The Primal Hunter 11, page 5
Requirements: Any Humanoid Race. New Blood Colosseum Rank.
The armor was pretty well made but also simple. It was functional over everything else, too, and while not perfect, definitely better than nothing. Plus, it didn’t affect Jake’s movements at all after he made a few light modifications, such as leaving a few cuts around the joints and stuff. He wasn’t planning on taking many hits with it either way.
As for why he hadn’t opted for his katars or bigger melee weapons… Well, weight was now suddenly a problem he had to consider. Plus, swapping weapons was harder now, as he didn’t have any spatial storage. Katars were great weapons when magic was involved, but they took some time to put on if he had to switch from his bow mid-fight. No, a sheathed knife was way faster there. Sure, maybe he could have tried to go with a hidden blade or something too, but a knife seemed like the simplest and easiest option. Plus, this would be for the first fights, which he predicted to be relatively easy.
Needless to say, Jake would have preferred to use his own stuff, but he would have to settle with whatever the dungeon would provide him. Again, he understood why it worked like this, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t complain about it internally.
Jake had tried to pull out his Eternal Hunger. The mythical item was in a weird position, in that it was both merged with his soul but also a piece of equipment, so he didn’t know if that would be gone. His attempt had ended with him only pulling out a bit of curse energy while mentally draining himself significantly. He had wanted to continue practicing, but something told him that should he even manage to summon Eternal Hunger, his entire body would explode from its energy, wasting a life.
Having low stats seriously sucked for any and all kinds of experimenting and imposed several annoying limitations. What made it all worse was that Jake’s mana and stamina pools were both so damn low now, and it wasn’t like Jake had potions to quickly regenerate them, so he had to be a bit careful with wasting energy outside of fights.
Speaking of fights, he and Owen were both making their way back toward the Battlemaster to begin their first bouts.
“We should go sign up to battle at the same time,” Owen said with a smile.
“No, let me go first, and you can observe, okay?” Jake said.
Yeah, he was not falling into that trap. It would be very cliché and kind of fucked up if he would meet someone nice and friendly, spend time getting to know him, and sign up to battle at the same time, only to face him in a duel, forcing Jake to kill him.
No way he was going to do that shit.
“I guess we can do that, too,” Owen said, nodding. “Oh, damn, if we had done that, couldn’t we have risked meeting each other in the arena? Yeah, that would have been bad, wouldn’t it? Yep, definitely awkward to kill a friend.”
Jake stared at him a bit. “You are surprisingly calm, considering you might have just been killed if you decided to go up against me.”
“I have confidence that I can win enough fights to at least become a Fighter.” Owen smiled proudly. “Though I am not quite sure if I could beat you, true. How about you? What are you aiming for? You sound kind of skilled, so maybe you can even reach the Gladiator rank…”
Jake just grinned at him. “Champion or bust.”
“I… I don’t think that’s very feasible,” Owen said, scratching the back of his head. “Like, I commend the spirit, but…”
“You’re right,” Jake said, nodding. “There is definitely gonna be some hidden Grand Champion rank or something above Champion, right? That seems like a more realistic goal.”
As the saying goes: go big or die ten times in the attempt and be forced to go home.
Chapter 4
Kicking Off The Colosseum Arc
“Welcome to the Colosseum! Today, we have two New Bloods, both here to prove their worth! As they set foot on the sand soiled with the blood of their predecessors, who will come out on top!? Who will have a chance to move forward!? Perhaps... No! Not perhaps! Surely, today is the first match of a coming Champion!”
The voice of the announcer echoed loudly throughout the entire arena as Jake stood behind a fenced gate leading up to the arena itself. After talking to the Battlemaster, the guy had looked him over once before agreeing he was ready and sending him down one of the many hallways leading into an arena. These hallways were a mishmash of spatial distortion, taking you pretty much anywhere in the arena without you even noticing. No one around seemed to comment on it either, as everything was indeed very low-fantasy. There weren’t even teleportation gates anywhere, and regular gates had replaced magical barriers everywhere. He also had to admit that all the large-scale magic going on could only be detected by him due to his sphere.
“Combatants, enter the arena!”
Jake began walking forward, bow in hand and ready to go. He quickly made it up to a still-lowering second meshed gate, his opponent directly ahead of him.
“Go, Jake!” he heard yelled from the stands as he saw Owen there.
The arena was entirely circular and pretty small, only about thirty meters across, the ground covered in sand. Jake knew that as one moved up the ranks, arenas got bigger and grander, but for a starter arena, this was honestly pretty good. The stands all around were just benches, but there was a surprising amount in the audience. Then again, Jake quickly came to realize they weren’t humans. They were instead small green creatures.
Jake stared at his opponent at the other end of the arena as he cursed internally. Really?
[Goblin]
The goblin looked exactly as he would have expected. It was not even a meter tall and carried with it a wooden club that it held over its shoulder, trying to look intimidating. This was Jake’s first time encountering a goblin that truly personified a starter mob, and he honestly had no idea what to expect from the fight.
He knew goblins came in many different forms. They were an enlightened race, as they had professions and classes like humans and elves, but rarely reached high levels. If a goblin reached D-grade, chances were it wouldn’t be a goblin anymore but, at the very least, some kind of hobgoblin. Jake had even heard that goblins sometimes evolved into orcs and ogres or other such races.
As for the audience? Yeah, it consisted of ninety-five percent goblins who were all cheering and hollering loudly at their fighter. The crowd definitely wasn’t on Jake’s side.
Right as the mesh was about to fully lower, the announcer spoke one more time. “Let the battle begin!”
Without hesitation, the goblin charged toward him, having no doubt realized he would have a better chance in melee. Jake had a bow, and the sooner the goblin got close, the fewer shots he could get off. Additionally, Jake only had a knife for melee combat, which would make it very difficult to block a club.
The goblin knew all this and quickly ran across the arena, closing in at an impressive speed. The sand barely seemed to slow him down as he sneered at Jake, soon getting within only a few meters before Jake could nock a single arrow. The goblin prepared to swing its club the moment he entered striking distance, with Jake still yet to respond.
“Oh, no! The goblin is simply too fast for the human to respond in time and draw his bow! How will he—”
Jake kicked the goblin.
His small green opponent tumbled to the ground, losing his grip on his club. The little guy tried to get back up and find the club but stumbled again. After a dozen seconds, Jake just sighed. The goblin had managed to stand back up, but he looked wobbly on his feet, barely able to hold onto the club.
“If you try to hit me again, I will kick you harder than last time.”
The goblin stared at him for a second. “I give up!”
Silence persisted for a good three seconds before the announcer yelled loudly, “A perfect victory for the archer… No, the martial artist! A glorious display of misdirection to bring a bow and confuse his foe! Truly brilliant!”
Jake tried to ignore the announcer guy as he walked back the way he’d come. He raised his hand and waved as the goblin bowed. He made his exit to the excited yells of Owen, and upon reaching the tunnel, he checked his menu and saw it had been updated.
Current rank: New Blood (1/5)
Colosseum Points: 2
Lives remaining: 10
Alright, one victory down… if you can even call that a victory.
Yeah, his first fight was a bit disappointing. Luckily, he hadn’t had to actually kill his opponent to win. The rules of the Colosseum were rather simple in regard to obtaining victories. One could win in one of three ways: kill your opponent, knock them out, or have them surrender. Apparently, in higher ranks, the rules could change, forcing some matches to be death matches, with others even having referees.
Winning a match would give you one point toward promotion. Getting five points—for now, at least—allowed you to do a Promotion Match and reach the next rank. If you lost a match and survived, you would lose a point, and if you went too much in the negative, you risked getting demoted to a lower rank. All in all, a simple system that made it quite easy to see that Jake just had to keep winning matches.
Anyway, getting out of the tunnel leading to the arena, Jake went straight to the Battlemaster, who congratulated him and told him to take a rest before coming back for another fight. Before Jake could protest, he heard running from behind as Owen arrived. The Battlemaster threw Jake a look, making him back off and sit on a bench not far away as Owen ran over.
“That was awesome!” the young man said excitedly and slightly out of breath as he stared at Jake with starry eyes. “I didn’t know you were a martial artist! Those are super rare.”
“I’m not.” Jake shrugged. “I just didn’t want to use a weapon… It felt like that would have been overkill.”
“You don’t need to be shy,” Owen said, smiling. “That kick was clearly practiced. You hit him right on the chin, too, and the timing… Definitely not something you just did on a whim.”
But… it was, Jake said internally, knowing he wouldn’t get anything out of saying it out loud.
Owen talked for a bit more before Jake decided sitting there was too boring.
“Anyway, I think I am going for another match,” Jake said as he stood up.
“Already? Well, I guess you don’t really need any rest…”
“Nope,” Jake said as he walked up to the Battlemaster. “Let me fight again.”
The Battlemaster looked at Jake. “Hmph. Don’t get overconfident just because you won one fight against a goblin, New Blood. Plus, I heard you revealed to everyone your special kicking technique, so expect your next opponent to know about it.”
Jake really wanted to point out that he’d literally just kicked the goblin normally, but he nodded solemnly. “I will keep that in mind. So, will you let me fight?”
“Alright, just don’t embarrass me for giving you permission,” the Battlemaster said, scoffing as he pointed at the tunnel for him to enter once the timer above it ran out. Which would be about half an hour, it seemed. This time was given for a few things, including studying your opponent using stuff from some of the many information brokers around, but naturally, Jake didn’t feel like he needed or wanted that. At least, not yet.
How no one pointed out that there were hundreds of tunnels leading out of the training area was really fucking weird, but not anything worth commenting about. Also, who the hell was in charge of all those timers? How did they even know how long something would take? Of course, he knew it was all just system fuckery, but he still kind of wanted to know if the system would at least try and offer up a feasible explanation.
After the timer expired, he began walking down the tunnel. He soon found himself in a nearly identical arena, ready for his next match. Everything proceeded as before, including the same announcer who went wild and introduced them both as Jake reached the second meshed gate. At the other end, he saw his next opponent.
It was an elven woman wearing an overly elegant dress that Jake suspected was against regulation. She held a simple wand in her gloved hands, looking incredibly full of herself—something she made clear with her words, which sadly interrupted the announcer.
“You are but a brute whose only skill is thoughtless kicks! I have been training under my revered master for years, and your meager martial arts will prove no challenge!”
Not a martial artist.
The moment the mesh was down, the woman walked slightly forward and held out her wand. “Behold! The power of true magic!”
Jake began walking into the arena at a casual pace as he watched mana slowly gather, glad that even if he had been pushed to G-grade, he could still easily feel it. Then again, if he couldn’t feel it, other G-grade humans also wouldn’t be able to, which would make any and all casters utterly fucked in the Challenge Dungeon.
Anyway, Jake kept watching as a fireball about the size of a basketball condensed over the next dozen or so seconds. The elven woman looked incredibly strained. She kept her eyes trained on Jake, who kept walking, and as he passed the halfway point, she yelled again.
“Try to dodge this!”
He did.
The fireball flew straight for him, and Jake pretty casually sidestepped it. She stared wide-eyed as the fireball hit the sand and left a nice black burn mark. It didn’t even explode.
“Not yet!” she screamed with determination as more fire mana began to gather. Jake sighed a bit as he kept walking until he got within three meters of the elf, and she looked right at him again with a triumphant smile.
“Hah! At this distance, you cannot possibly dodge in time!”
He could.
This fireball flew straight by him as he dodged and kept flying before it, already half-fizzled out, hit the back wall of the arena behind Jake. Now that he stood within a couple of meters from the elf, she looked at him with wide eyes.
“If… If you let me win, I am sure my master will—”
Jake walked one step closer, slightly raising his leg.
“Please don’t kick me.”
Jake looked at her and raised his eyebrow. She looked ready to cry.
“I give up!” she yelled loudly as she stumbled back and fell down on the sand. Before Jake could even do or say anything, she began full-on ugly crying.
Jake stared for a moment before quickly scurrying out of the arena again, sighing mentally on the way.
Get me out of this…
He nearly felt bad about that last fight; the lady clearly had no damn fighting experience.
Making his way back to the Battlemaster, he was once more told not to get cocky. Alas, at least the guy wasn’t a complete idiot; the middle-aged man allowed Jake to fight again immediately, and on the way back to the arena, he only said a quick hi to Owen, who had also decided to do some matches himself.
Entering the arena for the third time that day, he had another quick victory, all the build-up taking far longer than the fight itself.
As for how he won?
One kick.
The fourth and fifth fights were the same, both opponents going down with single kicks. All three of his last fights had been humans, and all had gone down the same way. Honestly, it was amazing how good a quick kick was at convincing someone that continuing fighting was probably a bad idea. His fifth opponent did look like he wanted to quit before the fight even started, but he still allowed Jake to get in a good kick before he surrendered.
This finally allowed him to make actual progress. That’s right—it was time for a Promotion Match.
Alas, this Promotion Match proved to be quite a lot more challenging than the fights prior. In fact, it took twice as much effort as any of those prior:
Two kicks.
When he got down from his grand Promotion Match, the Battlemaster had a smile on his lips and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Good job, New Blood… or should I call you Initiate Fighter? Who knows—if you keep this up, we might one day make a proper combatant out of you!”
Owen, who somehow seemed to always be around, also quickly came over, looking a bit worse for wear. He had bandages wrapped around his right upper arm, and his forearms were also wrapped in some thin, green gauze to treat what looked like burns.
“You managed to get promoted already!” Owen said with a smile. “I only won three matches myself, but I am getting the hang of it!”
Jake just smiled in return, not wanting to ask how the hell the guy managed to get himself injured against the kind of foes one could meet in these first five matches. They were all people who were either too weak to put up fights or lacked an iota of fighting experience. Even the guy Jake had met for his Promotion Match barely knew how to raise his arm to block with a buckler. Which was how he managed to handle two kicks, by the way.
“You aren’t even injured,” Owen said, whistling. “Damn, you really are a pro martial artist.”
“Not a martial artist,” Jake corrected him.
“Oh, right, sure.” Owen grinned, giving a wink. “I understand perfectly.”
“I don’t think you do.” Jake sighed as he looked toward the Battlemaster, who was talking to some other young chump. “Oh, well. I guess I can go for one more match.”
“What are you talking about?” Owen asked, confused. “The Colosseum is closing in half an hour. No way you got time for one more fight.”
“Closing?” Jake questioned. It closed? Jake wasn’t used to things closing anymore.
“Yeah, it closes every night at ten and reopens the next morning at six, with matches starting at eight,” Owen explained. “Getting here early means you can often get in a morning fight.”
Jake slowly nodded. Damn, it sounded like the Colosseum really did close. Looking around the large training area filled with target dummies and different kinds of equipment, he noticed the place was emptying out.
Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Jake wondered.
“Do you already have a room booked, by the way?” Owen asked after seeing Jake just standing there in thought. “I heard that as an Initiate Fighter, you can get a small room to yourself.”
