Primal Hunter Volume 6

A Second Day at the Colosseum

The last time Jake slept, it had been because he had utterly over-exhausted himself and run out of mental energy. However, this time, it was a far more normal sleep. He even got in a good seven hours before he woke up—more than he had initially planned. Not having an alarm clock made it hard to plan out how much you wanted to sleep.

Oh, yeah, that reminds me… The Sword Saint’s timer.

To use a special painting infused with time magic was a nice idea, but who could have known that the very first dungeon Jake entered would take away all his items? But hey, at least the Sword Saint likely wouldn’t yell at him if he was late, as the old man was also doing the Colosseum of Mortals along with Jake.

Wait, he probably has some overpowered internal clock skill… Jake realized. Sure, Jake also had an internal clock, but that honestly didn’t work very well in circumstances like this. In combat, he could count time passing down to less than a millisecond, but when things were calm, his clock broke.

Getting out of bed, Jake stretched, feeling refreshed. He was in a small room with nothing but a pretty bad bed and a wooden table with a lantern containing what looked like red fireflies. Jake didn’t really need the lamp, but it was nice of the Colosseum to provide them for those with lesser Perception.

Jake opened the door to his room to find dozens of other doors stretching out to either side of him. He was in a large dormitory of sorts that seemed to operate more like an inn than an actual dormitory. The building itself was placed in a decently sized city just down the road from the Colosseum.

He had previously seen it with his Pulse of Perception but hadn’t really paid it much mind. Now he realized he was probably going to spend quite some time there. Hopefully with better accommodations in the future. The small room sucked, but at least it was better than where Owen was stuck.

The poor guy was sleeping in a large communal room with bunkbeds. Three-layered bunkbeds, even. When Jake went to get him, he didn’t look like he had gotten nearly enough sleep, but he pepped up pretty quickly.

“Hey, Jake! Slept well?” he asked cheerfully.

“Could be better, but I’ll manage,” Jake said, wanting to at least sound a bit empathetic toward the poor guy. “You mentioned yesterday that you know about a great place to get breakfast?”

“Yeah! My old man kept talking about how great the food is,” Owen said enthusiastically. “Just follow me!”

And follow him, he did. Owen led Jake to a dining hall elsewhere in the city, not far from the dorms. There, Jake had a meal he could only describe as scrumptious. Having to eat was an obvious downside to his reduced stats, but getting to eat was pretty damn sweet, and Jake had nearly begun to forget how good food was.

A diet of toxic ingredients was good for his Malefic Palate, but not his regular palate.

After eating, the two of them naturally headed to the Colosseum again. It was about seven in the morning at this point, with the fights beginning an hour later. Could Jake have been more efficient with his time, optimizing how he spent it? Sure, but why would he do Challenge Dungeons at all if he didn’t enjoy them? Plus, it wasn’t like he would actually be delayed, as far as he could tell.

Walking to the Colosseum, he looked over his menu related to the floor.

Current objective: Be promoted from Initiate Fighter to Fledgling Fighter

Current rank: Initiate Fighter (0/5)

Colosseum Points: 20

Lives remaining: 10

Firstly, was a Fledgling Fighter considered better than an Initiate? Both sounded like new fighters who sucked, but alas, if that was what the Wyrmgod decided was a good rank-up name, so be it. It was dumb, but sure.

Looking at the points, Jake had gained 2 for every win and then 10 for the Promotion Match, courtesy of clearing the quest. Exactly how the math worked with giving points, he naturally didn’t know, but he was planning on gathering a bigger data set as fast as possible.

He just had to keep kicking.

And kick, he would.

At higher ranks, getting a match could take time, but it was normal to do several a day in low ranks. After signing up for a match, Jake took a seat and noted that it would take forty minutes before it began, as he was still a bit early for the eight o’clock opening time.

Owen had run off to the training area to converse with some of the other fighters while gathering information on them, which Jake didn’t see a big need for. Apparently, there were other training areas for higher-ranked combatants, and everyone in this training area was below Fighter rank.

Sitting there on his lonesome, Jake tried to meditate a bit, but it proved short-lived as he detected someone approaching. Someone familiar.

Opening his eyes, he saw an elven woman who now wore a slightly less extravagant robe. She carried a fan that she used to cover half of her face as she walked over, her appearance making her look very out of place. Jake hoped for a moment she wasn’t going toward him, but considering there wasn’t anyone else on the bench he was sitting on, that didn’t seem likely.

Preparing himself mentally, he looked her way. She hurried the last few steps and stopped right in front of him, the fan open and only revealing her eyes and the top of her head. To his eyes, anyway. Sphere still saw the nervous-as-hell face she tried to hide.

“Good morning, my fellow combatant,” she said in a weird-ass tone. “It is surely a fortunate happenstance that we would meet once more.”

“I am sitting in a waiting area at the gates not far from the Battlemaster… It would be weird not to see me.” Jake smirked. “But, sure, we can call it fortunate and random.”

Hey, if he was going to have to wait for a match to start and she wanted to talk to him, she had to be ready for him to mess with her a bit, right?

“I… Perhaps I have sought you out intentionally,” she said, hiding more of her face with the fan. “I saw your other fights yesterday after you bested me. It was truly impressive, and your martial skills are outstanding.”

“Thanks?” Jake said, not sure what she was getting at. “You are kind of getting me curious… Why did you approach me?”

“Where are my manners? Before we get to that, introductions are in order. I am Pollaystrasirial Langtdumtnavn, a master sorcerer in the making.” She gave an exaggerated bow like one of those nobles in old TV dramas. “I was hoping to perhaps build proper rapport and potentially foster a healthy long-term relationship with my fellow combatant. Your talents shown already make it clear you will go far, and I am certain I can prove myself most useful.”

Jake thought for a second. “What are you peddling, eh, Pollaystaia… You know what? I am just going to call you Polly.”

“It is Pollaystra⁠—”

“Polly.”

Her eye twitched slightly. “Sir, I believe keeping proper conduct is⁠—”

“Eh, it’ll be fine, Polly.” Jake waved her off. “Name’s Jake, by the way.”

“Sir Jake, I⁠—”

“Just Jake. Jeez, are you even the same person I nearly kicked yesterday?”

“My actions yesterday were thoroughly unbecoming, and I deeply apologize,” she said, really looking like she was trying to save the situation. A situation Jake couldn’t figure out a reason for, as he had yet to discern what the hell she wanted outside of just making friends.

“All is forgiven and forgotten. Now, Polly, what did you want?”

“Sir, please, it is not Polly. It is⁠—”

“We are talking in circles now, Polly,” Jake said, cutting in, adding in a teasing tone, “Now, talking in circles—that’s unbecoming.”

“You…” She sneered slightly, trying to gather herself fast. “Very well. I come offering information and partnership. I realize that I may need more studying to truly excel at magic before I rejoin the arena, but I have researched the Colosseum for a long time and believe I could be of use.”

Jake motioned for her to continue, still not sure if he needed someone to give him information. At least, not the information he reckoned she could get or knew of.

“I…” she said, looking down at Jake sitting on the bench, but then something finally seemed to snap. “I’ve had enough of you! Agh! Why are you like this? Have you never heard of proper etiquette? To remain sitting down when talking to a noblewoman? To make up a name—nay, daring to use her first name without proper respect! Let’s not mention how you just left me crying yesterday, not even offering a lady your hand! Moreover, you… you…”

Her words petered out as she looked horrified at what she had just done, but before she could say anything, Jake cut her off.

“See, I already like this version of you much better.” Jake smiled, partly to calm her down and partly because that was how he genuinely felt. Overly uptight people sucked.

“I… Really?” she asked in a far more normal tone.

“Yep,” Jake said, nodding. “Also, I am impressed you only talked about how you were a noblewoman and not about this glorious wizard teacher of yours like yesterday.”

“Hmph, he is more than just a simple wizard! I have been taught magic by a true expert wizard who once also competed in the arena and nearly managed to reach the rank of Champion!”

“Define nearly,” Jake said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… I can’t be sure how close he got, but definitely really close!” Polly insisted, looking a little flustered.

“Sure, sure.” Jake nodded with a smirk. “Now, you say you got good information? Let’s start with an easy one. What are the different combatant ranks, and how many are there?”

Jake wanted to know how many people he needed to kick before he would be the Champion.

She looked at him for a moment, clearly confused, before realization flashed across her face. “Aha! A trick question! You won’t get me that easily. Everyone knows that only the information up to the Gladiator rank is publicly available until you reach the rank yourself.”

Jake nodded as if he totally knew that already, silently cursing at Owen for not sharing something that was obviously considered common knowledge. Why did he have to talk about herding cows for half an hour during breakfast instead of giving actually useful information?

“And what are the ranks between New Blood and Gladiator?”

Once more, she looked a bit confused until she smiled. “Surely, you jest? It is right in the pamphlet placed at every entrance.”

“I… Of course; I was just pulling your leg,” Jake jokingly said as he waved her off. Hurriedly, he took out the unread and crumbled-up pamphlet that had been in his pants since yesterday. Quickly uncrumpling it, he opened it and saw the different combatant rankings on the first page, spanning his current rank to Gladiator.

New Blood

Initiate Fighter

Fledgling Fighter

Upcoming Fighter

Fighter

Experienced Fighter

Journeyman Fighter

Veteran Fighter

Expert Fighter

Gladiator

So, ten ranks from New Blood to Gladiator… Wonder how many there are in total.

“Do you… Do you have any real questions?” the elven noblewoman he had decided was now called Polly asked.

“No, not really,” Jake said honestly. “That was why I messed with you. I am good for now, but who is to say I won’t have any questions in the future? How about you go meet up with Owen? That will make things easier if I can contact you through him and vice versa. Ah, Owen is⁠—”

“I am aware of who he is,” Polly said, nodding as she prepared to head off. “I won’t delay your preparations any longer. And… good luck with your matches.”

“Thanks,” Jake said with a wave as she left.

Doubt I’ll need it.

Spoiler warning: Jake didn’t need it.

In fact, he didn’t need any luck for the rest of the entire second day.

His first fight was against a guy with a longsword that he quite frankly wasn’t built to wield. The guy could deliver some nasty swings, but dodging them was way too easy. Jake could see how someone could get caught out, though, so the guy reaching Initiate Fighter made sense. Still lost after a good kick to the liver, making him surrender since he could no longer hold his sword.

The second match featured a water mage. This guy came prepared and carried with him a large jug of water that he threw right at the beginning of the fight. He then began to manipulate the water to try and hit Jake, at which point Jake sprinted forward and kicked him in the jaw, finishing the fight before his clothes got wet.

Having wet clothes for the rest of the day would have sucked.

The third was a standard match versus a guy with a sword. Took two kicks, that one.

During the fourth match, Jake finally met someone decent. An archer. At least, Jake thought he was decent, seeing as he had a quiver. But when Jake saw him properly, he spotted it: An utter abomination slung over his opponent’s back, with arrows… no, not arrows, bolts… in his quiver.

That’s right—the cretin had a crossbow. That deserved punishment.

Jake began the match by running forward, and to establish dominance, he didn’t show any mercy. He kicked the fake archer three times for his transgressions toward the world of archery. Five kicks total, if he counted the one where he “accidentally” stomped on the crossbow while exiting the fight and the first kick where he blocked the crossbow bolt mid-flight. That one was purely to show off and to rub in how bad crossbows were. Because guess what? The guy never even got a chance to reload his shitty weapon before Jake reached him and gave him some good kicks.

Anyway, the fifth match was also pretty normal, pitting him against a woman using a pike and shield. She was the one who had done the most research on Jake, as far as he could tell. She made sure to get in a good defensive position, and her eyes were firmly focused on Jake’s leg area. She also started the fight defensively, having seen that Jake primarily fought opponents by dodging a strike and then counter-kicking.

A good strategy that sadly proved ineffective. Jake had learned how to attack quite well through his practice with sim-Jake, and thus, through a clever feint, he made the woman stab her pike into the ground, whereupon Jake proceeded to stomp the wooden shaft to break its head off, with a second kick to her stomach sending her tumbling back.

Before Jake could even follow up, she announced her surrender, and Jake was off to his second Promotion Match in two days.

These five fights had taken Jake the entire morning, and it was now around two in the afternoon. Going to the Battlemaster, Jake wanted to do the next fight right away but was told that they should schedule it for later that day, as Promotion Matches “pulled bigger crowds.”

Jake wanted to complain… until the Battlemaster added something that made him realize it was moot. “Why the rush, Initiate Fighter? Even if you become a Fledgling Fighter today, you won’t have more matches before tomorrow. Those are the rules: You can’t enter any fights after a Promotion Match on the same day.”

So that was a bit of a bummer, as it ruined Jake’s plan to gain two ranks in one day. Being forced to wait, Jake did some actual training and stretches to fully get used to his body. It wasn’t overly needed, but he had to pass his time somehow.

After quite a few hours, Jake did get his rank-up of the day in a Promotion Match against his first heavily armored foe. He faced a large, burly man wearing full plate armor and wielding a flail. The guy definitely looked menacing coming out the gate, spinning the spiked balls on the flail around.

He looked a lot less menacing on the ground after Jake kicked the back of his knee, making him fall over. With the heavy plate armor and a dislocated knee, he couldn’t stand up again either, and the match ended in a quick surrender. Jake walked out, successfully promoted after only one kick.

One day, one promotion… Should be Gladiator in a bit over a week, then, right?

At least, that was the plan. However, there was one thing that was far more crucial to find out…

How high of a rank could he reach using only kicks?