The Warrior Mechanic

Cael pondered this for a short while and knew that he didn’t really have much longer to make a choice. Even if the two fighters were still looking equally damaged, they were both hanging on by mere threads.

Any attack from either of them would likely take down the other, if it was decently powerful.

Cael decided to try and give Preston the upper hand in the race toward patriarch. He wondered how the dynamics would alter upon granting him such success.

His mana stream appeared from his body, covertly descending until it latched onto Preston’s suit.

As this happened, his eyes opened wide from the energy that he felt flowing through his exosuit. It was almost like it had entered an odd overdrive mode. Smirking mischievously, both of the barrels at his shoulders started to glow their signature green.

As he gathered this mana for the attack, Cael once again felt like the mana was being ripped from his body. Such high mana demand was something his body wouldn’t be able to naturally handle, so he had to try his best to mask the strain that he felt across his body.

Placing his hands firmly on his thighs with his arms straightened, he controlled his breathing and already started to sweat as the barrels grew brighter and brighter.

Arthur only watched on incredulously as the barrels glowed so brightly. He couldn’t believe that he had enough energy left over to use such an attack. He had been outsmarted throughout this entire battle.

The blasts slammed straight into Arthur’s body, slamming him straight into the arena wall. The blasts ripped through even the inner layers of his armour and caused his head to whip back into the wall with alarming force.

He was unconscious soon after, and the medics were forced to enter the ring in numbers to retrieve him. Nanobots entered his system as soon as they reached him, and Preston lifted his arms in rejoice as he managed to claim victory.

Cael was quick and relieved to finally have the chance to remove his mana stream. It surprised him that his energy rifles were sucking that much mana from his body. Cael’s body would only be able to sustain a handful of those blasts – the fact that they were shot out in pairs only made it worse.

Letting out a sigh of relief as the feeling of strain vanished from his body, he leaned back and sighed upon feeling the lack of pain in his muscles and body.

“Who would’ve thought he could win that?” Cael asked the man to his side, as his mouth was still open with shock.

“I don’t know myself either, Cael. I really don’t know; this was supposed to be Arthur’s time to cement himself as the rightful heir to the throne in his brother’s stead. Maybe, that isn’t the case anymore.” The flabbergasted individual realised.

It seemed that some of the members of the family were more willing to communicate with him from his successes. This made total sense to him. Let the arrogant soak in your achievements and once you are on their level, there can be no way for them to try and boost their ego from you.

Either, they remain in denial, or treat you like an equal and look for different targets.

“Maybe so.”

Following this event, Preston was given a scintillating trophy that consisted of a statue of one of the older patriarchs of the family. It was named the ‘Leofstan Award’, after Leofstan Breckenridge.

Cael was indifferent toward the history of his family after his parents died -he wanted as little to do with them as possible after they shunned him- so wasn’t really aware of this person at all.

Anything that he would’ve known as a child he had now totally forgotten.

After this event, the family were given access to an almost limitless buffet of food that constantly refilled as they finished up the items. For the fighters -that had just exhausted their mana reserves and fought several tens of minutes- were the second most ravenous eaters there.

Those with the highest capacity were the burly dads -Uncle Asher in particular- that seemed to be bottomless wells. No matter how much they shoved down their gob, they always looked ready and hungry for more.

Cael spent his time here mainly keeping to himself. Without any immediate family to converse with, he just took liberties watching what the others were up to, whilst getting tastes of some of the foods that were on offer for him to try out.

There were delectable meats from across the solar system -similar to the markets within the city- but he could tell that this was of a higher quality.

The meats, no matter what they were, had a tender, juicy texture that only made him desire more and more of it.

Soon enough, after about an hour or so, the family were more than rejuvenated. Even Uncle Asher was minutes away from falling into a food coma, surrounded by more than ten plates of food.

Following this meal was a short break for the fighters, where they could enjoy some of the other things on offer in the stadium. There were a few party-style games on offer for them to try our, amongst other games that Cael was more versed with.

“Oh, they Armour Cell V?” Cael asked himself, looking at the sleek, black arcade machine with four controllers held just under its wide display.

A historical first-person action game, it revolved around the use of ancient weapons that they used to brand as firearms. Now, they were referred to as ‘legacy firearms’ with things like energy rifles and weapons that shot out arrow projectiles as ‘modern firearms’.

It wasn’t long after humanity started conquering other galaxies for them to find out that firearms were relatively useless against most extraterrestrial metals.

Even things like Dresium were levels above the likes of steel when it came to strength-to-weight ratios and malleability.

To pass the time, he started playing on this machine and felt surprised by the fun that he felt playing this. After his system had bombarded him with quests, it had made him game less and less.

Suddenly, he was called back to action and the 8 quarterfinalists were directed to the arena grounds to arrive by each other’s side.

At the very front were Preston and Arthur, that didn’t even give each other glances. Arthur’s face was sour and bitter, while Preston just had a keen smirk on his face as he watched Leighton, who was stood against them.

“Greetings, our top 8 talents. Here, you will be up against one of our older fighters, that gained the position of Lance Corporal, specialising in fighting within energy-rifle battalions. Please welcome Warin Breckenridge!” Leighton announced, receiving an applause from the crowd.

“Alright, guys, you should all listen to what I have to say. You only do something if I let you to, and if I tell you to do something in this fight, you do it, okay?!” Preston commanded, shooting glares of arrogance and contempt to the other fighters that stood behind him.

Kegan nodded to him with a smile, but then scoffed as soon as he turned his head. The two-faced snake hadn’t changed a bit.

Cael just didn’t react to his order, and knew he wasn’t going to listen to a word he had to say – many of the other fighters stood before him probably had similar sentiments.

I mean, there were still two other semi-finalists, that managed to have decent fights against the likes of Arthur and Preston. Just because Preston had ended up taking the trophy instead of them, he immediately deemed them as weaklings compared to himself.

Warin walked onto the sandy arena, with two wrist-mounted rifles, and two shoulder-mounted ones. With the rifle on his right shoulder, it was double barrel.

“Excessive, much?” Cael thought to himself, looking at his large, clunky suit.

The fighter was extremely tall, standing at 6’6. He was quite lean, and not exactly a talent of the Breckenridge family. His parents were below average when compared to other family members their age, and he’d just managed to work somewhat hard and achieve a better position than they did.

His father was stuck at the position of private for his entire stint in the military, before he was demoted and ended up working as a police officer in a small borough of Oseron.

Warin slammed his chest, before aiming his fists straight at the crew. The barrels that were on his wrist glowed and started to hiss out steam as the match was soon to be underway.

Cael crouched down into a fighting position, revealing his extreme-heated dagger. His mana wasn’t exactly at full storage, but the large meal he had just received managed to rejuvenate him a significant amount.

“May the battle commence!!”

Arthur and Preston sped forward, along with pretty much every fighter except for Cael. It seemed like the crew didn’t really think much about attacking in a co-ordinated manner, and they were soon to get punished for their rashness.

Arthur leaped forward, outpacing Preston in that split-second, to land the first attack. He even gave a glance back to Preston with an arrogant smile as if he had gotten something over him.

Preston was almost immune to such petty gloating after receiving the trophy; he was certain that he was now the superior fighter.

However, Arthur received a barrage of powerful energy blasts that shot him back several metres. One of the pellets even managed to shoot right into the inner layers of his armour.

Preston, watching this happen, received a kick right to his chest before he had the opportunity to react. In his retreat, though, he gritted his teeth and activated his energy rifles as swiftly as he could.

Two green energy blasts were shot at Warin, who was already bent down near the ground before he’d fired.

The blasts soared right over his head, making the arena wall shake as they impacted it.

Many more of the fighters were starting to receive similar treatment, and Cael expected this to happen. A lance corporal was likely to be a fighter from a B-Grade institute or higher.

Joining the military wasn’t for everybody, and many of the fighters remained as privates, being simply too weak to climb the ranks.

Even if he was young and inexperienced in comparison to other soldiers, he had been promoted for a reason.

“Keep coming at me like mindless rats and you’ll be killed on this battlefield!” He shouted, punching Kegan so hard in his stomach that he had to dismantle his helmet because he started throwing up.