Chapter 75: Nothing Personal

I saw William Oh get mad once. It was just a bit scary.

• Tracy Manon, level 35 Announcer

“Frederick, Welcome to Akul.” Stephan said, offering a hand to Frederick Wyrd. The Thorns-build could probably kill him with a handshake, but Wyrd didn’t know that.

“I’ve always thought it was childish to name a Stronghold after yourself.” Frederick said, glancing down at Stephan’s hand, but not shaking it.

“I see you’ve found your own fountain of youth.” Stephan said, ignoring the slight. It was expected. He hadn’t failed to notice the gilded rod of bone that Frederick refused to let go of, either.

“Indeed. You’re going to have to try harder if you want to outlast me, old man.”

“Your seat is right here,” Stephan said, pointing at his own seat. “The seat of honor for a distinguished guest.”

“How gracious.” Frederick muttered, staring at the seat with obvious paranoia before finally sitting down.

“And Mark, I haven’t seen you in ages!” Stephan said, giving Wyrd’s son a great big hug.

“It’s only been half a year,” Mark said, trying to extricate himself from Stephan’s grasp.

“How’s Amanda?” Stephan asked, trying to maintain a straight face. “How’s my daughter?”

Frederick scoffed, and that got under Stephan’s skin, but he muscled it down, focusing his attention on his future son-in-law, who was significantly more tolerable.

“She’s well, sir, I saw her less than a month ago.” Mark said.

“They would be on honeymoon right now if Mark hadn’t botched the emancipation of Oilton.”

“I’m sure.” Stephan said. He was sure ‘emancipation’ was code for ‘conquering’. He was also sure his hated enemy would never let his daughter escape, not even at the expense of his own son’s happiness. In fact, he was counting on it.

The divide between Mark Wyrd and his father was a hair thin crack that a patient artisan could fill with water and let the changing seasons drive the two apart.

Frederick’s view of his son as ‘his’ property, would not allow him to see that crack until it was too late.

“Enough of your chatter. Let’s see this farce you call a tournament,” Frederick said, his feet tapping impatiently, glancing up at the other Lords as they filed into the viewing box.

Stephan guided Mark to his seat and sat beside him.

“I think you’ll find todays matches exciting. There have been many outstanding Climbers among this year’s contenders.”

“This year’s cattle, you mean.” Frederick said, turning his gaze away from the empty arena and towards Stephan. “…Or do you not bid on them?”

“The one who wins the bid may make the first offer.” Stephan clarified. “And the winner is assisted in seeking Lordship.”

Frederick scoffed again.

In a matter of minutes, the tournament was underway again, the fights more frenzied as the competitors struggled to reach the quarterfinal bracket, where the prizes began.

Finally, the match Stephan had been waiting for arrived.

“In our next match, we have the grandson of Baron Akul, Nephir Akul, level 25 Potent Detonator, darling of our city. He has…won every match thus far!

The crowd cheered, and Nephir waved, but it just didn’t have the same energy as before. The cocky grin didn’t manifest quite as brilliantly, and the squeals of young girls weren’t quite so forthcoming.

Stephan smiled and rested his chin on his fist. Better he learn humility here than at the hands of someone like Wyrd.

And his opponent, The level 24 Resourceful Climber, William Oh! leader of the Party of William Oh. So far he has won all of his matches without doing anything entertaining! Let’s see if his streak of boring continues!”

At the mention of ‘William Oh,’ Frederick Wyrd’s knuckles went white around the rod he carried, eyes narrowing.

“Slippery fish.” Wyrd whispered, just loud enough for Stephan’s immense Acuity to pick it up.

Stephan saved that information for later dissection and turned toward Mark Wyrd.

“You see, Resourceful Climber is a Rogue Archetype with an enormous amount of tricks-“

“I know.” Mark Wyrd interrupted, his lips downturned into a scowl.

Stephan frowned and glanced between Frederick Wyrd and his son.

Both of them too focused on the match to notice the unusual reaction they each had to ‘William Oh’.

…Interesting.

***Will***

“So you’re the William Oh I’ve heard so much about!” Nephir Akul said, pointing at Will, levitating above him a bit to add gravitas.

I wonder how he’s doing that. His shields, perhaps? Maybe they’re carrying him around like my hand does. Interesting application. I’m sure Mason is taking notes, given that they have the same starting point.

“I-I’m going to prove that the rumors about y-you are unfounded!” Nephir nearly choked on his words. He was looking a little anemic, having been healed from a near-corpse only a day ago.

Even magical healing drains the body’s resources. Nephir was basically suffering the effects of being forced to clean the entire orphanage in a single day. He was young and could probably shake it off, but it couldn’t be good for his performance this fine morning.

Additionally, the Nuker only had one day’s worth of Charge built up since Loth had tapped him out the day before.

In short, he was in the worst condition that Will could arrange without ‘cheating’.

“I want you to know…I don’t actually enjoy doing this.” Will said.

The Baron’s grandson cocked his head.

“W-What?”

“Fighters, BEGIN!”

A glow of fire began to glow between Nephir’s fingers.

Will slapped it out of his hand, causing a blast of fire to shoot off to the side, dissipating before it reached the audience.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Phantom Hand released the cannonball into Nephir’s chest at a small fraction of it’s max speed.

Gotta figure out what the kid’s shields can do so it’s not over before it begins. Plus, even if he’d been asked to rough him up a bit, an accidental death by chunking would probably not ingratiate himself to Baron Akul.

The Nuker didn’t move as the cannonball hit him, one of the petals of the rose of shield clustered around him crumbling fading away as the cannonball came to a dead stop.

Oh, so it’s like that, Will thought, retrieving the lump of iron.

46 Charges remaining.

Nephir reached down and whipped a throwing knife out of a sheath on his waist.

Will put the Phantom Hand at the end of his wrist action, knocking it aside and causing the throwing knife to go tumbling wildly off-course…before turning towards him, it’s trajectory corrected by a Relic of some kind.

Will took a step forward and the knife whipped past him, trying in vain to turn and come after him again before it ran out of energy and clattered to the ground.

Nephir tried to blast him again, and Will slapped it aside again.

“Something seems to be interfering with Nephir’s hands, but he hasn’t dropped out of the fight yet, and everyone is asking themselves one question: Is William Oh going to finally do something or what?”

Will glanced over his shoulder at the announcer, who seemed to be disappointed with his lack of flair.

Come to think of it, I haven’t actually moved in any of the matches in the arena yet, have I?

“GAH!”

Nephir reached forward, a diffuse wave of Charge flowing past Phantom Hand before resolving into a glowing bead of fire above and behind Will.

Phantom hand, being able to travel at seven hundred miles an hour, whipped up and slapped it upwards before it even started moving towards him.

When Will glanced back down, a shield-infused chakram was spinning through the air, most of the way to him, the pale blue of the shield seemingly crystalized around the weapon.

Oh, interesting. He can use the shields as an alternate form of attack and defense when he runs out of regular Charge.