The Kingdom of Scavia #7

 Almost in an instant, the atmosphere of the banquet turned quite sour. Stephen had sat back down, not on the chair he used to eat with his family, but a fancier one about three meters from the right edge of the arena. His wife was beside him, holding his hand.

The difference in his aura and attitude was shocking to most, considering he was very jolly, but now he was staring down at them all with royal dignity.

The soldiers he had summoned passed onto them their equipment, the same weapons they had relinquished. However, only wands and weapons were given back, like shields and swords, but not armor. The latter being intentional.

“Good,” Stephen nodded, getting another nod from Kaiser, almost for confirmation. He looked around him; the Heros gathered around in front of him. “You all seem to have grown in the five months you’ve been summoned.”

“Thank you for your kind words, your majesty,” Tsukiko answered, the king smiling back at her.

“Now,” Stephen stood up, “Your task is simple; show me everything you are capable of. Mages and Magicians exit the arena and wait for further instructions.” He said simply, the silence proceeding it was being numbingly quiet.

“What’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.”

The mages did so, following without question, only muttering amongst themselves as they did. King Stephen then turned to the warriors left on the rectangular border, the remaining students mostly waiting with nervous anticipation.

Akiro glanced over his shoulder, finding Ayama looking around too wary. Nine of the twenty-four were mages, and three were healers, leaving only twelve in the rectangle.

King Stephen raised his right hand, and Akiro’s senses were alerted. “Akiko, paladin, weapons: Chained-flail and shield; Yaso, archer, Weapons: Bow, crossbow, arrows, and bolts–” He observed, cold sweat dripping from his forehead, but Stephen lowered his hand.

“Fight.”

The realization dawned on some, while others stared at the king or each other numbly.

It was only the deep-pitched cackle of their most-infamous peer that awakened them to the situation, “I see now….” Masashi chuckled, his large shoulder rolling with amusement, his spiked gauntlets clutching his stomach, “A free for all!”

Clang!

The larger male clapped, his armored hands ringing loudly on impact, “Well?” He taunted the others, “Are we going to fight or what?!” Masashi’s eyes traveled through the other eleven, his eyes resting on Akiro, his pupils turning red with magic power.

“Damn it! He’s asking us to fight each other!” Akiro gulped, his grip on the scythe’s shaft tightening, “In a free-for-all!?” He cursed, turning around in a collected panic, “I need to see everyone–”

But a heavy weight suddenly pressed on Akiro's shoulders, interrupting his thoughts and prompting the assassin to stiffen his legs. “Fuck– why me?!” he cursed, watching as the Berserker crouched, ready to charge.

He shifted his grip on the shaft, turning his body sideways, his left side facing Masashi. Akiro lifted the scythe in the air, ready to react to any moves Masashi would make. “Damn it–”

The magic burst from Msashi’s skin, seeping out in fiery red streams, and at his charge, the grounds crumbled underneath his initial step.

Crack!

But when he sprinted, the wind before him formed a cone, his magic power solidifying into a shape. “[ Bull Rush ]” he channeled, “Die!—”

“[ Shield Charge ]” However, to Akiro’s total surprise, the raging arrow of red was interrupted, by a brilliant stream of yellow-like white, coming from Ayama, no less.

Bam!

The impact of the surprising blow knocked Masashi from the attack, his trajectory altered, and his skill was canceled. “---Gah!” The bully cried in pain and annoyance as he fell on his side, only to recover by rolling back to his feet. “What gives!?” He demanded from Ayama.

The blonde responded by drawing the longsword hanging on his waist, “I will be your opponent.” He replied simply, huffing at the man while also sending Akiro a sideways wink, much to the other's silent appreciation. “You should watch your back more often, Masashi.”

Masashi frowned, but his eyes swerved to the right, seeing something. He turned back to Ayama with a smirk, “Oh yeah? What about yours?”
“Back-stabbing— ” Akiko jumped in the air, her chained flail whirring overhead. The paladin frowned with annoyance, and she opened her mouth to curse Ayama. “[ DownStrik—]”

But she was intercepted by a swift mid-air back kick, landing on her abdomen. “Gah!” She croaked, sent flying out of bounds by the combined momentum.

King Stephen promptly called out the elimination. “Onishi Akiko, out.”

“He will–” Ayama pointed behind him with a thumb, “We always have each other’s backs.”

Back to back, Ayama and Akiro grinned at the ones in front of them. They were now in the center of the arena, their flanks free of threats and either their fronts covered. The acquired sense of safety allowed them to finally calm themselves and think clearly.

“Okay, let’s think this through.” Akiro huffed, systematically breathing in and out, “Thanks to Ayama flinging Masashi towards the front and me knocking out Akiko– We’ve only got to deal with eight more people in total.”

Akiro looked in front of him, the other hero staring back with equal apprehension, “But the problem is that they’re all in front of me.” He noted. “Kenji, Tanker, Weapons: Double-Shields; Yamazaki, Martial Artist, Weapon: gauntlets and leg pads; Nishimura, Samurai, Weapon: Nodachi, Katana, and tanto; Haruto, High Knight, Weapon: Longsword, shortsword and shield; Matsuko, Alchemist; Teramoto, Ninja; Ryuta, Tamer– I can’t see their weapons— That’s troubling.”

“Hey, are you okay back there?” Ayama said, “I can handle Masshi alone, but what about you? Are you sure you can handle them?”

“I can,” Akiro responded, wishing that the free-for-all would proceed in their favor. “Hopefully, at least. I hope they start fighting against each other.”

Akiro sighed, smirking back at them, “Why, Ayama, are you worried about me?” he asked, nudging Ayama with an elbow, to which the latter only scoffed.

“I’m more worried about what you’re going to do to them,” He thought grimly, “No, not really.”

“Ouch,” Akiro feigned pain, rolling his eyes as he did. The assassin gathered his hands on the center of his spear, “Well, it doesn't matter,” He said, twirling it around with perfect dexterity before raising it high in the air with his right hand—

Shing!

—and slashing a shallow line on the arena floor, bisecting the rectangle in half. “Because if they cross this line, I’ll kill ‘em,” Akiro muttered softly, sending shivers down their spine.

On the opposite half of the rectangle, facing the backs of the other eight heroes, Kaiser jumped from his seat at the familiar sight. “T-Those eyes!” Kaiser gasped, his expression turning grave for a second, “He… He has been killed before.”

Amidst his inner turmoil, a gentle hand tugged on his clothing, “There is nothing we can do about it now.” Sebastian shook his head understandingly, “This world is a cruel place, and it has forced him to sit back down.

“So you’re teaming, huh?” Masashi grumbled, nursing his injured side, “The bone wasn’t broken. Was he going easy?” “That’s pretty low, and I’m not going to lie.”

“Save the trash-talk for after you beat me, Mash’” Ayama replied quickly, brushing off the feeble attempt at provocation.

“Well, if you say so.” The berserker relented, sighing as he did. He stretched his fists outward before slowly jumping on the tips of his feet. “Hey, would you believe me if I was turning a new leaf?”

Ayama watched him enter a boxing stance, his shoulders square and his arms raised, alternating between punches, jabs, and uppercuts. The blonde shook his head, “Unlikely, but not impossible.” he replied, twirling the longsword before pointing it at him after he sensed the underlying mischief in his tone. “Why?”

Masashi slowly advanced, taking half-steps, while Ayama started walking too, “Well, you’d be surprised. After all, I worked hard to make amends.”

“Only a fool would believe that.” Ayama spat back, now barely an arm's reach from the berserk.

“Haruto is that fool.” He answered back, looking over Ayama’s shoulder, “Haruto! Help me!”

“There is no way–” Ayama turned, looking over his shoulder, and Masashi crossed the distance, his fist aiming for his head.

“[Iron Talon]! —Go to hell!”

Bam!

Shink!

“---Ack– Fuck!” Masashi grumbled, leaping back a few steps, “That didn’t work.” he groaned, his left side bleeding from a shallow stab. “You fucker–”

Ayama licked the slow trickle of blood from his left temple, the scratch bleeding lightly. “I’m not an idiot, Masashi, so try that again, and my sword will stab you again.”

Stephen blinked a wry smile slowly forming on his face. “Impressive awareness, Ayama-kun.” He praised silently, “He used his shield to redirect Masashi’s [Iron Talon] away from his head while also positioning his sword in the perfect place for Masashi-kun to walk into– considering he has to close the distance for his arms to reach.”

“This is interesting, very interesting.” Stephen thought, “Very promising indeed. How about Akiro-san? My expectations of him are just as high.”

Akiro tapped the shaft of his weapon rhythmically, staring down his peers, who began to shuffle around. The silence they shared was filled with shifting hands and turning heads, someone waiting for anyone to make a move.

“After Masashi called for help, they’re acting strangely.” Akiro thought, “Are they going to help? After Ayama finishes him off, we can deal with these guys together.”

The assassin hummed thoughtfully, keeping his eyes still on the crowd in front of him. While in thought, his train of thought was stopped by someone he hoped wouldn’t step in.“Sure, it would take less time if I jump in to help him now, but these guys might attack us from behind, just like Akiko-san–”

“Are we going to leave them to their own devices?”

“Oh fuck,” Akiro cursed, “Don’t tell me– Haruto is planning to help?”

By far the most popular guy in their class, Akiro has known in his entire school life, started to speak, and just like how he was before they transferred, he spoke the truth while weaving a sense of righteousness.

“Surely the great King didn’t intend us to just fight, indiscriminately harming each other!” Haruto explained, “We’re heroes! We’ve been entrusted with the future peace of the human race. We need to think deeper about his highness’s words!”

“It sounds far-fetched but logical at the same time.” Akiro agreed silently, “As he said, we’re supposed to lead and protect, so why is he pitting us against each other?”

But then realization struck him and Haruto at the same time.

“His Highness is looking for how we will conduct ourselves when we’re placed in a chaotic situation! We’re not mindless beasts but humans capable of coherent thought and civility!” The popular boy explained, much to the brightness of his closest classmates.

Akiro turned around, looking at King Stephen and Sume, who shared the same smile. Looking at Kaiser, he, too, wore an expression. “He’s right. Their faces say it all. Haruto was spot on.” Akiro felt a pit in his stomach, his heart dropping into it, “Think, Think!--- Oh no.”

Looking back, Akiro thought back to their discussion, back at the map room. This was not just a simple free-for-all but a simulation exercise. Like in the map, they were analogies of humans uniting in a difficult and chaotic time.

Their ability to stay collected and to think coherently in times of difficulty was the test! Not them fighting each other; after all, it was not his explicit words. But with that, the problem at hand was now grave for the two.

“So that’s how it is…” Akiro berated himself for his foolishness because now that they’ve acted with hostility, they were the enemy in this scenario. “We’re the bad guys now.”

“We need to save Masashi! That’s our objective! We need to take care of each other while also standing against our enemies!”

“And now our fates are sealed.” Akiro frowned, clicking his tongue as he did so. “But Masashi attacked first, and we responded accordingly! This isn’t fair!”

Murmurs started to rise, and nodding heads soon followed. It wasn’t surprising now that Yaso spoke up first. “You heard the guy! Let’s go save Masashi’s skin!” She gleefully smiled, pulling back on the bowstring, an arrow loaded on the crest.

Twang!

The string recoiled, sending the arrow into the air at great speed, but even at its velocity, it looked slow and manageable due to Akiro's acute vision. The assassin turned the weapon in his hand, using the broad side of the blade to block the arrow coming from his shoulder.

Clang!

The arrow shattered into pieces upon impact, both from the combined power of his swing and its speed. But Akiro blocked his vision with that move, and when the dust had settled, Teramoto and Nishimura had made their way to him.

They were hunched over, leaning forward with their weapons held behind, for their strange posture gave them extra speed by lowering the amount of drag they experienced.

“A double attack!”

“Ha!” Hitomi bellowed, lunging at him with a large jump, both her arms holding the Nodachi overhead for a deciding, downward blow. Meanwhile, Toshio kept close to the ground, his right arm stretched forward with a kunai in hand. In a split second, Akiro looked at the attack and decided, using instinct, to act instead of his head; and he raised his weapon with only one hand to block.

Pang!

“Gotcha!” The edge of her sword landed against the staff of his weapon. Hitomi grinned as she landed with both her feet, cheering, “You could block that— urk!” But Akito twisted his wrist, letting the sword travel down, deflected. Her sword pressed against the cutting edge of his scythe, so she looked up to see him looking back with a cold, unnerving stare.

“Agh!” Her partner screamed, and she gasped only when she looked down, seeing Toshio’s wrist firmly gripped by Akiro’s other hand.

“W-What!--” She wondered, jumping back from the lock. “He managed to block both of us!?”

Crunch!--Pow!

At that, Akiro sent his left knee upwards, following it with a front kick, breaking the Ninja’s elbow, and sending him out of bounds while he let out a blood-curdling scream.

“Aggh! M-My arm!”

“Toshi!” Sebastian gasped, rushing over to him.

King Stephen was quick to disqualify him, too, “Teramoto Toshio, out.”

Akiro gripped the scythe with his left hand, using the speartip the blacksmith had added to force distance, “Seven.” he counted, thrusting four times with the spear, but Hitomi blocked each one with the broadside of her blade, each blow knocking her back a step.

Ch-Chi-Chi-Ching!

“Y-Yaso-chan! Now!!” Hitomi gasped, effectively holding Akiro in place. With a push of her sword, she raised her hands for more strength, pushing Akiro back a half-step.

The archer smirked, letting the arrow go. “[ Sharp-shot ]!”

But he wouldn’t allow that to happen, “[ Sprint ]!” He invoked, closing the distance between him and the samurai to a hair breath, the arrow grazing his ear as he did.

Pow!

“I-I missed!?” The archer glowered, and a thud could be heard from where Hitomi stood, where she lay unconscious. In anger she pulled another arrow from her quiver, loading the bow.

Twang!

But Akiro dodged back to his original position, counting down once more. “Six.”