. Flapping his wings furiously to control his flight, the stocky creature landed roughly on his feet with a loud gasp, his eyes wide and panicked as he glanced around with the air of a cornered animal desperate to keep it's predator in sight.

The Gator had not so much as moved during the brief few seconds of his opponent's acrobatics, as if courteously waiting for him to compose himself before continuing. One reptilian limb stalked out through the Gator's red tunic, followed by another, as it slowly strode forward. It exuded confidence with it's every gesture, it's composure never wavering once during the entire fight. Within moments the monster crossed the distance between itself and it's prey, the smaller creature sweating fiercely, panting from exhaustion brought on by the exchange. The taller creature looked down, showing no signs of even the slightest exertion.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon."

It's partner, meanwhile, was undergoing a significantly better workout, even if his dominance was just as pronounced. For every clumsy swing red-bandanna took at the white haired boy, he used his unnatural speed and agility to easily dodge it while dexterously blocking the potshots from the midget sniper. The only disadvantage that seemed to affect him was the short reach of his knife, something which the club wielder attempted to use to his advantage as he moved to position the white haired boy between himself and his supporting fire. The effort paid off, as the child was forced to commit to an awkward dodge in order to block the sniper fire, giving red-bandanna a perfect opening to swipe at him with his club without the danger of a counterattack.

The attack was interrupted mid-swing, a long sword piercing the bandanna-wearing youth's shoulder. The club-user stared in shock at the significantly longer blade that the white haired boy was holding, before dropping to his knees, blade sliding out from him as he did so. He looked up, confusion plain on his face, as the white haired boy gave him a smirk. He raised his briefcase up, shook it slightly, and a large number of blades tumbled out from within it, all of different shapes and sizes, but each one appearing to be variations of that same short knife that he had originally equipped himself with.

"Annarasumanara~The entertaining and amazing~Magical Cloning Bag!"

As the cloned blades began to vanish, so too did bandanna's consciousness swiftly follow.

Further off, the pink dress woman's face contorted into a grimace as her two temporary companions fell, "Th…these bastards…Rush them!" Her arm whips forward, her wand shining a blinding white as it points at the black haired child.

"First take out the easy one!" The sniper responds, firing off a shot towards that kid, Baam.

"Baam?!" His companion shouts out in surprise, as the bullet impacts against some kind of unseen force, visibly grinding away into nothingness. In the same instant, the light in the woman's wand vanishes abruptly, both attackers suddenly stilled by an unknown power.

The white haired kid charges forward in the opening, smashing his briefcase into the woman's face, eliciting a satisfying crunch from the impact.

The massive gator turns towards the armed midget, "DO NOT MESS WITH ME, CHOCOBAR!" He hurls his red spear with such force that it transforms into a crimson blur of light, shooting past the pale sniper, his weapon dismantled in the attacks passing. "Hmph," The gator snorts, tilting it's head back, "NEVER TOUCH MY PREY! YOU STUPID TURTLES!" It's voice reverberates through the arena, causing the black haired child, Baam to flinch, "Worthless turtles, not even as good as a softshell! Hahahahaha!"

The gator flinched, it's gaze shifting towards the turtle, Phalvin, who had been standing near Aaron. The shaman's team mate had been watching the fight unfold, and was beginning to tremble in both fear and…something else. The giant lizard's face curled into something resembling a toothy smirk, turning towards the walking turtle with an impatient snort, spear at the ready. He took a step towards his target, before walking against his white haired companions outstretched hand.

"What is it, scamming turtle?"

The boy shakes his head, before turning towards Aaron Gentles, "My name is Koon Aguero Agnis, whoever you are. Well, I don't really need the name of a side character such as yourself, just go ahead and stand there patiently like the slack jawed dimwit you are, me and my companions will be coming for the crown next round."

The wood-faced man simply shrugged nonchalantly, his face blank.

The minutes passed in silence as the two teams stared at one another.

"AAAAAAAAAND TEN MINUTES HAVE NOW ELAPSED!" Lero-ro's voice echoed through the arena, "And with the defending team still on the throne at the end of the Third Round, there will be one confirmed advancing team! The surviving team will be given priority placement in joining subsequent rounds!"

The sound of cages opening rings out, and a number of animatronic pink elephant figures begin hovering into the arena, picking up the vanquished, loading them onto stretchers, and carrying them out for medical treatment. The white haired child, black haired child, and gator then return to their own waiting room, doubtlessly resting before coming out again to fight in the fourth round as well.


Aaron watches as Koon and his team retreat at the end of the round, his eyes never leaving their backs until the gate slams down, sealing them in.

"GENTLES! What was that?!" Parakewl squawks from the throne, his erstwhile disciple turns in answer,

"That, Master, was my magic. Just a small demonstration." The Gobyfuhai turned to regard the shaman, his expression turning from shocked to painfully smug satisfaction.

"As expected from my disciple," He declared simply, making a wide sweeping gesture as he did so, "Now, go forth Gentles, secure my passage to the next floor. Kukukuku."

The forgotten turtle walks towards his well dressed team mate, "Yo, Gentles…I gotta request."

Aaron simply looked down on him, "What?"

Phalvin looked up, his comically wet eyes focused in a new determination, "Let me handle that bigass lizard. Guy looks like the one that ate my mam."

His companion simply stared at him, His…mother…? "Was it the same one?"

The humanoid reptile shakes his head, "Naw, they might be related or some shit. But either way…I gotta take him out. I just…" His eyes turned distant, remembering some past trauma, "I just gotta."

Aaron turned away, considering his options, Well…That swordsman guy was supposed to be pretty tough, and he *did* take him out pretty easily… "Can you beat him?"

Phalvin shook his head again, "I dunno. Can you make it so me and him go one on one?"

Those three from last round for sure…I know he changed the way he had his bandanna on his way out here, so that might be the signal for those three from the bathroom…And probably at least one or two more teams thinking that they can just take out that Koon brat and then overwhelm me. The shaman turned back towards where said team had retreated to, his lack of expression pensive, Koon would be expecting that. So he'll…have his lackeys ambush the other teams, and then try to overwhelm me. So it'd be 6…no 5 on 2. Make Phalvin take the gator one on one and it becomes 4 on 1. That's…manageable. His thoughts on the subject completed, he gave a brief nods towards his diminutive companion, "Sure. Do whatever you can to hold him down."

The atmosphere around the turtle changed, where his eyes had formerly been wet, they were replaced by an expression of grim determination. With a fierce nod, Phalvin turned and walked to stand between his chosen preys team and the throne.

It'd be annoying if he died before the game was over, but with a face like that, I'm sure he'll manage to last at least the next two rounds. Maybe.

Hopefully.


With another one of Lero-ro's awkward announcements, the Fourth Round of the Crown Game begins. As Koon's team steps out to meet their opponents, the Gator, Rak levels his gaze upon the rest of the field.

"….Only three more teams this round. Hmph, the turtles must be too scared to even come out. FINE! I will hunt you all in a flash-!"

"Don't bother." Koon interrupts smoothly.

"What?"

"You don't have to hunt yet. So don't bother wasting your energy." The white haired young man says, his bandanna returned to it's original position, "We'll need all advantages we can get when we go after the crown this round. Even after we take down the guys holding the throne, strong ones will be coming out in the next round."

"…What are you talking about?"

"You'll see."

And so they wait.


Only three more teams, huh? Pretty much what I expected. Let's see…

Setting aside the trio he had already seen, Aaron Gentles took account of the newcomers. To his far right, opposite Koon and his group, were a team consisting a young girl, pale skin, black hair, probably around 10 years of age or so. She glanced around the arena, taking in the sight. Next to her stood a young man with tan skin, his head shaved bald save for patch that had been left to grow out as some kind of pseudo-bangs. This one was inspecting a metallic gauntlet on his left arm that held a large blue orb over his hand. The last member of that trio was some kind of humanoid insect creature, holding together a pair of "hands" forward as if it were begging for alms or something. It's large black cloak obscured most of it's form, but the head that poked out was composed of some kind of teal chitin that covered what Aaron presumed was more vulnerable violent tissues.

So that's the kid's ringers. Ok. So let's check out the unsuspecting victim number one…

To left of Koon's assisting team, there was another trio of largely unremarkable looking individuals. Another redhead, this one substantially more scruffy than the others, he had the bulk necessary to act as a bruiser. His headband and grey flannel t-shirt served to reinforce the impression. To his immediate left was…

Why is it that the insect doesn't even make me skip a beat, but I see a black guy and it throws me off my stride? Is it racism?

Weird.

A black guy, holding out a long, thing sword, with his long hair done up in a ponytail. He wore a tan wifebeater with a number of black lines crisscrossed on it at apparent random. The last member of this trio was an extremely corpulent pale white fellow, wearing what appeared to be some kind of grey fetish mask, and wielding a heavy looking steel mace.

…What?

With that thought on his mind, the shaman turned towards the last grouping of newcomers, this one consisting of some kind of teal colored humanoid flatworm, standing tall and faceless. Aaron idly wondered to himself if the two were even remotely kindred spirits, given the similar expressions they both wore. To his right, a mousy-looking short young man wore a mop of messy black hair on top of his head. And next to him was…another redhead. She was tall and attractive, but for all appearances, she could have been the older sister of the club user from the previous round.

The redhaired bruiser from the middle team was the first to break the ice, he looked to the team to his right and began shouting at the top of his lungs, "Hey! You guys! Let's not bother fighting each other! Let's join forces and take down those other guys down first! We can fight amongst ourselves after the fifth minute, how about that?!"

"I agree!" The mousy kid replied, "There's no need to waste energy uselessly!"

Aaron found himself regretting his lack of popcorn.

"In order to take those guys down we need to group-KUWAK!" The boy's friendship speech was interrupted with a comical squawk, as he was hit by some kind of flying force swiping him in the face. A brown spurt of liquid left Aaron wondering idly about the kids physiology, as Koon's ringers approached their victims. The insect stood before the redhaired woman, straightening itself up to it's full height.

"Wh..what?" The woman's expression twisted in shock and horror, as a number of chitin covered limbs wrapped tightly around her, dragging her to whatever the insect's cloak was covering. The shaman looked on with clinical disinterest as she screamed, ejecting a brown geyser as her bones emitted a horrifying crunch. Aaron turned away to look at the little girl's approach, paying little heed to the sounds of a person being eaten alive right in front of him. He found himself wondering if his erstwhile Master was made even more green than usual at the sight, before dismissing the thought.

The little girl calmly walked towards the faceless creature, its eyes focused on her. She reached out to touch it, muttering unintelligible even to the shaman's enhanced sense of hearing. As her fingers touched the teal skin, the creature shuddered, a horrified warbling screeching through the air. It then suddenly stopped, as the thing collapsed onto it's back, dead to the world.

"Bastards…!" Redhead bruiser finally reacted to the probably unexpected carnage, "What the hell are you doing?!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron saw Phalvin twitch, causing the shaman to turn his attention towards the true threat.

"Didn't I tell you there's no need to fight?" The voice was Koon's.

"You…what are you yapping about since a while ago?" This time it was the gator, Rak Wreckraiser.

Aaron spared a glance at the team, before turning towards the unfolding one sided fight. It would end soon, and then it would be time for him to face these three assistants which Koon had let loose on him.

"There's no need to fight. Because they are on our side." Koon continued.

"…What?!"

"Gator, do you remember the first test?"

"Of course I remember. It was a test to make four hundred regulars into two hundred."

The bruiser's group finally reached their opponents, apparently the insect was done with his meal, as he let its remains drop to the floor messily.

"Indeed. Those were the conditions of the test." Koon began, outside his field of vision. The shaman began listening closely, having been curious as to the circumstances himself, "But I figured, following those rules would be stupid. Since even if I didn't do it, someone else would kill the two hundred." Aaron watched as the redhaired bruiser engaged Gauntlet kid, tossing a haymaker that was easily dodged, "There was simply no need for me to go out and make enemies, so this is what I thought: While someone else is killing the two hundred, I'll go out and make the other two hundred into my allies."

Aaron's eyebrows perked up at that, the explanation sliding into place as the Gator also figured it out, "Turtle…Perhaps…with that bag…?"

Koon answered, a note of smugness entering his voice, "You're right. Using this bag, I began gathering allies. I picked only the useful ones. That is, only the ones worthy to be my allies. And I made a contract with them. I said, 'I will use this bag to get you past the tests safely. In return, you will help me pass my tests.'" Koon paused, as the insect grabbed it's second victim of the day, "Though meeting up with you and creating a team was outside of my original plan. Luckily, the ones in the bag worked out perfectly in number, so I could just partner up with you and pass the test. In the next team test I managed to trick the Proctor into getting the helpers to pass, but the Administrator of the Floor seemed to have noticed. Though she wound up letting us pass anyway."

The shaman found that interesting. Not only had the Administrator, Yu Han Sung, been whimsical enough to let such a trick go through, but the erstwhile genius boy hadn't managed to catch on to the true gender of the man.

"I knew I couldn't keep them hidden any longer," Koon continued, oblivious to the discovery of such a dire weakness, "So during the break, before the game started, I pretended to go to the bathroom and let them out of my bag." Aaron nodded to himself, as the gauntlet kid got a good shot in on the bruiser, dropping him where he stood, "To be honest, I didn't want to use them during this game. This was a mere bonus game…And the chances of winning weren't that high either. But…" The boy paused, apparently in thought. Aaron watched on as the insect and bald kid began herding the mace-wielding weirdo towards the little girl, his expression clearly panicked, "I want to win." A loud shriek heralded the end of the initial clean up, as the fat man's body collapsed from whatever effect the young girl had brought to bear.

Aaron stood up, hatchet at the ready.

"I want to win. And climb the Tower with you."


Koon stands up, his explanation finished. "Let's go. Gator. Baam." He reaches into his bag and withdraws another knife, Baam stands back, letting Koon and the Gator head towards the throne.

"What's the plan, collecting turtle?"

Koon ignores the bizarre nickname for the moment, "We've got a little more than five minutes before the end of the round. Before that, we need to overwhelm the …"

A balloon shoots past his head, interrupting him mid-sentence. Koon raises his briefcase up, staring murderously at the source of the attack.

The turtle standing before them strikes a determined pose, glaring at Koon and his partner. "Yo, fool. Leave the Gator. We've got business."

Koon's eyes narrow in response to the challenge, Losing Rak's fighting strength makes this more difficult…But…That turtle would make things difficult. That attack just now was…fast. And he beat down that swordsman on the lizard's team pretty easily, too.

Koon's gaze stays locked onto the turtle ahead of him, "Gator, can you handle this?"

Rak snorts in dismissal, "A softshell like this won't even last one minute against this Rak Wreckraiser." He taps the shaft of his spear against his massive shoulder, shooting a glare at his prey, "Go on ahead. I'll join you shortly in hunting the Faceless Turtle."

"Foo!" The turtle responds in a high pitched shriek, "My name ain't softshell! It's Phalvin! Phalvin Shellonisio!"

A barely audible chuckle rumbles from deep within the Gator's throat, "What does your name matter, softshell? You're just dinner, after all. You're barely worth a single bite, HAHAHAHA!"

Phalvin glares at Koon's teammate, his eyes burning with some deep seated emotion, "You said your name is Wreckraiser. Right?!"

Rak snorts, "Indeed, softshell. That is this Rak's clan."

A frosty murderous intent fills the air, causing Koon to blink in surprise, "Then you and me…We've got business, Wreckraiser!" The tiny lizard dashes towards it's much larger opponent with a somewhat shocking speed. Rak casually slams down his spear, his expression dismissive. A loud smack rings out, as Koon feels the air shake from the impact of the strike. He blinks at the result, as the turtle blocked the giant's swing with both arms raised over his head.

Rak gives a slow blink, his expression turning rapturous, "Then it's a hunt! HAHAHAHA!"


Aaron watched the drama unfold, as Phalvin lived up to his end of the bargain. Koon approached the throne, leaving the fight alone.

So he's planning on saving energy for the last round? How arrogant.

At his approach, Koon's assisting team began heading towards the shaman. "So, I guess it would be too much to hope that you'd all come at me one at a time?" Aaron smirked, teeth glinting through the crack on his face, "Let's begin."

Aaron relaxed, the cyan creature striking first, leaping towards him with an incomprehensible snarl. He allowed it's approach, waiting for the gauntlet boy's ranged attack to be launched. He obliged. The attack was some form of ball, Aaron's mystically enhanced vision enabling him to easily see it coming. His left hand came up, palm empty, hatchet held lazily in his right. The creature reared up in front of him, loud clacking filling his hearing, Aaron allowed his smirk to grow.

The ball swept in from the right side of the insect, careening towards his extend left palm, Aaron began tucking his arm in, as the attack swerved madly off course, missing him completely. The creatures roar took on a choking quality, as Aaron's hand shot forward into the depth's of it, pistol in his grip. A rapid succession of dry cracks rang out, as the shaman turned away from the enemy at his front, his gaze locked behind him just in time to catch a brilliant flash, right hand lashing out.

The lighting halted abruptly, the clang of steel hitting steel ringing out from between Koon and his target. A cruel smirk met Koon's shocked expression, their two weapon's biting into one another. The moment of surprise vanished, the white haired boy's expression turning into a confident smirk of his own. A soft thud marked the collapse of the creature to his back, as the shaman's opponent raised an eyebrow, pointing to his side. Aaron shifted his gaze behind him, where the small girl stood nonchalantly at his back. Her expression blank, she placed an outstretched palm against the shaman's spine.

The white haired boy smiled in triumph, "The barrier." The unspoken threat was obvious.

The shaman decided to tempt fate regardless, "I hear an 'or else'."

"Or else you wind up like Flatworm and S&M over there."

Aaron shrugged, idly raising his other arm and squeezing off another shot. The scream that came in response was ignored by everyone, the gauntlet user's posture ruined by the sudden destruction of his knee. The boy's day further complicated as his attacking ball smashed into his skull, having failed to catch it on it's return. The shaman's left hand came up, pointing the gun barrel at Koon.

Wordlessly, the blue boy smirked, and broke the deadlock, stepping back as he did so.

The girl muttered some kind of Aria as she touched them, so…

Aaron let his mind wander, visualizing a bud growing from the earth, shooting up, thickening as it became a tree, the tree became a forest, and his magic circuits opened, flooding his body with od. The girl began her muttering in that same second, and the shaman felt an unfamiliar energy attempt to force it's way into his body, only to be held back by the energy his magic circuits were producing. He stiffened, focused on it, and then directed the flood of his energies at the source of the invasion, forcing it back out.

A shrill scream rent the air as the young child whipped her arm back, clutching it in plain agony. Aaron leered, training his pistol on the child, only for an audible click to issue in response to his pulling the trigger. His expression twisting in annoyance, he swiped the butt of the weapon at her head, sending the child flying.

Koon frowned, raising his knife up as he prepared to begin his own onslaught.


Phalvin tucked and rolled to the side, preparing another balloon to launch against the Gator. Barely dodging the point of his spear, the shaft swept out in a line, sending the turtle flying through the air with a mild grunt. The empty rubber met his beaklike mouth, filling with energy and purpose as the turtle exhaled into it. Preparations complete, the turtle spun in midair, facing his opponent as he let it fly. The bizarre weapon hurtled forward, impacting against it's target with a dramatic explosion. Even so, Rak Wreckraiser pursued his prey undeterred.

"Softshell! Is this it?! If you can't even accomplish anything other than getting swatted aside, I'll crack open that shell of yours and end this game right now!"

Phalvin shuts his eyes, his mind flashing back, to the source of his hatred. A massive, happy spawn on a far off floor where the Shinsoo was thick. His parents had been lucky, the clutch of eggs that they had left behind was unexpectedly bountiful. Unlike most of the turtles that had returned with him, he was fortunate enough to have true blood related brothers and sisters. It had been a happy childhood. He was always the smallest, the most stunted. His larger siblings had always jokingly referred to him as "Gator Bait" due to how round and stunted he was, making an easy target.

Even so, he was happy back then.

Then, one day, the pod was migrating for the summer season to where the weather was warmer along a centuries old route. When they unexpectedly found a pack of ravenous giant humanoid alligators lying in wait.

It couldn't even be called a fight. The pod scattered, in hopes of preserving what numbers they could. But even though they numbered in the thousands, the dozen or so Wreckraisers tore through them like the scythe through wheat. Like fire through a dry field. Phalvin could only watch in horror as his parents charged forward to distract one of the hulking creatures, only to be impaled on it's spear.

He swam for his life after that. Some time later, as he felt himself slowly starving to death due to lack of experience with taking care of himself, he was given the gift of salvation. He eagerly grabbed the outstretched hand of the silent Guardian of the Tower, Headon, and became a Regular.

And here, right in front of him, stood his hated enemy.

He was so happy to get a chance to avenge his family. So grateful to the God of the Tower for this opportunity to make things right.

He would find every single one of these Wreckraisers. And he would kill. Them. All.


Aaron didn't have time to load his pistol. It could work as a makeshift club, but it would be ineffectual against Koon's vastly superior briefcase. Dismissing it back to his shadow, the shaman summoned his obsidian knife to replace it.

"Are you really that desperate to win this bonus game?" He inquired of the white haired boy facing him.

Koon simply grimaced in annoyance, his eyes never leaving Aaron, his hand slid into the bag, withdrawing a number of knives, which he tossed at the shaman. Aaron simply swatted them aside with his hatchet, sending them flying awkwardly through the air. The boy continued retreating, his back to where the Gator and Turtle were continuing their fierce struggle.

So I guess he's out of options, then. Aaron observed, disappointed, "Time to finish it, then." He charged forward, flooding the enhancement runes built into his clothes with prana. At his approach, Koon's eyes shifted back and forth, his expression neutral, analyzing.

Aaron had boxed him in with the earlier exchange, directly behind him was the battle between Phalvin and his opponent, and the shaman found it unlikely that the boy in front of him could run at that lightning pace backwards. Which left him with only two other avenues of escape, to the left and right. To Koon's left was the throne, and the protective charm around it. Impacting against it would end the fight immediately, as he already knew, and moving to his right would provide him little advantage other than some more space to run. A waste of time, considering the enhanced speed Aaron was now chasing him down with.

The shaman felt himself leering at his cornered prey, shifting his weight to leap at the boy as he turned to run. As expected, Koon turned, his back towards Aaron as he turned to run. An instant too late.

It was over.

Aaron leaped, leading with Timber Falls as he swung down at Koon's shoulder, planning on divesting the boy of his far, far too useful briefcase. The numerous uses he would put it towards were already filling the shaman's thoughts, when the boy simply continued turning, one hand holding the bag up, and the other lifting it's frontal flap in his direction. The boy looked at his opponent, victorious smirk blossoming.

"Eat it up. Manbarondena."

A black force poured out from the bag, sucking in the air in front of and around the shaman. In a moment of raw panic, Aaron twisted in midair, digging his heels into the ground. His posture was ruined, but he had escaped jumping directly into his opponent's trap.

As the two faced each other, they both wore an expression of shock. Manbarondena was still held open, continuing to greedily drink in everything else in front of it, a noticeable wind forming, as air was drawn into the vacuum of the accessory.

Aaron broke the silence first, "What the hell is that thing?!"

Koon remained silent, this time walking towards the shaman, clearly attempting to draw him into it's swirling depths. The boy wore an expression of grim determination, as Aaron resummoned his pistol, this time with one of his precious spare clips of ammunition. A sudden inhuman snarling was the only warning the shaman received as the cyan insect barreled into him from behind, sending him sprawling. Desperate, Aaron pushed the exposed torso of the creature off of him, wondering just where the hell it had come from, as he saw a slick trail of green ichor leading towards a puddle of the stuff, when the explanation suddenly fell into place.

"GENTLES!" Parakewl screamed, his voice high pitched and horrified.

Koon had been aiming to draw in the insect from the beginning. Koon had no desire to fight a prolonged close quarters engagement with him, as intent on preserving stamina for the next round as he had been. The moment Aaron had overturned his initial ambush by knocking out the child, Koon had already planned out a more certain trap. Allowing Aaron to corner him. Drawing Aaron in so that his back would be exposed to the insect creature at all times. Keeping him occupied so that the clash of steel on steel would keep him from noticing the stirs of the creatures return to consciousness. And when he sprung Manbarondena's trap, he had even hedged that Aaron would be able to counter that somehow, even if his shock at the shaman outright ignoring it's ranged suction effects had been real. All of that was to lead up to the certain kill of Aaron being drawn into this creatures pincers in the moment he was adjusting his stance.

That one moment of weakness.

That annoying smirk that looked down on him condescendingly. That annoying bastard looking down on him as he struggled messily upon the floor just to remain alive.

"Well, I guess we can just have the Black March bust open whatever trick you've set up. Or we can just use that axe's ignition to do the job." Koon bent his knees, crouching to get a better look at the shaman, "I doubt you'll be needing it after my friend here is done repaying you for that hole you opened up in him."

The Unsung Goby Master stood upon his throne, brandishing Foehammer threateningly, "Useless trash disciple! Get up! How dare you fail like this in front of me!"

The white haired boy rolled his eyes dismissively, "Honestly, I think I'm doing you a favor, killing off that annoying Goby for you. I don't even know him and I'm already sick of him."

Aaron grunted with exertion, a smile cracking his wooden features, "Sorry, but that one's mine."

Koon smirked, "It's almost a shame to kill you. I'd have liked to see what other tricks you have in that bag of yours."

A wooden chuckle, "Oh, I'm sure you'll see quite a bit more of me yet."

A frown, "Well, guess I'd better just make sure then."

A knife is grasped, "Then, you'd better make sure to cover those eyes of yours."

A panicked chittering, "What-?!"

And then a muffled explosion, as bits of green ichor violently spray out into the air, Koon holds up Manbarondena, as it drank up the liquid and insect bits greedily.

As Koon moved the bag away from in front of his face, his opponent had gotten back to his feet, waving a red tipped finger in front of himself.

"Still had some paint left."


Phalvin was gradually getting cornered. He could feel it. The Gator had ceased with his wide sweeps, and was now gradually herding him towards the wall of the arena. As much as Phalvin jumped, and as many balloons as he shot at his hated enemy, he simply was unable to overcome the Gator's far superior skill with his weapon, or his ability to literally ignore the concussive force of his balloon attacks.

Like hell imma let it end here! I'll kill him! I'll kill him and then I'll kill his family! Let him see how it feels! Fuck this guy!

The corners of his vision began to be dyed red, his fury reaching a boiling point. Phalvin didn't know what would happen when that time came, but he knew that there was something, something that lay on the other end of that point.

He just had to survive long enough to reach it.

But now, his lack of exercise came back to haunt him, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, until he found himself unable to dodge one of the Gator's stabs, and was sent flying back into the wall from the impact. The arena wall cracked from where his shell had slammed against it, and Phalvin shakily drew himself back up to his feet. Rak approached, his feet clacking against the floor.

"Hmph. Is that it, softshell? I expected more. It seems that I've had nothing but disappointment in my hunts so far today."

Phalvin drew himself up, glaring at the towering creature with an expression of pure hatred, "You…tell me just one thing."

Rak rested the shaft of his spear against his shoulder, gazing down his snout at the turtle in front of him, "Hmph. Speak."

Panting, Phalvin drew himself up to his full height, as insubstantial as it was, "You…You…just how many turtles have you eaten for that body of yours?!"

The Gator's expression froze, and then shifted into a sneer.

"Turtle. Do you count the number of breads that you've eaten?"

Oh. There it is.

"If you don't have anything else to add, softshell, then it's time to bring this hunt to an end." The Gator hefted his spear up, drawing it back in preparation to throw it.

So that's all we are to him. That's all my family was. This guy…This guy…This…Bastard!

"You put up a better fight than most, turtle. I'll be sure to savor that flavor." The Wrackraiser hurled the spear with all his strength, the weapon becoming a red streak of light as it sped towards Phalvin. The turtle did not move, except to tremble with rage, hatred, and despair.

"I'll kill you….I'll kill all of you..!"

The spear struck him, slamming the turtle against the wall and throwing up a cloud of dust where the arena wall further cracked from the impact.

"Phalvin! You useless trash!" Was Parakewl's only response, having spared the fight a glance now that his other disciple was no longer in immediate danger, "Don't you dare fail me before getting me to the next floor, you trash weakling turtle!"

The dust around the impact eventually began to dissipate, as Rak let out a snort of dismissal. He stalked forward to retrieve his prize.

"Hey foo'! Have this back!"

The dust cloud parted, as Rak's red spear was hurtled back towards him. The towering Gator caught it easily, turning back towards where the turtle was standing, his shell giving off an ethereal glow. He panted heavily, glaring defiantly, as the light dimmed and Phalvin's shell returned to it's regular waxy luster.

"…I suppose this hunt is not over yet, turtle." Rak snorted, tapping the shaft of his spear into an open claw.

"AAAAAAAAAND TEN MINUTES HAVE NOW ELAPSED!" Lero-ro's voice echoed through the arena, "And with the defending team still on the throne at the end of the Fourth Round, there will be one confirmed advancing team! The surviving team will be given priority placement in joining subsequent rounds once again!"

Rak turned towards the source of the voice, giving a light shrug at the interruption. His stare returned to the clearly winded Phalvin. Rak turned to the turtle, leveling his weapon at him.

"We finish this in the next round, softshell." The Gator turned, his cloak billowing dramatically, "Wash your neck." He walked towards his black haired team mate, joined shortly by Koon. Phalvin's murder-filled eyes followed the backs of the trio until they were obscured by the bars of their waiting room, his beak clenching hard enough to draw blood all the while. Finally, with a deep, shuddering sigh, he returned to the throne, where his own team mates were waiting.


"What the hell was that, you trash?!" Parakewl shrieked from his perch atop the throne, "Both of you almost died, leaving me to fail this game! How is this great me supposed to pass the rest of these tests without a team, huh?!"

The Shaman and the Turtle turned identical hate-filled glares towards the chamber where their foes had retreated to.

"It's a good thing the round ended when it did, you trash disciples!" Parakewl continued, "Both of you looked like you were on your last legs! And those other trash weren't even winded!" Parakewl stood up suddenly, leveling a finger at Aaron, "And [i]you![/i] What magic?! Why couldn't you handle a measly four Regulars, trash?! We've got the last round coming up, so everyone's going to rush to jump in! How do you plan on holding off a full five teams like that, Gentles, huh?!"

The shaman grimaced, "Sir, there's no problems with that. That barrier is powerful enough to easily repel two creatures at the strength of that Anak Zahard for the entire duration of the round." He paused, not seeing the Eternal Goby King's rage abate in the slightest before continuing, "I've been feeding it my od in between rounds so that it remains at full capacity. You have no need to worry." He bows haltingly towards his erstwhile Master, "Even if Phalvin and I should fall in the next round, the throne remains an impenetrable fortress for all intents and purposes. This Crown Game is already your victory."

Parakewl sneered, doubt and annoyance crossing his features, as he stared at the well-dressed man before him, who had by some miracle avoided staining his clothes with the ichor of the insect creature he had exploded from right on top of him. His gaze flickered on his would be disciple, searching. He apparently found what he was looking for, as he leaned back, and swept his arm out regally, "Very well, Gentles. Do not fail me."

The shaman bowed once more, the floor filling his vision, "As you command, Master."


Ship Lee Soo stared out in wonder at the scene that had unfolded before his eyes.

"Those guys are doing really good…They almost cornered that faceless guy and the turtle just now." His gaze shifted, turning towards his teammate, "What're you going to do if, at this rate, they really do win…Anak?"

The Zahard's Princess simply stared, her expression pensive.

There were other monsters that had yet to take their turn at taking the crown, after all.


Koon stares off into space, his expression twisted in frustration. "This is bad."

"Mr. Koon…?" Baam replies, his tone hesitant, "What do you mean? I thought you and Mr. Rak did a great job."

Koon shakes his head in negation, "That's not it. We were supposed to take the crown from those guys this round." He runs his hand through his hair roughly, rattled, "I pretty much showed all my cards to try and get that faceless bastard to hand over the throne and his barrier trick over to us." He turns to face his black-haired friend, "Baam, I don't have any more teams waiting to back us up. And since we don't control the throne, that means that you'll be out there, in danger."

He shakes his head again, and stares outside the bars of their new cage, "This situation…is bad. Especially since we'll not only be fighting the faceless bastard, but four other teams. One of which is the Regulars from the other district for sure."

Rak snorts, and levels a measuring glare at his teammate, "Scamming turtle, where is your banana? If we have five sets of enemies, then all that means is that we have five times the prey." The towering gator looks away, his gaze turned towards the throne as well, "So what if they have seen all your tricks and traps? You've seen the faceless turtles as well. All this means…" And at this, Rak Wreckraiser turns his gaze back towards his comrades, "Is that we now have nothing to hold back."

Baam nods in agreement, "That's right, Mr. Koon. I'm not afraid of fighting. And with your help, and Mr. Rak's, and Black March's, there's no way that we won't win this game. I mean, no matter how strong the other teams are, there's no way they're as strong as us or Mr. Aaron's team, right?"

Koon stares at his friend, measuring his steady, determined gaze, before sighing and placing his hands behind his head, "Yeah…you're right." His tension disappears, as his gaze returns to the throne, a confident smirk forming again on his face, "All we have to do…is take the crown, after all. Can't be that hard, can it?"


In another cell, a cloaked girl raised her arms above her head, stretching them,"Mhmmmmmm! Well, that was fun to watch." She turned back towards her companions, one a colossal figure that easily dwarfed even the Wreckraiser, and the other was shorter than even that fake Anak Zahard.

"Guess we should be getting ready to go out, right?"

The giant rumbled his assent, while tiny figure gave a tiny nod, before slowly getting to her feet.

"Ummm…Actually," She said, her voice a light, nasally tremble, "There was something that I was wondering if we can do…if you don't mind…"

The taller girl grins at her, nodding confidently.

The shorter girl shuffles up to the bars, and looks out across the arena, her pale yellow eyes searching. As she gazes out sadly, she mouths a single word.

"…Baam…"


A.N.: Huh, so Gators are his trigger. Shoulda seen that coming.

This Chapter took a bit longer for me to write than I expected, since there's just a lot that I needed to set up for future chapters, and also I needed to hammer out some inconsistencies that had sprung up, so I'll be going over previous chapters sometime this week to iron that out and neaten them up. I'd originally just decided to upload the first few chapters from a fiction thread for ToG over on Batoto, and there's a fair bit of difference in the standards between a random lark and a serious project.

Still, 2000 views is pretty humbling. I'm still kinda amazed that my first work got so many views, and that's thanks to all you guys who've taken the time to read this chapter. I truly thank you for taking the time to read this small work of mine.

Speaking of which, as of the moment I'm writing this, I just finished reading the epilogue of Gabriel Blessings incredible In Flight fic. Its really the cream of the crop of Fate/stay night fics. So I'm just gonna lay this out here, since I've got the chance for now:

Shirou Emiya will not appear in this story for a long, long time. Aaron Gentles is most definitely an Original Character in the vein of the Nasuverse, with a few minor alterations to make him more of a threat with his magecraft, and thus opportunity to grow to keep pace with those who climb the Tower. But this is first and foremost a F/SN and ToG crossover. People always seem to gravitate towards the Emiya household in one way or another when writing most fics, or maybe reference the occasional Zelretch trolling.

But the Nasuverse is a lot bigger than that, you know?

Well, for now, I'm going to give Season 1 the same treatment SIU did, and slowly introduce you all to the Tower as seen by Aaron Gentles. I've got the plot more or less set in stone, so now all I have to do is make sure that my skills are up to the task. A friend of mine recommended to me that I take a look at some R.A. Salvatore books before writing the next chapter, and his books are apparently highly recommended for their action scenes, so Ill definitely see if I can't pick up some tricks.

Those already familiar with Round 5 now just how much of a clusterfuck lies ahead, after all.

So for now I'll lay down my pen, and I look forward to seeing you all next time.

Still though, that was a close call. It's a good thing that Mary Sues are invincible and perfect, aren't they?