Chapter 16: The Calm Before the Storm

  The evening sky over Xenor had a soft orange hue, the last rays of sunlight fading as the city began to settle into night. The air was thick with anticipation, and even the bustling marketplace seemed quieter, as if holding its breath for the tournament the following day.

  Marcus stood at the edge of the training grounds, taking in the view of the arena where tomorrow’s battles would unfold. His mind buzzed with thoughts of the trials and what awaited him. There was an undeniable tension in the air, an energy that made even the usually nonchalant adventurers more serious than usual.

  Thalron, the half-elf half-dwarf who had become his unexpected rival, was nearby, adjusting his armor and preparing himself for the battles ahead. Marcus couldn’t help but notice how focused the man was—something about him seemed to be constantly calculating, a sharpness to his every move.

  “So, how are you holding up?” Thalron asked, his eyes glinting with the same competitive fire Marcus felt.

  “Good,” Marcus replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked around. “Tomorrow’s going to be interesting.”

  “Interesting, huh? I like that word. I was thinking ‘unavoidable,’” Thalron said, a sly grin forming on his face. “I’ll be honest, though, I didn’t expect the ‘Spell Fist’ to make it this far. I’ve heard of Spell Swords, but a Spell Fist is... new to me.”

  Marcus chuckled. “Yeah, well, it’s been an interesting ride so far.”

  The words hung between them for a moment, a silent acknowledgment of the strange and unpredictable path that had brought them both to this point.

  As they spoke, more competitors began to filter into the area. Marcus couldn’t help but notice the diversity in the crowd, each person a representation of a different culture, race, and background. There was something about the gathering that made the tournament feel even more monumental.

  Then, as if on cue, one participant caught his eye.

  She was tall, with long, flowing hair and a striking presence. Her body was lean and strong, but what stood out to Marcus wasn’t just her imposing stature—it was the fact she was a human...the first one he's seen since coming to this new world. Her gait was fluid, confident, and purposeful. She was every bit the warrior.

  "A human" Marcus said aloud.

  Thalron frowned, narrowing his eyes as scanning the halls looking for the "Human" Marcus had pointed out.

  Where!? Thalron said, confused...

  "She's Over there!" Marcus gestured with a nod...

  I don't see any humans. Thalron murmured.

  The tall one, chatting with the Beast-folk over there!

  That girl!? Thalron said confused...

  “Yes, Thalron!,” Marcus murmured, still watching the woman.

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  Thalron glanced over. Marcus, she's a Beastfolk, how did you mistake her for a human...

  Marcus visibly confused, what!?.. I'll she doesn't look "beast-folk" she looks just like a human...

  Thalron chuckled, clearly amused by Marcus’s confusion. “missing your own huh. She’s half Minotaur and Centaur.

  Thalron, gasped, when he looked over to see Marcus seemingly being choked by some invisible force...

  Marcus wasn't being choked...however, he was struggle to hold back his laughter. Marcus stared, trying to reconcile the image in his mind. He had thought she was just another human fighter, but now that Thalron pointed it out, he could see the subtle signs—the broad shoulders, the powerful stance, and the way she held herself.

  “I gotta admit,” Marcus said, his voice filled with amusement. “I thought she was just another human, but now I can’t unsee it.”

  Thalron laughed. “cant 'unsee' what''...

  She doesn't look human to you, Thalron!?

  Marcus...I don't know what you're talking about...she's clearly beastfolk.

  They both turned back to the woman, who was now engaged in an animated conversation with a few other participants. Marcus couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the situation. He felt a quiet chuckle bubbling up in his chest.

  Before he could say anything else, a voice broke through the quiet.

  “Marcus!” Vira called out, waving from across the field.

  Marcus turned, smiling as he saw her approach. She was accompanied by Boruk, Ragn, and Yara, each of them looking more serious than usual. The familiar group seemed to draw even more attention, as if their presence added a sense of weight to the gathering.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Marcus asked, crossing the distance to meet them.

  Vira gave him a half-smile. “Just making sure you don’t get yourself into trouble before the tournament.”

  Yara, ever the quiet observer, gave him a nod of acknowledgment. Boruk and Ragn both grinned at him, the half-orc and the centaur giving off an aura of readiness.

  “You’ve got this,” Boruk said. “Just remember, it’s not all about power. It’s about strategy.”

  Marcus nodded, taking their words to heart. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  As the group gathered, a soft murmur began to rise in the crowd. Marcus looked over to see who was arriving next.

  And then, just as they were about to head toward the edge of the field to join the others, the Minotaur-Centaur girl approached. She was boisterous and loud, her smile wide and unmistakably interested.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the famous Spell Fist himself!” she said, her voice hearty and full of confidence. She gave Marcus a playful wink, then threw a look over to Vira. “This the competition? Might be fun after all.”

  Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle at her boldness. “I’m Marcus,” he said, offering her a hand.

  She grabbed it with a firm shake. “I’m Arixa. Don’t let my friendly attitude fool you. I can crush you just as easily as I can charm you.”

  Her gaze lingered a little longer on Marcus than he was entirely comfortable with, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of his status as a human or just her natural exuberance.

  Vira, standing by his side, gave Arixa a pointed look, her eyes narrowing with some unspoken tension. “You must be confident for someone so... *boisterous*,” Vira remarked, her tone sweet but edged with challenge.

  Arixa laughed, her boisterous laughter filling the air. “Why wouldn’t I be? But hey, no hard feelings, right? It’s a tournament. May the best warrior win!” She flashed Marcus another smile before turning to join a group of other participants.

  Marcus watched her leave, still processing the interaction. He turned to Vira, noticing the subtle shift in her expression—a slight frown that she quickly masked with a neutral expression.

  “Something tells me she’s not just here for the fight,” Vira murmured under her breath.

  Marcus, still trying to recover from the surprise, chuckled. “She’s certainly... forward. But hey, it’s Xenor. People are a little different here, I guess.”

  Vira didn’t say anything more, but the tension between them was palpable.

  As the evening continued, the group slowly made their way toward the central gathering area. Just before they reached the edge of the crowd, Grek appeared from the shadows, his usual calm demeanor betraying a slight twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

  “Grek has something for you,” Grek said, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. “A little something to help you prepare.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”

  Grek handed him the paper. “Tournament stats. All the competitors. Grek figured you might want to know what you’re up against.”

  Marcus’s eyes scanned the paper, noting the names and basic stats of each contestant. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the line next to Arixa’s name, which read simply: “Unknown: Human, question mark.”

  “Where did you get this?” Marcus asked, his voice low.

  Grek smiled, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Let’s just say Grek has sources. Not everything’s about playing fair, Marcus. Sometimes, it’s about being prepared.”

  Marcus glanced down at the paper again, his mind racing. Part of him was hesitant, feeling the old tug of his moral compass. But then, he rationalized it. This wasn’t cheating. It was just... studying the competition, like watching fight tapes back in his old life.

  “I’ll keep it to myself,” Marcus muttered, slipping the paper into his pocket.

  “Good,” Grek said with a wink. “And, by the way, those unallocated stat points you’ve been hoarding? I’d advise you to keep them. Word is, some people gain blessings by reaching milestones without using them.”

  Marcus looked at him, brow furrowed. “Really" Marcus tried to act surprised.

  Grek shrugged nonchalantly. “Can’t hurt to try. But Grek has friend with rare level inspection skill, can see through anything some study those sheets Marcus.”

  Two competitors have have blessing that are... dangerous.

  Marcus glanced down at his stat sheet, silently agreeing with Grek’s advice. He knew what he was holding back—one such blessing already rested in his core.

  As the evening continued, the weight of what was to come settled in. Tomorrow was going to be a trial of strength, will, and strategy. Marcus could feel it in his bones but he was determined to be in the top ten no matter what...

  With that, Marcus turned back to his friends, preparing for the storm that would arrive at dawn.