The coliseum was made out of a bright grey stone that was smoothed over with a clean polish despite being in the middle of nowhere. It's enormous size made it an easy building to spot, add to the fact that William seemed to memorize the location, they didn't have trouble finding it.
Although, that really didn't explain why they had to go so far just to reach this place. Despite it's clean exterior, there was no sapient life around the building. In fact, it was practically abandoned. Besides the duo, no one else was here.
The coliseum itself was pretty standard interior as well, since it contained rows and rows of seats surrounding the stadium in the center. Everything surrounding the stadium was made of the same material as the outside, while in the middle section a shiny black material was laid out across the floor. When they made it to the center after going through the gates, Morey saw 4 other massive gates across from where they entered from. Thankfully there were no signs of life in any of them.
Underneath the coliseum seats from where they entered there were multiple rooms that were left open, where inside Morey could see many weapons scattered messily around the floor. Weapon racks, rusted lockers rooms, some having their doors busted open, and a bench with paint peeling off the wood were all still present in the room. Walking a bit further there was another much larger, and colder, room that was full of boxes of wheat, carrots, apples, potatoes, and some red plants Morey didn't recognize.
William told him to wait inside while he went to what Morey assumed was the food room. He was left in the center of the building, taking in the sight. It looked so alien. Compared to the Roman Colosseum from his world, this one was clean and still standing. There were a couple of chips here and there, but the main foundations were still holding strong.
Morey walked over to the other gates across the stadium. Looking closer at the gates, he saw they were made out of iron but no latches or locks were in sight, making him wonder how they would have opened those gates.
Despite the alien setting, Morey never felt more comfortable during his time in Yumesueno.
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"Another knockout! Mr. Anderson goes for another flawless victory!" The announcer screamed on the microphone. It was shocking to those who didn't know who the boxer was. He looked so scrawny compared to the beefy fighter he was going up against.
Morey stood over his opponent. His breath was ragged but he was fine. The fighter on the ground however, had his face broken with his eyes swollen shut, his cheeks puffed, and his nose leaking blood out like a faucet. The fighter was still conscious though, so he wasn't a complete loser. Morey was sure that he was strong in his own right, but unfortunately they put the poor guy up against him. Somehow they thought some rookie with some extra weight to throw around would take him on. Idiots…
Morey wasn't even smiling when the announcer was yelling about the next match and kissing his ass. Fighting hadn't been as fun anymore. He hoped this tournament would get him the rush he wanted. Those bullies he beat up for the rat didn't do much for him.
Even if it was still satisfying punching a guy who was getting too big of an ego, that wasn't what he was looking for. He trained so hard to match up with the strongest people he knew. His instructor was still above him in terms of technique, but everyone in the same gym who had the same weight class as him would refuse to fight with him, meaning he probably outclassed them by now. He tried fighting some of the older boxers. It was fun, but without an official referee, he could never go all out. Then again, he has seen how hard his seniors could punch the heavy bag. He did not want to be on the receiving end of that.
That still left him with the dilemma, the lack of good fights. Well there were two more rounds before the finals. There should be at least one decent fighter.
Deciding that overthinking it wasn't worth it, Morey decided to head to the bathroom to wipe himself off. He was already getting bored with the current fight. That's when he met her.
Betty Whurle, a brunette who was passing by the hallways, bumped against Morey Anderson. Their first exchange wasn't anything all that special, but it brought about a change that would affect him for a long time.
"Oh, sorry," he said distractedly.
The girl was clearly caught off guard with bumping into him. But it wasn't for the reason Morey thought before. "Oh! It's you!" She spouted.
Morey looked at her quizzically, she was wearing a green unzipped tracksuit that exposed a t-shirt that said PAIN in big bold letters, atop of her head was a cap that matched the color scheme of her tracksuit, a long ponytail sticking out from the back. His stare must have been intense because it immediately caused her to blush and begin frantically explaining herself.
"I-it's not like I was stalking you or anything, it's just that in your fights…" she straightened herself up, " Your fight, it was amazing. Not only were you on top of your forms but you fought like a monster!" she paused to look around the hallways, she then leaned in closer to Morey, he could feel her breath on his ears, "Between you and me, you seem to be one of the few who knows how a good fight should go."
That got him to stiffen up, she was a weird girl, but he decided to humor her and responded, "Yeah well, I feel like I don't really have good fights anymore."
She laughed, "Oho! You gonna retire so early?"
This time Morey chuckled, "Not until I find a good opponent."
"What'll you do if you find your soulmate?" she asked cheekily.
"Probably act like a clingy girlfriend and never let them go," Morey retorted.
This time she snickered, much quieter than before, "You're really that desperate for a good fight? You sound pretty confident."
"I would say I'm pretty cocky, but I think at this point I'm just undermining myself trying to find a good opponent. Haven't really found a good match for myself," he sighed.
She leaned towards him again and whispered, "Don't give up yet, you'll find what you're looking for," She leant back and winked at him, "Don't worry! The real fun'll begin soon!" she called out as she walked away.
Morey watched her disappear to the crowd, wondering what that was about. She was definitely different from the average girl, then again girls aren't really keen on watching guys beat each other up. Maybe she came with her boyfriend, but then again, she would have been talking badly about him, that is unless her boyfriend is one of his next opponents.
If that was true, that would suck, She seemed nice. He wasn't sure how she would feel if he fought her boyfriend. Hopefully he'll put up a fight.
Morey stuck his arms in his jacket pocket and walked to the bathroom, thinking it wasn't really worth overthinking, only to stop, and feel around his pockets and find a piece of paper. He pulled it out and looked it over.
It was a little post-it note that was folded up into a tiny square. When Morey unfolded it, he saw a message written there saying "Call me! I'd love to chat!" with a little heart drawn next to it. Underneath all of that was a phone number.
It was obviously a joke, he just met her there was no way she would just give him her number.
Right?
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Morey turned around and saw William walking up to him with a crate full of fruits and vegetables. Each crate, which was the size of his torso, held up with ease.
"You ready?" William grinned.
"What is all that?" Morey asked.
"Just some provision for when we train here!" William explained, as he set each crate on the side. He walked over and tapped on the walls. Before Morey could ask what he was doing, one of the walls opened up, there were beds set inside.
"Ah! Here we go!" William cheered. He set the crates in one room, then went on to tap against the walls again, only for another section to open up and for William to do the same. "These will be our rooms!"
"Isn't it inconvenient to have the rooms set up right next to the stadium?" Morey asked.
"Ah, well...those are late design choices," William said uneasily.
"How late?" Morey probed.
"Very late! Now let's get started!" William shouted evasively as he dragged Morey back to the locker rooms.
"You still owe me an explanation!" Morey shouted as he was dragged back inside. Once they reached the locker rooms, Morey noticed all the weapons scattered around were made of wood, iron, silver, copper, gold, and even diamond.
"Whoa, what the hell?" Morey said, surprised at the material most of the weapons were made out of. "What is up with these," he said as he tried, and failed miserably, to pick up a halberd made out of the precious blue crystal. "Why are they so heavy?" He grunted.
"It's like I said!" William laughed, "You're still not ready to pick up those weapons! Try that iron axe there!"
Morey went over to a rusted axe that was set next to the lockers, it was one of the smaller weapons there compared to the swords and hammers that were scattered around, a small handle and smaller blade, yet despite its rusted sides, it still looked very sharp.. He managed to lift it up, but was surprised how heavy it was. Compared to his saber that he made when they came here, the axe was definitely heavier and harder to swing around accurately.
"What!?" Morey barked, "What is up with that item?"
"Nothing!" William reassured, "It's something that all seekers have to understand. The difficulty of using a weapon isn't on its weight or size, but instead its material!"
"The material? Why? Wouldn't it make more sense, for the size affects its weight more?" Morey asked.
"It does!" William answered, "But the material causes a much larger change than the size of a weapon! Don't be discouraged! We can start with that simple stone saber you had!"
"That old thing? Hell no!" Morey yelled, "It's terrible and it's on the verge of breaking!"
"Now, now. Never insult your own creations," William lectured, his voice uncharacteristically low, "They were made by the materials you obtained yourself, and crafted by your own hands. It was your first weapon and currently the only one you can wield well. Even if it is crude, it is your starting point into more amazing possibilities! Not to mention, you can refine it," he added.
That got Morey's attention. "Really?" he asked, "How?"
William pulled out a pickaxe.
After a couple of hours mining in a cave near the coliseum they came back with various goods. Morey was mostly carrying stone that they collected from the caves, along in the large sack was some meat they got from unfortunate animals that crossed their path. Once again, Morey looked exhausted, since this time they did not light up the cave well. So on the way back there was an infestation of monsters on the way back.
It wasn't just the average zombies either, the big teeth, 3 eyed bastards were back with a vengeance. Along with that they also brought a couple of friends as well. Ghastly creatures stuck in petrified screams floating around holding an eyeball on each hand were also there to join in on the fun.
Worst of all, William couldn't fight at full force, since he left his golden sword, or as Morey learned he dubbed it: his lucky blade back at the coliseum. It apparently "slipped his mind." Which left Morey having to fight with his chipped blade, while William was forced to craft a stone weapon as well. A Halberd.
Ironically enough, even the stone blade William made was perfect. No chips and completely smooth. Of course...
Morey attempted to fight off the eyeball freaks, but the green bastards were already a handful, and the big teeth freaks were floating around snapping their jaws at him. Thankfully this time he wasn't helpless. Even just swinging his blade was enough to keep them at bay. But it wasn't enough. He had to go faster, but the saber was beginning to weigh on him.
Then William came swinging.
Unlike with his golden blade, where a simple swing of his sword was enough to slice up the enemies, William was going all out with the stone weapon he had, swinging it around like a madman. Gusts of wind were blowing around him as he swung, blowing many of the creatures back. He screams somehow managed to even get the flying abominations to hesitate in attacking him. He was the monster to them.
Seeing William fight them gave Morey new vigor, allowing him to keep pushing forward. With William blowing many of the monsters back, Morey would swoop in and slice them in where he would consider to be vital areas. For the zombies, he aimed for their necks, for the floaty guys, he went for the eyes. No wasted movement, go for the vitals. Don't overreach. Keep your hands up. Those were the principles for any fight. The saber was light, but it was still a test of endurance.
Morey didn't remember how long they fought for, all he remember was William yelling something about a new toy, Morey running to a table, his sword coming out less terrible, and returning to the fight, and getting to the coliseum when the moon was shining high up in the night sky.
This time, both were worse for wear. Well, for William he seemed more tired than hurt. He still had his toothy grin on him when they got back. As for Morey, he just wished for the day to finally be over. That was until the old bastard led him to the locker rooms again. There around the corner was an anvil with a slab of white stone, and black stone underneath as support for everything.
"What now?" Morey fumed.
"Now! Now! Didn't you want to reforge your weapon?" William laughed.
"Can't this wait till tomorrow?" The young boy barked, "In case you didn't know. I'm exhausted!"
"Ah well...I guess you can find out how the reforging station works on your own tomorrow!" William laughed.
"Ugh! Fine!" Morey shouted, "Show me!"
"Ok," William boomed enthusiastically as he picked up a rusty iron axe off the ground, "Here we go!"
He then put the axe atop the forge, where a soft glow rose from the anvil and slowly spread towards the white tiles above it. Once the top was glowing, only the metal part of the axe glowed instead of the entire tool like Morey expected.
Once it began to glow William placed the small block of metal ingot on top of the tool. Once the two objects connected, his hand began to glow, melting the iron on top of the rusted axe. Once the material merged with the axe the older man began to shape it again, this time smoothing the sides over with his fingers as if he was molding clay. He then held up the tool so that the sharp part was pointing upward, using only two of his fingers, and he began sharpening the tool by slowly pinching it repeatedly taking out any excessive material.
It was a slow and meticulous process, but once it was done, a brand new shiny axe was formed. Not only that but it seemed to give an air of gracefulness to it. It was better than new.
"Woah," Was all Morey was able to sputter.
"Haha! Now are you glad we stayed up a bit for this lesson!" William shouted with his usual eagerness, showing off the axe in his hands by lightly swinging it.
"Can you do that with any weapon?" Morey asked as he inspected the forge, placing his hand over it. He looked over to his chipped saber, and then to William's stone halberd. He really needed to get better with his weapons.
"Of course! With the correct materials you can continuously work on it!" William beamed.
"Welp, I know what I'm going to do tonight," Morey sighed as he put his weapon on the forge.
"Ah! Well then, I'll head to bed!" William said as he quickly walked out the room. "Ah yes, Morey!" He shouted as he poked his head back in, "Don't forget to close the gate! the lever is near the entrances ok?" William explained.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Morey said dismissively as he held a shard of stone over his saber, trying to find an angle to place it.
"You sure?" William chuckled, if Morey was paying attention he would've noticed William's stifling a laugh, "Well then! I won't keep you!"
The night went on with Morey working on the forge with only a torch nearby as light, the rest of the coliseum was dark. Unfortunately, in the darkness was also a lot of activity, mostly the shuffling of zombies that had entered the building, that Morey failed to notice, since he was too busy trying to imitate what William was doing.
"Damn how the hell does he do it?" he growled as he saw no improvements to his blade. How did he make it...better?
Wait, he used his fingers on the axe! Not a sword! Sword was bigger. Also the soft material was really off putting in creating a deadly weapon, since it was, well... soft. But having the mentality of clay really helped. But it still wasn't what he was looking for.
Hearing all the noise outside was also really starting to get to Morey. It was constantly coming out chipped or cracked, and the noise only made it harder for him to concentrate.
In his anger he went to go outside to see what the commotion was in the hallways only to come face to face with a small horde of zombies and skeletons. He looked over the open gate, then back to the zombies. Time stood still for a moment, until Morey slammed the door shut. That caused all the zombies to crash into the door. He knew the door wouldn't hold, and his crappy blade was not going to do well against the horde. He had to fix his blade now!
He began to frantically work on the blade while cursing to himself, he needed it to not be terrible for fuck sakes! The slams to the door were getting more frequent, and the rusty door was not going to hold. He could already hear the bolts snapping. He had to work fast. He had to work faster! Faster!
Right?
He stopped, and looked at his pitiful blade. It was pathetic, just like him. He thought he could make it out there, but now he was wondering if that was really true. He had to rely on William for everything that had to do with survival. Food, weapons, and fighting were mainly done by him. He couldn't go on like this. What was he going to do?
"I needed help," Morey thought out loud while the door began to slowly break open, "I need help…"
'I gotta thank William for all that he's done….' Now that was a weird thought. But how can he thank him? He can't even fix is stupid sword, he had to work….slower! He's gotta slow down! But how did he do that when the horde was seconds from breaking the door open. No, he had one chance to fix his blade. He had to work efficiently, not fast.
Morey slowly began working on the blade again, this time taking his time. He tuned out the noises from the outside. This was not like fighting, he had to be careful. He felt pissed. He felt like shit. He felt like he did all those years ago, but he couldn't let that distract him, put those feelings out through the fists, or in this case, the blade.
When the glow went down, his saber looked much newer, the top part shrunk a bit, but the thing that caught Morey's eye was how jagged it was. The blade looked like it had teeths, not in a bad way. It looked new, but vicious.
Perfect.