A brother against brother fight is always interesting. Comparing their everything, skills, weapons, tactics, and even looks is something people always want to do; seeing the contrast of two people who grew up so close to each other. Sadly, I already knew who the cooler brother was. Adran was the dorky lame-looking one. Now, with all the equipment I gave him, it looked like he was trying much too hard to look cool. But you can't blame him for that, cause I gave him the armor. It was the only thing I could do not make him look like a complete dope but also give him something with good- well, semi-good stats on it. Iadra, on the other hand, was naturally way cooler than him. He was a twink, clearly, who was dual wielding twin swords with differently colored buffs, I'd imagine, while basically wearing black-bluish armor that was just cloth. It wouldn't provide any protection at all in the real world, well, not 'real' world. To all the people here it's the real world, for me it is A

The path I forged with [Storm's Path] turned the sand I trod upon to a glassy walkway. As lightning would have stricken any man, so I struck my own brother. But a split second before I had hit him the woman in the crowd, that my brother had been talking to since the beginning of this fight, yelled out, "MOVE YOUR ASS, ADRAN!" There was no use. None, in all the world I'd like to believe, had the speed to dodge [Storm's Path] fully but for one such as him, even a single graze would make him fall. Years ago, when I first obtained this skill, it already had the capability to cut through solid steel, and now, with all, my body, mind, soul and skills further refined, it should have cut through anything that had been laid before it. Most who will see it in action will have no choice, either taking it head-on or in a desperate attempt to try and block it, in which, if they even come to have the option of it, it will be an effort made in vain. Adran was not a man who was capable of neithe

In an instant, after putting on the gauntlets he had brought out of the rift, Adran's aura had changed. No longer was he a frightened little boy but a fighter first class; a man who had been fighting for years, a rugged combatant, but in the end his face betrayed him. He was still scared, now even more so. His fighting style was that of a hand-to-hand brawler, with fast and strong but elegant and efficient movements he rushed at me. There was only one person I could compare these skills to. Jarant, a very cocky stone-troll, was not only the strongest physical person I had known but also the best hand-to-hand fighter I have ever fought. A few times I fought him, in a friendly sparring match here and there, with no equipment or skills involved. Never will I forget that experience. If we were in a serious fight; where there were no weapons involved; I would have been sure to lose. Though comparing Adran to him, it was clear that my brother was lacking the refinement of someone w

Having a look of shock, the older Arre brother, Iadra, had awakened, but not where he had anticipated. He was lying on a bed with clean sheets in a white room instead of on the hard, sandy ground, with dust blowing up all around him. His body ached, and even sitting up was a herculean task. He noticed that next to him, sitting in another bed, was his younger brother, Adran. Iadra began by apologizing, "if there ever was a time I mocked you or have treated you with less respect than you deserved, I am sorry." Adran, after all the years that he tried to chase his brother's shadow, felt good that Iadra had acknowledged him, but this was neither the time nor the place for statements that came from the heart such as this. "After what had occurred, Iadra, you deserve to rest," said Adran as he stood up and beckoned his brother to lie down again. Iadra asked, "what has happened? Where are we? And where is that woman?" "You're in a hospital and it's been a day since the arena. You've a

By the gods. What am I going to do? "Oh, hear my prayer, Goddess Alexandra, Lady of Redemption and Vindication. I am just a lowly priest and your faithful servant. I ask you- I beg for guidance," I knelt down. "A few days ago, a relic, your very own medallion, which you gave to humankind to serve as a call to you, was taken from the church vaults by a ruthless and stone-hearted man named Aebshem and his group of followers. They worshiped false deities and golden idols and besmirch not only your name but the name of all the gods which reside in the heavenly realm with you. I've sent first-class heroes to take it back from their nefarious hands, but I'm still concerned. I have exerted all of my efforts, all the gold and silver I could muster. I wish I could do more, but with a weak body, all efforts I would make are in vain.My own hand is cursed since it is incapable of even striking when the gods command me to.Oh divine Mother, please give me a sign. What more can I do to help?" I