B2: Chapter 36: the Fittest

Chapter 36: the Fittest

The roar of the crowd filled my ears as Barkatus and I clashed again. My sword-lance sparked against his burning blade, the impact sending tremors through my damaged frame. The spectators had grown more bloodthirsty as our duel dragged on, their shouts becoming a cacophony of demands for violence.

"Kill the monster!" someone screamed from the stands.

"Tear him apart!" another voice countered.

Through my peripheral sight, I caught glimpses of the instructors. Casper stood motionless at the judge's position, his face an unreadable mask as he tracked our movements. Professor Shawe's voice cut through the din as he gestured wildly at Harmony.

"Look at its damaged body! Barkatus has this won," Shawe declared, pointing at my melted shield panels.

Harmony shook her head sharply. "The monster's precision is wearing him down. Each hit counts more than those surface burns."

I spotted Genta jumping up and down in the stands, her green skin flushed with excitement. Beside her, Eyarna and Loland shouted encouragement, their voices barely audible over the general chaos. My Mind Sight picked up Annes and the other C-rank students watching intently from their section, their faces tight with tension.

Barkatus's blade whistled past my head, forcing me to focus back on the fight. As I pivoted to counter, I noticed Arctur standing apart from the other spectators. The lizardman's expression remained neutral, but his eyes never left the battle. Something about his intense scrutiny made my wiring work faster, pushing my chassis to move with greater precision.

You're slowing down, I transmitted to Barkatus as our weapons locked together. The heat from his sword was less intense now, the flames flickering weakly compared to their initial fury.

The crowd's screams reached a fever pitch as we broke apart. Shawe and Harmony's argument grew more heated, their professional demeanor cracking as they gestured at various aspects of our combat. Casper remained the eye of the storm, his stillness a sharp contrast to the chaos around him.

I registered Genta's distinct voice cutting through the noise: "Show him what a monster can do!"

The other C-rank students had joined in now, their earlier hesitation forgotten as they cheered alongside my monster friends. Even Sven, who had once led me into an ambush, was shouting support.

Only Arctur maintained his silence, but I could feel his gaze analyzing every move, every tactical choice. His presence served as a reminder; this wasn't just about winning a duel. This was about proving what we monsters could achieve, even in a system designed to hold us back.

I shifted my weight to compensate for my two damaged legs, the servos whining in protest. My chassis felt heavier with each movement, the alchemical coating wearing thin from repeated flame strikes. The arena's sand had turned to glass beneath our feet from the intensity of Barkatus's burning sword.

Tired? My mental voice projected into his head, taunting. Your flames barely singe now.

Barkatus spat blood onto the ground, his missing tooth evident in his fierce grin. "That so?"

His sword blazed brighter, the flames intensifying until they cast dancing shadows across the arena walls. The heat made the exposed skin of my arm and lower face prickle. The wound at his shoulder seeped crimson through the knitting potion's magical seal, but his stance remained steady.

My Mind Sight tracked every detail: the way his weight shifted, how his breathing had grown slightly labored, the minute tremors in his sword arm. Yet his eyes held the same deadly focus they'd shown at the start of our duel.

I ran quick calculations through my head. Two legs down meant reduced mobility. My shield panels, originally designed to rotate and provide overlapping coverage, now hung as useless, melted chunks of metal. The sword-lance felt heavier in my grip, my mana reserves depleted from repeated use. I was desperately trying to absorb more from the air, to refill what had been spent.

"Let's finish this properly." Barkatus raised his blazing sword, the flames reflecting in his blood-stained teeth.

I felt the temperature rising around us as his blade's enchantment poured out more power. The sand beneath his feet began to bubble and smoke. Whatever energy he'd been conserving, he was channeling it all now.

I adjusted my stance, compensating for my damaged legs by shifting my center of gravity. The remaining functional limbs locked into position, ready to spring despite the grinding protest of worn gears and stressed joints.

The enchanted sword's blade flared hotly, flames erupting upwards to cover the entire blade in fire. I watched through my Mind Sight as the orange flames turned blue, the temperature rising to incredible levels. My remaining four legs held steady against the sand, servos whining with the strain.

Part of me calculated the benefits of rushing forward to interrupt his preparation, but without knowing his plan, I risked leaving myself open. The flames surrounding his sword turned white-hot, and he charged with a battle cry that echoed across the arena.

I responded with my own cry, a shrill, inhuman shriek that cut through both the crowd's cheers and the sword's crackling. Through my Mind Sight, I saw Barkatus flinch at my shrill voice, but he pushed through the pain and continued his charge.

His white-hot blade slashed toward me, ready to melt through my mechanical frame. Instead of dodging, I intercepted the strike with my bare left arm, dropping my spear to catch his blade between my fingers. The impact drove my four legs down, buckling under the tremendous force.

My invulnerable flesh held firm against both the searing heat and razor edge, but I felt my mechanical body failing around it. The defensive frame's steel turned red and began to melt, while the carefully crafted chitin armor burned to ash.

Before my chassis could completely fail, I thrust forward with my sword-lance, driving its tip into Barkatus's dented chest plate. The blow pushed him back, but he maintained pressure with his blazing sword. With the weapon's tip still pressed against him, I channeled every bit of mana I could gather into the hollow barrel's chamber.

I pulled the trigger. The mana erupted.

The point-blank explosion rocked the arena, a flash of blue cutting through his sword's white flames. Sand and shrapnel flew in all directions as the crowd screamed in shock.

When the dust settled, Barkatus lay dozens of feet away, motionless. His expensive enchanted armor lay shattered around him, his chest a bloody, ragged mess.

I crashed to the arena floor, my mechanical frame little more than a twisted, smoking ruin. The heat from Barkatus's blade had done its work; every joint was fused, every gear melted into useless lumps of metal. My remaining four legs splayed uselessly beneath me, locked into their final position.

Through my Mind Sight, I watched the crowd's stunned silence. The explosion had scattered most of the sand away from the center of the arena, leaving a glazed crater where we'd made our final exchange.

Professor Harmony rushed to where Barkatus lay crumpled among the wreckage of his enchanted armor. Shawe approached me more slowly, his face twisted with disgust as he examined my melted chassis.

"Still functioning," Shawe announced with clear disappointment. "The creature lives."

"Barkatus is breathing," Harmony called out, her voice tight with concern.

I focused my sight on Barkatus's broken form. His chest was a mess of blood and torn flesh where my mana blast had struck him point-blank. By all logic, he should have been dead. Yet somehow his chest still rose and fell with shallow breaths.

As if sensing my disbelief, Barkatus lifted his head. Blood coated his teeth, but he managed to flash me a wild grin. The sheer absurdity of his survival nearly made me laugh.

Casper stepped forward, his face as impassive as ever. "Neither combatant can continue. This duel is declared a draw." His voice carried across the silent arena. "The match is concluded."