by Jakob Tanner
Who does she think she is!?
“You’re cocky for a dumb girl,” Kai finally replied to Casey’s taunts. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish you off quickly.”
Kai triggered his waterbringer trait once more.
This time, however, he created a tidal wave below his feet, sending him high into the air.
He then materialized a silver trident from his climber’s pouch.
“I’m going to gut you like a fish,” he hissed.
There was no way the human girl would be able to beat him while he had this height advantage. She was done for.
And yet, the girl didn’t seem fazed by Kai’s power in the slightest.
In fact, she appeared to be grinning up at him.
“Absolutely perfect,” she said. “You’ve given me the perfect opportunity to showcase my newest invention!”
The human girl leaped in the air and materialized two large folded pieces of paper and quickly strapped them to her back.
What is she doing?
Kai had his answer in seconds as the human girl soared to meet him head on, high in the air.
Kai couldn’t believe it.
Those two folded up pieces of paper were actually...wings?
The girl soared past him and was now the one looming above him.
The tables of the battle had turned with remarkable speed.
The human girl flapped her wings and looked sternly over Kai, clutching his trident on top of the massive swirling wave he had created.
The girl flapped her wings and held her arms out, one on top of the other.
A new swirl of air formed around her hands and an incredibly long wind katana took shape.
The girl lifted it above her head, preparing to strike Kai.
As she swung her massive wind katana towards Kai, she shouted, “You should have never underestimated me!”
Kai lifted his trident to block the attack, but the force and power of the strike was too much.
It smashed right through him, creating a massive divide with his own tidal wave.
He was sent hurling to the ground, smashing into the stone of the fighting arena.
His vision went black.
The crowd erupted with cheers and applause.
The mercenary’s D-ranker was completely knocked out.
In the process, the human D-rank girl had wrecked a quarter of the fighting arena.
Everyone watched with amazement as the girl did a loop with her paper origami wings and slowly brought herself back down to the arena square.
She took a quick bow and everyone hollered and cheered even more.
It has been known that the United Floors Alliance Tournament is an event where legends truly begin, where the greatest climbers get dubbed the names they go on to be known for the rest of their careers.
Many point to that morning as the birth of the human climber known as The Sky Angel.
58
Max and the rest of the team all exchanged a look of shocked amazement.
“I felt confident in Casey,” said Blake. “But damn, I hadn’t been that confident.”
Casey dematerialized her wings and put them away before she started to walk back towards them.
She grinned and playfully brushed dirt off her hands.
“Easy peasy,” she said. “Looks like you’re up next, Max.”
Max grimaced.
“Don’t remind me,” he said, looking across to the other team stationed across the ring.
“What’s wrong?” Casey asked.
“It’s just that I’m up against the weirdest guy on their team.”
The middle-aged man wearing a one piece pajama suit jumped up and down, clapping his hands.
Max could hear him from across the way.
“My turn! My turn!” he said gleefully.
Max felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Be careful with this one, Max,” said Harold. “That man is dangerous.”
Max nodded his head.
Well, there was no getting out of fighting this guy, so he might as well get it over with.
He walked onto the fighting square.
The two teams were now tied with one win and one loss each.
This fight would be the turning point.
Max clenched his fists, readying himself.
This was his chance to help his team strike forward towards victory.
The strange man known as The Toddler stepped up into the fighting ring.
He titled his head and grinned at Max.
The smile was menacing and made Max feel sick just looking at the deranged man.
There was something incredibly off-putting about seeing a forty-year old man dress and act like a baby.
The beginning of the match was declared and Max took a step towards the man.
The man lifted up a single finger and wagged.
“Hold on!” he said, cheerfully. “We don’t even know what we’re going to play yet!”
Max looked at the man quizzically.
What is up with this dude?
The Toddler stretched out his hands and materialized a large treasure chest that had the words “Toy Box” written across it.
The Toddler fell to his knees with manic glee all over his face. He reached out his hands to flip open the toy box like it were a magic treasure chest.
Max clenched his fists and prepared to strike.
Why am I waiting for this guy to do whatever weird ability he has?
Max figured the best defense was a good offense, so he rushed towards The Toddler.
The old man in the stained pajamas looked up and wagged his finger, “Be careful! Anyone who attacks the toy box before it presents me with my toy will go, ‘Bye-Bye’, like my stupid little brother.”
A cold chill pulsed through Max and he braked himself from moving any closer.
Did this guy just admit to murdering his sibling?
The very idea enraged Max and simultaneously made him feel sick to his stomach. It made him think of his sister Elle.
A little sister was someone you were supposed to protect.
To break that oath and then to so casually scoff it off made Max want to beat this guy to a pulp even more than he had before.
The man opened up his toy box and a bright light shone on his face. His eyes bulged and he clapped his hands together, happily.
“Oh goody! We’re going to play my favorite game!”
Hermia stood in the viewing box beside Regulus, overlooking the tournament round down below.
Even from way up where they were, she suddenly felt a chill in her body, like the arena was getting cooler.
“I thought we weren’t using any air conditioning during the fights,” said Hermia, looking to Regulus. “To do so would cause an exploitable advantage to certain trait users more than others.”
Regulus’ face was pale. “That chill you’re feeling isn’t the stadium. It’s that man on the mercenary team’s trait. Look.”
Light flecks of snow were falling in the battle square overtop the human climber and the mercenary man.
“That man is strange,” sighed Hermia. “He creeps me out.”
“He’s worse than creepy,” Regulus explained. “I thought there was something familiar about him but I couldn’t put my finger on it until now. It’s his trait. I’ve heard of him. In some parts of the tower he’s infamously known as The Kid Butcher.”
Hermia’s eyes widened. “What?”
“He’s had a lot of nicknames over the years: The Toddler, Little Timmy, The Infant Murderer. Not much is known about him beyond rumors and hearsay. We’re pretty sure he grew up in one of the city-states higher up. Nightmare City, if I remember correctly.”
Hermia shuddered.
She could not think of many good wholesome people to have come out of Nightmare City. Worse, to gain infamy in a place like that means you have to be in the highest tier of psychotic, murderous, and downright heinous in your actions.
“So what did he do?”
Hermia asked.
“Just as he revealed a second ago. It’s been believed that he killed his innocent younger brother for simply trying to play with him and his precious toy box. Nothing has been proven, though. Then, when the parents found out, they tried to get him taken away. The kid went on a rampage, allegedly murdering his parents and the officials that had come to collect him.”
Hermia shuddered.
She was supposed to be an impartial observer of the tournament, and that included this fight; but there was something about the human team and the red-haired climber in particular that she couldn’t help secretly rooting for.
But now she was worried for the young human fighting this round.
The mercenary fellow wasn’t just a powerful fighter.
He wasn’t even just a cold-blooded killer.
One could fight against someone like that with a plan.
But planning and strategizing against this guy won’t necessarily work.
How do you fight someone who’s insane?
The little flecks of snow swirling around them quickly grew into thicker puffs.
Within seconds the fighting square was filled with snow just below Max’s knees.
“What is this?” said Max.
The Toddler’s toy box faded away and the man jumped to his feet and clapped his hands.
“The game is called Snow Fort War,” shouted The Toddler. “Whoever makes the snow fort and destroys the others, wins. There’s a five-minute prep phase. No attacking until after or else automatic loss.”
Max took in the mercenary’s words.
Interesting.
The man’s power had similarities to The Gambler who he’d faced off against back in Elestria. It was abstract and malleable. It essentially created scenarios and conditions to fight in—so it was an incredibly powerful environment-altering ability. The counter-balance to such an impressive ability was the randomized element to the toy box; there was no guarantee what game or toy would pop out of it at a given time.
“And what if I lose?” Max asked.
“You fall into a coma for six months,” giggled The Toddler. He then grinned, manically. “But don’t worry about waking up. I’ll kill you as soon as you go under.”
59
Snow continued to fall onto the arena square.
Max looked around in a panic.
“Okay, time to get started on my fort,” The Toddler gleefully declared, gleefully.
The older man fell to his knees in the snow and began gathering it together, shaping it into a mound.
Max felt his heart thump in his chest.
He was feeling a mixture of confusion and panic.
Is my final fight of this tournament really going to be a glorified snowball fight?
Max shook his head.
This was no time to be proud.
He had a snow fort to build.
Max fell to his knees and started gathering up puffs of snow.
The key to a good snow castle was to not get too fancy or cover too much space. You wanted an impenetrable mound.
A wall against your enemy.
Once he had a defensive line built he could then figure out his offensive strategy against The Toddler.
If the goal was to destroy the other person’s base, he was eventually going to have to get close enough to attack The Toddler’s fort.
The Toddler giggled from his side of the arena as he went about building his own snow castle.
The laughter was unnerving.
Max ignored him and focused on building his snow fort.
There was another minute of the prep phase before they were allowed to attack each other.
Max looked up quickly to see if he could take in what strategy The Toddler was going for.
He figured he shouldn’t be unquestioningly confident in his own plan; especially, if The Toddler had played this game before.
When Max looked up, he didn’t like what he was seeing.
The Toddler had created a four-by-four wall for him to turtle inside. Worse, he had created five snowmen as well and it looks like he could control them from his fort.
Now Max would have to fight through that squad of snowmen just to get into damage dealing range.
There was only thirty seconds now until the offensive phase of the game began.
The snowmen viciously came towards him and his fort.
Crap.
But then Max had a realization.
Outside of destroying the other person’s snow fort, there weren’t any other hard and fast rules. It was just like The Gambler. There was a flexibility here that could be exploited.
The fine print was open to interpretation.
The Toddler grinned behind the comfort of his snow fort’s walls.
He was so eager to beat that human boy at his favorite game, he desperately wanted to peek outside the walls.
But he knew he shouldn’t.
The snowmen would crush the boy.
He snickered to himself and fondly imagined the boy falling unconscious, lying on the ground like a little rag doll; and like a doll, The Toddler wanted to rip the boy up from the seams and drain him from the insides, creating a big glorious mess.
Soon, he smiled to himself.
He felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead.
At first, he thought it was the result of some deep-seated anxiousness or impatience, but then he realized it was getting warmer.
That can’t be right, he thought. This is a snowy game!
But it began to get hotter and hotter.
What’s going on?
The Toddler decided he had to look up from his snow fort and see what was happening.
He peeked his eyes up out from the wall. His eyes bulged with horror.
The snowy landscape his toy box had created had disappeared.
Flames filled the fighting square.
His vicious snowmen were nothing but puddles.
How is this possible!
No one beats me at my favorite game!
Across the arena stood the red-haired human boy, holding a weapon he’d never seen the boy wield before.
Is that a freaking flamethrower!?
Max grinned at the hot blazing flames around him.
The Toddler’s snowmen squad was destroyed and now it was just a matter of taking aim at the snow fort and pulling the trigger of his flamethrower.
“Looks like this round is going to me,” Max grinned.
He was very confident now, which was surprising, that given a minute ago he was the opposite.
But that’s when he remembered he had a flame-based ability in his arsenal. The flame katana he’d fused from Blake and Casey’s traits.
But he hadn’t been one hundred percent sure the sword would work.
Yes, the fire could melt the snow, but the snow could also melt the fire. It was like the two abilities canceled each other out.
What he really needed was a long range area of effect flame attack.
So he had rolled the dice and fused the flame sword ability with The Toddler’s toy box ability.
In return he’d created a brand spanking new ability called The Pyromaniac’s Toolbox.
Like the toy box ability, it was a randomized item or ability-generating trait that would create power specifically for a pyromaniac.
And there was nothing an arsonist loved more than a flamethrower.
Max watched The Toddler look on with shock.
The key to Max’s victory was recognizing that part of Toddler’s power was forcing you into the childlike mindset of a school playground game. The vicious snowmen had shown him that. It was all about one-upmanship.
It was the rock-beats-scissors-until-I-bring-a-nuke style of thinking.
Max pulled the trigger on his flamethrower and let out a massive stretch of flame onto The Toddler’s snow fort.
The victory was Max’s.
He won by using schoolyard rules: aka. someone messes with your snow fort, you go over and kick thei
rs down until there’s nothing but rubble.
Or, in Max’s case, just torch it all with a flamethrower.
60
“NO FAIR!” screamed The Toddler, slamming his fists into the puddles that were once the four walls of his snow fort.
They were the last words the strange man uttered before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed into a coma on the ground.
Mother watched it all from their team’s section in the stands.
The insane idiot won’t wake up for six months, the old woman thought. What a nuisance.
They would have to factor that into their escape plans later; or, they would just leave the psychotic man-child to the Caesarian prisons and torture chambers.
He’d served his purpose, and not that well at that. What more did they need him for?
Caesarian healers rushed out to collect the mercenary and carried him away on a stretcher, while Regulus announced that Max Rainhart of the human team had won the third round of the tournament.
The crowd cheered with excitement.
Just you wait, Mother thought to herself. All you fools won’t be laughing and cheering soon.
Mother turned to the hooded figure on their team.
“It looks like you’re up,” said the old woman. “We’re at one win and two losses now. You have to win this match.”
The hooded figure didn’t say anything, simply walking past her towards the fighting ring.
“You know what to do,” said Mother. “Don’t let us down.”
The hooded figure stepped forth onto the arena stage.
Mother grinned.
Their team’s B-ranker was their true hidden trump card.
Blake did some stretches while a cigarette burned in his mouth.
“Should you be smoking so close to the match?” Sarah asked with concern.
“Heck, no,” said Blake. “This is my lucky cigarette. I won’t be able to win without inhaling all of its chemical goodness.”
Everyone made a face at Blake.
They weren’t going to argue with him right before his big match.