Path of the Berserker

That meant taking it easy for today.

At work, I headed into the field with my usual trio, leading a group of four mid-tier Foundation Realm cultivators to find some rare crafting materials for advancement. With no plans for advancement myself, I spent the day teaching my handlers the basics of tracking by finding a C-class monster that would give our clients what they were looking for.

We ended up spending the morning on the trail of a giant boar which we finally managed to corner at the base of an old quarry. We stood back as the four cultivators went at it and true to the ranking books, they were able to take it down pretty easily as a group. They appeared to have a great time doing it though. I guessed nothing made you feel more powerful than kicking the shit out of a giant spirit beast.

I had to admit that the day was somewhat enjoyable for me as well, just doing my normal job and teaching the new handlers some of my skills. The way their eyes gleamed with interest and their appreciativeness for me taking an interest in them was a satisfaction that couldn’t be beat.

Except for the free lemonade that came with it, of course.

But by the time we finished up for the day, I was itching to get on with what I was really planning for today. After spending a few minutes catching up with Lee and Mu Lin, who had, not surprisingly, shifted the odds on her bet due to my ‘breakthrough’, I bid them both farewell and headed off towards the arena.

* * *

The Official Jurin Province Arena was located in the southern part of the city, a few blocks away from the restaurant district. Being late afternoon, the streets were already abuzz with people transitioning from the markets to the fields, while simultaneously the food vendors assembled to take the farmers’ places, setting up shop for the night.

I practiced my use of [Mask of the Despised] as I sauntered through the crowd, my steps slow and ponderous, more out of necessity due to my wound than anything else, but it was just like how Threja used to walk. That made me think about her for a moment, my one-time mentor and brief friend. I prayed that she had made it, that she was out there kicking ass in the celestial realm somewhere. I wondered what it was like in the worlds beyond. Perhaps I would find out for myself one day.

The outside of the arena was already packed with people by the time I arrived. So much so that I wondered if I had missed something or if this many people were a normal occurrence this time of day. My question was answered when I got close enough to see that the people waiting outside were actually in a queue.

“Hey, what is all this?” I asked a middle-aged guy standing in front of me.

He glanced back at me warily, as if not wanting to speak once he saw that I was a Terran, but I kept staring at him with [Struggler’s Resolve] until he eventually said something.

“The qualification matches,” he said. “They started early this year. Didn’t you hear? It’s half price to get in if you come early.”

I honestly had so much contempt towards the tournaments before that I avoided everything about them completely in the past. Now I was beginning to regret that I hadn’t paid a bit more attention. “So, you’re just here to spectate?”

The man chortled. “Do I look like a fighter to you?”

“So where do the fighters go to sign up?”

The man looked me up and down a moment, sizing me up, and then after producing a squirt of lemonade, pointed to a much shorter queue a distance away, towards the side entrance of the arena. “Go there. Good luck.”

As I approached the new queue, I could definitely tell there was a difference between the types of people in this line versus the last. Most were young men that resembled the initiates Hein had brought with him: late teens, rough around the edges with a desperate hunger about them, a few women too. I supposed I was no different.

But what really surprised me were the number of damn kids in the line. There were at least twenty of them, all looking around twelve or so. Some of them were standing with whom I assumed were their parents, most of them farmer-looking types and dirt poor by the quality of their dress.

As I entered the line, more than a few sets of eyes fell on me, the only Terran in the bunch. They sized me up like the old guy just did, but there were no words spoken or lemonade to be had. We were competitors already, it seemed. As I got closer to the front of the line a huge Qi-infused placard displayed the information I was looking for.

12th Annual Tournament of Mortal Champions

Registration Rules and Guidelines

[Wooden Bracket]

Entry Fee: 1 Tael

Qualification Requirements: Top 5 Ranking in Qualifying Match

Rewards

20th Rank and higher - Class-C Citizenship

Winner – Free Entry to Iron Bracket

[Iron Bracket]

Entry Fee: 50 Spirit Stones

Qualification Requirements: Previous Top 20 Ranking in [Wooden Bracket]

Rewards

20th Rank and higher - Class-B Citizenship

Winner - 1000 Spirit Stones

[Golden Bracket]

Entry Fee: 1000 Spirit Stones

Qualification Requirements: Previous Top 20 Ranking in [Iron Bracket]

Rewards

20th Rank and higher - Class-A Citizenship

Winner – 10000 Spirit Stones

[Special Invitational Jade Bracket]

Entry Fee: Compliments of Her Imperial Majesty, Third Princess Lunalah, 257th heir of the Glorious Imperial Yee Dynasty

Qualification Requirements: By royal invitation only

Rewards

Winner – 100,000 Spirit Stones

Additional Fees

Storage Facilities - 10 Wen per night

Weapon/Equipment Rental – 30 Wen per night

Sparring Court Rental – 500 Wen

Martial Court Rental – 1 Tael

Trial Court Rental – 5 Tael

I scanned over the list and wondered what the hell was the difference between the different classifications of citizenship. I’m sure I must have learned it in school at some point, but I’d be damned if I could recall what any of them meant now.

I wasn’t expecting the entrance fees either. One Tael was starting to feel like a whole lot of money again. As I scanned the various brackets, I couldn’t help but feel at the bottom of that totem pole in my mind. An overwhelming sense of despair overcame me for a moment, the Struggler suppressing my Flame.

My meager goal at the moment was only to acquire citizenship just so I could carve out a foothold in the cultivator’s world. A place for Terrans to call our own while I further advanced and grew strong enough to launch my true plans for liberation and rebellion against the empire. But if I was going to be strong enough to pull any of that off, then winning an event like even the Jade Bracket would have to be like child’s play to me.

And I felt a million miles away from that right now.

“You native?” a voice called from ahead of me, snapping me out of my depressing thoughts. It was a heavyset man dressed in imperial robes, one of three attendants standing behind a counter serving the would-be participants in queue. He then squinted at me in a way that reminded me of Mu Lin. “That’s some Qi you have. What are you? An artisan?”

“Uh…” Shit, I guess this guy really was like Mu Lin. I thought quickly, grabbing hold of my axe and spinning it in the air. “Yeah, I am. I’m a Foundation Realm Woodcutter. I study the path of the Falling Tree. Even mastered the [Three-Log Chop] technique in only one day.”

I grinned, turning it all into a joke, and the man huffed out an amused snort. “The hell are you doing here then? Or do you really know how to use that thing and are looking to qualify for the Iron Bracket?”

I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone else was within earshot. “To be honest with you, I have a question about the different levels of citizenship.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do they give you?”

The man eyed me like I was trolling him or something. “Are you truly so ignorant?”

I bowed, pressing my palms together. “Please, This One apologizes for his ignorance. If you can explain to me what each one—”

“Class-C citizenship grants you eligibility to enter into a martial sect or imperial service,” he said. “But I would be puzzled if you entered the tournament for just that.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“A crafter of your progression could gain the same through apprenticeship with the artisan sects easily, I would imagine.”

“Really? Can you own land with a C-class citizenship?”

“Own land?” He then nodded his head back in an ‘Ah-ha’ gesture. “So that’s why you want in the tournament. To own land.”

“Yeah.”

He smirked at me. “An ambitious one for your kind.”

I didn’t know what he meant by ‘your kind’ exactly, but the condescending connotation was clear. Still, he was helping me out, so I wasn’t going to throw a fit about it—just yet.

“Yeah, I’m looking to achieve a lot of stuff,” I said.

The Berserker in me couldn’t help but flex [Fear the Flame] as I said it, imagining my future self, swooping in and destroying the whole damn arena one day. I had to play the game for now though. This was a marathon not a sprint.

“Only B-Class and A-Class citizens can own land,” the man said.

I looked up at the board. That meant I had to enter the Iron Bracket, not the Wooden Bracket. Although I had figured that much as soon as Mu Lin had called it the shit-tier league. Nothing good could come from something with a name like that, but I had to confirm it regardless. “What else does B and A class give you?”

The man shrugged. “Lots of things. B-class citizens can hold higher levels of imperial office or become inner disciples with a martial sect, travel between cities. A-class citizens may own property within the imperial city itself and are allowed access to travel freely throughout the entire empire.”

“Damn…like space travel?”

He scoffed at me, as if that were an impossibility that I shouldn’t even be considering.

“So how do I sign up for the Iron Bracket?”

He raised a brow. “You don’t just sign up. You’d have to qualify first and then pay the fee. You know anything about fighting?”

“A little but not too much,” I said honestly. Still needed that damn manual, I thought. “What do I have to do to qualify?”

“It’s all up there.” He jerked his thumb at the board behind him. “If you want to compete in the Iron Bracket you’d have to have ranked within the top 20 of the Wooden Bracket within the last three years, but you’d need to qualify for even the Wooden Bracket first. You look strong and your Qi concentration is impressive for a Terran, but trees don’t fight back. You sure you’re up for this?”

I grinned at him. “Hey, you’d be surprised what a tree can do to you.”

He chortled. “You’re a funny one.”

“What do I need to do to qualify for the Wooden Bracket?”

“Place top five in a fifty person all-for-one match.”

“All for one? You mean like a Battle Royale?”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“I mean does everyone fight at the same time?”

“Yes. Fifty enter, last five standing qualify.”

Damn, that sounded brutal, especially considering all the kids involved, but it seemed a good way for me to qualify without gaining too much attention. I casually felt for the tenderness of my wound—tonight probably wasn’t a good night to try it though. I could barely manage a slow walk, much less fight. “I’ll come back later for that.”

“Later?” The man laughed. “Don’t know if there will be a later.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Wooden Bracket opens next week. The qualification rounds are nearly over. Only ten more spots left. That means two more qualifying matches. We have over forty already for a match tonight.”

“So what about tomorrow?”

He shrugged. “It’s early yet. If fifty more show up, we’ll have enough for two matches and be completed tonight. Or if not enough show, then you may get lucky if you come early tomorrow to get a spot.”

“Shit,” I swore.

Bad timing, but on second thought it was perhaps my Flame guiding me here. I hadn’t given much thought to even signing up for the tournament until I implanted that core last night. If I’d waited, I would have missed the opportunity completely.

I glanced around at my would-be competitors—desperate washouts and overachieving young masters in training ten years my junior. I could barely walk, much less fight and tonight was pretty much my last opportunity to qualify.

I huffed out a sigh. This wasn’t how I envisioned my public debut, but nothing worthwhile came easily, I supposed. As I prepared to take the plunge, I couldn’t help but think how aptly Mu Lin had nicknamed the Wooden Bracket.

Tonight was going to be a shitshow indeed.