Jacob's eyes darted around the empty stands, scanning for any sign of movement, but whoever had left the message was already gone. A deep frown settled on his face as his instincts screamed at him that something wasn't right.
"What was that?" he asked, turning back to Ali, who remained completely at ease, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest.
Ali barely spared him a glance before flicking the small note between his fingers. "Just a message for me… Don't worry about it." His voice was calm, almost uninterested, as the ashes from the burned paper flew in the air.
Jacob exhaled sharply, shaking his head before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Alright, back to what we were talking about. To get out of my contract with the Air Guild, I need a higher-up to release me. That's not easy, but there's one man who can do it—the leader of the Air Guild on this level. He's willing to let me go, but there's a condition."
Ali turned his head slightly, finally looking at Jacob with a hint of interest. "What's the catch?"
Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. "The catch is that the item he wants is owned by a merchant, and you know how things are between us and the Merchants' Guild. They don't do us any favours. And the item itself?" He paused for effect. "It's a ring that grants three points in Luck."
Ali narrowed his eyes slightly, processing the information. A ring like that wasn't just rare—it was invaluable. Three points in Luck could mean unpredictable fortune, better loot drops, increased chances of rare encounters, and even an unseen influence on the world itself. It wasn't just an accessory; it was an investment in fate.
Jacob leaned back slightly, watching Ali's reaction. "I need your help getting the ring from the merchant. In return…" He pulled up his interface and sent something to Ali.
A notification appeared before Ali's eyes. He glanced at the details and immediately saw the image of an item:
"Blessed Summoner's Gloves"
Beneath the name was an image of two sleek black leather gloves, intricately woven with golden patterns that formed a complex enchantment across the palms.
Ali's eyes flicked down to the item description.
"Once per day, when the wearer summons a contracted minion, they may summon another minion of equal cost for free."
For a summoner, this was beyond valuable—it was game-changing.
Silence stretched between them, but something shifted in the air.
CRACK.
Jacob's body tensed as the floating metal sphere beside Ali suddenly crumbled, breaking apart into dozens of tiny fragments that clattered onto the floor of the stands. This highlighted the high level of Telekinesis Ali had reached with his training so far.
Ali stood up slowly, his cold black eyes locking onto Jacob. His voice was eerily calm.
"You had me followed."
The words hung in the air like a blade.
Jacob's breathing hitched. A single bead of sweat trickled down his temple, but to his credit, he didn't back down.
"I had to," Jacob admitted, his voice louder than necessary, as if to convince himself as much as Ali. "I needed to find something that would make you agree to this deal."
Ali stared at him for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose, his killing intent fading—just slightly. "Send me everything you know about the merchant."
Jacob nodded immediately.
Ali turned on his heel, walking toward the exit. "I'll get the ring," he said without looking back. "Then we'll talk about what's going to happen to you."
Jacob's mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He clenched his fists, frustration burning inside him as Ali disappeared through the exit of the Training Grounds.
Jacob hated uncertainty more than anything else, he feared it and especially if it involved his future.
Far from the training fields, deep underground in the hidden halls of the Death Guild, Evelyn sat at an elegant desk inside her private office. The room smelled of expensive perfume and aged leather, filled with piles of contracts, stamped documents, and black wax-sealed letters—all carrying the mark of Death.
Behind her, Ciline, was carefully braiding Evelyn's hair with skilled fingers.
The heavy wooden door creaked open, and a slender woman dressed in tight black assassin's garb stepped in, her lower face covered by a cloth mask. She dropped to one knee and bowed.
"Madam," she said softly. "I delivered the message."
Evelyn didn't pause in her paperwork. "Where was he?"
"He was in the training field stands with the apostle of the Air Guild. I couldn't get any closer without revealing myself, so I do not know the content of their conversation."
Evelyn finally set down her quill and pressed her black wax seal onto a fresh contract. "They seem close," she murmured. "Ali doesn't talk to anyone besides him."
Ciline tightened Evelyn's braid slightly, her lips pressing together in displeasure. "That's exactly why you shouldn't trust him."
Evelyn sighed, finally looking up at her friend. "Ciline, stop worrying. I know what I'm doing."
Ciline crossed her arms. "Evelyn, I'm telling you—there's something wrong with that man. I can feel it."
Evelyn simply smirked, dismissing the concern with a wave of her hand. "Don't be ridiculous."
She turned to the assassin still kneeling before her. "Go. Make sure nothing disturbs my date tonight."
The assassin nodded and disappeared into the shadows.
Evelyn picked up a glowing crystal ball from her desk—her line of communication with the higher-ups. The moment Zain had announced the Adventurers' Guild, her workload had tripled. New contracts, new alliances, new targets.
Her eyes glowed faintly as she activated the device.
Ali had time to kill, so he made his way to the Arena, settling into the mostly empty stands. The massive stone coliseum, usually packed with spectators, now stood eerily quiet—most players were still out in the city, reeling from the announcement of the Adventurers' Guild. That suited Ali just fine. The lack of a crowd meant fewer distractions, and at the moment, he was more interested in the fights than the politics outside.
His dark eyes swept over the combatants below, his gaze locking onto a towering blonde man standing barefoot in the sand. The man had striking European features, a thick beard, and piercing blue eyes that reflected an almost animalistic excitement. His massive, battle-scarred frame was completely bare from the waist up, revealing a physique that looked like it had been carved from stone.
Opposite him stood a woman clad in an elegant green robe, her slender fingers wrapped around a twisted wooden wand. The insignia on her chest marked her as a member of the Nature Guild.
Ali leaned back in his seat, resting his chin on his knuckles. 'Never seen any of their fighters before…'he mused, deciding to watch closely.
The moment the match started, the blonde giant exploded forward with startling speed for his massive frame. His bare feet slammed into the sand, kicking up dust as he closed the gap between them in a heartbeat.
But his opponent was already reacting.
The Nature Guild woman swiftly swung her wand in an elegant arc, and the ground trembled beneath them.
BOOOOM.
A massive flower burst forth from the sand, blooming in an instant to create a thick wall of petals between them. As soon as it opened, the flower released a dense, green mist, a toxic cloud of venomous spores that billowed out in all directions.
Ali immediately recognised the tactic—restrict vision, control the battlefield, force the opponent into a disadvantage. But instead of hesitating, the blonde warrior did something unexpected.
He grinned.
Then, without a second thought, he lunged straight into the poison cloud.
But the man wasn't just charging blindly. The second he entered the mist, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs to their limit.
Then—
WHOOSH.
With a powerful exhale, he released a blast of wind that swept through the battlefield, dispersing the poison in a single breath.
Ali's fingers twitched slightly against the armrest.
'Wind magic…? Who the hell is this guy?'
Below, the Nature Guild woman narrowed her eyes as she realised her cover had been blown away—literally. She took a step back, raising her wand again as the blonde behemoth circled her like a predator, his powerful legs kicking up the sand with every step.
Then, with another flick of her wrist—
CRACK.
A thick vine erupted from the ground, twisting and writhing like a serpent before coiling protectively around her, its spiked edges bristling as if waiting for something—or someone—to get too close.
At the same time, the giant flower behind her closed its petals, beginning to reabsorb the lingering poison from the air. Within moments, the battlefield was clear, revealing the muscular warrior standing behind her, his massive fist already cocked back for a strike.
Ali's eyes sharpened.
Then he saw it—
A golden die spinning above the blonde's head.
The six-sided dice tumbled through the air, shimmering with a faint glow, before finally landing on a single dot.
Ali immediately noticed the shift in the blonde's expression—a brief moment of frustration flashed across his features, as if he had just been cheated.
And then—
CRACK.
His fist connected squarely with the woman's face…
And did absolutely nothing.
Ali's eyes flicked back to the floating golden die.
'Bad luck.'
SNAP.
BOOOOOOOOOOOM.
Before the blonde could react, the vine lashed out, striking him across the chest with the force of a steel whip.
He was launched backward, his massive body flipping through the air before he came crashing down headfirst into the sand.
The impact sent a cloud of dust and dirt flying, his hulking form skidding across the arena floor before finally coming to a painful stop, arms and legs sprawled out in an undignified heap.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
Then—
The blonde warrior groaned, pushing himself up with one massive arm before spitting out a mouthful of sand.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw, then turned his gaze toward the bright sky above.
And then—
"PUTAIN DE MERDE!"
He roared in frustration, his thick accent unmistakably French, before cursing loudly in his native tongue.
Ali smirked.
'This just got interesting.'
———————
Author here, this concept of fighter is one I've thought of for a while, every attribute is very important. Do not think Spirit is worth more than other attributes, I will create fighters for every attribute and they will be unique and a fun read. Also heads up to some heavy R18 coming up soon…
Please donate some of your power stones, it would help my ff massively.
Five chapters ahead of webnovel on patreon.com/Rondo312