A few days passed before i reached City YY, but not because it took that long but because I had found to good of prey, the number of Goolets, and Gruntlings in the area was tremendous so a good culling was in order and now that I was not sharing my gained experience, my personal levelling was back to the way it should be from the beginning.
My more basic jobs started to rise as they would while the moderate and advanced jobs grew at an increased albeit slower pace.
When I arrived at the city my options were limited, I was to young to join the explorers guild, didn't have the level requirement to become and adventurer.
So my options then were to become someone's ward, apprentice, or turn to crime.
But my skills were aimed towards combat so rather brazenly I left the commercial district behind and instead headed for the military district.
Was I joining the army?
No no no.
But what I was after was also located in this district.
And there in the distance as I travelled along the stone roadway I saw my destination
A grand stone building shaped like a giant circle.
That's right I was headed for the Arena, otherwise known to some as the colliseum.
Since I had undergone the rite, I had the power to decide my own fate.
And so getting the chance to fight to hone my skills and earn sums while doing it was the best option I could at least until I aged up and could join the explorers ranks and undergo dungeon exploration.
But before I entered, I found a deserted alleyway first, and cast [Reset] on myself.
[Carter]
Job: Warrior 20 | Swordsman 30 | Hero 9 | Senior Villager 30 | Thief 28
Special Points: 1
Ability: [Reset] | Appraisal | 5th Job | Exp x20 | 1/20 Exp | Critical Chance Up 15% | Sword 3 | Accessory 2 | Helm 2 | Shield 2 | Curaiss 2 | Arms 2 | Feet 2 | Chant Removal |
Using my reset of transformed myself from the orphan boy seen by many into a legendary warrior decked out in gear everyone would drool over, even elevating my blade from Arondight to Balmung (Rank 3)
I had overall dropped the number of jobs I had as well, since i'd found the low rank jobs had a level cap of fifty and while I had yet to reach that same number with a mid or advanced rank job I believed their cap was higher meaning an overall larger number of points.
Even still after casting off three jobs I honestly didn't feel all that much weaker, their provided bonuses were small or meager after all so it makes sense considering Hero gave a Large boost, while Warrior and Swordsman gave Moderate boosts.
With my new build setup and wearing my new armor, I advanced as a combatant towards my newest home.
As I entered the arena hall I was quickly called out to.
"Oh you there boy!"
"Yes?"
"Here to register for the fights?"
"That's right, i'd like to sign up for death matches, though with conditions of course."
"Guh! D-death matches you say, alright please come this way we can go to a private room to discuss."
The man behind the counter left his post only to be replace by another man, meanwhile a door opened allowing me to go behind the desk and being led to a private room to negotiate my fighting contract.
Click after the door was closed and I still armored sat on the chair provided which struggled to retain it's form under my new weight.
"Alright so you wished to sign up for death matches was it?"
"Yes that right, though I have conditions."
"Ok, one second."
The employee quickly pulled out some parchment and an inkwell before having his quill dance across the page.
Seeing the employee was waiting for my own words I began listing my conditions.
"First, I only wish to face willing combatants, I don't mind fighting slaves but not ones ordered to do so wishing to live, if the master can force the slave to answer truthfully their own intent to fight me to the death I'll agree."
"Fair enough, we get that request quite often so no issue there."
"Second, I'll give a winner takes all to my matches."
This conditions caused the employee's eyebrow to raise, this condition was also one he'd heard of before, but it was usually by those who were just starting out and desperately needed gear to keep on fighting but the young man before him was wearing expensive looking armor so he must be looking for strong opponents with which to face off against, or those hungry enough to think it an easy win to get strong gear of his corpse.
"And lastly, I wish to live within the pits since I'm new to the city and have no where else to go for now."
The employee's scribbles captured everything before adding in the arena's own terms and conditions before heading the parchment roll over to me to look it over.
Thankfully it was int he language I could read, probably done so since I had only ever spoken what I was speaking now.
Once confirming that my three conditions were within, and the rates for which my own fights would net me, I received the quill and signed my name before removing one of my gauntlets and pricking it before sealing a thumbprint of blood over the signature as I was instructed by the employee to do.
This was a magical effect by the god of contracts binding me and the arena as a whole to it's contents so long as I was 'employed'.
Afterwards I was led to the stairwell leading down into the pits where onsite gladiators could live, it wasn't much better than willingly living in a prison cell but for a penniless orphan this was the greatest abode I could hope for, free room and board so long as I fought and won my next fight that is.