Chapter One Hundred and Eight — Buff Bun
Chapter One Hundred and Eight — Buff Bun “You were wonderful!” were Awen’s first words as I made it to the top of the stairs leading into the box where my friends were waiting. I hadn’t been allowed to see the other fights because that would’ve been cheating, but as soon as they were over I was let loose to go see my buddies.I braced myself a moment before Awen rushed up to me, expecting her to glomp me off my feet, but she paused a step before me, then wrapped me into a big happy hug. I laughed into her shoulder. “Thanks!” I said.“Oh, the way you beat up that big mean guy, and the way you dissected that Whisper person. I think I saw him crying when he ran off the stage. It was...” Awen flushes. “It was wonderful to see you dominating people like that.”I grinned even harder. “It wasn’t as fun as it probably looked, but thanks. I’m sure you would have done well. We could train together so that we’re both good at, uh, dominating people.”“Awa.”I squeezed Awen back, then stepped to the side to grin at Amaryllis and Booksie. “Heya!” “Here,” Amaryllis said as she handed me a notebook. I stared at it for a moment before taking the leatherbound book and flipping it open. There were names and lists on it. “Those are all of the remaining competitors in your bracket. You’re down to just six possible competitors. Of those, there are three that you would have a difficult time facing.”I flipped the page over, skimmed a description of some woman that used a whip to fight, then handed the notebook back. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one that knows the competition. But thanks for doing this for me, it’s awfully nice of you!”Amaryllis huffed and refused to take the notes back. “Most of the competitors have spent some time together, it’s a sure thing that they’ve studied each others’ tactics and fighting styles and skills.”“Yeah, but they don’t know mine, so it’s fair.”Amaryllis pouted for just a moment before her self-control took over and she snapped the book from out of my hand. She must have been distracted because she didn’t see my thank-you hug coming.“You’re still the best,” I said. “And you made that for me, so it’s extra cool.”“I made it so that you’d win and earn us more money.”“Of course you did,” I said.“Don’t take that tone with me!” she said before poking at my tummy with the back of her talons. I broke off the hug with a giggle. “Ah, hey Booksie!” “Hello,” Booksie said. “Do I get a hug too?” There was only one correct response to that. It was weird hugging someone with big ears on their head like mine. It tickled a bunch when our ears wrapped around each other.“Okay!” I said. “So, what’s next?”Amaryllis shook her head. “Next we sit down and enjoy the intermission. The bouts only resume in an hour or so. I’ve been meaning to see the puppet show.”“Are puppet shows a big thing where you’re from?” I asked.Amaryllis made a so-so gesture. “They’re not as common as actual theater pieces, but my family hired puppeteers for our yearly winter festival from a local troupe. I always enjoyed them more than actors in rubbish costumes arguing on a stage.”“So, did you always secretly want to be one off those puppeteers?” I asked.“What? No, this class is merely extremely convenient,” she said.“You didn’t dream of joining the puppeteer troupe and running off for a life of adventure and fun with them?” Amaryllis looked away. “No. That's a ridiculous idea.”We moved up to the front of the box and sat down on what had to be the best seats in the box. No one else seemed to make a fuss, some even pointed at me and I waved back at them.“You’re going to gain something of a following if you continue,” Amaryllis said.“A following?” I asked.She nodded, and so did Booksie on her other side. “Oh yes. People attach themselves to all sorts of silly things, most especially those that entertain them, and your pathetic flailing on-stage was nothing if not entertaining. Of all the people in your bracket, you’re the one that looks like she put the least effort into her fights, and you’ve won every one so far.”I tapped at my chin. “Well, that’s obviously a bit wrong. The fights are very strange, but I wouldn’t call them easy by any stretch.”Amaryllis shrugged. “I’m telling you what it looked like from up here.”“You looked really impressive,” Awen said. “I, ah, was on the edge of my seat the entire time you were down there.”I plopped myself down, Awen on the one side, Amaryllis on the other with Booksie next to her. “Thanks. So, um... should we eat while we watch the show?” There was music being played by three people, a lutist, a fiddler and someone with a big stand-up bass, all of them hovering in the air on platforms just like Zac’s. They were keeping people entertained with a folksy little beat-the fiddler was quite good, if a little frantic-while a group of workers hurried to change the stage below, covering it in wooden planks and mounting a gantry-like thing above it. Amaryllis waved one of the people selling snacks over, and soon we all had popcorn and mystery meat-Booksie and I skipped that one-and different sorts of little cakes and cookies and one boy was selling fist-sized burritos filled with beans and tomatoes. Silver changed hands and Amaryllis bought enough food for a dozen people; the moment she started flashing money more sellers slid closer. Then, when we were running out of place to put it all, she shooed them off with a beat of her wings. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.I was halfway through a chocolatey pastry when the show below started. The gantries over the stage had been placed to allow for a complex array of thin wires to be placed that held up a dozen puppets, and also bits of scenery like little walls and cut-outs of bushes and trees that the puppeteers could pull up at a moment’s notice.An older gentleman with a deep voice sat in a lotus position atop a platform and came to a halt above the stage. He cleared his throat, then began to narrate a story in a deep baritone that carried across the stadium.The play was cute. Something like A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but with more strange characters. I guessed that having magic in a story lost some of its lustre when real magic was a thing. “Are fairies real?” I whispered over to Amaryllis.“They’re a myth,” she said right back. Her eyes were locked onto the scene below. I stayed quiet for the rest of the show, Amaryllis seemed to be loving it so I didn’t wanna interrupt her fun.As the play went on and we finished up, I started to get a little thirsty. My backpack was still tucked under the bench, so I pulled it out and started fixing myself a cup of tea, one ear opened to the play.It wasn’t boring, not really. There was a lot of skill on display from the puppeteers, and the voice actors were really good. But plays weren’t my thing, and I had maybe been a little spoiled with good media back home.I gestured at Booksie and Awen with my kettle, then at their nods poured three cups. Congratulations! Through repeated actions your Tea Making skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!Rank E is a free rank!I grinned. Finally! Tea MakingRank E -00%The Ability to make tea. Your Tea now assists the drinker.I handed the girls their cups while wondering about that last line. How could tea help? Other than the normal ways, of course.An insight on my cup helped a bit. A cup of black tea brewed by an amateur. Increases alertness and wakefulness. “Huh,” I said. I downed my cup and reached for my bag again. A bit more boiling water, this time without adding anything to the kettle itself and I was making a second cup of tea, this time with some dried dandelion flowers.A cup of dandelion tea brewed by an amateur. Cures minor bladder issues and reduces swelling.I shrugged and downed the cup. The next plant I tried was milk thistle. The pretty pink flowers had gone a little stale in my pack, but they were still good for tea.A cup of milk thistle tea brewed by an amateur. Assists the liver. Helps process lesser poisons.That was useful! So far the buffs I’d gotten from the teas I had on hand weren’t all that impressive, but I was sure that could change with the right tea. I finished off the last of my cup and then cleaned everything off with a pinch of magic before sorting it all away. I jumped in my seat as the show below ended and people clapped while the actors and puppet masters bowed. Amaryllis climbed to her feet and started beating her wings against her sides in some sort of weird parody of the chicken dance. Was she... clapping?I joined in a moment later. “You really enjoyed that,” I said.“It was brilliant,” Amaryllis declared. “The play was a little stale. An old story with nothing new to it, but the motion and skill those puppeteers displayed. They truly know their craft. I want to meet them.”“Sure!” I said. “We can go do that right now, if you want.” I scratched my head just under the rim of my hat. “I need to, ah, stop by an apothecary, if one is open.”“What for?” Amaryllis asked. “Just need some herbs,” I said.She cocked her head to the side. “I thought you were against cheating.”I shook my head. “No no, my Tea Making skill, it ranked up. I can now buff myself with tea. And I don’t need to stop there now. We could go tomorrow?”“I hardly think you need more musculature, as much as Awen would probably appreciate it.”“Huh? No, buff means... uh.”Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “I know what buffing is. C’mon, puppeteers first. There’s only so long left to the intermission. We can worry about your obsession with leafy water some other time.”“Cool!” I said. I grabbed Awen and Booksie and helped them to their feet. “Let’s go!“Miss Bunch?” I turned to find one of the clipboard people standing in the row between benches. He looked quite studious with his board held up before him. “Yup, that’s me,” I said.“The next match begins in half an hour. We’re gathering all the champions now. Could you follow me back to the waiting rooms?” he asked.“Aww, darn,” I said. “I’m going to say goodbye to my friends first, alright?” “Of course,” he said before stepping back.I turned and yoinked Booksie into a big hug. “I’ll see you in a bit!” I said.Then it was Amaryllis’ turn. I think I had trained her well because she didn’t protest against the cuddling at all. It was nice, especially since her feathers felt funny. “Do try not to make a fool of yourself,” she said.“I’ll try!” I said. “Er— not to, that is.”She snorted and shook her head. “Moron.”Then it was Awen’s turn for another hug. “See you in a bit!” I said.“Awa, I’ll, I’ll be cheering you on, Broccoli.”“Ah, my number one fan, huh?” I said. “Yes. Yes definitely,” was her quick reply. “Beat the, um, stuffing out of them. But don’t get hurt.”I grinned and pulled back. “Okay! I’ll see you all once I’m done!” And with that, my little intermission ended.
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Chapter One Hundred and Nine — Civility
Chapter One Hundred and Nine — Civility “Entering the third round of this competition, the first semifinal bout of the day, is Broccoli.... Bunch!” Zac shouted. “And her trusty chair!”I stepped onto the stage, waved at the crowds that had, if anything, grown bigger since that morning, then focused really hard on my breathing. I set my chair down to the side, then sat down on it with a plop. I folded one leg over the other, then twisted and sat in the other direction. It didn’t make it any more comfortable.“Oh my, it seems our little bun is nervous. And no wonder! On the right, one of the most powerful mages in this competition, the Lord of Dust, Weatherby!” The crowd roared as, with a huge burst of dust that spun into the air like a tiny cyclone, a man jumped up and crashed onto the far end of the stage. He was tall, with salt and pepper hair and a large white coat that had a bit of a lab-coat look to it. Beneath that, he was wearing normal clothes with tons of pouches sewn into them. He shifted where he landed, then reached up to adjust the large glasses perched on the tip of his nose. “Greetings, Miss Bunch,” he said.“Oh, um, hi,” I said. “Sorry, that was rude of me. I should have said hello already.”“Nonsense, it’s fine if you were merely a little slow. After all, it seems as if you’re paralyzed with fear. I assure you, while I fully intend to defeat you, I won’t do so while causing any damage that cannot be healed or tended to.”“Oh, thanks,” I said. “But I’m not afraid?”“Miss Bunch, your legs are trembling in terror.” Weatherby shifted so that he fell into a sort of fighting stance, arms by his sides and legs bent just-so. I felt my cheeks burning up. “That’s not ‘cause I’m scared,” I said. “There was a line at the bathroom and I’ve been drinking a lot of tea.”Weatherby didn’t seem to know how to process that. I grit my teeth together and tried to think dry thoughts. “Can we just end this?”“Oh-hoh,” Zac said. “It seems as if our bun is done with the backtalk. The walls are going up... the last bets are coming in... and the fight begins!” Magical walls sprang up all around us and I got off my chair and shifted into a sprinter’s stance, ready to cut the distance between myself and Weatherby. “Well then, I suppose we ought to begin,” Weatherby said. Twin pillars of brownish-black dust burst out of the oversized pockets of his coat, shot out towards the corners of the arena, then with a forward swipe of his arms, the two pillars came rushing down where I stood.I took one lunging step forwards, then rolled to the side to avoid one of the bigger pillars before hopping above the second as it swept over the ground. Where it passed, the stone surface of the arena was scoured clean. Landing on the balls of my feet, I prepared to run towards Weatherby, only to see the man raising a hand my way while a meter-long spear-shaped dust construct hovered over his shoulder. “Oh, shoot,” I said.I tried to twist out of the way, but I knew there was no way I was avoiding that. Weatherby had me pinned right where he wanted me. I grit my teeth and jerked a knee upwards while blasting a wave of cleaning magic forwards. Amaryllis had said that sometimes magic interfered with other magics and could help mitigate some of the damage. I just had to hope for the best.The dust spear rammed into my thin barrier of cleaning magic and instantly broke apart. Particles of dust still pelted me, but with none of the force I had been expecting.I stumbled to the side then regained my balance with a swing of my arms. Had my Cleaning magic negated his Dust magic? Could that even happen?Hopping backwards to make some room between us, I kept an eye on the two dusty tendrils. When one of them snapped forwards I shifted to the side and fired a ball of cleaning magic into-and through-the magical construct. It worked! Dust fell to the ground, some of it evaporating like water being spritzed onto an open fire. Still, that didn’t mean I could block every blow... not unless I used my aura. Biting my lower lip, I waited for the next dust lance to come, but Weatherby was a clever man, and he fired three bolts of magic all at once. I funneled magic into my cleaning aura and brought an arm up to intercept one of the bolts. No way was I going to stand there and take the blow head-on.The nearest bolt burst apart a dozen centimeters away from my palm, turning into little more than glowing ashes that passed with as much strength as someone blowing air really hard. I grinned. I was covered.Running up towards Weatherby, I narrowed my eyes and ignored the two dusty tendrils as they came crashing down on me. The air filled with glowing motes. I jumped out of them and aimed a snap-kick towards my opponent’s chest. He slapped my foot aside while taking a long step back and to the side. “Aura magic?” he asked.“Cleaning,” I explained.“Interesting. My Dust Magic is at Journeyman, I didn’t think simple Cleaning magic could do anything against it.”“Mine’s at Expert,” I said as I moved closer to him.Weatherby chuckled. “I see. I didn’t think I would witness weaponized Cleaning magic. What an interesting twist.”“Thanks!” I said. “I just work with what I’m given.”Weatherby nodded along, hands slipping into his coat. “Impressive,” he said. Then a whole pile of dust flew towards my face.I pushed more mana into my cleaning aura, turning the dust into little more than a cloud of sparkling motes. A cloud that parted when a staff came rushing out of it.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.“Eep!” I ducked to the side, barely avoiding the staff before it stopped, then shot off to the side.Two dull ‘thwaps’ sounded out and I winced as I stumbled back. He’d whapped my ears!“Terribly sorry. That must be rather painful. I’m rather surprised you didn’t pull them back,” Weatherby said.I twitched my ears this way and that, then with a bit of concentration managed to make them fold around and back. “They’re new,” I said.“That would explain the second pair of ears,” he observed.I looked over to the man, eying his new weapon with trepidation. The staff was about as tall as he was and was covered in little carvings, all geometrically precise and square. “Where were you hiding that?” I asked.Weatherby lifted the staff, twisted his wrists, and split it apart. “My coat,” he said.“That’s neat!” I said.“Why thank you. I do prefer magical combat, but sometimes rapping a foe on the head with a large stick just works.”I grinned. “You’re pretty fun,” I said as I moved over to my chair. I kicked the legs and used the momentum of that to bring the chair up onto my shoulders. I took a moment to just catch my breath and control my bladder. “I hope you don’t mind me finishing this in a hurry?”“You do seem somewhat indisposed,” Weatherby said. “I must say, this fight has been enjoyable so far. I wouldn’t want to end it on a negative note.”I smiled over to him. “You’re pretty nice. I’m surprised you’re in the competition. Are you new to adventuring and such?”Weatherby raised one black and white eyebrow. “Not quite. I discovered a new dungeon and decided to change my classes. I’m a bit old for it, but I had some interesting ideas. This is merely a test to see how those ideas pan out.”“Ah, two new classes then?” I asked. “What’s the second? Mine’s Wonderlander!” Weatherby smiled back and spun his staff around. “Merely Fire Mage. I had ideas about combining Dust and Fire magic.”I blinked. “Are you trying to make dust explosions?” I gasped. “You’re making magic thermobaric bombs! That’s so cool!” Weatherby lowered his staff a little. “You’re familiar with the theory?” he asked.“Heck yeah! Those make huge explosions. You’ll put my little fireballs to shame.” I lunged at Weatherby, chair legs spearing out at him. He smacked the chair aside, and with the reverse swing of his staff, tried to hit me in the head. I grabbed his staff, letting go of the chair for a moment. I wanted to use it as a way to pivot my legs up to kick Weatherby, but he twisted his end of the staff and left me with a foot-long bit of wood.Ducking to the side, I avoided a jab, then I used the stick I now had to smack away a swipe. Grinning, I pushed some stamina into my legs and shot up towards Weatherby. It was only after I’d jumped that I remembered that I didn’t know if I could do that or not. A question that had kind of just answered itself as I flew forwards. A quick snap-kick hit him in the chest, but the older man just grunted and used my position to throw a punch that hit me in the lower tummy.I stumbled back and raised a hand as a time-out. “Oh, that was mean,” I said as I rubbed my stomach. “I almost lost control there.”“Apologies,” Weatherby said. Then he stabbed out at me with his shortened staff. I was already bending forwards, so I rolled out of the way, flicked the small bit of wood I had back towards Weatherby, and, since it was close, I picked up my chair before spinning around.Weatherby didn’t seem to expect me to charge him headlong with my chair before me like some sort of battering ram. He landed a blow on my head, but other than making my helmet ring a bit it didn’t stop me from pushing him back. I set the chair down, placed a foot on it, and used it as a jumping point so that I could punch into Weatherby knees first. He stumbled back, hitting the wall behind him. He brought his staff up, but I was already spinning around.With both hands on my chair, I shoved it forwards and pinned Weatherby in a triangle made from the seat’s bottom, its back, and the wall behind him. His arms and staff were pinned to his side, but it didn’t stop him from kicking out at me and sending a burst of dust magic towards me.I ignored the kick that hit my thigh with a grunt and fired off a big burst of cleaning magic to ward off the dust. When it cleared, I had a hand raised in a fist, aiming right towards Weatherby.“I forfeit,” he said.I paused. “Oh. Okay then,” I said as I took a step back. I placed the chair next to me. “Need a sit?” He smiled. “I’m quite well. I merely couldn’t see a way out of that particular bind that wouldn’t harm both of us more than would be appropriate for a fight like this.”I nodded. “That’s kind of you.”He extended his hand and we shook.“We should get together later, talk explosions,” I said. “Certainly,” Weatherby said with a knowing grin. I smiled back. There was a certain understanding between people like us. Zac cut in from above. “What a startling end to the fight! Truly, a display of civility amidst combat and-”“Lower the walls Zac!” I shouted.The spokesperson froze. “Pardon?” I winced, legs crossing. “Lower those walls right away or... or I’ll do mean things to you! Hurry, I drank too much tea!” There was a lot of laughter, but that didn’t matter. The moment the walls faded away I was bolting out of the arena on a straight path towards the nearest bathroom.
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