Chapter 15: Merciless Lioness

The bell rang.

Not politely.

Not gently.

It exploded through the underground arena with enough metallic violence to make every conversation die at once.

The crowd surged forward.

Cheers crashed through the chamber.

Coins changed hands.

People shouted names, insults, predictions, and what I assumed were prayers specifically tailored toward gambling addiction.

Inside the cage, the Rockkin moved first.

He slammed both stone fists together.

The impact sounded like two gravestones arguing.

Then he spread his arms.

Chunks of rock erupted from his body.

Not little pebbles.

Actual jagged pieces of stone launched from his shoulders, arms, and chest like someone had turned a quarry into artillery.

The projectiles screamed across the cage.

I leaned forward.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Something inside me immediately shifted.

That familiar feeling.

Recognition without explanation.

Understanding without study.

The instant I saw the technique, I knew it.

Not vaguely.

Not partially.

Completely.

How the Rockkin gathered force through his body.

How he condensed earth-aligned energy around his stone flesh.

How he released it outward.

The skill settled into me as naturally as remembering my own name.

Another ability added to the increasingly irresponsible collection living inside me.

The Merciless Lioness did not move.

At least, not immediately.

She watched the incoming stones.

The crowd screamed.

Then she raised her fists.

Punch.

The first projectile shattered.

Punch.

The second exploded into fragments.

A third came toward her head.

She stepped forward and drove a straight punch through it.

Stone burst apart around her knuckles.

The audience lost what remained of its collective mind.

I stared.

No weapon.

No shield.

Just hands.

She continued walking forward while the Rockkin launched more debris.

Each piece met the same fate.

Right fist.

Left fist.

Elbow.

Palm.

She broke them apart so casually it looked less like combat and more like an unusually aggressive home renovation project.

And once again, my body learned.

Every motion.

Every adjustment.

The way she transferred power from her legs through her hips and shoulders.

The timing of her strikes.

The tiny movements that let her break solid stone without wasting force.

Mine.

All of it.

I smiled beneath my breath.

This place was better than a library.

A violent, illegal library where the books punched each other.

The Rockkin roared.

Then charged.

The cage floor trembled under him.

The Lioness finally moved.

She shot forward.

Fast.

Not Rabbitkin blink fast.

That had been magical displacement.

This was physical speed.

Pure acceleration.

She crossed the distance before the Rockkin could complete his next step.

Her fist buried itself into his stomach.

BOOM.

The sound struck the entire chamber.

The Rockkin's massive body folded slightly.

The audience roared.

She hit him again.

And again.

A barrage of punches hammered his torso.

Stone cracked.

Dust burst outward.

He swung one giant arm.

She ducked.

He swung the other.

She pivoted aside.

Then she drove an uppercut beneath his jaw hard enough to lift his front foot from the floor.

I whistled.

"That woman has disagreements with geology."

The spectator beside me yelled something incoherent.

Probably agreement.

The Rockkin recovered and brought both fists down.

The Lioness leaped backward.

Stone smashed into the cage floor.

Cracks spread across the ground.

Then the Rockkin swept one arm horizontally.

She jumped over it.

Rotated in the air.

Landed.

Immediately attacked again.

It was brutal.

But not messy.

That was what impressed me.

She was violent with organization.

Every punch had purpose.

Every dodge put her somewhere useful.

Nothing was wasted.

She fought like somebody had taken anger, forced it through military training, and taught it proper footwork.

The Rockkin fought back with raw power.

He created stone projectiles.

I copied them.

He hardened parts of his already stone body.

Copied.

He slammed the ground and sent a jagged ridge of rock through the cage floor.

Copied.

Every ability he used became mine before the technique had even finished.

No resistance.

No learning curve.

No mysterious requirement.

See it.

Understand it.

Own it.

Simple.

Terrifying.

Wonderful.

The Lioness showed more.

A burst of speed.

Mine.

A reinforced punch that seemed to compress force directly before impact.

Mine.

A defensive technique where she shifted energy through her forearms to absorb a heavy blow.

Mine.

Even the way she used her tail to subtly correct her balance during turns registered somewhere in my mind, though I lacked a tail and therefore found that particular lesson aggressively useless.

Still.

Copied.

My ability apparently had no quality control department.

The fight continued for several minutes.

The Rockkin managed to land one solid hit.

His forearm caught the Lioness across the shoulder.

She flew sideways.

The crowd gasped.

She hit the cage bars.

Metal shook.

Then she landed on her feet.

She rolled her shoulder.

Looked at him.

And smiled.

Oh.

That was not a good smile.

That was the expression people wore immediately before making a poor decision somebody else would regret.

She launched herself forward.

Her fist struck the Rockkin's chest.

Crack.

Another punch.

Crack.

Third.

CRACK.

A large section of stone armor shattered.

The Rockkin staggered.

She stepped inside his reach.

One punch hit his ribs.

Another his stomach.

A hook struck the side of his head.

Then she drove both hands together against his chest.

The Rockkin fell backward.

His enormous stone body crashed onto the cage floor.

Dust rolled outward.

The entire chamber shook.

He tried to stand.

One arm pushed against the ground.

His body trembled.

Then the arm failed.

He collapsed again.

Still alive.

Just thoroughly introduced to the floor.

The bell rang.

The crowd erupted.

"LIONESS!"

"LIONESS!"

"LIONESS!"

She raised one fist.

The underground arena became a wall of noise.

I watched her.

Interesting.

Strong.

Fast.

Skilled.

And apparently very bored.

I could relate.

My eyes wandered around the arena.

Near one corner, a merchant had set up a small table covered with masks.

Black masks.

Red masks.

Animal masks.

Metal masks.

A few so ugly they could probably qualify as psychological warfare.

I looked at them.

Then away.

No reason.

Absolutely none.

I was merely an innocent spectator enjoying illegal violence.

The announcer stepped onto his platform.

He lifted both hands.

"Well!"

The crowd quieted slightly.

"That concludes the main event!"

Boos immediately answered him.

I laughed.

The announcer shrugged dramatically.

"What do you want from me? The challenger lasted longer than the last one!"

More boos.

He looked toward the Rockkin being dragged from the cage.

"Still disappointingly short!"

The Merciless Lioness turned toward the crowd.

Her shoulders rose and fell slightly from exertion, but she looked nowhere near tired.

If anything, she looked annoyed.

Then she shouted.

"That's it?"

The crowd answered with cheers.

She spread her arms.

"Is there nobody here who can actually fight?"

More cheering.

Interesting audience.

Apparently being insulted was part of the ticket price.

The Lioness pointed around the room.

"You come here every week, scream until your throats die, throw your money around, and none of you have the courage to step inside?"

People laughed.

Someone shouted something vulgar.

She pointed toward the voice.

"You wouldn't survive ten seconds!"

The man cheered harder.

I nodded.

Healthy relationship.

The announcer jumped back onto the opportunity like a merchant spotting a drunk customer.

"Wait!"

The crowd slowly quieted.

The announcer raised one finger.

"If our champion wants another fight..."

The Lioness turned toward him.

He grinned.

"Then let's make it worthwhile."

A servant hurried toward the announcer and handed him a rolled parchment tied with blue cord.

The moment the scroll appeared, several people around me became noticeably interested.

The announcer held it high.

"Tonight only!"

The crowd murmured.

"Anyone who defeats the Merciless Lioness will receive this!"

He pulled away the cord and raised the scroll like a priest revealing divine scripture.

"A single-use Skill Scroll!"

That got them.

The crowd exploded.

I leaned forward.

Skill Scroll.

Very interesting.

The announcer shouted over the noise.

"And not just any skill!"

He waited dramatically.

People screamed at him to continue.

He clearly enjoyed his job far too much.

"Thunder Assault!"

The name rolled through the chamber.

Several spectators immediately started shouting numbers at betting tables.

The announcer continued.

"A rare combat skill that infuses the user's fists with lightning and unleashes thunder-charged strikes!"

Lightning punches.

Okay.

That sounded fun.

Completely unnecessary.

Potentially dangerous.

Exactly the kind of thing I wanted.

The announcer waved the scroll.

"Beat the champion and it's yours!"

People looked toward the cage.

Then toward one another.

Nobody moved.

Interesting.

The prize was apparently attractive.

The Lioness was apparently more attractive to survival instincts.

I watched her roll her neck.

She waited.

Still nobody volunteered.

I considered it.

Fighting her would be useful.

I had already copied her techniques.

I had copied everyone else's too.

Rabbitkin Blink.

Bullkin charging strength and hammer control.

Lizardkin fire breath.

Turtlekin water projection.

The feline fighter's chained-blade techniques.

The horned woman's metal skin.

The avian fighter's wind abilities.

Every movement.

Every active skill.

Every combat technique.

Every magical ability.

Now the Rockkin's earth attacks.

The Lioness's speed and punches.

All mine.

And if she used anything else?

Also mine.

The scroll itself almost felt secondary.

Almost.

Mostly, I was bored.

Dangerous combination.

Curiosity plus boredom had been responsible for approximately eighty percent of my life's worst decisions.

The other twenty percent had excellent legs.

I glanced toward the mask merchant again.

A minute later, I was standing in front of him.

He looked up.

"What do you want?"

I pointed.

"That one."

A plain dark mask.

Nothing dramatic.

Covered the upper half of my face.

Enough to hide recognizable features without making me look like I had joined a cult specializing in interior decoration.

He named the price.

I paid.

Then I put it on.

The merchant stared.

"You planning to fight?"

"No."

I turned toward the cage.

"Probably."

He blinked.

I walked away.

Sometimes honesty required flexibility.

The announcer was still calling for challengers.

I headed toward the entrance reserved for fighters.

A guard blocked me.

"Contestants only."

"That's why I'm here."

He looked at me.

Then laughed.

"You're serious?"

"Frequently by accident."

He looked at my build.

Then at my ears.

Well, what he assumed based on appearances.

Spriggan.

Lone Spriggan.

No visible wings.

Not exactly the combat profile inspiring confidence.

The guard shrugged.

"Your funeral."

"Excellent customer service again."

He opened the gate.

I stepped into the preparation area.

A few spectators noticed.

Word spread quickly.

Someone pointed.

The announcer looked toward me.

His entire face brightened.

"Oh?"

I removed my shirt.

That part mattered.

Until recently, revealing my back would have immediately exposed me as human.

Now?

Different story.

Earlier that day, I had seen actual Spriggans walking through the capital.

Two of them.

Wing markings visible.

Magical wings manifested through resonance between them.

And because my ability was apparently an interdimensional copyright violation with no restrictions, I had copied that too.

The markings.

The racial magic.

The wing manifestation skill.

Everything.

So now elaborate wing-shaped markings spread across my back.

Perfect.

Authentic.

Exactly like a Spriggan's.

I still could not physically manifest the wings while alone, because that was how the Spriggan ability itself functioned. The skill required another Spriggan nearby for resonance.

Not a failure to copy.

Just the rule built into the thing I had copied.

The announcer hurried over.

He stared at my markings.

Then at me.

"A lone Spriggan?"

"Observant."

He lowered his voice.

"Are you certain about this?"

"Mostly."

"You saw what she did to the Rockkin."

"I did."

"She'll break you."

"Confidence inspiring."

"I'm serious."

"That's unfortunate."

He leaned closer.

"You could leave now."

I glanced toward the scroll.

"I want the skill."

The announcer stared at me.

"You're risking your life for a Skill Scroll?"

"Yes."

"You understand how insane that sounds?"

"Very."

"And you're still doing it?"

"Correct."

He slowly shook his head.

Then sighed.

"Fine."

He pulled out a small registration slate.

"What name do you fight under?"

I leaned closer and whispered.

His eyebrows rose.

"Really?"

"I believe in clear branding."

The announcer grinned.

Then climbed onto the platform.

His voice blasted across the arena.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

Heads turned.

The crowd noticed me near the cage entrance.

Cheers began rising.

"It appears someone in this chamber actually possesses courage!"

I walked forward.

The announcer extended one arm dramatically toward me.

"A challenger has stepped forward to face the undefeated Lioness!"

The crowd erupted.

"Who is he?"

someone shouted.

The announcer grinned.

"A wandering fighter!"

I stepped into the light.

"A man foolish enough to enter this cage alone!"

More cheers.

"A Spriggan without allies!"

That got laughter.

Then the announcer shouted my chosen title.

"GIVE YOUR WELCOME TO THE LONE SPRIGGAN!"

The arena roared.

Lone Spriggan.

Simple.

Accurate enough.

Technically fraudulent.

Perfect.

I entered the cage.

The metal door slammed shut behind me.

The Lioness stood across from me.

Her blue eyes studied my mask.

Then my markings.

Then my body.

Amusement appeared almost immediately.

She folded her arms.

"You're serious."

"I have unfortunate habits."

"You watched the last match?"

"Every punch."

"And still came in?"

"I want the prize."

Her eyebrows lifted.

"You're risking your bones for Thunder Assault?"

"I've made worse financial decisions."

She laughed.

Actually laughed.

"You're either brave or stupid."

"Those departments share office space."

The crowd shouted around us.

The bell had not rung yet.

The Lioness stepped closer.

"A lone Spriggan can't even manifest wings."

"I noticed."

"No partner. Reduced magical resonance."

"Correct."

"And you're planning to fight me inside a cage."

"That's what the architecture suggests."

She smiled beneath the lower edge of her mask.

"I'll try not to cripple you."

"Romantic."

Her eyes narrowed.

The bell rang.

She moved instantly.

One moment, she stood several meters away.

The next, her fist was approaching my face.

Fast.

Very fast.

I tilted my head.

The punch missed.

Her second fist followed.

I leaned backward.

Miss.

Third strike.

Step right.

Fourth.

Duck.

She kept coming.

Fists rained toward me in combinations designed to make dental work relevant.

I avoided all of them.

Left.

Right.

Pivot.

Step.

Her movements were excellent.

Unfortunately for her, I already understood them.

Every shift of her shoulder announced something.

Every foot placement prepared another strike.

Every turn of her hips told me where the force was going.

She increased speed.

So did I.

The crowd started reacting.

At first, cheering.

Then confusion.

"Hit him!"

someone yelled.

"Stop dancing!"

another shouted.

The Lioness's expression changed.

Amusement fading.

Focus replacing it.

She threw a hook.

I slipped underneath.

Uppercut.

Step back.

Roundhouse kick.

I leaned aside.

Her heel missed my head by centimeters.

"Fast," she said.

"Thank you."

"But speed alone is useless."

"That feels judgmental."

She attacked again.

I decided to test her.

Instead of retreating, I stepped toward her.

My shoulder shifted.

Her eyes caught the movement immediately.

She jumped backward before I struck.

Good reflexes.

Very good.

Someone in the crowd screamed.

"FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS, HIT EACH OTHER!"

I glanced toward the voice.

"Working on it!"

The Lioness blinked.

Then laughed once.

"You really are strange."

"I get excellent reviews."

She raised her fists.

"But you still can't hurt me."

"Why?"

"You're alone."

"That again?"

"A lone Spriggan's magic is weak."

I sighed.

"Spriggans can still cast magic by themselves."

She smiled.

"Then prove it."

"Gladly."

She charged.

I raised one hand.

The Turtlekin's technique answered immediately.

Water compressed along my fingertips.

I fired.

A concentrated blast struck her directly in the face.

SPLASH.

The crowd went silent for half a second.

The Lioness stumbled blindly past me.

I sidestepped.

She slammed shoulder-first into the cage wall.

Metal rattled.

Then laughter exploded from the audience.

I lowered my hand.

"Hydration is important."

The Lioness slowly turned.

Water dripped from her golden hair.

Her blue eyes promised crimes.

"Cheap."

"I prefer efficient."

"You sprayed me."

"Technically, I weaponized moisture."

She wiped water from her face.

I smiled.

"I've got plenty more tricks up my sleeves."

I looked down at my bare arms.

"Metaphorical sleeves."

That did it.

The Lioness growled.

Not figuratively.

Actual Lionkin growl.

Deep.

Predatory.

Very attractive.

Focus, Caled.

She clenched her fists.

Golden light appeared around them.

My smile faded slightly.

New skill.

Excellent.

The light intensified.

Bright yellow energy wrapped both hands.

My ability instantly understood.

Light-element reinforcement.

Compressed radiant force around the fists.

Release on extension.

Explosive impact.

Copied.

Completely.

Mine.

The Lioness planted one foot.

"I'm finished playing."

"That seems dramatic."

She vanished forward.

"LIGHT BUSTER!"

Her glowing fist shot toward my head.

I dodged.

The punch passed beside my face.

Then the light around her knuckles detonated.

BOOM.

Heat and force exploded against the air.

I felt it across my cheek.

"Oh."

Second fist.

I ducked.

Another blast erupted above me.

The cage bars behind us shook.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Also mine now.

That helped emotionally.

She pressed forward.

Glowing fists struck again and again.

Each missed punch produced a burst of searing light.

One mistake and I would probably become spiritually toasted.

Time to stop playing defensive.

I released Berserker Aura.

Crimson energy spread over my body.

Heat flooded through me.

My muscles expanded.

Power surged into my limbs.

The crowd reacted instantly.

"What?!"

"Aura!"

"The Spriggan has Berserker Aura?"

The Lioness's eyes widened.

Good.

Her next glowing fist came toward my chest.

I caught her wrist.

Not completely.

I redirected it upward.

Her Light Buster detonated above us.

Golden light filled the cage.

The explosion thundered through the arena ceiling.

She looked at me.

I smiled.

Then opened my other palm.

Wind gathered.

The avian fighter's skill.

Compressed air spun around my hand.

"Tempest Blast."

I released it.

A wall of wind hit her.

The Lioness flew backward.

She crashed into the edge of the cage.

Before she recovered, I moved.

Fast.

Her speed.

Rabbitkin Blink would have been even faster, and yes, I had that too, but I did not need it.

I crossed the distance.

Caught her arm.

Turned my hips.

Shoulder throw.

She left the ground.

Her eyes widened.

I flipped her over me.

She slammed flat onto the cage floor.

The entire crowd gasped.

I followed her down.

My hand flattened.

The horned woman's metal-skin ability flowed into my palm.

Skin hardened.

Metal spread across my fingers and forearm.

The Lioness stared at it.

Then at me.

Confusion finally defeated pride.

I held the edge of my hardened hand near her throat.

Not touching.

Did not need to.

I looked down at her.

"This is over."

For several seconds, she stared back.

Then the tension left her shoulders.

She released a long breath.

And accepted her defeat.