The World's First Monk (OCs, Isekai, LitRPG, Fantasy)

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 27: How to Form a Raid and Power Level Your Classmates



Galdurian Arc Warden Academy Dueling Grounds - Primus

​

Tisara Morvain looked up from her desk, as the small magic communication mirror her family had given her to stay in touch started chiming. They weren't the largest noble family, and had barely been able to send her to the academy. The mirror had been a significant investment, which was why she hadn't broken it.

Both she and her room had what certain Monks might call a 'goth vibe', and the finely crafted bronze mirror clashed with it. Hard. But keeping it with her books at least kept it out of sight, and made it look like she studied far more than she did. She glanced at the clock, confirmed her roommates would still be in class for a while, and answered.

"Hi, mother. How is everyone?"

"Excited! We heard you're in the Ternion Tournament! They just posted the brackets on some new magitech screen in the shopping district, on that big restaurant, the one that sells the Pizza. Who's this Drake Long that's fighting your entire year?"

"Oh…y'know, just the Hero that apparently led that Wallow Dungeon Raid. Nobody important." She shook her head at her mother.




"Well how am I supposed to know!? It's not like he's been immortalized in song!" Tisara just crossed her arms and stared at her mother. The older woman pinched her brow. "He's been immortalized in song, hasn't he."

Tisara nodded, and smirked. "He's the one behind the Pizza revolution too. Seems like you guys missed the Everfeast."

Her mother nodded. "Your Father and I were working, and so were your siblings. Money has been…tight, after negotiating your tuition with the main branch of the family. But we'll survive. The prize money from the Ternion Tournament is a lot right? Any chance you'll win?"

Tisara chuckled. "None, whatsoever. I'm just hoping to gain a level or two without risking my life. Drake Long will probably knock me out immediately."

Her mother's eyes turned sly. "He's a Hero right? Handsome? Is there any way you could get him to…?"

Tisara sighed. "No…Princess Valcrest snared him before anyone else had the chance. Apparently it's a whole…epic…monogamous…romance."




"That's okay dear, I'm sure you'll find someone worthy. Do you remember what I told you when you left?"

Tisara gave her a humorless smile. "I try to forget, every single day."

Her mother continued, despite her daughter's sass, "I don't care who you marry, so long as they're rich."

Tisara sighed. "Y'know, sometimes I wish you were like those Bigoted noble parents…"

Her mother chuckled. "No…you don't. Your grandmother would've beaten you by now." Tisara gave her a look, and her mother chuckled. "Don't worry, I was a good girl. As far as she knew. But your Uncles…" She whistled. "They earned it, several times with their antics."

"I'll have to ask them about it when I see them. My match is first Mother, I need to get going."

"Good luck dear! We love you!" She heard a rumble from her father's deeper voice in the background, and assumed he'd said the same thing. She repeated the words, and then departed for the field.




Within ten minutes, she was facing down the handsome Monk Hero, who arrived at the last minute, and seemed tired. But he still smirked at her, as a message popped up in her peripheral vision. She opened the message, eyes widening as she saw who'd sent it. It said the following.

Hello there. I'm too high level to have a fair fight with you, so if you're up for it, I'd like to invite you to my party, so you can take advantage of both Experience Buffs, and level up even further. Just shout 'I accept', and I'll invite you. If you decline, I'll just Duel you normally.

Thank you for reading,

Drake Long​

She looked up, missing whatever the ref said, but Drake's voice carried louder, and his Charisma was probably higher. "These matches where I'm massively higher level than my peers…will act as a chance for each of you to prove you can make it, in my Raiding Party. This is your recruitment interview! So show me your best!"

The referee looked confused, but Tisara was smirking darkly. "Go easy on her, Black." Drake said, as he manifested a clone, and the black cloaked Drake nodded, before stepping towards the Dark Knight. Tisara took her stance, activated her damage reduction tanking aura, and charged forward. Only to slide to a stop as the ref blew their whistle.

"Drake Long! You were just told of the restriction on your Magic Item. Recall the clone, or be disqualified!" The boos drowned the poor ref out, but Drake held up his hands.

"People, people! Please! Our referee is just doing their job. But, sir, you told me that only one of me should be fighting. And you never said I couldn't use the item, just that it was restricted."




The referee paused, as the crowd murmured angrily, but eventually he nodded. "My apologies. You are following the rules as written. Please continue."

With that, black cloak began essentially boxing with a greatsword, as Tisara did her best to keep up with the fast physical striker. Drake could see she was tiring quickly though. Mentally, Drake instructed black cloak to be less competent, attack slower, take more hits, etcetera.

Almost immediately, he saw her experience gain dramatically increase. The crowd watched in disbelief, as even at thirty five, leveling this fast was unheard of. As Tisara managed to strike down black cloak, purple was there next, to take his place. The Dark Knight didn't even pause, she just kept swinging, and Drake watched her in turn, her skills, when she used them, what they did, etcetera. This would determine who he invited, but so far, it seemed Tisara understood her rotation and could competently manage her cooldowns.




Tisara didn't notice at first, but as she gained experience, her focus tunneled, and the bodily high from dinging, and then continuing to gain experience at a ridiculous rate, was seriously hyping her up. She took less time to finish purple as she used her damaging class skills to wreathe her blade in magic, and as she did, she dinged again, the 'kill' giving her a quarter of what actually beating Drake would. This brought her to thirty seven and a half. The crowd cheered, while many of the older spectators, teachers and alumni alike, murmured quietly to each other.

Over the next five minutes, she took out two more clones, and managed to hit forty. At that point, the ref announced the one minute warning, and Drake stepped onto the field. "You've gained quite a lot of experience. Ready for the real thing?" He called to Tisara.

"Bring it!" She answered, charging forward.

The Monk became a blur, and Tisara's eyes bulged as Drake hammered the center of her bodily energy, right in the stomach, not with a fist, but only two fingers. It felt like his fist, though. The next thing she knew, she couldn't breathe for a few seconds, and was on the ground, disarmed and disoriented.




She sat up slowly just in time to process the referee's words. "…goes to Drake Long!"

As she looked up, the handsome Monk was already there, offering her a hand up. His punch had knocked both the air and adrenaline from her, leaving her drained, so she took the hand and managed to stand, even though her armor felt even heavier than usual.

"Are you alright?" He asked

Tisara nodded sheepishly. "I thought I'd be able to take more than one hit from you, though…"

Drake chuckled. "I hit pretty hard. That's kind of what Monks do. You should visit the Tower, and pick an advanced Class."

Tisara nodded. At forty, there were now skills she was missing out on by not choosing. "I'll do that. Your Class's knight, Sethis, he chose Blood, didn't he?"

Drake nodded. From what he understood, not unlike Death Knights in World of Warcraft, Dark Knights could choose a type of magic to specialize in that affected every single one of their other skills. He wasn't privy to the whole list, as some classes were more private or obscure than others, but Blood, Frost, and Shadow magic were options he was aware of. "He's saving up for a change. His new skills are situational, and he doesn't care for them. Said he wants to go with Frost or Shadow."

"Well. If we're partying up, have him go Frost. I'm choosing Shadow." Tisara stated plainly, as she sheathed her weapon, and started walking off.

"I'll let him know." Drake answered, walking back to his part of the field.




What followed next was essentially the same series of events. He'd face one of his First Year peers, message them, they'd eagerly accept his invite, and take full advantage of the double experience buffs. Oddly enough, the Headmaster, who was among the teachers watching from their magically constructed seats floating above the field, seemed oddly pleased, which was fine by Drake. The old elf was abrasive, but he'd put up with a lot of new, rapid changes forced upon him by his Gods. Drake also suspected this lopsided bracket full of First Years was meant to level them up the whole time.

Despite their best efforts, only the tanks who'd raided the Wallow managed to survive more than a single punch from the Monk, and to their frustration, he hadn't needed many more than that to bring their health down. Ki Block was turning out to be quite a damaging skill, and with the limit on how many times he could jab his opponent's Ki points removed, and how fast his Monk fists were, he could deliver rather effective bursts of damage.

He also found he could apply Ki Block to other skills. It made Dragon Palm's stun effect last longer, and his Flurry of Blows follow up attack now did quite a lot of damage. He hadn't needed his other skills so far, as they wouldn't do much against opponents in heavy armor, and most tank classes had skills that could divert, nullify, or even absorb elemental attacks. It seemed his skills that used Ki were harder for them to block, which was useful to know. Any monsters with similar tank builds would have the same problem. Probably.




In the end, he'd chosen his ten picks for their forty man Raid Party, and according to Vincent, each of his pick's fellow party members had already expressed an interest in joining. Joining Sethis, Bjorn, the Valentis twins, Thalondor, and Orlok, was a sturdy Battle Master Half Elf named Rion Denor, whose mastery of efficient tactics and skill usage had impressed Drake more than the others. He'd also managed to KO his way through the entire rainbow of Drakes, just in time for the one minute warning. Borge, the Boarkin Guardian Fighter of Wu Kong's Class Eight also managed to impress him, though he relied a bit too much on his artifact weapon, it was easy to see why. It was incredibly versatile.

As Drake continued to One Punch Monk his way through the tanks of his year, the last two worried him. Robert Eisenmensch was exactly what Drake had expected, as he took the field. Handsome, High Human, and obscenely wealthy. The Holy Knight had to have an Alternate Job as some sort of Artificer offshoot, for as he accepted Drake's invite, the clever nepo baby announced to all watching, "I created this armor myself! It's not quite Artifact Tier yet…but it is powerful! More than enough for a Raid."

Robert hit a metallic sphere on his chest, and Drake smirked as it started glowing bright blue with energy his eyes told him was just electricity. Red and gold heavy armor spread out to cover his body, shielding him in what was, to Drake's eyes, a passable recreation of the Iron Man suit in the style of Arcadia's knight armor. After punching so many tanks, Drake was starting to realize they all shared a similar style, one he'd noted that the Triarchy's military also wore, albeit in different colors.

The armor lit up with magic as it powered on, and as the helmet encased his face, two light blue eyes burned to life on the golden faceplate. He took a fighting stance, opened his palms, and began charging them with what Drake saw was an elegant blend of magitech, and magic circles designed to, if he understood what he was seeing, enhance Robert's skills.

Drake barely noticed the ref shout to start the match, and it was only once Eisenmensch fired off an all too familiar energy pulse from his palms that Drake grinned, and dodged with a swirling step. He knew just from proximity that there was too much heat and power in those blasts to deflect them by hand. It was a good thing his gauntlets could strike targets at a distance. Yet, as Robert continued to fire focused magic pulses, Drake found his gauntlets were still taking electrical damage, which surged into black cloak, and KO'd him quickly.

Purple Drake changed tactics, matching the barrage with Ki Blasts, and that finally made the knight cease his barrage. It had taken him two seconds to determine Drake could fire his blasts longer than he could. Thus, he switched to melee, and though Drake really should've expected it, he was still caught off guard as Eisenmensch rocketed forward with blasts from his boots, and the magic enchanting his fist armor activated, rapidly and significantly increasing their melee damage. Drake now understood why he had no weapon. His fists were the weapon.




"Nice fists…" Purple grunted in pain, as he caught them on his gauntlets, and began taking damage from the rapidly heating metal. "Seems I'm starting a trend…"

Robert quipped right back. "I saw you fighting in the Wallow…I was halfway through making a sword, when I realized…I could save a lot of energy, time, and materials by just punching!" He broke the grapple, struck again, but once again, purple cloak caught the fists. "I was also able to crank the damage bonus higher than a sword could withstand! Like this!" The gauntlets flared with magic again, light blue and rapidly, they lit up the area, and blew away purple cloak Drake in the same move.

Robert managed to punch all the way to red, by the time the one minute warning hit. Despite his armor, Drake had been hammering him through his clones throughout the fight too. Eisenmensch learned in those last few seconds the same thing that Drake had. Just being able to perceive one's opponent moving faster, didn't mean you could block them. Two Ki Block strikes to his abdomen and faceplate sent the Holy Knight onto his ass.

Drake, however, was grinning wide. Robert clearly worshiped Galdurath, instead of Laurelin, but it seemed the God of Knowledge's holy followers were still every bit as potent as his wife's.

​

His final tanky opponent was Varian Rynn, and as he strode onto the field, Drake noted a few changes since their Wallow raid. He was no longer sword and board, but rather had become a Dual Weapon Fighter, who apparently still possessed tank skills, likely by way of skill tomes. The system, and the academy, still classified him as a tank. Warriors were one of the oldest classes, with the most branches, so Drake wasn't entirely surprised that someone as rich as Varian had been able to change his class, and afford the tanking skill tomes needed to still keep his role in his party.

Varian raised one of his new swords, an Artifact tier weapon he'd gotten from the Wallow's final chest, towards Drake. Apparently, and unsurprisingly, practicing with it had led to its current dual-sword form. "I don't need your E.X.P. rainbow. Fight me properly, Monk Hero!"

Drake winced. Varian was over seventy after the raid, but he'd hoped he'd gain at least one level. "That's a lot of experience to miss out on…are you sure, Varian?"

The heavy armored warrior roared, and charged towards him, swords drawn. So Drake obliged him.




With fighters like Varian, even his defensive Monk skills would be tested. Drake was also much more aware of just how squishy he was. The goblins had never really managed to land enough hits to highlight that weakness, but facing his peers, competent opponents all of them, had made him realize through his images that he might be more durable, but his Health Points were not. He set blue cloak where he'd been standing to just chill there and look pretty with his Waterbending aura active, while Drake closed the distance with Varian.

They were a blur of limbs, and Drake winced as the swords easily cut into him. Their clash was brief, but bloody, but Drake gave as good as he got. He also decided distance was the smart play. He summoned a Dragon Pillar between him and Varian and the massive eruption of stone and molten stone damaged the tanky fighter quite badly, then, Drake sent a stream of water pulled from the air around them into the newly raised magma spewing pillar. Steam filled the air, and though Varian leapt straight into the cooled pillar, shattering it and ending the steam, Drake had already expanded it to cut off his sight.

Between the Waterbending Aura and his Life Giving Fist, Drake hit Varian through the steam enough to recover quite a lot of health. Then, he gained more distance, just as the warrior decided to spin in place, using his Whirlwind skill to dissipate the steam cloud. He looked up to see Drake floating in the air, green Ki Lightning dancing around his body as he guided it, and then struck Varian.

To his credit, the warrior sliced at the lightning, but Drake was in full control of it. It coiled around his weapon, straight into his armor, where it effectively electrocuted Varian where he stood, both stunning and damaging him. The heavy mithril plated High Human fell to a knee, smoking, and unarmed as the referee called the match.




Once Varian was healed, he walked off without a word to the victorious, but tiring Monk. Everything his images felt, he eventually did too. So far though, getting bodied by Rion's Battle Master skills had hurt more than Eisenmensch's fists or Varian's swords.

With the tank portion of his ridiculous gauntlet now over, Drake wondered which of the damaging classes he'd face first. Healers rarely participated in tournaments like this, both because they lacked enough attack power to win, and on principle. It was universally agreed upon that their role was to heal the fighters, and keep everyone alive. Instructor Hollowbranch was currently in charge of this, though Drake spied several First Year healers helping her out, Rose among them.

"Drake Long's next opponent will be the current lowest ranked damage dealer in Year One! Wu Kong, please report to the field!"

Drake looked over, as his disciple flipped onto the field from the stands to applause. Florian's song had made him an overnight school celebrity, and of course, once they were both on the field, the crowd started singing the chorus to The Monk and the Monkey, and how they smelled kinda funky.




The cocky monkey grinned at Drake. "You look tired, Master." He cracked his knuckles.

Drake smirked. "Not too tired for you, Wu Kong." He fell into his Dragon Stance, and gestured for the Siminid to bring it, while simultaneously inviting Wu Kong to his party.

"I know how your Item works!" Wu Kong declared. "All I have to do is smash the rainbow, and you, and then I'll be the Monk advancing!"

Drake gave his Disciple a wide smirk. "I've been taking it easy on you, Monkey…but no more."

And with two Steps of the Wind, the Monks leapt into combat.

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 28: The Monk and the Monkey


Galdurian Arc Warden Academy Dueling Grounds - Primus​

While it appeared both Monks had leapt into combat, Drake had actually jumped backwards, off the field, leaving Wu Kong to stop short before him and squint in confusion, right as black cloaked Drake popped out of stealth with a brutal uppercut to the Siminid's jaw.

To his credit, the monkey leaned into it, backflipping and landing on his feet, just in time to catch a Flurry of Blows from his Master. To an average observer, the Monks seemed matched, but to those who could see their lightning fast strikes, it was clear that Wu Kong was doing all he could just to parry. Trying to gain ground, Wu Kong shifted to Firebending Stance, a skill he'd gained as a Burning Soul Monk with a Path of the Elements Monk for a teacher.

Of course, Drake also knew firebending, and the addition of fire to their fight was neither unexpected nor unwelcome. The crowd roared as flames erupted from the Monks, ironically, right as the crowd got to the 'burning bright for all to see' part of The Monk and the Monkey.




Then, suddenly, an explosion of flame and a burning roundhouse kick, caught on the Siminid's palms, sent him sliding across the field, but his bare ape feet managed to keep him upright and balanced. "You know, Wu Kong," Drake started, and the monkey tensed. He hated when his Master started monologuing. It always preceded a big attack. "There is an aspect of Firebending I've yet to teach you."

Lightning started crawling up Drake's body in arcs of green Ki powered electricity. The spectators who'd seen him duel Skalos whooped excitedly. The black-cloaked Monk smirked at the monkey. "Dodge."

With a thunderous crack, a bolt of Ki lightning surged towards Wu Kong, who while panicked slightly at the shift, had seen this before, in their duels in the Leisure Sphere. The Siminid grinned, as he understood Drake's game. This was all for the crowd. He probably wanted to level him up, and simultaneously get people spreading even more rumors about their strange, new class.

Wu Kong kept his head, and swirled out of the bolt's path. Drake guided it harmlessly into the dirt with an explosion behind Wu Kong that drew more cheers. "Your aim needs work, Master!" Wu Kong taunted, "Perhaps you need a larger target?" The monkey turned around then, and started jiggling his ape posterior in Drake's direction. Wu Kong's fans ate it up.




Drake responded with lightning, and with a comical yelp, Wu Kong leapt twenty feet in the air, assisted by his Nimbus. He floated on the cloud, gripping his tail gingerly as he blew out the flames on the tip of his tail, sparked by Drake's precise control of the lightning.

It was Drake's turn to taunt him. "Seems like my aim is…on point, Disciple. But weren't you going to smash through all my clones, and then beat me? You're running out of time." By this point, three minutes had passed.

Wu Kong nodded, taking his meaning. He had to go all out, or he would lose the chance for experience. Plus, Drake had had to set up the crowd to believe that Wu Kong could almost surpass his master thanks to his training and class, despite the gulf in their skill and levels.




Wu Kong breathed deep, and then roared, activating the Rage of the Monkey King, and immediately followed that with a Berserker Rage, which extended the duration of his rage-based stance to a full minute, at the price of leaving him exhausted afterwards. Each of his hits did critical damage in this state, and that was what he was after. Wu Kong became a crimson blur as he rocketed towards black cloaked Drake, who blocked his strike, but still took enough damage to pop. Next came purple, and so on.

One on one, at least in this state, the Siminid Monk could keep up with Drake's clones, who were now giving the same subtle lack of effort they had to the other duelists. And like the other duelists, his level grew quickly, from thirty to thirty five. In one minute, Wu Kong managed to smash his way to red cloaked Drake, the last one before white, and that was where Drake made an effort again.

The crowd only saw two crimson blurs, as they fought in the air almost as often as they did on the ground, but eventually, Wu Kong ran out of steam. Another more successful roundhouse kick to the monkey's jaw sent him slamming back into the field, as Drake floated above him, and slowly, dramatically, and purely for effect, brought both of his hands before him, moving them in a circular pattern that Earthlings would recognize as a Yin Yang pattern, before aligning them by his waist, one atop the other, as he charged up a Ki Blast.

He didn't need to shout the name of the skill, he never had, but it helped him focus, and ticked his nerd box. It would also give his Disciple a chance to counter, and perhaps future opponents would mistakenly assume he needed to shout to use the skill.

"Kaaaaa!"




Wu Kong's eyes widened. He was quite familiar with what came next, and just how sharply Drake could turn the beam. There was a flaw in the Kamehameha Wave though, one Wu Kong had found through desperation.

"Maaaaaaaay!"

Wu Kong grimaced. Usually, he'd dodged this with his rage stance, but that was now spent, and though he could technically activate the Rage again, any critical hits would do enough damage to him to end his match prematurely. And due to recent life events, Wu Kong had gained a new determination to never finish prematurely.

"Haaaaaaaa!"

He shot into the air with the Nimbus, gaining height. He'd have to sacrifice his movement and reaction at the last possible second, but he did have one skill left that could take out the crimson cloaked Monk.

"Maaaaaaaaaaaaay!"




As Drake reached the threshold for the stronger Ki Blast, several things happened at once.

"HAAAAAA!" Roared through the stadium, as the destructive Ki beam surged towards Wu Kong, who dodged it by charging into the attack. Usually, Drake responded to this by making the beam even wider, but the monkey was betting on his Master not wanting to reveal that versatility this early.

His gambit paid off, as red Drake smirked, seeing his Disciple's ploy. Wu Kong dodged the beam in the air by inches as it cut across the sky, into the clouds, aimed high enough to not accidentally clip one of Primus's skyscraping towers as it surged through Arcadia's atmosphere.

"Buuurning…FINGERRRR!" Wu Kong shouted out his own skill, as he reached Drake's crimson robe, and slammed his palm into his chest. "HEAT END!"




Drake's clone exploded in powerful flames, as Wu Kong spent one of three charges of his Burning Soul skill to take him out. The crowd erupted into cheers, and a very tired Monkey King floated down to the field with the help of the Nimbus wisps around his ankles. They formed into the full cloud, as the cheering died down, in response to what the original Drake was doing.

Slow, loud claps echoed across the field as he stepped onto it. "One minute warning!" The referee shouted, and Drake nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"Not bad, Disciple. Unfortunately, you needed all three of those to get through my Health Points." Drake slid his hands into the sizable yet subtle pockets of his robe as he stepped onto the field.

Wu Kong grinned as his fur bristled. "Are you saying I can't take you down?"

Drake smirked nonchalantly as he shamelessly channeled Champion Lance. "I'm saying…your Tournament Challenge ends with me, Wu Kong!" He let the air around him make his robe flare dramatically, and then, he vanished.




Wu Kong naturally recognized this, too. Usually, Drake entering Stealth meant the final blow was coming. Much like the Kamehameha, Wu Kong had learned, or more accurately guessed, how to stop him when in stealth. Every time Drake struck from being hidden, it was at his head or abdomen, usually with the intent of knocking the air out of his lungs. He seemed to like avoiding shots to the head, when possible.

Wu Kong focused his mind, and breathed, looking for any sign of Drake. Shifting dirt. A slight crunch. Anything that would give him away. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his staff. For some reason, at Drake's insistence, the Monk Hero had insisted on upgrading it with very specific upgrades, and had made it able to shrink, or grow to almost absurd lengths, reinforced its durability with Orichalcum, and turned it red.

For his part, Drake was impressed. Wu Kong was using his stance to react rapidly to wherever Drake attacked him from. With the crimson, gold-capped Power Pole, the monkey had every direction covered. But Drake knew how to unbalance him, and Step of the Wind was off cooldown again.




Wu Kong suddenly yelped, and spun, smashing his staff through the air behind him, where he'd felt Drake yank on his tail. Since it wasn't an attack, Stealth did not fade, but that quick turn and strike left his back wide open. Wu Kong went rigid, as Drake reappeared, and applied a Ki Block to the bundle on nerves in his neck, that was also a nexus of his body's inner Ki.

In technical terms, he'd empowered a Dragon Palm with Ki Block, and the resulting block would, he had discovered with some practice on low level and vaguely humanoid monsters, result in what Drake was calling a Vulcan Nerve Pinch. Unfortunately, this time, the system did not unlock a new skill with that name as it had for the Kamehameha Wave.

Unceremoniously, and somewhat anticlimactically, Wu Kong collapsed to the ground, tongue lolling. The referee called it when Wu Kong did not rise again. "The victory goes to Drake Long!" Wu Kong's fans visibly deflated, and Drake watched quietly as he took in who seemed to be rooting for him. His Disciple had a loyal, growing fan base, but it seemed like most of the student body was hopping onto the Drake Long bandwagon.

Drake took his place just outside the field again, and waited, glancing at the bracket board floating magically above the stands for all to see. Thankfully, someone had the wherewithal to update, and shrink, the comically lopsided bracket with each of Drake's victories. There was a long list of names left to level and punch through, and apparently the plan was to see if he could make it to the actual brackets, with the older students, after essentially fighting every First Year that had wanted to participate in the Ternion Tournament.

At least these first matches were only five minutes. He'd have ten against Skalos or whoever else he faced from the upperclassmen, and against the other schools, in the proper tournament, there was no limit whatsoever.

Drake sighed quietly, and sent out the black cloaked version of himself once again, as his next opponent arrived.