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50.86% Critical Hit: The World’s Clumsiest Sword Saint / Chapter 59: Chapter 59 - Underneath the Arena

Chapter 59: Chapter 59 - Underneath the Arena

<p>When I awoke, I was laid wrapped up in a bed, the majority of my body covered in bandages. There was even one around my head, covering my right eye. Wincing as I try to sit up, I instead let my head flop back down, my vision spinning around and around. "Yeah, nope."<br/><br/> I stare at the ceiling as I recount the fight. The details became extremely fuzzy as I thought about what happened when the arena changed, until I couldn't remember much of anything. "The arrows came at me… And then… And then what?"<br/><br/> "And then you lost," Eniyala says in true gloating fashion — for Eniyala, at least.<br/><br/> I turn my head to see four chairs of people — and three of them are taken up by a huge, snoozing baby with his curly hair falling over his face. Even laying in a fetal position, his extra-large frame barely fits onto the seats, and it's a wonder he's even managed to fall asleep.<br/><br/> On the other hand, the small girl in her baggy clothes barely takes up the seat of the chair, and only does so due to her pants spreading out wide enough to reach the edges. I see wraps covering her hands, which she subtly slides back as she notices my gaze. When I look at her face, she raises her nose a hair in victory, but the complete lack of energy she holds is clear. Deep, dark eye bags sit heavily on her bottom lids, and her wavy hair has turned mostly frizzy. <br/><br/> The last time she had looked like that was after a certain ravishly-handsome boy who had just turned 18 was BARELY injured by a group of Boars.<br/><br/> "How long was I out?" I ask slowly, holding a thick hand up to my splitting skull. 'Couldn't be that long. Mana Rejection is just setting in—'<br/><br/> "Two days," Eniyala replies. "They were waiting for me to recover, and I've been here. But, I guess my match can happen tomorrow then."<br/><br/> "The fuck?" I groan, closing my eyes. "Shit. I'm sorry."<br/><br/> "Why are you sorry? It's not like I was sitting here for you. My bed is right there." She points to my other side; sure enough, the bed is there. But the sheets are cleanly made, and looked to have been laid in for a maximum of thirty minutes. I decide to play along, shaking my head. "C'mon, let a man dream."<br/><br/> She scoffs, a small giggle slipping out for a moment. "So, you used the lightning again."<br/><br/> I groan. "Don't remind me. I guess the Mana Rejection waited until I woke up."<br/><br/> She winces a bit, patting the bed. "Well, I'll go get you some medicine again," she says, standing. I grab her hand, pulling her back down. "No, no, it's okay. Go lay down and get some rest before your match, stupid."<br/><br/> She begins to argue, but I channel enough lightning into my palm to shock her lightly. My veins feel like they're on fire from the move, but I force a smile. "I'm FINE. Relax."<br/><br/> Reluctantly, she finally stops resisting, and goes to lie down, her drowsiness getting the best of her. Lynsel hasn't woken, still sleeping soundly.<br/><br/> I spot my phone laying on the table next to my bed, and lean over a bit to grab it. I turn it on, a shock splitting through my head due to the use of Mana, before I begin looking at the new Line messages I had.<br/><br/> The first things I saw were messages from Gaslion and Espin.<br/><br/>{Espin: Been watching your matches, but the most recent one looked brutal! R U okay?}<br/>{Espin: Hellooo?}<br/>{Espin: You didn't die, did you? :( }<br/><br/> I chuckle to myself a bit as I read the receptionist's messages. "I'm not sure if I should be glad or hate that they text the same as they do on Earth," I mutter quietly, moving onto Gaslion's message.<br/><br/>{Gaslion: If there's one scratch on my beautiful girl when you get back, you're dead.}<br/><br/> "…How sweet," I mutter in a quiet, sarcastic tone.<br/><br/> Moving on, I check the MainLines (internet) to see several trending articles detailing a "finals-worthy match."<br/><br/> "Oh boy."<br/><br/> Up until we had finished the Top 8 matches, posting any information onLine about the tournament itself was forbidden. After that, whole slews of articles poured from bloggers, reporters and the like. <br/><br/> But now, one match in particular was taking over the MainLine by storm.<br/><br/> Not only did they have two rare arenas, the fight was "epic," "spectacular," and other such adjectives that the writers liked to use.<br/><br/> "I didn't think our fight was that intense," I wondered to myself as I skimmed one of the articles. <br/><br/>{… Eniyala Ignios showed incredible magical prowess with a quad cast, proving the might of the small, yet powerful Ignios family. Meanwhile, Liwuukay the unknown proved he wasn't just a dirty crotch-kicking imbecile by…}<br/><br/> "The Ignios's are powerful? That makes Gaslion even scarier… has he been spying on us the whole time and I didn't know?"<br/><br/> "You talk too loud," Eniyala grumbles. "And no. We're a small family, so he doesn't have the money for that. He had to borrow from me, he was so broke. We just have a reputation for our rare family class, Spellsmiths."<br/><br/> I shut my mouth and nod. I'd usually have a smart comeback, but I wanted to let Ms. Finalist get actual rest before her match. It was only fair.<br/><br/> I read a few more articles, all saying the same things — how Eniyala was a genius, how I truly proved myself after the stunt from my previous match, and how her final attack was truly spectacular. There were also some mentions about how a 'demon' or 'monster' appeared, but those were inconsistent among the stories, so I didn't pay them much mind.<br/><br/> "They're sure singing their praises for Eniyala," I note, taking mind to whisper, as I couldn't really help talking to myself. <br/><br/> I set my phone down, my head forming a quick headache. I would rest for now, and hopefully feel well enough to attend the final match in person.<br/><br/> It took a little over an hour, but I finally fell into a restless sleep.<br/><br/> The same recurring nightmare happened once again that night, worsening my restlessness, and now it seemed Christy was completely black, a small void of a shadow that seemed to pull me in like a black hole.<br/><br/><br/> I woke up panting, a few rays of sunlight stabbing at my uncovered eyeball. Looking to my right, two of the three chairs are gone, and so is Lynsel. On my left, Eniyala's bed is empty. "Oh, so they left me hanging. Nice one, guys."<br/><br/> Sliding out of bed in a slow and sluggish manner, slipping on my clothes that were sitting on the end of the bed. I look in the mirror, checking myself out. "At least these bandages match my hair," I joke, checking my phone for the time. I was feeling much better, so I was able to input Mana easily. <br/><br/> "…Shit! The match starts in three minutes!" I yelp as I make my way to the door. Everything aches and burns, so I'm forced to walk out of the door, coming face to face with a healer. <br/><br/> "Ah… Wait, sir! Your injuries were mostly recovered, and there's the healing herb mix on the bandages to help the process, but you need rest…!"<br/><br/> I wave them off, reassuring them I'll return after the match. They don't want to let me leave, but let me go begrudgingly.<br/><br/> It seems I had been taken to one of the rooms underneath the Main Arena, which was actually pretty extensive. I couldn't see it all as I hobbled past, but I noticed a small cafeteria, resembling the old school lunch areas with a line to pick up trays and food, and two of each round and rectangular tables placed in a diamond shape inside the miniature room. There was also what looked like a training area, and two more doors for rooms like the one I had just been in, recovery rooms.<br/><br/> At last, I reached the end of the blank tan hallway, tapping to open the double doors. They remained closed for half a minute, then, after I heard a thud sound, they slid open to reveal a circular room inside, with a ceiling I couldn't see. Stepping inside hesitantly, I pushed the up arrow button on the podium and the floor shook once before rising. 'An elevator.'<br/><br/> I rise for a long few minutes before I come to a sudden halt and the curved double doors slide open once again. I walk unsteadily out, surveying the area. It's one of the four box rooms, one of which being the announcer's box, which I can see in front of me with a tiny head of orange just barely sticking out. I limp over to the window, looking down at the chattering fans that fills the stand with all sorts of noise: Beastpeople occasionally making their animal's noises, humans screeching in laughter, elves (which I've just noticed how much taller they are compared to humans) setting off an occasional sigil, which turned into a magical firework and flew up into the sky with a burst of color. There were others, but the stadium was so large I could barely take it all in.<br/><br/> "You're here," a voice behind me states, and I jump before turning to see a man lounging on the couch. Compared to my current state, he's completely fine.<br/><br/> "Tilpott. I saw your match."<br/><br/> "As I saw yours," he replies pleasantly. He leans forward from his sitting position, resting his elbows on his knees as he summons his hammer casually.<br/><br/> "Now, explain to me why I shouldn't exorcise you right here."</p>


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