After a quick flash of light and a small, dizzying sensation, Astaroth was teleported to a fifth and last platform. Before him stood a scrawny human woman, wearing robes and wielding a wand.
When the woman saw Astaroth, her shoulders instantly drooped. Her eyes already showed defeat, as she knew she stood no chance.
The woman got into a casting stance, getting as ready as she could. She hoped to cast at least one spell before being killed.
Unfortunately for her, Astaroth wanted to get back to observing the other players quickly, so as soon as the gong rang, he melded and rushed at her. A second later, the woman’s health bar was depleted.
Astaroth had kicked her away, into the barrier, and fired an arrow at her throat, triple tapping her in a single second, taking away all her health. He could see tears flowing down her face as she popped into pixels.
When she reappeared, he looked at her with apologetic eyes, then switched his focus to the many screens now before him. He could finally see the fight he wanted to see.
Luckily for him too, Khalor was put against a more experienced player, one that was playing a rogue-like class. The man before Khalor was from a race he had not expected to see here either.
The rogue player against Khalor was an Ash Elf!
Astaroth had not heard of any other Ash Elf player that made it out of their starting zones. This was the first he saw.
But he immediately recognized the reason for this man’s success. The way he moved out of the way of danger always last second, slipping in attacks with precision.
This player had skills that would only reflect from actual real-world training. This man was either, a trained military, or a hitman.
The precision of his strikes was surgical, and his combat sense was honed to perfection. Khalor’s undead army couldn’t pin him down at all, as he kited the hell out of them, taking some down in the process.
This dance lasted for around thirty seconds, with Khalor frowning all the while before he ended it. He pointed at the rogue player, and his giant raven and death knight lunged forward.
When the two high-level undead joined the fray, it took mere seconds for the Elf to get cornered and finally take lethal damage.
This gave Astaroth a bit of a clue on how to fight against the Necromancer if he ended up against him in the next phase. The rest of the bouts were less interesting, so Astaroth just sat on the ground, lazing about.
He watched the fights with a distracted eye, as all he wanted to know from the weaker players. As for the stronger players, most of them had already finished their fights too.
While Astaroth was watching the scenes with bored eyes, the skinny mage girl walked up to him.
“Umm… Excuse me… Can I ask you a question?” She said, twiddling her hand behind her back.
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The woman looked uncomfortable just standing near him. Talking to him was a chore, as far as she was concerned.
“What is it?” Astaroth asked.
“What… What is your c.. class?” She stammered.
Astaroth looked her up and down, trying to spot some physical markers that she was deceiving him. But it seemed as if she was genuinely scared of him.
“And why should I answer your question?” Astaroth asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Oh… You… You don’t have to. I was just curious.” She replied, taking a step back.
Astaroth almost laughed at the meek girl. She looked like the type of woman that feared confrontation.
Not that he didn’t understand that, as he avoided them himself. But she was brave enough to come to ask him a question, albeit her clear fear of him.
So he answered her query.
“My class is Soulmancer. It’s a special mage class.” He said, turning his eyes back to the screens.
“You’re not a Beastmaster?” The woman asked, visibly confused.
“What made you think I was?” Astaroth asked.
“Well… You are fighting with weapons. Mages usually stay back. At least most do.” She answered, looking at Astaroth curiously now.
“Well, I’m also learning the way of the Weapons Master.” Astaroth said nonchalantly.
“But… Wouldn’t that mean you aren’t focusing on your main class?” The woman asked.
“Ahh, but is that so bad?” Astaroth replied, with a question of his own.
“Yes?” The woman said, almost unsure.
“People often think that mastering one thing is the best. But have you never heard the quote ‘Jack of all trades, master of none, but often better than master of one’?” Astaroth asked her.
This sent the woman into thinking, her face scrunching up, as she started pacing. Astaroth could see he had given her things to think about, so he returned to watching the bouts.
Sadly for him, they were almost all done, and the ones left were between unskilled players, simply swinging at each other like drunken brawlers.
When the woman finally snapped out of her thinking, a look of realization dawned on her face. She spun around to look at Astaroth, but before she could say anything, they both started glowing.
Astaroth smiled at her, as they both got teleported away.
Every player started reappearing in the large arena from the start, with a large screen appearing in the sky again. On it, popped up the face of chairwoman Constantine.
She was all smiles, her hands crossed on the desk in front of her.
“Phase three has now concluded. The scores of every player will now be shown, and players not in the top thirty-two will get disqualified.” She said, as the screen split in two.
The scores were all over the place, ranging from ten to zero, with only three players having a score of ten. Astaroth grinned as his name was in those three.
The other two were Khalor and Lucian_Valentine. The second name surprised him a little, as even though he was a pro player, he wasn’t all that known.
Astaroth guessed he had been lucky on his opponents, and got less skilled players during the phase, letting him attain victory in every round.
But it mattered not. He was in the top thirty-two, and that meant he was entering the final stage.
‘I made it!’ He thought.