Astaroth fell to his knees, sweating and panting. The last five minutes had been nerve-wracking for him.
If at any moment, Stinger had used his teleport skill, he would have been unprepared. Luckily for him, the man had waited for the opportunity he was creating.
It was a matter of luck and mind games, and he had won. Astaroth looked up to see the board change, as his name slid up one bracket.
He smiled widely as he dropped to his back. He was then transported out of the arena, and into the now almost empty bleachers, while the next fight was about to begin.
The remaining 28 players were all loosely sitting next to each other. A large chunk of them were pro players, with a few dark horses amongst them.
Astaroth was one such dark horse in this competition, with most of the others being Athena, I’die, and Gulnur. There were a few others too, but he mostly focused on them.
Because they were walking towards him, accompanied by Phoenix.
“Astaroth! You finally won!” Gulnur exclaimed, almost running with his short legs.
“What do you mean, finally?! That wasn’t an easy fight!” Astaroth replied, frowning playfully.
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He then guffawed in laughter, as did Astaroth, enjoying the moment to relax.
“I’m more interested in another fact.” Phoenix said, sliding next to Astaroth.
“And what would that be?” Astaroth asked, almost uncomfortable with her proximity.
“You were shadowing him at the end. Where did you learn to move like Stinger?” She asked, leaning in close to him.
Astaroth backed away awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.
“Nowhere. I guess I just copied what he was doing.” He replied.
The surrounding four looked at him silently.
“You copied him?” Phoenix asked, her eyebrows lowering.
“Yes?” Astaroth answered, hesitantly.
“In the middle of a fight. You copied your opponent’s moves.” She said slowly, trying to drive her point.
“Yes. I looked at his movements and copied them. I always was a quick learner.” Astaroth said, trying to smile.
It ended in an awkward smile that made him look oddly guilty. Athena was the first to react to his statement.
She burst out laughing.
“Hahahaha! I already knew you were a monster, but this! This wins first prize!” She exclaimed, clutching her stomach.
“What’s so funny?” Astaroth asked, frowning.
He felt slighted that she was laughing. He thought she was mocking him and not believing what he said.
“Do you not realize how ridiculous that sounds?” I’die chimed in, his face contorted from trying not to laugh.
“What do you mean, ridiculous? I’m not lying!” Astaroth said, almost pouting.
“No one says you are. It’s just… *sigh*” Phoenix said, breathing out a long sigh.
“We believe you. It’s just… Do you know who Stinger is?” Phoenix then added.
Astaroth looked at her curiously, his head slightly tilted.
“I know he is a pro player. And that he was in the top fifty in ‘ToB’. But that’s it.” Astaroth answered.
He wasn’t sure why Phoenix was asking him this.
“Stinger is not just a pro player. He was a world-class mercenary before becoming a gamer. The dagger style you just copied is one of his own making.” Phoenix said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
Astaroth looked at her, clueless.
“And?” He said.
“You copied the technique of a master knifeman, during combat, in less than ten minutes. Do you realize now how that sounds outrageous?” She asked him.
Astaroth took her words in, slowly realizing what she meant. Then it hit him.
“Oh…” He said, finally making the connection.
Everyone had just watched him shadow a man that had worked his life into a knife style specific to him. And all that within a brief time span and strenuous conditions.
Now he understood why they were all saying it was ridiculous. Because it really was.
He scratched the back of his head again.
“I guess I really am a fast learner then.” He said with a chuckle.
The four around him burst out laughing again. While they were asking questions about his fight, how he felt, and what he was thinking during it, the next combat had already started.
In the arena, two familiar players were facing off. One of them, a tall man, wielding two scimitars. The other, a tough-looking Demonoid, with a great axe in hand.
These players were Killi and Anton. They were duking it out with a clear winner in every clash they had.
Every time they fought in melee, Killi would then dash back, and shoot some arrows at his opponent, slowly chipping at his health bar. It took only two quick minutes before the fight was over.
Astaroth barely watched it, since he knew who would win, and he cared little for Anton. He only wished he could have been the one to eliminate him from the competition.
In the meantime, two other players had joined their little gathering. One of them was Morticia, the other was Khalor.
Morticia had mainly come to congratulate him on his victory, and to comprehend the dynamic between these five players.
She mingled with them, focusing her attention on their interactions.
Morticia was a professional psychologist outside the game, with a diploma from Harvard University, and she was using her skills to path out their relationship.
All she understood from it was that they all seemed to connect as good acquaintances, almost friends, with Astaroth acting as glue.
The specific situation that led them there was most likely their escapade during round one, which Astaroth had told her about. It barely made sense to her, but she kept observing.
As for Khalor, he had come with another aim in mind. When he got to Astaroth, he asked if he could have a quick chat one-on-one with him.
Astaroth hesitated at first, not sure what he wanted to talk about, but still agreed to his demands. After getting up and walking away a few meters, Khalor looked him right in the eye, and said the weirdest thing Astaroth had ever been told.
“You are my butterfly effect. There are things we need to discuss.”
“Your what?!” Astaroth replied, completely confused.
