Oscar was surprised by how their questions seemed to offend people at the adventurer’s [Guild].

They all said they knew of no one like Jane who had gone to the south with a high level warrior Class, and they did not know what had happened the other day. They asked twenty different groups before giving up; with not a single one having heard of anyone who recognised her. Which was very strange, if not incredible.

Oscar could only conclude that the high level woman had some sort of history in the city, or maybe her two sisters did, who it seemed had protected her when they were alive.

Whatever sin she might have committed, or if people simply considered her unhinged, it was hard to tell. A lot of people did not exactly want to wait for an incident when someone powerful was acting erratic–it was easier to assume the slope was slippery and that the best move was shoving them away–hopefully down it for some extra distance.

It made Oscar feel a bit bad. Not for Jane so much as Sten, who it seemed cared a great deal for the rude, unstable stranger. Not that she hadn't earned what help they had given so far; she had fought for all their sakes at the valley after all. But delivering her into safety seemed like gratitude enough to Oscar at least.

Some people might have continued helping even after, simply on account of the woman’s high level, expecting to get something out of it somehow just by how powerful the one in need was. But it was pretty clear that was not what Sten was thinking, he simply knew she would not even look for anybody else to help if he left her, so he stayed.

It made all the more sense why he’d ended up at the healing house after what Oscar had seen now during the second part of their travels. Back in Salcret, when Sten had only been an occasional sparring partner, and a constant source of pain; dominant and evil… Then the fact that he was a healer had been a lot harder to reconcile.

They would be voting tonight, but Sten was probably correct on what the right thing to do was, if they could afford it. Especially as Jane had been a lot better since she got Harry to keep her company.

But first Sten brought Oscar to the Arena: which turned out to be a colossal building, probably the largest in the city by sheer square feet. It was not quite round, but oval, and the entrances were everywhere; you could just head right in, although Sten explained how that would change again in an hour when the professional instructors came on to the grounds with their recruits.

Unlike so many other buildings in the city there were no paintings here, instead there were the magic runes of an ancient ritual kind climbing up the walls; seemingly some security feature that was currently lying dormant.

Sten had not seen it activated during his two visits here to Dormata for tournaments, but he'd learned there were plenty of buildings which were marked for military use like this, mostly reserved for vital functions in the case of a siege. Not even the artist teens were fools enough to target such designations for the common good; certainly not with their reputation of being secured by high level guardians that it had had since being built.

Even now it was guarded against vandals or surging moods among the participants alike, by men in coherent white uniforms who stood dotted around the open field they found inside. Sten explained how it was apparently a police Class that had been around for ages. Considered a staple of the city, and a presitigious one with ancient roots at that; a group whose main purpose was being the disciplinary force used to keep order in the army whenever it had cause to assemble.

They practiced keeping the peace in specific areas like this where the System was more lenient about violence between Humans, that was where the levels were at during peace time after all.

Almost everywhere else the System would crack down on Human to Human violence with all sorts of penalties on whoever was the aggressor, or who took it past the violence required for self-defense or training purposes.

It made being a criminal harder, but still doable. You just needed to know something else a person might value.

And so this [Ward Guard] Class was not meant to act as a police force for the city in its entirety, in a city of millions where every adult was empowered by their Class; people largely had to police themselves, and power was king over justice.

Sten reiterated how punishment was still doled out just like how it worked in Salcret, but how it was all considered the domain of the System, and people rarely got involved unless someone was being particularly destructive.

If you wanted further justice than you could grab with your own two hands, or those of your friends, then you better live in a neighborhood where the owner was inclined and could afford to provide it, by hiring or training the right Classes.

But the city still maintained traditions such as this; the Arena–where people could still come to grow their strength for themselves by testing it in sparring, duels and races through obstacle courses alike. Often with true stakes on the line.

Allegedly it had been around since the city’s founding, but it had clearly been expanded over time since it had four separate sections of varying designs inside, all simulating different natural environments.

You had a very traditional sandpit, but all around it were wooden structures making up an advanced obstacle course, where several platforms for duels were placed in the middle. It made it so you could use the environment to your advantage; or stay in the middle for a cleaner fight.

The other three sections had rivers running through grasses, and small jungles; one had cliffs and craggy hilltops, and the last had a water arena with simulated undercurrents and whirlpools, all providing different challenges of environmental obstacles and platforms for battle to match with the character and lessons in style that needed to be taught there.

And apparently it could all be reconfigured for even greater spectacles that required a full field for the violence to come; whether it was an event featuring small armies of up to level 20 Classes fighting in pitched battles and different scenarios; or even duels between true high level experts that wished to display their Skills to the masses, even settling feuds between families to first fatal blood at times. With healers on standby.

There were all kinds of events that might lead to such matches or even tournaments, and it was not seldom that a whole festival culminated in such finales.

But from nine to twelve it was amateur hour, and the time period where people brought their children to train–weekends excluded. Those were for betting, and even that limitation on the activity was a newer addition, meant to give the top families another means of cultivating favour and reputation among the masses that engaged in betting, whenever they made up an excuse to add additional days of spectacle spicy with alluring odds and often with special events to match; but still making what used to be a traditional, long-since-given right, now manipulated into something considered extra to be doled out at the behest of a private need to impress from the people in control.

And that was just gossip they heard on the way in. Oscar and Sten got up and grabbed one of the elevated octagons for themselves which had simulated trees in the form of wooden pillars with artificial branches sticking out all around the platform.

And then, as always, Oscar attacked full force: And Sten could already feel the difference.

Gaining a Class and those first levels was about more than just access to Skills and being granted Passives, it was akin to a second surging puberty, that hit over the course of a few weeks; granting you heightened strength, speed, aggression and durability, even reflexes and the processing things like distance and space in realtime without letting it distract you.

The abstracts only to a lesser degree; but there were treasures to help you improve on these deeper mental aspects even more.

But the sheer physiological difference was even more stark for the ladies and it helped do a great deal to close the gap with their physical counterparts, especially if they were at the peak of physical fitness even before being empowered by their Class boost.

And the growth never stopped either, not as long as you kept leveling. Even if the advantages of more mass and the leverage of height still remained, kilo for kilo it was like being back in later elementary where plenty of gals had the advantage of size from childhood still, with only a couple of exceptions among the truly destined-for-buff lads entering puberty at ten.

Sten felt every bit of change that Oscar had undergone, all in that first exchange; but he also felt the lack of experience with controlling that increased force in every movement. The balance still needed to be adjusted, almost retaught, but for that he would need to slow down and settle his physique long enough to get used to it.

So Sten met the advancing Oscar with a knee to the liver, having sidestepped his lancing thrust and nudged his sword arm into the edge of the well-balanced shield, that was still more liability than protection at this point, certainly for the parts that remained uncovered when Oscar left his footwork behind.

But Oscar handled the pain well, partially due to his [Thick Skin] Skill, but also because his feet were positioned correctly to lean, if not to dodge.

But that’s why Sten had chosen the knee, and the liver–Blunt force trauma would penetrate such shallow protection, and the liver needed only a nudge to penetrate the adrenaline fog with intense pain.

But he still didn’t go down. Perhaps I didn’t get as good a hit as I thought.

They’d gotten used to sparring in the evenings on their travels, and Sten had figured he knew Oscar’s strengths by now. He was decent at anticipating your moves, not on the level of Kalle, who made actual reads every match, but decent. And he was not as sturdy and quick to recover from setbacks as his brother Roldy.

But he certainly did have something.

Sten had heard it described as being like a dog with a bone. If you gave him an opening and he was in position to take advantage; where you would expect him to hit you nine times in quick succession he would go for twelve, even if you interrupted and swung back; you would find he had been tiring less than the sequence implied, and the thirteenth strike would strike like the viper–the opening you’d been provided a false mirage he painted with sheer acting pulled off in midcombat.

Sten enjoyed employing such tactics himself, but that was against family; who had trained their whole lives, often longer than him, and who analysed and noted every feint you threw their way, looking for patterns. Where every trick was known and only new combinations or predicting reactions might prevail consistently, and often by leaning into the subconscious and punishing ineffective reflexes.

And of course he could still see through most of Oscar's tricks too–for now–but that the young [Squire] was already thinking along such lines showed a great deal of promise… After all, what was combat if not deception? A set of questions being asked, and the combatants providing each other with answers; how well have you prepared? What styles have you mastered? What did you expect me to come at you with?

Every moment they were locked in combat told the story of those answers. It was why you often gained a begrudging respect for the opponent who had given you the toughest fight; even though you had not agreed in the end, you had to appreciate a good argument.

Oscar was telling one hell of a story right now. He had been thinking of exactly this, how to employ his new Skills, for all those weeks they traveled and he practiced, while it might have looked to the inexperienced eye like he was practicing in a vacuum.

That was far from the case.

Oscar went in where he had always retreated before, went low, then high, and followed with a pivot to grab on.

They tumbled for a bit, with Sten having the advantage, but also having allowed Oscar to get close enough to trap him with his shield–and then he worked in his second new Skill, [Recall Blade]–which thankfully worked on the training weapon–he caught the hilt and struck Sten in the back of the head, while Sten's hands had been busy shoving Oscar back off to the side.

Sten got free, but he was reeling, and somehow still made it up with the speed of someone who'd had to return to his feet hurt too many times for Oscar to compete–and then he retaliated with yet another knee, earning one more gasp and wheeze from the [Squire].

But Sten was not too far ahead in terms of levels. He was still missing his first capstone, and he was not the right size to be at a full advantage when fighting in the range where Oscar could lean on him and force him down to the ground, certainly not so early on in the fight before Oscar was properly tenderized. He was not that much heavier after all, his advantage was how he could go on for days if needs must.

Instead Sten made some distance and jumped back, but rather than keep striking for the temples or damaging the front leg as was his ususal wont; he jumped up in a flip and landed with his hooked feet on the surrounding branches.

He was upside down, and Oscar considered very strongly if he was being mocked; but they’d talked about this… Often when an enemy was feeling pressured they did something surprising, and oftentimes it was because they relied on that very moment of surprise to land their next move.

The first thing you should do in such circumstances–if you had no better info to act on–was move… Preferably right at them if there was no risk of traps; close the window.

Then, if they still hadn’t pulled off the move they meant to before you got in range; attack and do not hesitate.

Oscar followed this lesson now, even flaring his [Braveheart’s Charge] for just a second to make sure he was closing the gap full throttle; but the upside down Sten flipped and landed with perfect timing with both heels in Oscar’s face. He’d been in the position of hanging like a bat from the wooden beam, and the revolution when he released had somehow enabled him to flip midair and stomp down with his full weight.

That was round one.

He got a 2 minute break. Yes, Oscar was bleeding. But they could take care of that when Harold got back tonight.

They only had an hour; and they used it well.