Chereads / This Life, Dedicated to You / Chapter 15 - Behind the Mask

Chapter 15 - Behind the Mask

TW// Mild gore and depictions of gross/disgusting environment

Maybe it was conceited to say he was looking at her. It was more like he was facing the seating area where the patrons were. Based on his posture, it felt like he was smug about his victory as well, hands shoved in his pockets languidly, and she swore she could see a faint smirk on his lips.

It was infuriating.

Magic was something that Callisto, admittedly, had a little bit of trouble getting used to, despite starting magic training almost immediately after coming to this world.

It wasn't that she was in awe, but that she couldn't wrap her head around it, making her annoyed. How did thinking hard conjure enough thermal energy to create a fire? Why did a little bit of magic combined with throwing an object create a devastating force of three thousand PSI? She was the type of person that had to understand the world around her.

Outside of people, of course. Callisto would never understand the intricacies of interpersonal communication.

She had mostly resigned herself to the land of unknowing, chalking it up to the laws of the world, ley lines, and other workings unintelligible to someone who had grown up in a different world altogether.

But when she was faced with a masked man with RGB hair, scintillating the same way a gaming PC would, her brain refused to let it just be simplified to 'magic'.

Callisto didn't cuss often, but this was f*cked up.

Not only did this LED light motherf***er beat her champions, but he also did it looking like a damn flower field. It was a good thing the mask covered his entire face because if she looked into his eyes and saw colors flashing like a nightclub, she would have actually removed part of the armrest.

What kind of magic was this? It was like his facial features were every single type at the same time, yet indescribable.

Every time Callisto blinked, it was like his form changed, and if she looked away, she immediately forgot what he looked like. It was some powerful cloaking magic. Even if the description was at the tip of her tongue, it faltered at the throat.

"Who's guy is that?" The person next to her grumbled, just as miffed about the events.

"He's not on the roster…Who the hell is this guy?"

"Hey, what's with you? You're ruining the show!" Another person from behind her yelled out as well, though it seemed that only the patrons seemed upset.

The rest of the crowd was eating it up. Whoever this person was, he was a showboat for sure. She rattled through her brain for who this mysterious man could possibly be.

It had to be a main character. The magic screamed Dane, but the swordsmanship felt very much like Nox.

While he was fighting, Callisto felt like he was restraining his true abilities. She also wasn't very good at reading people, and at the end of the day, she did pick a couple of mob characters.

Maybe it was just a really strong side character that she didn't even know existed. After all, she didn't pay too much attention to the game. It was mostly her sleeping on her darling boyfriend's lap while he rattled on about things, with the occasional, 'This will be important later.'

That man had no idea how right he was.

"I'm here for her." The winner made a gesture to Callisto, and she arched an eyebrow. Why her? Now the rest of the patrons were looking at her like she was the cause of the problem.

"What do you want from me?" Callisto said slowly. His voice was hard to place, but she was sure she had heard it before.

"A battle from the lady who defeated a master swordsman." The audacity. Ruining her plans for some self-fulfillment beat down.

This had to be Nox. Who else could have heard about her battle with Blake? As far as she knew, the Azel Knights kept it under wraps, since it would have been embarrassing for the next-in-line if anyone found out.

Luka probably told Nox in passing, and now he wants a stab at her. She got up from her chair and jumped from the rafters into the arena.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" People around them chanted, and she wrenched a pipe off of the wall as her weapon as the masked man stood and watched.

"You don't want something a bit sharper?" He gestured to an extra sword, probably taken from one of the many people he had defeated.

Callisto ignored him, and with some effort and magic, snapped the pipe, giving it a jagged edge. There was only one healer on site, and they were busy cleaning up the wounds of the people that didn't die, which included her people. She had time to play around a bit.

The true atmosphere of the illegal fighting grounds hit her only after she left the noble's seating area. The ground smelled like bile and sweat, mixed with the stink of a common folk crowd that didn't know what soap was. It was foul, and she could feel clumps of bloodied sand with every step of her soft leather boots.

She took a deep breath, readying herself. Vomit, sewage, and bad body odor. Add in rotting food and garbage, it would be just like her childhood. How nostalgic.

Several questions still hung in the air about the current events transpiring, but Callisto supposed it could wait. She tossed her cloak off to the side, hiding her figure from view for a few seconds.

When her opponent and the crowd were able to see her again, Callisto was surrounded by a powerful magic aura, visible wisps of purple with a thin layer of frost covering her frame. The temperature dropped several degrees around her, breath visible like the fog set over the Regalia capital in the dead of night.

Her enemy did no preparation, instead simply moving to a fighting stance, a sharp blade poised for battle.

It felt like even the crowd themselves were holding their breath simultaneously, or maybe everything passed through her senses as she focused on the person in front of her.

A nebulous man, with an undefinable appearance, wearing the mask of Thalia to match his theatrics. She recalled telling herself to stop getting into conflict, yet here she was, getting into more conflict.

Callisto took the first step forward, a cold mist trailing behind her, as she launched forward with the first swing.