Part of Ilvara’s job was watching up-and-coming matches in arenas, legal and otherwise, around the city. She’d had her fill of the legitimate kind years ago. It was all the same, she realised early on. The pageantry, the gear, the methodology. Prospective recruits, serious gladiators, and even amateur ring fighters all knew what was expected, and what worked. Most of them went to school for the very same thing, after all, and their instructors had been following the same combat doctrine for centuries already.

Which was why she’d taken to touring the amateur circuits, and the underground ones, too.

“Funny way to call it an underground arena,” she muttered to herself, “since none of it is actually below the actual ground.” Sure it was in the lower levels—the hundreds or so, which was more than two hundred levels below where she usually lived.

Ilvara Erdmann hummed as she reviewed footage of someone who drew her interest. It was of a bronze-skinned man fighting a squad of gladiators in one of the underground arenas, his second fight according to the records. It was a rather short bout since his foes had not been able to push him hard enough. The interesting bit was that ‘Bonecrusher’ was not using any kind of ordinance, or even meleetech weapons, like chainswords, vibroblades, or even oscillating gauntlets. No, he was using a simple glaive, and with it, he broke or crushed bone. Since neither of his two matches was held in completely open terrain, he had not been made in open terrain, the battle had showcased his capability to manoeuvre in the battlefield.

His movements were a work of art, Ilvara decided. The way he was clad showcased his body beautifully, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart skip a beat when she stared at it for too long. His face was obscured by a helm and visor, but what little she saw of his jawline as quite fetching.

Hmm, it was a good thing she wasn’t doing this out of thirst, but rather, as part of her job. Millennium State Conglomerate’s affiliated security company was always hiring, and she was one of its recruiters. Still, Bonecrusher was probably too good and unique to fit into a security force.

“Spec force would be better,” she mused. Those nutters were all competent and had varied doctrines. They had to if they were to be deployed into the Void.

The attrition rate for Void delvers was too high compared to the training rate. Better quality troops survived longer, by the Void was a charnel house. She shuddered as she recalled her time there. She was only in a support position, an intelligence officer, but even so, her base had been assaulted at least once a week. If not by the dwellers, then by rival corpsec. Even worse were the invaders from other cities. Those battles always devolved into slaughter.

Either way, Bonecrusher looked like he would be a good fit for spec force, and she needed to look into his match in person to find out his secrets. After all, he didn’t look like he had ‘chronian gear. Either he had some that were heavily obscured, or his gear contained organic tech. Either way, those secrets must belong to Milstate…

She settled back in her seat. Normally, she would be in one of the VIP booths, but she decided to stay in the public seating. Well, not completely public, she was in the cordoned-off areas where private seats could be bought. The public was up there, behind the barricades, watching the fight on the projector screens since the arena floor was blocked from direct view. The ambience of the fight still wafted up the stands, so they could bask in the atmosphere of their betters.

She grew more excited, and heated, when Bonecrusher finally arrived at the entrance perch. His gaze swept the stands for a moment before he turned to look at the arena’s labyrinth. Ilvara connected to the arena’s live feed to get her close-ups, and she couldn’t help but smile. Her memory banks saved every single detail and she cross-referenced the data with the company’s REI-space database, but unfortunately, none of his tech was a match. He didn’t look like he had any gear, but the way those muscles clenched when he gripped his weapons couldn’t be natural. They were both intimidating and attractive.

“Match, start!” the announcer yelled into the microphone and the perch that Bonescrusher was on, as well as the opposing side’s, started to retract. Bonecrusher jumped off casually and landed easily, then he made his way towards the other end, glaive resting across his shoulders.

The opponents, Killbot Squad, rushed down the centre, probably hoping to reach a defence point, or simply wishing to finish the job as soon as possible. From the expressions she could see, they were an overconfident lot. She shook her head. Fools. She warned them not to underestimate Bonecrusher.

They went down a few twists and turns before they made it to a kill zone. It was on the convergence of several pathways, but it wasn’t as if they knew this was where Bonecrusher would go through. Ah, someone used a spy drone. It was a lot smaller than Ilvara’s personal drones, roughly the size of a finger, and hard to see. She only detected it when her Syscheck program caught the line of communication. The audience could see that Bonecrusher would head down there if he kept his heading.

Ilvara squinted at the bronze-skinned gladiator. Did his eyes dart towards the drone? Civilian-level sensory augmentations wouldn’t spot the drone through its visual camouflage, so what did he use to see it? He didn’t vary his pace or change his direction, displaying either arrogance or supreme confidence. She leaned forward, her anticipation rising along with the crowds’. Anti-noise barriers prevented the crowd’s cheering and yelling from reaching the arena, however, and there was a visual screen too.

About a dozen paces before he could enter the kill zone, Bonescrusher stopped. He dropped into a martial stance, with both hands on the glaive’s haft. His lips pressed into a thin line, and then…

He leapt on top of the labyrinth’s walls. The hedges were nearly five paces high, and he reached that with a single bound. He definitely had gear on his legs. Maybe just part of it, not the entire leg.

He ran down the narrow wall and jumped into the kill zone. Not at the entrance but towards where one of the Killbots set up a light machine gun nest. The man yelled in surprise and fear, but he did manage to arm and aim the gun before Bonecrusher could get to him. Ilvara winced, expecting a brutal end when the trigger was depressed and a line of tracer rounds sped towards the leaping man.

Only…for some reason, Bonecrusher was able to jolt his body sideways and away from the immediate line of fire. He landed a couple of paces from the gunner, and with a quick and brutal swipe of his glaive, severed the man’s arms. A backswing ruined the gun. Then, he kicked the gunner away and turned to face the half-stunned squad.

Confusion didn’t last long, and three of the remaining four blurred as they moved using their Celerity Boosts. Ilvara toggled her Perception Booster and saw everything around her slow to a crawl. She could now see the bullets speeding through the air as the Killbots shot at Bonecrusher.

It was another thing watching the man dance around flying bullets through a screen and another thing watching it in person. Poetry in motion.

But the battle was pretty much over as soon as he arrived near them. In short order, Bonecrusher brutally disabled his foes. There was a reason he got his nickname after only two battles after all, though Ilvara would be hard-pressed to remember his old gladiator name. The man had changed it after all.

Less than a minute later, it was over. Cheers rained down on the man, who simply raised his glaive high. Then, with barely any thought of appeasing the crowd, he left the stage.

Ilvara stood up soon after and made her way towards the waiting room. It was time to get a close-up look, and hopefully, give a pitch.

___________

Pushing her Anima into the walls and ceiling turned out to be a mistake. It felt somewhat similar to when she hit her elbow hard, and the odd feeling that pervaded her arm afterwards. Like that, exactly about a hundred times worse, Yuriko thought as she retracted her Anima back to her body. Just a simple brush with her Anima had done that, and she shuddered to think what trying to penetrate it with her perception would be like…

Wait…

Yuriko frowned. She slowly extended her Anima and pressed up against the wall, but this time, with the firm WIll to not let it affect her. It…worked? Somewhat. It felt like she was in a tug of war now, with something trying to pull her Anima and her mind into the circuitry as opposed to just hitting her elbow at the corner of a table. She wrenched her Anima back, panting slightly. That had taken more mental effort than she expected, but thankfully, that foreboding feeling she had of something stirring in the Depths had not returned. It had been a risk, she realised, but it was something she needed to establish.

“No, you kronk…” Yuriko muttered to herself, “shouldn’t be taking risks. You’re not Damien, you’re not at the height of power!” She knocked a knuckle on her forehead and grunted.

Perhaps she should put a hold on absorbing and digesting the man’s memories, yes? It was affecting her too much now. Right. She should stop and revisit this in a few weeks. Maybe longer. She had not been this foolhardy before, right?

Uncomfortable silence pervaded her mind. Fri’Avgi was still asleep, Eli’Theria was absent, and Damien was gone.

“Rotter,” she muttered. It was hard to fight ingrained instincts, but for it to have overcome her initial reticence without her being conscious of it? Was this what Damien warned her about in his last moments? Not an external threat by one coming from inside? How did one guard against one’s mind anyway?

Being mindful and frequent meditation on the state of her being should help, right? Yes, she should do that every night, and she should hold off digesting memories. She already had most of what she needed, and she could either entirely seal the remaining memories up, or allow them to slowly seep into her mind. Or seal and use meditation time to carefully examine what she would be taking into herself. Yes, seal for now.

It was not an onerous process, just tightening the hold of her Anima in her mind. She was still dedicating nearly fifty paces of reach to this, a full fifth of her current reach, but as she grew in power, the fraction would become smaller and smaller. Though… her instincts told her that she needed her full reach when she advanced to the next Stage. So there was that limitation, huh?

She had continued walking while she ruminated on her follies, and the tunnel, once metalled walls, had slowly turned into something more organic and natural, though not in the sense that it felt like natural rock. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the changes were easily apparent.

For one thing, the tunnels became more cylindrical. The floor was no longer flat, but curved. It was wide enough not to be awkward to walk on though. The surfaces weren’t smooth but were caked in sediment of some kind. Dirt, rocks, and other minerals, Yuriko realised, and it also helped in keeping the off effects of the wall from affecting her Anima. She carefully kept it contained around her body, as dense as she could pack it, and the rest on restriction. That one could be changed to boosting in less than an instant. She carefully extended her perception through the tunnel, though, as she would feel blind otherwise.

Soon enough, the tunnel intersected with the big one that the raiders used, but when she got there, the only thing greeting her were tracks. They had pulled far ahead.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep