Shadow Slave

Leo sent the clip to a couple of his buddies and waited in the dark void, chatting with the viewers and laughing about his terrible performance in the duel against the demonic newbie.

‘That Mongrel… there’s something about him…’

Just as he had expected, his friends joined him in the Dreamscape almost immediately after receiving the message.

Yes, his defeat was rather embarrassing… but there was an opportunity in every disaster!

This was going to be a very special broadcast.

A rare and bombastic… crossover episode!

Answering the invitations, two figures joined him in the black void. The viewers grew silent for a moment, and then sent so many reactions that the Broadcast Interface almost crashed.

Well, as expected. Both guests Leo had invited were very prominent duelists, at least as popular as he was himself, or perhaps even more.

One wore a heavy plate armor. There was a castle engraved on its breastplate, and four dragons depicted on his pauldrons and vambraces. This was Daoist Saifer, a renowned swordsman who possessed a powerful Aspect that allowed him to control fire.

The other was a taciturn warrior in a grey silken robe. His alias in the Dreamscape was the Fool, and he was known to be one of the most peculiar and persistent duelists in the professional league.

Leo grinned.

“Hey there, Saifer. Hey there, Fool. Long time no see!”

Saifer scoffed, then pointed at him.

“Leo, my friend. What the hell was that? You got killed by an amateur… in one strike!”

The Fool simply shook his head and remained silent.

Leo coughed in embarrassment and looked down.

“Yeah, well… it’s not like the two of you never tasted a piece of humble pie, is it? If I remember correctly, Queen Bee decimated both of you just last week…”

Saifer grinned.

“I am ready to be killed by our noble Queen every day. But a newbie? Come on…”

Leo shrugged, then pointed to his sword.

“Alright, alright. But there’s a reason the two of you arrived so quickly, right? You saw it too?”

The two duelists glanced at each other, then slowly nodded.

Leo turned to the camera and smiled brilliantly.

“What? None of you battle geniuses have noticed it? Well, well, well. It’s this rare moment when I get to mock my dear viewers and their insufferable expert advice!”

He gestured to his friends, then continued:

“For those Strike Force veterans who still remember the early days of my broadcasting… as you might know, these two distinguished gentlemen are actually not only my colleagues, but also disciples of the same cranky old man who taught me swordsmanship. Basically, the three of us are childhood friends, and we practice the same ingenious battle style. The Roaring Lion Strike style.”

He paused, and then sighed mysteriously.

“And while it hurts my pride a little to have been defeated by an unknown novice, the real reason why I was so shocked by our duel… IS… YOU WON’T BELIEVE IT… oh yeah, before we do this, I should mention the sponsor of today’s…”

Saifer rolled his eyes and interrupted him.

“Cut it, Leo! What he was going to say is that the masked guy used the Roaring Lion Strike style to defeat that dolt. And while there are many — lots and lots, really — people who can beat that loud nuisance in a heartbeat, the fact that someone done so while using our own style is very interesting.”

Leo glanced at his friend with vitriol, but then gave up on the ad break and nodded.

“Indeed. So, the three of us are going to go and see who that Mongrel really is, and what is he really capable of…”

***

Sunny felt that something weird was going on in the Colosseum after he dispatched the young man in azure armor. The other Awakened seemed to stare at him with a bit of confusion… shock, even.

The same went for the human spectators in the amphitheater. Many had changed seats to get closer to him.

‘What’s the matter with all these people? Did I go overboard and move too fast?’

But no, he had measured his dash to not appear too powerful. Maybe they just liked the spectacle? Sunny was, indeed, giving them a good show. Not that doing so was his intention…

‘Anyway… why is no one challenging me? Stop wasting my time, people! I’m on a tight schedule!’

Indeed, no one in the small crowd of Awakened that had been waiting for their turn to fight him seemed willing to step forward now. Sunny stared at them in boredom for a few minutes, trying to understand what was going on. They had been very eager just a few moments ago, no?

Then, someone finally walked toward him, unsheathing a formidable-looking sword.

The guy was wearing plate armor, with an intricate engraving of a castle and four dragons decorating its polished surface. He looked strong, noble, and experienced.

‘You. Must. Be. Kidding me!’

The same style… he was obviously practicing the same damn style!

As Sunny’s eyes narrowed, the voice of the Dreamscape announced:

“Daoist Saifer has challenged Mongrel!”

Before the guy in plate armor could even attack, Sunny unceremoniously bashed him in the face with the pommel of the odachi, swiped his foot, and then viciously thrust the tip of the great sword into the narrow crack of his visor.

As blood flowed from the steel helmet, the voice of the Dreamscape thundered once again:

“Mongrel has won!”

The faces in the crowd grew a bit pale.

‘What the hell is wrong with these people?! Is there no one here who knows a different style?!’

Before Sunny could even clean the blade of the Shadow Serpent, a new challenger approached.

This one was wearing a grey silken robe.

“The Fool has challenged Mongrel!”

The bastard was wielding a heavy saber… and using the same cursed battle art!

Sunny let out a low growl and dashed forward.

The Fool turned out to be more nimble and aware than the last two fighters. He managed to sidestep the attack… sadly, it had turned out to be just a feint. Before he could correct his footing, the odachi pierced his chest and exited from his back.

Sunny tore the great sword out of the enemy’s body and stepped back in frustration.

The man in the grey silken robe swayed and stared at the growing red patch on his silk garment. Looking up at Sunny, he silently gave him a thumbs up, then collapsed to the sand in a rain of sparks.

“Mongrel has won!”

‘Curse it all! Do I need to go to a professional arena to find a proper opponent?!’

These people were not, exactly, bad fighters… the three last ones especially… but why on earth were all of them so similar to each other?

Sunny looked around and noticed that the Colosseum was deathly silent. Everyone was staring at him with strange expressions.

‘Wait… don’t tell me…’

He scowled behind the mask, a terrible suspicion entering his mind.

‘Is… is this whole arena meant for practitioners of a single style? Was I breaking some unspoken taboo this whole time? That would be a bastard move… no, wait, that doesn’t make any sense. I was using the same style as them…’

Suddenly, a familiar face approached him from the crowd. It was the young man in the azure armor. Lion Beater, or whatever…

‘No… oh gods, please no! I don’t want to fight him again…’

The young man stopped a few meters away from Sunny, hesitated for a few moments, then smiled and asked in a light tone:

“Mongrel, my friend… if you don’t mind me asking… what are you even doing here, in this amateur arena?”

Sunny rolled his eyes behind the mask. The answer was really simple: he was here to learn.

But he couldn’t say that, of course. He was also too frustrated to come up with a creative lie.

Staring at the young man, he allowed the Soul Serpent to disappear and become a tattoo again, then said somberly:

“I am here to unlearn.”

Lion Beater blinked a couple of times, then shifted his weight slightly, clearly intending to unsheath his sword.

‘Enough of this!’

With an irritated huff, Sunny commanded the Dreamscape to eject him from the arena and disappeared from the Colosseum in a shower of white sparks.

Climbing out of the simulation pod, he stared at it with resentment, then suddenly flinched and grabbed his hand with another.

“No, no… we don’t want the refrigerator accident to happen again, not to this beautiful, shiny, extremely expensive pod… right? Right! I should… I should probably go and get some fresh air… try it again next time, on a more challenging arena…”

With that, he threw the last glance at the high-tech device, and walked away.

…What Sunny did not see, though, was the crowd of Awakened back in the Colosseum, all staring at the empty space where he had stood a minute ago.

Leo Striker stared at it, too, a thoughtful expression on his face.

A few seconds later, he said quietly:

“To… unlearn? Huh.”