M.S. Davidson
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52. Something More Deliberate
🕑 Added 2025-09-13 16:01:12 +0000 UTCThe armor was impossibly light—nothing like the suffocating black leather I'd been trapped in. This was liquid silk with steel bones, flexing with every breath while mana trickled back into my reserves. Not the flood I would feel after removing the armor, but with the Emberseed around my neck, I at least had some passive regeneration.
Much better than feeling like a mummified corpse covered in trapped sweat.
We'd barely cleared the stairs into the lobby when curiosity got the better of me. "So how do these scales actually—"
THWAP.
Diana's sheathed rapier cracked across my ribs like a baseball bat. The impact sent me sliding backward across the polished floor, arms windmilling for balance. Where the blade struck, the armor compressed into rigid plates, then melted back to smooth the instant the threat passed.
It hurt like hell, but a hit that vicious should've shattered bone. Instead, it felt like getting punched through a thick mattress.
"Fucking ow," I gasped, but grinned despite myself. "Non-Newtonian fluid mechanics in magical armor? That's actually awesome."
A commotion behind us drowned out my nerdy delight. Shouting voices, scattered curses, and the unmistakable sound of something barreling through the Tower like a wrecking ball with paws.
"Hey, slow down!" someone yelled.
"What the fuck is going on?" Diana snapped at a passing Initiate, who just shrugged and kept walking.
I extended Valor's reach and immediately started laughing. "That's just my dog."
Red exploded through the Tower doors like a furry cannonball, taking the stairs three at a time before physics reminded him that momentum was a bitch. He tumbled down the last few steps in a spectacular display of flailing limbs, rolled twice, popped up like a jack-in-the-box, and sprinted toward us with his tongue lolling out and pure joy blazing in his eyes.
Valor screamed warnings about incoming impact, trajectory, optimal dodge points—
I ignored every single one. He was my dog.
Red launched himself at the last second, all forty kilos of pure enthusiasm slamming into my chest. The armor absorbed the impact as I was bowled over, but there was no protection against the aggressive face-licking campaign that followed.
"Okay, okay!" I laughed, wrestling him off me. "I'm sorry I didn't come get you, you furry missile."
Apparently satisfied that I'd learned my lesson, Red trotted over to Diana, gave her a thorough sniff-inspection, then sat down and released his signature honk. For a dog, he really didn't bark much.
Diana stared at him for a long moment, clearly fighting some internal battle. "Fine." She pulled slices of bread from her mana sanctum and tossed them skyward. Red snatched them out of the air with surgical precision.
I stared at him in betrayal. "Are you fucking serious?"
Red shot me pure side-eye, the canine equivalent of What? I'm expanding my snack network.
"Cassandra mentioned he's very food motivated," Diana said with the tone of someone who'd been thoroughly manipulated. "Now he won't stop asking whenever he sees me."
"Yep. That's how he gets you," I said, scratching behind his ears.
***
The Trial Grounds buzzed with wounded Initiates nursing injuries I could feel through Valor—sharp pulses of pain that made my fingers itch, like I could reach out and fix them.
The moment Diana emerged from the portal behind me, half the pavilion struggled to their feet, offering respectful greetings and tired smiles.
"Oh please, sit your asses down," she said with a dismissive wave. "Especially you." She pointed at a Vildar who immediately slumped back down, a distinct pulse of life-aspected mana radiating from him.
A healing pill? When the hell could I sense mana in others?
My aura picked up Cass just as she crested the stairs from the trial area. The moment she spotted me in my new gear, she burst out laughing.
"You look like some dainty noble's honor-guard," she said, throwing a punch at my shoulder. The armor instantly hardened at the point of impact—I barely felt it.
Her eyes widened. "Whoa, it's automatic!"
"Completely automatic," I said quickly, hoping she wouldn't decide to test its limits. "Please don't hit me again to confirm this."
But Cass had already shifted her attention, crouching down to give Red the full-body petting experience he clearly lived for. "What a guy, yes you are, yes you are!" She clapped his haunch, and his tail went supernova with excitement.
"What the fuck did I miss last night, and why is Diana feeding him now?" I asked.
"We figured you were busy with Katie, so Red spent the night with us." Cass stood up, brushing dog hair off her hands. "Turns out, we have an understanding."
"Busy with Katie?" Diana's eyebrows shot up, a sly smile creeping across her face like she'd just discovered blackmail material.
"Nope!" Cass answered before I could open my mouth. "Your little Seeker was sleeping on the floor like a monk."
A hand swatted me upside the head so fast even Valor barely registered the movement.
"Ow!"
"It has to be a fucking Terran thing, right?" Diana asked the universe at large. "No one is that stupid. You saved her life, she threw you a party—at least let the girl down easy if you're not interested."
Cass was laughing now, and I swear even Red looked like he was judging me.
I threw my hands in the air. "Okay!"
Walking toward the ledge, I stared out over the trial buildings scattered across the mountainside. They knew I had to talk to Katie. Hell, I knew I had to talk to Katie. But fear wasn't what was holding me back.
I'd been on this planet for maybe ten days. In a few more, I might get thrown right off it again.
This wasn't about protecting her. I was protecting myself. After the tournament, if I were staying here, I'd finally do something about it.
Red shoved himself under my hand like a furry emotional support animal, and I ruffled his fur with reckless abandon. Having a dog in this insane world—even a weird one who apparently had networking skills—was worth everything.
Cass stepped up beside me, her voice gentler now. "We're just screwing with you. With everything going on, we get it." She smiled. "But seriously, Ben. She was in your bed."
"Yeah… I know." I chuckled despite myself. Trying to explain the concept of being a Paladin and chivalry was going to take too long. "You do a trial yet?"
"Not yet. About to run Versatility, which scares the shit out of me."
"Actually, Cassandra, I'd like Ben to run that one right now—if you don't mind," Diana interrupted.
"Not at all," Cass said, stepping back.
A sharp scoff erupted from the group behind us.
"Seriously?"
Dorian stalked halfway over, his face twisting into righteous outrage like someone had personally offended his bloodline.
"You're just changing the system now?" he sneered. "What's next? Handing out participation trophies?"
Diana slowly turned to face him, and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Not only are you taking an opportunity away from an Initiate," Dorian continued, clearly not reading the room, "now you're just handing it to the Terran? Some fair training grounds this is. My father will hear of this."
"Fuck you, Dorian, I don't give a shi—" Cass started, but Diana raised one finger, and she immediately stopped.
The air itself seemed to thicken as Diana took a single step forward. Even Red's tail stopped wagging.
"Oh no," Diana said, her voice dropping to something that could cut glass. "The Archon who is graciously letting you use her Trial Grounds is making a change—instead of watching you fail repeatedly like some tragic entertainment." Her lips curved in a smile that belonged in a horror movie. "Please, please go complain to your father, like the privileged little weed that you are. I look forward to his sternly worded letter."
Dorian's scowl deepened, but even he wasn't stupid enough to push an Archon any further. He spun on his heel and stormed back through the portal like a toddler having a tantrum.
"I'm pretty sure it would straight-up kill him to apologize," I muttered. "But that was… intense, Diana."
Diana shrugged, but there was something calculating in her eyes. "This should be enough to get Marco into my office tonight. He's been avoiding me since Maris arrived—primarily because he's been selling her information, including everything about your arrival on Ark, Ben." A wicked grin spread across her face.
Oh shit.
"Is that true?"
Malcolm approached from the stairs, looking like he'd been through a meat grinder—clearly fresh from a trial. But his expression wasn't exhausted. It was razor-sharp with barely contained fury.
"Dorian's father is why my mother is here? Did he know?"
"What do you think?" Diana replied with the tone of someone dropping a bomb and watching the fallout.
Malcolm's face went through several emotions before settling on cold resolve. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the portal with the kind of purposeful stride that usually ended with someone getting punched.
"He's such a promising young Arcanist," Diana said conversationally, watching him go. "Unfortunate that he comes from a family of barbarians. He came here to escape his mother. She knew he was here, of course, but after the tournament, she'll want to take him away from the treacherous Monster Hunters." She sighed dramatically. "Shame."
I glanced toward the portal, wondering if Malcolm was planning to confront Dorian. He looked like he was ready to turn someone into paste.
"Dara," Diana said to the empty air.
"Yes?"
Dara materialized beside us as if she'd been waiting for permission. Uncomfortably close, as always.
Diana shot her a look of deep dissatisfaction but didn't bother voicing it. "I'd like to set up the Versatility trial with the changes we discussed for Ben—Jeremy says he can take it. Think you can handle that?"
"Of course," Dara said smoothly, then turned to me with a smile that promised either great fun or imminent pain. "Right this way, Seeker."
It was definitely going to be pain.
I glanced at Cass, who was back to petting Red and looking completely unbothered that I was about to walk into some custom trial.
"Don't die?" she said cheerfully.
"That's… reassuring." I looked up at Diana, who just motioned for me to follow Dara.
Shrugging, I followed the tower spirit down into the valley. Her steps were weird—like she was floating just above the ground rather than actually walking.
We reached one of the trial buildings, and with a flourish, Dara waved her hand. The door flared with deep blue energy before sliding open with a soft hiss.
She turned to me with a grin that belonged on a shark. "Good luck beating this one!"
Before I could ask what the hell that meant, the door slammed shut behind me with a sound like a vault Sealing.
Another door hissed open ahead, revealing a massive circular room that looked like someone had designed it specifically to mess with people's heads. The floor was polished black marble—so reflective it might as well have been a mirror. Someone had marked a huge white circle in the center, leaving about two meters of space between the line and the walls.
The mirrored walls made the space feel infinite and claustrophobic at the same time. Walking felt like moving through a funhouse designed by someone with a psychology degree and a sadistic streak. At least they'd had the mercy not to mirror the ceiling—just flat, smooth stone maybe fifteen meters up.
At the center of the room stood a smooth silver pole, stretching from floor to ceiling like a chrome spine.
On the opposite side of the circle, a white stone golem knelt in perfect meditation, roughly my size but radiating a stillness that suggested coiled violence.
Dara's voice echoed around me. "Normally, this room is a gauntlet—a survival test with an existential lesson." Her tone had shifted from helpful administrator to gleeful sadist. "But we figured you could use something more… deliberate. This is a style of game you may encounter in the latter rounds of the Grand Tournament."
Game? This looked more like an arena than a game.
"Your goal is simple: slide the pole out of the circle. The golem will attempt to stop you. Be warned—it has been adjusted to Seeker level and will mirror your capabilities."
That sounded ominous.
The moment I stepped into the circle, the golem's eyes flared to life, and it rose to its feet in one fluid motion.
It moved in perfect sync with me as I approached the pole, like a reflection come to life. I reached the metal first and grabbed it, pulling with everything I had. The pole resisted immediately, as if something was actively fighting against me. I barely slid it a meter before the golem was on me.
Valor screamed a warning as a stone fist came flying at my head with enough force to crack a skull. I twisted away, but the golem's body snapped in an impossible direction—its other hand carrying the spinning momentum. The second strike slammed into my back like a sledgehammer, driving me face-first into the marble.
The armor absorbed the impact, but the way the golem had corrected its attack mid-motion was going to be a serious problem. It fought like it had joints in places where joints shouldn't exist.
I pushed myself up just in time to watch the pole slowly slide back to the center of the room, apparently on autopilot.
"Oh, come on!" I groaned.
I studied the golem as it returned to its unnaturally still stance. The moment I got within range, it woke up, shifting into what looked like a professional fighting stance. Deciding to test its reactions, I let it swing at me and danced backward.
That was a mistake.
The golem launched itself through the air in a flying knee that belonged in a martial arts movie. I barely had time to bring my hands up before two stone arms slammed down onto my shoulders, staggering me. I dodged a kick that should have been easy—only to take an impossible double axe-handle strike to the ribs as the golem somehow pivoted on one leg while maintaining perfect balance.
The armor was doing work, but the sheer force rattled my bones. I had no idea how many hits it could take before it stopped being helpful.
After three more failed attempts to get past the thing, the pattern became obvious. Whenever I relied on Valor to evade automatically, I left myself wide open for follow-up attacks. I'd gotten too comfortable trusting my aura to do the work, buy my reaction time wasn't enough.
This was what Jeremy had been trying to teach me. He'd forced me to confront this exact weakness—pushed me to fight instead of just reacting. Fighting meant taking the offensive, something I still sucked at.
It had never been an issue with monsters, but fighting people felt different. Like I was afraid of hurting someone, even though everyone here could clearly handle themselves. But this golem? It wasn't a person. And if the Power trial was anything to go by, I was supposed to break it.
But Dara's instructions weren't about beating the golem—they were about getting the pole out of the circle.
So that's exactly what I was going to do.
I walked the perimeter of whatever invisible range activated the golem. It mirrored my steps perfectly, keeping itself positioned between me and the pole like a stone guardian.
A sharp impulse shot through my mind—like when Bravery had first activated.
Kick its ass!
But this time I recognized it. Not Ted, not Winchester. This was coming from my Seal itself, sending me a mental nudge toward action.
Well, at least I had confirmation that I wasn't losing my mind.
I took a few steps back, and the golem went still again. Closing my eyes, I shifted focus inward, into my soul-space.
Ted was kicked back in an Adirondack chair, holding a massive mug of beer and a bowl of popcorn, watching me like I was the evening's entertainment.
"That wasn’t you, was it?" I asked.
He jumped, spilling popcorn all over himself. "Holy fuck, kid—some warning would be nice!" he grumbled, brushing kernels off his lap.
"Did you just yell 'kick its ass'? Because if not, then it came from my Seal."
Ted blinked and stuffed more popcorn into his mouth, turning to stare at Valor like the Seal was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "I didn't say shit."
He tilted his head, trying to see the Seal from different angles. "I don't hear anything, but that doesn't mean much, the thing’s pretty fuckin’ weird as it is."
Shaking my head, I opened my eyes. The golem hadn't moved.
I'd made up my mind. I knew exactly how I was going to get that pole out of the circle.
The moment I rushed forward, the golem mirrored my movement perfectly. It sprinted straight at me, launching into the air for another flying knee. This time, I didn't dodge. No blocking, no deflecting.
I let it connect.
The impact crashed into my chest harder than before, rattling every bone in my body—but instead of trying to absorb it, I used it. I gripped the golem mid-impact, twisting my body and using its own momentum to hurl it backward like a stone missile.
The construct slammed into the pole with a sound like a church bell getting hit by a truck. The sheer force shoved the metal a decent distance toward the edge of the circle.
I didn't slow down.
As the golem crumpled from the impact, I vaulted over it, reaching for the pole. My fingers caught the smooth metal as my momentum carried me forward, legs splaying out. My sudden weight on the pole dragged it along, pushing it even further from the center.
Almost halfway there.
I hadn't even regained my footing before the construct attacked again. As I kicked the pole behind me, trying to send it farther, the golem's fist snapped forward. I blocked it just as the strike twisted into a roundhouse kick that made no anatomical sense whatsoever.
Instead of dodging, I caught the golem's leg and heaved with everything I had. Its body whipped through the air like a stone flail, crashing into the pole again—this time knocking it even farther back.
The moment it hit the ground, it sprang to its feet and lunged—not for me, but for the pole. I cursed as it grabbed the metal and started dragging it back toward the center.
Wrong move. Now it had only one arm to defend itself.
I took off at a sprint, pushing mana into my legs until they burned. The golem twisted to meet me, but I feinted a punch—then dropped low, twisting my body into a full-force dropkick.
It tried to dodge, but it wasn't my target.
Both my feet slammed into the pole with a sound like thunder. The force bent the metal slightly as it skidded across the marble floor—sliding clean out of the circle.
I hit the ground hard, breath coming in sharp gasps, staring up at the smooth ceiling with a grin as a soft chime rang through the chamber.
Pushing myself to my feet, I watched the golem walk back toward the center, the pole slowly gliding behind it like it was on invisible rails.
"That's one," I said, summoning Winchester into my hand.
The golem paused—then, as if responding to a challenge, its arm shifted and rippled. Stone flowed like water, reforming until it had grown into a long, heavy staff that materialized out of thin air.
I blinked at it. "Okay, that's definitely not fair."
Then I grinned, leveling Winchester's orb toward the construct and spinning the staff with a flourish into a Taiji gun stance.
"Round two," I said, rolling my shoulders. "Now I kick your ass."
