I think this is the most exciting chapter I've done so far.
Sorry shippers, you'll have to read and find out. Maybe.
Thanks for the reviews though~ It makes me a very happy Orange.
Edit: a very happy GPS.
Disclaimer: I don't own KnB. I can only wish.
Chapter 6: Tournament & Forfeit
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Kuroko has accepted your friend request.
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Aomine Daiki made his way toward the Fighter's city, Verran.
It's been about ten minutes since he and his companions had split ways from the central town. As of now, he was nearing a wood-and-stone city and could start to make out the various sounds of chatter and clamor coming from the players in the area.
The blue-haired man entered the gates and trailed along one of the paved paths toward the town square. He wanted to get his level two class upgrade quickly.
He was pretty (more like extremely) ecstatic about this game. For years, he's been an avid gamer, going through just about every video and computer game he could find. He quickly found out that none were nearly as satisfying as Virtual Realities.
The Warrior remembered when, just a few months ago, he'd been playing another popular VR game, Teiko Revolution Online–which, by the way, is said to be KWO's predecessor. Both were made by the same company.
At the time of its release, which was sometime around four years ago, it too had rose up and gathered a great deal of popularity. Aomine, having been fifteen at the time (the minimum legal age to be able to access the program), had been one of the many thousands of people waiting in the first line to get his hands on a copy. Teiko Revo (the fan's nickname for the game)had been an MMORPG similar to Kiseki World in many aspects, though it couldn't match up at all when compared closely.
Aomine could feel it; the difference was in the swing of his sword.
A few months ago, when KWO had been officially announced to the world, the videogame community flew into hysterical, chaotic frenzy. When the game actually came out, about a fifth of TRO's entire gaming population had quit, so as to expend all their time playing Kiseki World.
Another week or two after (which leads to the time now), about half had left.
For good.
No one could blame them though. The difference between the two games were two extreme. The features of Kiseki World Online were too realistic and vivid and just downright exhilarating. The senses one could feel were just too potent to be able to put down the VR helmet. The only thing that could stop the most dedicated of players was the automatic log-out that occurred every seven hours.
Aomine himself would have loved to start playing earlier, but he was merely a normal college student. He had taken up several more part-time jobs, and, after two or three months of balancing that with school, rent, and TRO (he had to say his final goodbyes to that world being the loyal fanboy he was), he finally managed to scrape up enough saved-up cash to buy it.
And oh did he love it.
Here, in this reality, he could release his full potential.
Unlike in TRO, Kiseki World had a system that based your stats off the real world. The skills here weren't only limited to what the creators made, one could integrate their own styles and techniques into game play. And best of all:
The magic.
Traditionally, most games of any kind didn't allow Warrior type characters to have magic other than the simplest of simple. Swordsmen were purely contact fighters, according to the game makers.
Kiseki World had something called "elements". For Fighters, they weren't long-range missiles or AOEs, they were manipulable add-ons capable of dramatically shifting the weight in a fight.
And what a difference they made.
The tan-skinned man had seen it through videos on the internet. It was pretty damn invigorating (not his words–most of his words were a max of three syllables) to see flames surrounding a sword or an axe instead of a staff or wand.
Aomine had always wondered what it'd be like to be able to use magic. He could've simply become a Mage, but he simply just loved cutting down foes way too much to. And he didn't do support. Ever.
Finally, he arrived in the Warrior's haven that was Verran. Now that he was here, he could see what a Swordsman's magic was like with his very own eyes, and feel what it entailed through his own hands.
Right after a class upgrade.
He continued on into the city, into the crowded town square when he suddenly heard:
"Step right up! Come join our third weekly Fighter's Tournament! The winner will win a hefty sum of prize money, as well as a special, unique item. All players level 15 to 20 are eligible to try their hand at winning riches and glory. It only costs a sum 5,000 ladomi to enter! "
The NPC had Aomine at "tournament".
Momentarily forgetting about his class change, the blue-haired man hurriedly strode up to a large panel where he could register for the battles, which were scheduled to start in the next six minutes.
While waiting, he read the overview and guild lines.
Let's see… For each round, half the participants will drop out… blah blah blah… five minute time limit… magic is allowed… yada yada… man… she has a nice rack…
And Aomine Daiki is officially distracted.
To reiterate the rules and guide line in a basic manner though:
1. Each round, the total amount of participants will be cut in half. When the number starts getting lower, participants are put into three-way matches until eight are left. Then the cutting in half commences once more.
2. If no one is killed during the five-minute time limit, the winner is the one with more HP in relativity to their full amount of HP. Players will not regenerate HP while fighting.
3. Magic attacks and skills are allowed. Potions and other similar items, however, are not.
4. When the tournament starts, participants will be sent to a randomized fighting plain, which will most likely vary from round to round.
5. After each match, a player HP and MP will be healed to the max.
All matches would also be broadcasted on cyber panels that the audience could choose from to watch.
According to the number of listed participants (which was still growing), there would be about two-thousand matches to start off the first round.
Aomine was pumped. While he loved hacking at monsters, the best challenge was always a good old PVP.
The signal sounded.
"All Fighter Tournament participants will now be transported to a random dueling plain. If you wish to drop out of the tournament, please do so now."
5…
4…
3…
2…
1…
0!
"The tournament has officially started!"
The Warrior grinned as his body disappeared, and he closed his eyes as his vision started to fade to white.
When the blue-haired man opened his eyes, he was standing on a wide, grassy plain. His first opponent appeared as well, some thirty meters away.
"The match will begin in three seconds."
Aomine got ready to charge.
2…
He gripped his sword a little tighter.
1…
His eyes glowed with anticipation.
0!
"Start!"
Aomine shot forward like a bullet, his feet leaving deep depressions in the dirt he had uncovered with his aggressive run.
His enemy, a level 18 player with the username of "InfernoBlade" stood with a flamberge in his gloved hands.
This dude is too cliché…
In the span of two seconds, the tan-skinned man reached his target, who had an dumb-struck look on his slightly rounded face.
Aomine swung his blade down and diagonally, cutting into InfernoBlade's shoulder and grazing rest of his torso, leaving a bloody red line in its wake.
[-1634 HP, InfernoBlade: {3766/5400}]
While letting out a pained groan, the other player jumped back before more damage could be done.
But of course, Aomine wouldn't just leave it at that. No, no , no. He was in this tournament to fight to his heart's content, and no one would be able to stop him. Perhaps he would even win, who knows?.
Again, the blue-haired man leapt towards his opponent, who seemed more ready to block this time. When the tanned man attacked–the same way as before–InfernoBlade raised his flamberge into a defensive positing.
Sadly for him, the other's long sword never made the contact he expected it would.
While in the middle of his swing, Aomine had stopped it, and instead spun around the other way, slicing him deep in his gut.
[-2078 HP, InfernoBlade: {1688/3766}]
The wounded warrior gave out a furious roar, desperately letting out a long combo attack in an effort to gain some leverage in this losing battle.
... Only to have the bluenette dodge and his sword meet the air each time. Sweat began dripping from his face, having been exhausted by his futile onslaught attempts.
In a final, systemated move, the blue-haired man's long sword slashed through the other, effectively ending his misery. He broke into a mass of pixels, regenerating back into the town square.
And Aomine–
–He stood, victorious.
"Round 1 Match 147, Winner: Aomine, Time: 00:27"
The tall man waited for his next duel.
Hopefully, I'll get a stronger opponent.
The time for the next match could not have come more slowly, as least to his impatient mind.
"The match will begin in three seconds."
.
.
.
"Start!"
This time, Aomine's opponent was a female player–a level 17 Dragoon. Her username identified her as "Misuzu". The man guessed she was around her early twenties, judging by her fresh, unwrinkled face and supple bosom.
Okay, just kidding about that last part. Aomine wasn't stupid enough to anger a woman right before a fight. He had (and still does) with Momoi, and he hasn't won a single one.
The pair of Fighters both rushed each other, meeting in the middle on their sandy battlefield.
Two swords crossed, and a loud "clang" resounded from them as they struck one another.
Aomine grinned a little. This woman was at least proving more skillful than the last guy.
Both jumped back a bit, though Aomine quickly closed the distance again. He found a small hole in her defense, and took a fencing lunge towards it.
[-813 HP, Misuzu: {3587/4400}]
It seemed like crying out in pain wasn't optional. The male Warrior felt kinda bad about it, even if it's what matches like this dictated.
Misuzu quickly recovered though; the virtual blood dripping from her side soon stopped its flow and she began attacking once more.
In the space between them, the iron blades crossed once again. This time, however, Aomine felt a dull pain vibrate through his right arm.
[-205 HP, Aomine: {6995/7200}]
"Why do you have so much HP?", she commented to herself more than asked, before shuffling back once again.
Wait, what? Her sword was right there…
That was when he noticed it. On his arm where he felt the most pain, sharp thorns were embedded, though they disappeared the next second.
What did sh–!
His sentence was left unfinished as Misuzu charged forward, intending to kill if she could.
The bluenette took a few steps back, but then he felt something coil around his ankle. Within the next moment, he fell onto his back.
The Dragoon woman jumped up high above him and made use of the gravity bonus, grounding her sword straight through his abdomen.
…Gah!… shit, that hurts.
[-957 HP, Aomine: {6038/7200]
Around the blue-haired Warrior's left ankle was a small, thick vine sprouted from the sandy ground.
A Magic-user. Plant Magic.
Though he was still currently pinned to the ground, Aomine took a swing at the female player, who withdrew herself and her sword for a second.
It was all he needed.
Taking advantage of that time, the tanned-skin man cut the vine and followed the woman as she tried to run.
She gritted her teeth as they collided. This time, and this time, Aomine decided to get more serious.
He put more strength into his push against her, their weapons both moving toward her direction. She took a step back. He took a step forward.
Then Aomine felt that pain in his arm. This time though, he realized what the source was.
He hadn't been paying attention before, but this time he saw the Dragoon's left hand face his way. The small thorns she used were shooting from her fingertips. Overall, it wasn't a very strong skill, but it was good for making the opponent lose their grip or focus.
The male Warrior shifted his sword to block the rest of the pesky projectiles as they shot toward him.
Now, he started to push with the majority of his strength, knocking the other's blade right out of her hands.
Misuzu's sword flew far away; in front of Aomine, she was now defenseless.
The woman tried to scramble for her sword, but the other had decided that now would be the time to end the match. He was much faster than her, evidently shown by his reaching her sword before she could.
He positioned his sword to use one of his skills, "perforate", which was a single stab with a concentrated attack power and a small shockwave around it.
In a single, powerful thrust with his blade, Misuzu returned to the town square.
"Round 2 Match 8, Winner: Aomine, Time: 01:04"
This pattern went on for the majority of the bluenette Warrior's battles. Some were stronger than others, some more skillful, and some smarter, yet he always won.
Aomine himself knew it.
He was constantly getting more powerful. Faster. More knowledgable. This game's system allowed that. No, it wasn't that his opponents were weak, it was simply that he was strong. No matter what the enemy was, whether a Swordsman or Brawler, fire or water element, he felt like he could take them all on.
Before long and before he'd noticed it, it was time for the final round of the tournament.
The spectators outside the secluded arena cheered as they saw the last two participants appear in their battlefield.
"Final Round, Aomine vs. Murasakibara!"
Aomine looked at his last opponent for this tournament. The dude before this one was strong. Maybe not enough to beat Aomine, but he was close. Extremely so.
And so, he thought, "this one must be even better."
For this round, he would be duking it out against a Beserker class Warrior. One who was intimidatingly tall, though not really intimidating to him.
"Damn. You're huge."
The 6'10 man's violet eyes looked lazily in his direction. His shoulder-length purple hair fluttered lightly in the wind.
"I'm hungry…"
"The match will begin in three seconds."
Aomine got into fighting position: knees slightly bent, sword somehow gripped both tightly and loosely, eyes trained on the man before him.
"Start!"
The other man's disinterest disappeared, replaced by a sterner expression. It seems they could each see the other as serious opponents.
He blocked Aomine's first attack, but the other's long sword pulled back with inhumane speed and slashed him; he seemed to not care even as crimson liquid started to drip down his sides.
[-573 HP, Murasakibaka: {12827/13400}]
"Holy shit! What did you have to eat to get these stats."
The other brought his broadsword down in reply.
The blue-haired man's sword met his, tiny sparks flying in between the two beginner weapons.
"Oh fuck, shit, fuck fuck fuck."
The man in front of him now grabbed his weapon with both hands; Aomine could now feel himself being overpowered, even as he used his full strength. At least he was putting up a fight though.
When the strain became too much for his arms, the tan-skinned man escaped backwards with a powerful leap. The broadsword of his enemy clanked loudly and broke through the rock of the terrain they were in.
Deciding he couldn't beat him in a battle of strength, Aomine tried a different approach. Instead of facing his enemy and charging dead-on like before, he croached low and dived in, attacking from the side and below where the Berserker had a blind spot.
Though the other was clearly stronger than he was, Aomine had the advantage of his speed and technique.
He danced around the other, the two exchanging blows all the way.
By now, they were starting expand upon their systemated skills, though they could never catch the other head-on enough to do any real damage.
Soon, even Murasakibara was moving. Surprisingly to the bluenette, he was actually pretty fast for such a big guy.
The battle had been going on for around six minutes (the final round got unlimited time). By now, the blood was pretty much spilled everywhere on their bodies and both players were starting to sweat and breathe faster, though neither was letting up at all.
The purple-headed man was now openly attacking, lunging with the ferocity of a charging bull against the smaller man's long sword.
It was then that a small "ping!" sounded out to him.
With one look at the message that just appeared, the ferocious monster in front of Aomine calmed back into the apathetic man from before the beginning of their duel. The smaller Fighter stood, confused as to why.
"Sorry Mine-chin. Have to go. We can finish our match some other time."
"Wait wha–"
But before he knew what was going on, the Beserker had already forfeited the match.
"Final Round, Winner: Aomine, Time: 06:18"
{Aomine has won the Beginner's Fighter Tournament!}
{Aomine has obtained: Unique Item, 1,000,000 ladomi}
The Warrior materialized back in the town. Though he was happy he won, he was unsatisfied by the way the match ended.
The spectators were as well, so he ran to Verran's Town Hall.
Oh well. What's done is done. What was that guy's name again? Musa… Muramaha…Maramero… Goddamnit brain!
He discarded his efforts to remember Murasakibara's name, instead remembering something else.
His weapon.
He opened up his inventory.
"Equip {Hakua}"
"..."
"..."
"..."
Is this a joke? Some kinda weird glitch?
In his rough, calloused hand, instead of some amazing, majestic, awesome-tastic sword like he thought it'd be, what materialized was… just a sword hilt.
Aomine studied it round-and-round, wondering if it was perhaps some sort of light saber with a button somewhere. Or maybe it was a cool invisible sword.
Nope.
No button.
No blade.
Just a handle.
And he sighed.
Oh well. At least I still have the money.
And so, Aomine, with Hakua still in hand, proceeded with his level 2 class change; He had no clue that the weapon would shape the near future of his game play, indefinitely.
Kiseki World Online: Log-in and Log-out.
The game is made in a way that anyone who plays for eight hours straight will be automatically ejected into the real world regardless of what they're doing. This is to prevent people from dying of things like hunger or exhaustion. If a person takes less than a thirty minute break logging in and out, it'll still count as eight hours. Before the eight hours, the person gets three warnings. One at the five hour mark, one at seven, and one at seven and thirty minutes. Once a player is ejected, they aren't allowed to log in for another hour. Repeat offenders get two hours.
Also, if a person's physical body is injured, the ejection will occur.
Safety, people.
So how was it? Am I terrible at fight scenes?
I'm already making the characters so OP, but just wait til the future.
All criticism and feedback is welcome~