2.06 – Spar

Back before Tenet, Natalie’s fights had been with blunted weapons and thick sparring pads. Because, obviously, prior to her unlocking, a sword’s blade to the neck would’ve meant a quick end to her career, and the same for a blunt impact hitting just right, thrown by a competent fighter.

Now, having received her class, she had been granted an invisible defense. ‘Hitpoints’. She could take previously career ending blows and walk away not much worse for wear. Most of the time. It wasn’t a perfect defense. Empowered by a skill, serious damage could be done even to a person full on HP. The dungeon wasn’t the only way students ‘became a statistic’ at Tenet. But it wasn’t a common event, either. Tenet hardly wanted their students dropping like flies.

But while it wouldn’t be pleasant taking a direct blow to the head, even a level one combat class was many times more durable than their unclassed or other-classed counterparts.

So, fighting with real weapons was the standard at Tenet.

She adjusted her grip on her hammer, watching her opponents. She itched for the fight to start. It’d happen any second now—as soon as Instructor Robin called it.

This class period—from nine thirty to eleven—wasn’t cordoned off for sparring specifically, though spars of various sorts did happen often. The overall intent was to be training students in the many situations an aspirant delver could find themselves in. This included one-on-ones, but most commonly, of various composition: two on twos, three on theres, or even mismatched fights.

Today, coincidentally, she’d gotten Liz as her partner. Their two opponents were, of course, classmates: the first, a tall boy with shaggy brown hair wielding a spear, and the second, a willowy-looking girl with a long staff. The boy was some kind of fighter, at a guess, and the girl, a mage.

Natalie wasn’t sure who’d win, compositionally speaking. It was anyone’s game. Most fights were, besides the worst combinations—like two healers.

It was unfortunate that she’d gotten Liz as a partner, though. Not because a fighter and healer was bad—the opposite; it was close to ideal—but because it meant Natalie had to prove herself. If there was a fast way to destroy Liz’s interest in partying up, it would be floundering in a spar. And sure, Natalie had explained to Liz that she’d gotten her class just a few days before the semester, but excuses were excuses: it didn’t matter the reason she got her ass handed to her, just that if it happened, it meant Liz might see her as an unsuitable delving partner.

She took a steadying breath. She felt naked without armor. Tenet students trained without it, relying on hitpoints to save them. So, she wore only the tight Tenet uniform. The skirt was actually pretty flexible. It didn’t get in the way during her movement. Still, it felt flimsy. Even knowing HP would save her from real injury, seeing her opponent wield a real, honest-to-gods spear … well, it was hard to just ignore that.

To her side, Instructor Robin swiped her hand down, signaling the start of the fight.

Finally.

Natalie charged forward. Not more than two steps forward, and Liz’s empowering skill hit her. A surge of warmth spread from her stomach outward, washing across her like a powerful liquor. She’d known to expect it. She and Liz had had a brief—emphasis on brief—moment to discuss each other’s skills and strategy. The same for their two opponents.

In the same manner Natalie had, the boy with a spear—Elliot, Natalie thought she remembered—rushed forward. The two spellcasters, Liz and Camille, happily stayed on the outskirts. Though, by the way Camille strafed sideways, lining her staff toward Natalie, her second opponent wasn’t a support mage, like Liz.

So, the bulk of the fighting would be on Natalie.

Which she was fine with, especially considering the intoxicating, glowing strength that had suffused her. Liz might not contribute directly, in the form of combat magic or swinging a weapon, but she would more than pull her weight.

Natalie’s class had already made her faster, stronger, and more flexible than she’d ever been before—to an extent she wasn’t entirely used to it—but even that difference was inconsequential to Liz’s empowerment buff. She surged across the sparring ring, arriving to her spear-bearing opponent with a speed that surprised even her.

Back when Natalie had first gotten her class, Jordan had made a joke: that since she was bad at spellcasting, she would ‘just have to be extra good at punching stuff’.

It’d been a joke, but it was also the truth. Her skill with magic wasn’t up to par. She had to rely on what she was good at.

Fortunately, she was good at it.

Elliot’s eyes widened, not prepared for Natalie’s rapid advance. Not taking a particularly subtle approach, she swung, rocketing her hammer toward him. He dodged, but only barely. Natalie was fast. Liz’s buff was no joke.

Capitalizing on Elliot’s retreat, she surged forward a second time, stepping to the side of his spear, then bashing her shield at where his hands met the haft. The blow connected solidly, throwing his already-compromised combat stance further into disarray.

Somewhere in the back of her mind—her active concentration was on the fight—she found herself surprised. The boy’s defense had been horrible, even accounting for Natalie’s empowered speed. Right? Or was Liz’s spell even stronger than she thought? Either way, she’d broken it with so little effort. She’d expected more from Tenet students.

Unfortunately, the advantage of having a buff was offset by the two-on-one, which finally came into play. Natalie might have been empowered, making her stronger and faster than Elliot, but he had a second teammate—one who could fight, rather than heal and buff.

Vines sprouted from the ground, wrapping around Natalie’s ankle. She cursed, stumbling. Elliot, at least, had stumbled back too, gritting his teeth from the pain of Natalie’s shield smashing his hands. If he’d had gauntlets, or even gloves, that maneuver would’ve been a lot less effective. But Tenet didn’t allow armor in spars, and she’d have been an idiot not to take advantage of it.

Natalie struggled for a moment more, failing to break out of the vines. A second spell was humming to life in Camille’s outstretched hand, but Natalie could hardly deal with the next one when she was struggling to deal with the first. She yanked her leg, jarring her knee over, twice, three times, then four, then finally had to yield, accepting her fate: she couldn’t break out. And Elliot had recovered, so that took priority.

He thrust his spear toward her, and she slapped it away with her shield. Another jab, another parry—closer this time—and Natalie yanked her foot. Still stuck.

“Any help here?” Natalie shouted. She growled as she barely deflected Elliot’s blows, still stuck into the ground by Camille’s ensnaring spell. What an irritating—and therefor useful—ability.

“No dispel,” Liz called back. “Sorry.”

Natalie smashed another thrust of Elliot’s spear away, the spearhead sparking against reinforced wood. She couldn’t press the advantage, though, glued into the ground, and his spear reached much farther than Natalie’s hammer.

At least he was awful. It wasn’t hard to deflect him, even rooted, and in such a compromised position. Though, it probably just seemed that way. Liz’s empowerment—to her strength, speed, and senses—was making his movements seem clumsier than they were.

Elliot and Camille coordinated their next attacks. Natalie could deflect a spear, but not a spear and a spell. Two attacks came at her at once, and Natalie had to pick. She chose the spear, rather than the spell. A fist-sized shard of wood—Camille’s spell seemed to be plant-themed—slammed into her at full speed. She managed to maneuver in a way it didn’t hit exactly as intended, glancing off her hip, but damn, it still hurt. Felt more like a direct hit from a sledgehammer. Maybe the spear would’ve been easier to take.

She grunted, but kept focus on Elliot, still trying to yank her foot out of Camille’s entrapment. Then, all at once, she broke free with a stumble. Elliot was as surprised as her. They fumbled for a second, adjusting to the new circumstances of the fight. Natalie recovered first. She went on a vicious offensive.

A few exchanges later, her hammer connected solidly with his shoulder.

It hit even harder than she had expected, the fault of Liz’s empowerment. He went careening to the side, pushed by the force of the impact, barely managing to stay on his feet.

A warm glow suffused the pain on her hip. Liz, healing the injury. Natalie could feel that peculiar resource—her hitpoints—surge back to full. It had dipped dangerously low from Camille’s attack, and the second one might have done real damage. That would have put Natalie out of the fight. Or worse.

More than that, though, it would’ve been embarrassing, and potentially lose her a teammate. Impressing Liz was the most crucial part of this spar.

So. Time to wrap it up.