<h4>Chapter 11: Weekend (1)</h4>
<i><strong>[Pinnacle Academy Training Grounds]</strong></i>
<i><strong>{Alice''s POV}</strong></i>
The vast training field stretched out before me, and I gripped my sabre tightly, contemting the recent matches with him. The memories yed in my mind, puzzling and challenging the usual rity I had inbat.
Initially, frustration and a tinge of anger fueled my every move. How could someone seemingly experienced inbat be so unpredictable? His attackscked the precision I expected, yet an undeniable effectiveness lingered, I felt so irritated.
However, as the battles unfolded, I only felt more confused. Rel''s movements were getting more unpredictable, and his tactics were unorthodox. It was as if he danced on the edge of chaos, weaving through my attacks with a strange grace-defying exnation.
But it was the final bout that left me bewildered. I had underestimated Rel, assuming victory was assured, but he outsmarted me. The deceptive stumble, the improvised snare—it was a calcted move that caught me off guard. Even as I fell to the ground, the confusion persisted.
Our eyes met, and in his gaze, I saw a mixture of surprise and respect. It mirrored my own sentiments. Was this a loss or a draw? The lines between victory and defeat had blurred, leaving me in uncharted territory.
This was the first time I felt this way—questions swirling in my mind. Who was he? Where did hee from?
"Hey. I don''t know if it''s just me, but personally, I think you have a talent for magic instead of using a sword."
He didn''t even look at me, scratching the back of his head and gazing in the opposite direction. I pondered how to respond, but his words triggered a moment of misery, a memory reying through my mind.
I couldn''t save them that time. If only I had been better back then. My magic power wasn''t enough, so I thought it best to wield the sword. I had given up on being the mage I initially dreamed of to be stronger, to avenge my family.
"But you don''t have to, because after all, you''re strong, and I believe in you."
<i>Budump!</i>
I stared in awe at the words he uttered, ''I believe in you''—words I hadn''t heard since the calls of my mother and father. What was he even saying?
I tried to respond, but the words didn''t escape my lips. Somehow, he seemed to understand the expression on my face and extended his hand.
"You won anyway, so there''s no need to be mad at me."
Taking his hand, I wondered if he thought I was angry. I couldn''t deny the hint of frustration, even if it was just a quiz. I had never felt the sting of being second to first ce.
Kolek''s words echoed, leaving me standing in contemtion. The battles were a revtion, an unexpected challenge. I found myself wondering who this person truly was.
As students dispersed, my gaze lingered on Rel. He walked away, swaying slightly from side to side. I wondered if that was just his fighting style or if he didn''t know how to fight at all. Still, I had to acknowledge that he had defied expectations in a way I hadn''t thought possible.
With a sigh, I moved on from the initial frustration. Losing, let alone drawing, wasn''t something I was ustomed to, but this experience humbled me. Perhaps joining this academy was worth the trouble after all.
***
<i><strong>[Rel''s POV]</strong></i>
<i><strong>[Alice has acknowledged you! 55 ppp has been rewarded.] </strong></i><i><strong></strong></i>
After concluding the exhausting 10-game stretch against Alice, my body sumbed to fatigue, rendering me too tired to string coherent thoughts together. Although the rewards from the battle were ample, what I needed most was rest. My body wobbled side to side, and I pondered whether I could sleep through the remaining sses for the day without inviting trouble.
My thoughts were scattered, contemting whether to attend ss, skip it, or even work out. The decision to skip ss gradually crystallized in my mind, as the allure of much-needed sleep overshadowed my initial intention to bnce rest and responsibilities. The weariness clinging to my every step made seeking sce in the dormitory an increasingly appealing prospect.
My path diverted from the academic buildings, leading me back towards the dormitory. The weight of recent battles lingered, and the promise of a brief respite beckoned me towards the sanctuary of my dorm room.
The moment my body sank into thefort of the bed, exhaustion imed me swiftly. Sleep enveloped me in its soothing embrace, and the outside world faded into a serene oblivion. Unbeknownst to me, hours slipped away in the realm of dreams.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
AHHHHHHHHH
<strong>[Saturday 5:32 am]</strong>
<strong><i>[K-1 ssroom GC]</i></strong>
<i><Ly4ra: 5:36 am> Guys are we ready for next week''s assignment :3</i>
<i><BadAzz: 5:37 am> Lyra it''s 5 in the morning go back to sleep</i>
<i><Val.Freya: 5:37 am> Bazz that''s not a nice thing to say be more polite.</i>
<i><BadAzz: 5:38 am> Apologies Valencia. Lyra can you please. go to sleep.</i>
<i><NoahTheArk 5:38 am> So everyone''s a morning person now huh?</i>
Are these people clinically insane? It''s too early for this kind ofmotion. ncing at the time and date, I blinked in shock, realizing I had been asleep for two days.
But it was clear that I was asleep for two days due to Exhaustion Overload. The system confirmed my body''s shutdown as a response to the phenomenon.
"System, do you know why I was asleep for so long?"
<i><strong>[Of course! Your body has gone through a phenomenon called Exhaustion Overload, which is why your body has shut down.]</strong></i>
"Okay, thank you."
Disoriented and groggy, I rubbed my eyes, attempting to shake off the lingering effects of deep slumber. Dragging myself out of bed, hunger overpowered my worries, propelling me towards the 24-hour haven of fast food—McDonald''s. d in dishevelled clothes, I stumbled through the academy''s hallways and, now at the IDS tform, scanned my student ID onto the portal, setting my destination for the closest McDonald''s.
Zzzzpt!
Suddenly, I found myself in Australia. The IDS station worked its mysterious magic, transporting me to Sydney. Surprised but seemingly unfazed, I continued on my quest for fast food.
On my way out of the IDS station, a guard checked my ID, allowing me to pass through without issue. Setting my sights on the city streets, memories of past visits to Sydney flooded back.
"Map."
<i>Fwang.</i>
Squinting at the tiny dot on the systems map, I realized the nearest McDonald''s was practically within walking distance – sweet! The golden arches practically glowed, and my stomach rumbled in anticipation of that ssic greasy goodness.
After a way-too-long debate with myself over the menu, I went with the cheapest (and most delicious) option: pancakes and a bacon egg muffin. Forget fancy kiosks, I basically shouted my order at the counter and tapped my watch to pay. I ended up devouring the whole meal down like a starving cartoon character.
Concerns about the longevity of my money lingered, but for now, I relished the satisfaction of a good meal. As I finished, I headed back to the IDS station,
<i>WHOSSSSH!</i>
A gust of wind blew past and suddenly thrust an A4 sheet of paper against my face.
Ouch!
As I took the paper off my face, I read the words: "Arena Duels! Hide the anonymity of your identity and fight for special prizes! T''s and C''s Apply."
Arena duels, a challenging opportunity nudging me to figure out the rest. Aware of the stringent regtions overseen by the Dawnde Org, I knew this could be a chance to win prizes.
Thest lingering taste of a McMuffin clinging to my grin, my thoughts raced ahead to the Arena Duels. A ce where all heroes, viins, adventurers and mercenaries fight, and with a weekend eventing up, it felt like the universe was giving me a sign.
Walking back to the IDS station, every step felt a little surreal – like I was navigating a world I''d only dreamed of as a writer. The guard checked my ID again, the routine already seeming less foreign, and then appointed me back towards the academy. The system whooshed around me, and suddenly I was standing beneath the familiar arches of the courtyard.
Sunlight washed over the campus, painting everything in that warm morning glow. I made my way towards my room, the ce a weird blend of reality and fiction, like a setting from one of my stories hade to life.
"System, guide me to thetest Arena Duels Event."
***
<strong>[11:35 am Central Australia, Dawnde''s Arena]</strong>
I stepped out of the IDS station, greeted by the sight of a sizable arena that loomed in the centre of the Australian outback. The structure, while not colossal, possessed an impressive stature reminiscent of a football Champions League stadium.
The area surrounding the arena was transformed into a bustling marketce, a carnival of colours and sounds. Stalls lined the periphery, showcasing a diverse array of goods and services. Merchants peddled their wares, hawking everything from weapons adorned with enchantments to armour that promised protection in the arena.
The air resonated with the chatter of mercenaries d in various armours, exchanging stories of past battles and discussing strategies for the duels ahead. Heroes, recognizable by the glint of legendary weapons and distinctive attire, moved through the crowd with an air of confidence, their reputation preceding them.
The scent of exotic spices wafted through the air, emanating from food stalls that offered a culinary journey around the world. As I navigated the lively scene, my senses were inundated with the sights and sounds of a world alive with anticipation.
In the midst of this vibrant marketce, a billboard disyed the uing duels and featured the names of renowned participants.
The stakes were high, and the promise of special prizes beckoned both seasoned. In my novel, the adventurers who believe not in being a hero but rather frencers walk the earth freely without restriction, whereas mercenaries are the ones paid for taking on the stronger and high-risk difficulties in missions and those seeking to make a name for themselves.
As I ventured deeper into the lively marketce, the mour of merchants seeking potential customers grew more pronounced. Each stall seemed to beckon with promises of power and extraordinary items. I couldn''t help but attract attention, my presence drawing the interest of eager merchants eager to make a sale.
A charismatic merchant with a flowing robe approached me, a glint in his eyes as he showcased an assortment of sparkling gemstones. "Ah, the discerning customer! Behold these rare crystals, said to enhance your magical prowess. A must-have for any aspiring duelist like yourself!"
I regarded the gemstones with a scrutinizing gaze, easily recognizing them as decorations
<strong>[Coloured Stone: Red Enchantment: Shining Glow]</strong>
"Interesting," I remarked, feigning intrigue. "But I''m more interested in practical enhancements. Do you have anything that can boost agility or resilience?"
Undeterred, the merchant shed a knowing smile. "Of course, my discerning friend! Feast your eyes upon these enchanted boots, crafted from the feathers of mythical birds. Wear them, and you''ll dance through the arena with unmatched grace!"
I inspected the boots, acknowledging the intricate craftsmanship but recognizing the exaggerations for what they were.
<strong>[Grade 9 Eagle Boots - Condition: Extremely Poor - Enchantments: Shining Glow]</strong>
"Impressive workmanship," Imented sarcastically. "However, I''m seeking something more... substantial. Perhaps a weapon that can truly turn the tide of battle?"
As I engaged in these interactions, I couldn''t help but maintain a sly smile. I relished wasting the merchant''s time. Their persuasive pitches and carefully crafted narratives painted vivid pictures of the supposed benefits of their wares, but I was not someone easily fooled.
Some merchants tried to y on my perceived inexperience, while others sought to impress with grandiose tales of the origins of their items.
A burly cksmith, muscles bulging beneath his apron, approached me with a hearty grin. "Looking for a weapon, eh? Feast your eyes on this de, forged in the heart of an otherworldly forge. It''s said to cut through defenses like a hot knife through butter!"
I humoured the cksmith, examining the de with a critical eye.
<strong>[Grade 10: Steel de - Condition: Okay - [Enchantments: Guard Block I]</strong>
"Ah, this is, uhm, good craftsmanship," I said, trying not to contort my face. "But I''m not really interested in the de since I''m an archer."
The cksmith''s confident demeanor faltered for a moment, and he quickly recovered with a heartyugh. "An archer joining the arena, how foolish could you be? Have you not seen the probability of an archer winning a battle in this arena? It''s pretty low. So, it''s best if you go home and not waste anyone''s time, little boy."
I stared at him with a nk look, acknowledging the truth in his words. It was indeed a challenging path for an archer, but It''s worth giving it try.
"You''re probably right, but I''m still going to go anyway," I said, walking away from the stand. "Oh, and your sword is absolute garbage, by the way. I don''t think anyone would be willing to spend money on such a low-grade item."
"Tch, bastard."
I couldn''t see his face, but I knew I had pushed a button.
Throughout these interactions, I maintained a bnce between scepticism and courtesy. The merchants, though persistent, eventually recognized that their usual tactics wouldn''t easily sway me.
Travelling through the bustling marketce, hidden away from the more conspicuous stalls, I stumbled upon a discreet and somewhat run-down setup that seemed to defy its surroundings. The wooden shelves, though worn and weathered, showcased an assortment of items for sale.
The mysterious merchant behind the unassuming stall exuded no trace of mana as if conducting business from the shadows was second nature. A tattered robe obscured their features, adding an extrayer of mystique to the entire scene. With a casual flick of the wrist, the merchant beckoned me closer.