Ultimate Level 1

Chapter 292 freeωebnovēl.c૦m

“You’re certain you don’t want any armor? Just that ratty robe?”

Max nodded, ignoring Kauakan’s gaze, unsure whether his eyes were conveying something or not. Two sets of slits would occasionally cover his eyes, one pair from the side and the other from the top.

“The goal is to appear weak, correct?”

“Yes… but still… one solid attack from your opponent might take your head off or pierce your heart. Surely, you must fear that.”

“If I’m dumb enough to die like that, then I deserve that kind of death.”

The same maniacal laughter came from the insect as he waved his claws in the air.

“Perhaps I have misjudged you and your servant. Both of you are way smarter than I expected. I shall leave you two alone, and when the time comes, one of my servants will bring you to the arena floor. Have fun tonight, and make us some money, Ifrit .”

Max almost laughed at how Kauakan accented the name he chose to be called.

When he had left through the solid black glass door and left him and Aimee alone, Max turned to see her studying him again.

“Should I have gotten a nicer robe?” he asked, pulling the hood off.

“Not yet. After a few wins, we can get you a new one, perhaps something that matches your name and how you plan on fighting. Then as your fame grows, we can get you even better equipment as well.”

“Your mother told you all this?”

Aimee nodded as her nostrils flared.

“She… she was a fighter… This was the path she took for power. If one can manage it, they can grow stronger here but must quit before the opponents are able to kill them. There is a reason why some sit at the top.”

Moving to the only other chair in the room, Max sat down, turning the staff slowly in his hands as it lay across his knees.

“I have to ask… I think I know, but I need to make certain. How does killing people make you stronger?”

She grinned.

Max saw that her smile was almost devilish like Kauakan’s appeared to always be.

“When we kill someone stronger, we take their life force… It’s like… when you crafted that staff, and you used your own life to make it, all that power inside you is up for grabs. If someone can kill you and absorb it, they will become stronger.”

Max felt like he had been hit with a bucket of cold water.

A chill ran down his spine, and he couldn’t help but shake from it.

“Is that the only way to get stronger?”

Sighing, Aimee shook her head.

“No, but the other methods are pointless for those who desire strength. One will die of old age long before they can get any real power. That weaponsmith Romandis would be much stronger if he killed a few people. Not everyone has the stomach for that. Most men don’t. They aren’t like you.”

She was grinning again, and a weird twinkle was in her eyes as she said those last words.

“You think I’m a killer?”

“No,” she scoffed. “You do not seek power, and yet you take it from each person you kill. I can defeat creatures and gain some power, but it is much harder for us that way. Nothing in our land is weak. The sand culls the weak. Our people enslave the weak. Only the strong rise to a place of honor. Yet if one rises too far, they become a target.”

“Couldn’t someone kill another while they slept and grow stronger?”

“Yes, but not like you think… Our god, Suljin, has made it so that true power comes from real combat. You could hold a devil cat so that it can’t attack, and I could deliver the final blow, ending its life, but somehow she would know, and I would not be granted much if any power at all. However, if one attacked me, and I fought from inside a small cave, using a spear and barely escaped with my life, then she would honor me with great power.”

“And if you kill someone in their sleep? What if they fought back?”

“They would receive nothing. The power they gained would be minimal at best. Most likely no more than if a slave attacked and you slaughtered them.”

“What about if you wanted to fight someone, but they chose not to?”

Shaking her head, Aimee sighed, scratching the underside of her jaw.

“Why worry about cowards? If someone won’t fight, you can kill them. The power is still minimal but there. But ask yourself this question. If you knew you would die unless you fought back, would you still stand there and do nothing?”

“Of course not.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Aimee as she pointed a finger at him. “Everyone fights back when they understand that death is the only guarantee if they don’t. A slave who knows their master is coming to kill them will fight like a cornered beast, prepared to give everything they have because only by winning can they escape death for another day.”

Max said nothing for a minute, pondering the answers he had heard, wondering what kind of god would design a world that was so brutal and harsh.

The worst part of it all was that it sounded exactly like his skill.

Everyone has something like me… When they kill something, it makes them stronger…

“One last question, and then I’ll stop,” Max said, as he tried to ignore that Aimee had closed her eyes and leaned her head against the black glass wall.

“Go ahead,” she replied, her eyes still shut.

“How do you measure this power you gain upon defeating someone? Is it a certain number of stats or a skill or what?”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Her left eye opened up completely while her right remained shut. Turning her head sideways, she studied Max a moment.

“That is a very specific question for something you seem to know nothing about,” Aimee stated. “The answer is it varies. Each person can kill anyone, yet nothing is gained from those too far beneath you. Real gains come from those much stronger. When you kill someone, their soul enters you, it is said. Sometimes you might grow stronger, or smarter or faster. The power or skill you have might improve, increased by the strength of their soul.”

Sitting up and opening both eyes, Aimee leaned forward.

“Sometimes, one might gain a new skill or ability. When that happens…”

Chuckling, she shook her head and leaned back.

“That is why Igarra is so dangerous. She is rumored to have a dozen skills, all gained from those she killed along the way.”

Closing her eyes, Aimee’s breathing slowed down, and Max stopped pestering her with questions.

Is this something based on you? Can a world function like this? How?!

Silence was his reply, and it tore Max up inside.

How messed up is this system?

Frustrated, he moved his chair to the opposite wall and leaned back, closing his eyes and preparing himself for what he had to do.

***

The arena did not impress Max at all.

Standing before a gate made of black glass bars, he watched as a pair of fighters fought with weapons. One was a large rhinokin he had been told by Aimee. He wore some leather armor that looked weird in how it was fastened around his massive body. Crusher was the name that the announcer who was shouting out commentary had called the towering fighter.

In his hands was a two-handed maul. It was about ten feet long, as tall as Crusher was, and while it didn’t move fast, Max knew one hit would definitely achieve what the fighter's name was.

His opponent was a fast-moving insect with six arms. They had two shields, two spears, and two swords, and its attacks had occasionally pierced or cut the hide of Crusher.

“And Emoakay lands another barrage of attacks!”

Max was impressed with the speed of the insect. Its green body flittered around the dark brown sand on the arena floor. Each attack that Crusher sent was dodged, and the moment it passed, the insect moved in, landing one or two hits against the rhinokin’s arms and legs.

The crowd cheered and roared as the pair fought, and Max couldn't help but wonder about the menagerie of beings in the arena.

Maybe five hundred tops fit inside the small seating area that was provided. Four reserved sections housed the four different leaders of this ring. Each sat on wooden chairs while the rest of the spectators stood on stacked layers of glass rings.

The actual fighting space was about twenty-five yards in diameter, and the walls were fifteen feet high. Different colors of the sand stained the arena floor, and Max couldn’t help but wonder what all had bled or died on this place.

A roar came, and Max watched as Emoakay had thrust both spears forward while slicing with the pair of swords into Crusher’s right leg after the weapon had passed overhead.

It looked like a good attack, except Max saw what was about to happen before the insect did.

A crunching sound was followed by green and yellow gore washing over the field as Crusher’s fist came down, smashing the six-foot-tall insect like a bug.

“AND CRUSHER HAS CRUSHED HIS OPPONENT! Let’s hope Emoakay’s wife and children weren’t expecting him home for dinner!”

Roars of laughter and cheers came as the crowd reacted to the announcer’s statement.

Max kept his eyes on the boxes, seeing a large kemonomimi that was covered in the first real metal armor that looked worth wearing. It was colored black, standing out against the orange and yellow fur. Two swords were resting against his wooden chair, and a trio of other cat warriors stood behind him, their heads always scanning around.

It had smiled while the praying mantis on the far end appeared upset, waving its blade arms in the air, and the guards that were behind it backed up some.

“You’re up next, don’t die.”

Max scoffed at Aimee’s sudden joke, and as Crusher made his way back to a gate on the other side of the arena floor, a crew came in, scraping off the section of sand that had once been Emoakay’s body. After depositing it in a cart, they wheeled it out.

“Tonight, we have a new fighter! Our favorite master of destruction and chaos, Kauakan has told us that Ifrit is going to burn down his competition!”

Laughter and some cheers came as the gate Max stood behind pulled upward.

When he could finally move past it without ducking, he strode out there at a steady pace, moving to the section that had been painted a moment ago by one of the workers who had removed the body.

Laughter came as he moved, shrouded in the robe that was too small and carrying a simple wooden staff.

“His opponents are some of our favorites! The twin Flesh Strippers!”

Max felt his face change as he looked up at Kauakan and saw the insect lean forward, nodding and banging his two claws together.

From the other side of the arena a pair of tigerkin, both about eight feet tall and wearing leather armor across their bodies, approached.

Each of them had bright yellow fur and black marks that looked identical. The only difference was one was a boy and the other was a girl.

Again his eyes widened as he stared at the sister of the pair, seeing she had far more muscles and was wider and bulkier than her brother.

In her hands was a large axe. Her brother had a pair of scimitars.

They moved to about ten yards from him, standing on the spot marked for them.

A groan came from Max as the brother pointed both weapons at him and roared, causing the audience to cheer even louder.

“You have one minute to place all bets! When the drums sound, no more bets will be taken! Decide now! Will Ifrit show us something besides a man hidden under a tattered robe, or will the Flesh Rippers once more feast upon another victim?!”

Movement all over the arena took place, and Max could feel the spectators moving to where bet takers were stationed at the top, middle, and bottom of each area.

With his face still hidden, Max wanted to frown, but inside him the part that was always there, the hunger and thirst for his skill called out.

What are you doing?

Max almost took a step back, shocked at the sudden voice in his head.

Where have you been?

Win and I’ll tell you… lose and… well, it won’t matter.

Gripping his staff tighter, Max found himself smiling.

It wasn’t until that moment he realized just how much he had felt alone.

At that moment, Max felt like he was whole.

‎