“Are you ready Boy’o? I have big hopes for you now. Big hopes,”

Akuma regarded Gronk with a neutral look. In it, reflected none of the excitement that thoroughly poured out from Gronk.

With a smile that made his scarred face morph into something fierce, Gronk continued talking while thumping Akuma on the back.

“Don’t be nervous. Relax. Just relax. The goal of the Trails is to test your ability to handle a true opponent that can fight back. You challenge the Trails as many times as you want, choosing to stop when you are satisfied with your performance and the ensuing reward for said performance. Still, there are only three Trial Arenas, so you’ll be waiting for your chance if you want to go again. Luckily, it provides us,” he brought his arm around to nearly crush Akuma in a squeeze, “the opportunity to indulge in some well deserved entertainment! Come! Come! Let us watch.”

As Gronk spoke in a near delirious enjoyment, both he and Akuma turned to regard the fight taking place in front of them. As the 11th player in line, the pair were placed in the middle of a line waiting for one of the Trial Arenas. Before them, as players and their instructors stood waiting impatiently, began the start of a new Trial. Lithe and petite at 5ft, a wispy figure of a female warrior pounced forward toward her opponent. Equipped with the same equipment as everyone else, her single sword scrapped low against the dirt as she darted forward with shoulders hunched.

Her opponent, a wooden mannequin donned in the same armour as the players, readied its short sword between both hands. As the distance closed to five feet between the two, the mannequin made its move. A sharp, if not simple, dart forward followed by a perfectly executed thrust of its sword aimed to impact the shoulder of the female warrior. As if she foresaw it coming though, the woman dropped even lower, letting the thrust skate over her shoulder padding and past her head. In response, the mannequin made to retrieve its sword to defend itself, but the action was too little, too late. Overextended from the thrust and without an option to defend itself, the woman landed five lightning fast attacks on the mannequins body. The strikes were crude and underpowered, but they served to do the job. Damaged and caught flat footed, by the time the mannequin warrior got its sword back in a defensive position, the woman held too much of an advantage. Five quick and well placed strikes later, and the fight was over.

As soon as the mannequin’s health was fully depleted, the dummy dropped to the ground and kneeled in defeat. In turn, the woman who actually appeared to be a girl around fourteen with raven hair that drifted all the way down to her waist, began pumping her fists excitedly in the air and jumping around. It wasn’t until moments passed and a number of calls of congratulations rang from the line of spectators that the girl abruptly stopped her actions before blushing a rosy pink and darting off with her instructor in tow.

With the girl gone and no longer continuing the Trial, a new challenger stepped forward to the newly restored mannequin warrior that looked as fresh as can be.

“Watch this boys and girls. Let me show you how a real man fights. Don’t miss a thing, caus’ ya’ll will regret seeing a true warrior in action.”

Sauntering forward, a brutish man at 6 ft and in the prime of his dad-bod physique, lazily swung his sword in the air as he stepped into the Trial Arena. In the face of his confidence, jeers and shouts and mockery were flung at the man who weathered it all with a cheshire smile and a bob of his head to some music only known to him.

“Oh’right now. Let’s get this show on the ro-”

The sentence he tried to speak was never to be. For while the man was sauntering into the Trial Arena and kept his attention on the crowd watching, the mannequin attacked. Once someone stepped into the Arena, the fight had begun. Most mannequins, especially at the Beginner Trial level, were more defensive than offensive and would wait for the player to strike. Still, there were exceptions to every rule.

With swift steps that showed a player’s level of movement and control, the mannequin warrior easily strood forward with steps not too fast nor too slow. It was fortunate for the crowd watching, as it ensued that just as the brutish man turned to focus on the mannequin, the attack was already delivered to his unprepared self.

A swift and damn near perfect low-high kick swept through the air, before impacting the brutish man’s balls. Among the crowd watching and the players standing in line, groans and hands involuntarily clutching their own ‘packages’ could be seen among all the male players, while even females winced. All was quiet then as people felt near physical pain at watching the act. In the quiet, the sound of a wheezing breath emitted from the brutish man, before he toppled over and fell.

While only 1 / 10th of the man’s health had fallen, the sheer shock and pain of the attack had crippled the player. It did little to cripple those watching on the side though. A surging tide of laughter that sent tears spilling from players eyes rang loud in the 3rd Trial Arena as people tried to gather some air into their lungs that ached sore from laughing.

“Oh my god....Oh...my...god. I can’t breathe. Hahahahah! Holy fuck, hahahah!”

“Pretty sure he isn’t a man now.”

“A’mia righttaa?”

The sounds of fists bumping together emitted just in front of Akuma as the spectating players all watched through teary eyes as the brutish man’s instructor literally picked the man up with one hand before carrying him toward a middle-aged man in white and silver robes that marked him as a Priest.

Following that, it took nearly a minute for the following player to finally pull himself together enough to commence his own trial. Unlike the previous two performances though, there was nothing noteworthy about his Trial. Blows were exchanged clumsily and with an unfamiliarity that showed the player just learned how to wield a sword. Even with the System Assisted ‘Automatic Mode’, fighting in Ascension Online was easier said than done. Nearly two minutes of sluggish and ill-managed fighting followed before the mannequin disarmed the player and sent his health to 1%, thus winning the fight.

After the man that lost, came 7 more players who fought in the same cookie cutter and unfamiliar manner of swordsmanship. Still, their progress in only a short amount of time was impressive and three of the seven passed, with one doing it on her first try at the Trial. Only winning by a hair, all three players stepped down after winning their Beginner Trial and accepted their reward of some potions and a piece of Crude Equipment.

It wasn’t until the 8th opponent, the one directly before Akuma, that a true challenger of worth appeared. Lean in figure, a man in his low-20s walked into the Trial Arena with a distinct ease in his step. Everything about him seemed average, almost unnoticeable among the crowd of players that flaunted their individuality in any way they could to stand out. The only notable feature of the man, was his ice-blue goatee and matching hair that was tied in a ponytail and flowed to his shoulder blades. Still, as the man strutted forward, Akuma’s eyes narrowed as he paid attention to the fight to come.

Once in the Trial Arena, the fight started fast. Like the brutish man from before, the mannequin warrior aimed to strike first. Yet just as the mannequin closed half the distance, the blue-haired warrior struck. Shocked faces from the crowd watched as the man’s sole weapon, his [ Crude Sword ], streaked with startling speed through the air before striking the mannequin in the chest. Stumbling backward from the unexpected attack, the mannequin slapped the imbedded sword out of his chest before directing its attention to its opponent.

It never saw the blue-haired man.

With beguiled steps, the man appeared like a ghost behind the mannequin’s back. A series of rapid elbow strikes to its head and neck, followed by the twist of the mannequin’s head, ended the fight.

As the man picked up his sword and walked back to the entrance of the Trial Arena, there was a noticeable swagger in his steps. Much like the brutish man from before, many players were throwing various insults and mocking words at him. In line, and directly facing the swaggering man, Akuma watched with a mild pleasure at the display. While others couldn’t see, Akuma saw the true skill of the blue-haired man. The perfect throw that was hidden by his body until the last moment, the fast and nimble steps, the crippling blows to the mannequin’s body. All of it was executed well and smoothly. If there was any critique he could identify, it was in the hectic movements and exaggerated actions he took. Akuma realized though that is was because the man's mind was moving too fast for his in game body to keep up. Almost as if he was reduced to 50% of his true ability.

Watching the man as he went to address his personal instructor, Akuma focused above the blue-haired man’s head.

[ Ruth de Truth ]

[ Level 2 Warrior ]

The name itself was interesting, and Akuma found his normal placid mind halt as he tried to comprehend its meaning. Was it french? A nickname? A play on words? Stupidity?

As the thoughts crossed his mind, Ruth turned around to look upon the crowd that had gathered. Ruth’s crystal blue eyes, like his hair, crossed Akuma’s own golden ones as the two regarded each other. Akuma in neutral and minor appreciation, while Ruth in a roguish calculation.

Then the connection was cut as Ruth continued to trace his gaze around the gathered crowd. Soaking in their attention and smiling his crooked white teeth before he once more stepped forward back into the Trial Arena.

Having completed the Beginner Trial with ease, Ruth now attempted the Intermediate one. As he stepped forward, the smirk on his face lessened as a testament to his concentration. Eyes narrowed into slits, he focused on the foe before him. The same mannequin as before, now decked in chain-mail and plated armour that covered the most vital body parts. In its hands, rested a long sword of immense length and weight that measured four feet long.

This was a true warrior. This was a true opponent.

Unlike the previous mannequin, as Ruth stepped into the Trial Arena, this mannequin began walking forward at a medium pace while keeping its stance and sword pointed toward Ruth. In turn, Ruth began walking near the mannequin but in a circular motion that caused the mannequin to shift to keep Ruth in its sight.

Together they circled each other, predator watching predator, as they sized one another up. The air between them hung heavy as the spectators held their breath, not daring to miss the start of the exchange. Sadly, one spectator in line behind Akuma spoke words of annoyance loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Are you going to fight or fuck? Get on with it!”

Ruth’s exaggerated eye roll followed by flipping the player the middle-finger showed his appreciation for the comment. Still, Ruth loved to please the crowd. As the finger fell, so too did his shoulder as he abandoned any type of defense for a rapid assault.

Feet carried him in a zigzagging motion while he began ‘juking’ the mannequin in front of him. As Ruth moved to 15 feet, he pumped his arm forward to throw his sword once more. Unlike the last mannequin though, this one immediately skated to the side and raised its sword in defense. But the sword was never thrown.

With a fake throw, Ruth continued running. At 10 feet, he once more motioned to throw his sword, but the mannequin ignored it. This time however, the sword came streaking like a meteor toward the mannequin warrior. With a rough parry, Ruth’s sword sparked against the mannequins before digging into its shoulder. Then, before the shocked faces of all, Ruth showed his true skill.

Pulling on the thin leather strip that was attached to the sword handle, Ruth whipped the sword back into his hand as he closed to 5 feet. As the mannequin moved to strike, a kick of dirt appeared like a curtain before the mannequin as it was blinded by Ruth’s move. With quick steps, it immediately backed up, but already Ruth struck. The sword whirled through the air as Ruth swung it around by the leather string. It dug into the mannequin’s calf and crippled its movement. Then Ruth closed the distance, loot drops from the Corrupted Animals he just killed were flung at the mannequin's face as a distraction. Unlike a normal foe though, it weathered the distractions and cleaved the bastard sword to split Ruth. With a dive, he appeared directly at its legs, where quick hands darted to punch ruthlessly at the mannequins nonexistence balls. Rapidly, its health dropped by 50%, before the mannequin stomped on Ruth and lashed out with brutal and efficient strikes of its own.

Gone with any sort of strategy or swordsmanship, Ruth and the mannequin squabbled in the dirt as both tried to bring weapons and gauntlets to bare. Tricky and lithe though, Ruth quickly stabbed his fingers at its eyes and wet-willied its ears before viciously ramming his sword into its head.

With only 10% health remaining, Ruth struggled to his feet, before noticing the crowd around him watching in looks of pure disbelief. Instantly, he seemed to jump up and press down his wrinkled and dirtied clothes.

“Ah friends. Truly you are kind to watch my performance. A great spectacle it was, if not hard fought and won. But alas, my time here is done. The call of my loins needs to be answered. So...toodalu.”

Flowery words spoken with a slick familiarity sprung from Ruth’s lips as he darted off to the Instructor. A short discussion followed before the Instructor smiled a mega-watt grin and handled Ruth a [ Crude Equipment ] and a gold medallion that released an aura of golden light around it.

Immediately, the surrounding players became riled up at seeing someone receive a Skill Point for just completing the Intermediate difficulty. Akuma was not one of them however. With slow, struggling steps, he walked the short distance from his spot into the arena with Gronk in tow.

“Ready Boy’o? Now, just go out there and show these people the true warrior that I’ve raised. Just bash its wooden head in real good, and you’ll be set. Got it? Good?”

Nodding at Gronk’s fast-paced and slurred words, Akuma felt his legs struggle to carry him at anything faster than that of a snail’s speed. Still, the distance was small and he had time to spare. Yet by the time he walked into the Trial Arena and locked his gaze on the readied mannequin, so too did the spectators.

“Oi! Woudja look at this poser? Must think he’s some kinda ‘Akuma’ like in the CSA.”

“Wadda fool.”

“I bet 25 Copper he dies in the first 10 seconds.”

“The first 20 seconds!”

“The first 5 seconds!”

Ignoring it all, Akuma advanced. All the while with a grin that would make the devil himself piss his pants. He would show them a true warrior. He would show them the terror of the one known as Akuma in the Combat Sports Association.