Soul of a Human

Lord Obsidian watched in shock, disgust, and maybe anger as his heir was backed into a corner by his younger and less talented brother. Even the other onlookers recognized something was wrong and Lord Obsidian's displeasure, so instead of cheering on the contestants, the sideline stayed eerily silent.

However, neither Orth nor his brother noticed it and instead concentrated on their battle, which now entered a chaotic phase. Orth clambered through the glassed hole on his side's wall, looking at his brother's remaining forces quickly forming a line of mages and noticing his brother's self-assured victory.

"What brain fart does that idiot have now?" Orth asked himself, and while he didn't hear what his brother said, he could see that he did.

"Look, only my misguided brother comes out. Those washouts have used all their magic in those few big spells, and now the little boy comes out to surrender."

At first, the "elite" squad smiled, then their smiles turned into frowns when the apparently surrendering boy was suddenly encased in a reddish stone. Then, the now stone giant slowly came closer and picked up speed.

Orth shrugged when he saw the self-assured smiles of the elite and invoked his granite armor, making Ambor look at his squad lead in awe. No matter how often he saw this particular spell, it always made his day. For Ambor, it was the perfect ability, and he had tried to copy it but had no success. However, he was still content because it was quite a simple fix. Ambor would simply need to follow this young prodigy and enhance his own magic. This was also the reason why he had rejected any weapons, preferring to fight with his hands and magic.

"What are those idiots laughing about?" He asked, getting in position behind the big stone armor.

"Don't know," Orth answered almost inaudibly.

"Well, no matter the time, go show them fear," Ambor stated, stretching his arms and shoulders to loosen up before the brawl.

It was still a bit strange to him that anyone would deem close combat a viable option for Soul-kin, but with Orth's physical training and maybe a bit more time, he could see the potential.

The two of them charged the line of mages, and the formerly self-assured smiles were wiped from their faces. However, they wouldn't be the elite if they would let themselves be scared into inaction. Orgen's squad quickly rallied and started attacking the charging Orth as their only target. However, when the first fireball almost reached its target, it went up in a puff of steam, neither slowing nor damaging the granite armor.

Orth had to give it to his boys with their hidden positions. He had trusted them to deal with magic attacks coming his way, and even he barely noticed the water shot from Sodalor, which perfectly dispelled the fire magic. However, they couldn't block everything, and so some attacks came through. Still, Orth's armor was broken down and rebuilt over and over again until he had built the perfect rendition and would repair any damage taken in an instant.

Also, this wasn't his only improvement, and they had just crossed enough distance for the second surprise. Orth stopped charging and held out both stony fists, targeting toward the line of mages. "Let's see how you like my rock throw." Orth thought, then fired.

The line of mages tried their best to repel the charging mage and seemingly succeeded as he stopped. Then everything went to shit, and Orgen was the first to hit the dirt, while at least one of his elite mages got hit in the face by the fast-flying stone projectile and got knocked unconscious. One after another of, the elite mages dropped down into cover, trying to escape the literal hail of rocks spraying from the arms of the stone monster. Also, more attacks of vastly different elements were coming at them from continuously changing directions.

For Orth, knocking out one was just a lucky extra, but the main reason for this attack was to provide cover for Ambor, to get the last bit of the way, which the madman did while getting hit three times in the back from Orth's rocks, and instantly healing the damage. This was not because of Orth, but because Ambor didn't care and embraced the short piercing pain. Then, with a mad cackle, he jumped into the ditch, where the "elite" hid from the ranged fire.

Orth could hear the cackling and the follow-up explosions of Ambor's technique. The former failed healer had a knack for fire magic, and whenever he threw a punch, it would also produce a small explosion. Of course, he would hurt his own hands in the process, but with his ridiculous healing powers, he undid that damage while pulling back for the next punch.

Everyone scrambled to get away from the crazy mage, and a quickly thrown-up stone wall separated them for a moment. But all that was achieved was to separate the remains of Orgen's squad from their leader and, to Orth's annoyance, the whore.

As soon as the wall was up, stone thorns were growing out of the side, providing a convenient ladder for Ambor, who took the gift of Labradorite with a smile. Quickly scrambling up the barricade, Ambor jumped down the other side in pursuit and encountered his first opposition. Standing in Ambor's way was a mage supported by his squad, and while using his own fire magic, he dispelled Ambor's explosive punches. This still would give Ambor the win sooner than later, but at the same time, the fire mage was protected by a thin water sheath, dispersing the impact.

The true problem is that the magic attacks forced Ambor to dodge because even his healing prowess wouldn't last against all of them. Well, it would be a bigger problem if he hadn't the support of his squad and the staggering amount of rock thorns. In his opinion, the squad had taken to supplying Labradorite with power, and he was providing all the support for Ambor. That was fine with him, but that his favorite spell wouldn't work annoyed him.

The fire mage seemed confident and taunted Ambor for his crude fighting, but then he was shocked, literally. Ambor had trained his explosive punches excessively, but he had known somebody might devise a counter, so he added a backup, lightning. The mage keeled over, twitching with the aftermath of the electrical charge, his water protection now working against him.

After that, Ambor ripped the rest of the struggling mages apart, channeling fire in his right fist and lightning in his left. He was starting to like this combination and the tingling feeling the mid-level air magic gave his fists. Still, he couldn't take all the credit because the tactical rock thorns, providing cover to duck behind and distraction, gave him the freedom to do as he pleased, meaning he really owed Labradorite a drink.

His next victim was the flying mage, who somehow was still in the fight. He tried to gain height to escape the close-quarters fighter, but a scarily accurate water spell forced the wind mage to drop back down into Ambor's reach. Ambor jumped up, grabbed the foot of the wind mage, then forced a jolt of electricity through the mage's body and, with a grunt of effort, smashed him into the ground, knocking him out cold.

The next mage was the earth mage erecting the quick wall. He needed to dispel the continuous sprouting rock thorns and had his hands full, not getting skewered. However, this, in turn, took much of his attention away, and he didn't see the hand grasping onto his face. A short moment and a blackened face later, the explosive grasp had removed him from combat.

For the onlookers and Lord Obsidian, it was scary to see how effective this reckless close-combat fighting style was against their tactics, as the elite couldn't even muster a somewhat coherent opposition. Still, the Lord in charge of the military hated this outcome. It made all his plans useless, and the deal with the Shungine family for cheaper armored robes would be out the window. He needed to intervene somehow, without anyone noticing.

Ambor's magic held up well, and he achieved his goal of disabling everyone except Orgen. At least, he thought he did, after being confused for a second and recounting, Ambor indeed was one opponent short, but he couldn't do anything about it now and would need to trust his commander to defeat his brother and the quote "whore” on his own. In doing so, it proved that the traditional tactics were not foolproof and were in dire need of an overhaul.