Starlight Necromancer

Foster stood in the waiting room, ready to enter the 'Intermediate' combat tournament. Luckily, his attribute levels were perfectly at a point where he could either go to the Beginner or the Intermediate tournaments, and the choice was left up to his own discretion. The employee tried to stop Foster from entering the intermediate tournament, but he really didn't care about what he thought.

He knew that these attributes weren't everything that went into a fight. And while many would think that all there was to a fight was to actively beat others up, Foster knew that the fight had already started now that they were here in the waiting room, just about to enter the arena.

Foster was looking around at the other people, judging their actual ability. Just their bodies weren't anything to particulary look at, of course. There were plenty of people that were superior to him just from a raw, physical standpoint, that would never be able to even dream of beating him in a fight. There were a few people that he figured he should pay particular attention to, for different reasons.

Some that he had to be careful around, and others that he should try and beat through straight-up tactics. At the same time, he did everything he could to make sure he didn't somehow become someone else's target, like that one kid from earlier, who was in this group as well, rather surprisingly. The same thugs that were bothering her earlier were still stuck to her, while she was trying her best not to take notice of them.

That kid seemed to fight using knives, or at least she had two of them placed on her hips. She seemed rather collected, although those thugs were still clearly getting to her. As far as Foster was concerned... She would probably end up dropping out of this fight quite soon. While he knew that there was more than size to these fights, she would have a handful of huge guys gang up on her the moment the fight started. And since this was a mixed-style tournament, they were able to use any weapon they wanted to... Clearly, she was at an extreme disadvantage.

But on the other hand, it would give Foster enough time to gather the points he needed to move on. Of course, while he didn't join this thing to win, he still didn't feel like having to drop out this early on in a tournament such as this. It was a matter of pride to him, at this point. And for that, he needed some form of tactics.

By the time that the large gate into the actual arena opened up, he managed to get some rough clues for how he should act in regard to the tougher opponents. As for the ones that seemed weaker... He just ignored them, for the most part. All of the participants made their way into the arena, and stood there in random configurations. Basically, everyone tried to be as close as possible to the ones they wanted to fight first.

There were two or three out of the 50 or so participants that seemed like they had set their sight on Foster, and he was planning on energetically answering their will to fight him. The announcer counted down from ten, and nobody was allowed to take a single step during this time.

Three, everyone slowly prepared to slide into their combat stances.

Two, their grip on their weapons' handles became more intense.

One, with as much force as their bodies could spare for this, they began to set themselves into motion.

And zero, the fight started as a loud bell was rung at the top of the arena. Out of the three people that showed clear interest in Foster, two attacked him immediately. One swordsman, one martial arist. Their movements were... rough, to say the least. And not even in Foster's way of 'rough'. He was still able to control his body however he wanted, but these guys seemed absolutely shakey.

Foster's body entered the basic combat stance immediately, and he twisted his body around. The martial artist was the first to reach him. He was clearly quite young and inexperienced. He tried to jump at Foster for some reason, quite literally leaping into the air in front of him. However, since that was the case, all that needed to be done was for Foster to slide his front foot forward while shifting his weight and imbuing his hand with the Single Strike martial skill.

Of course, Foster asked to make sure that these were allowed... multiple times before he even officially entered this tournament. Otherwise, it would have been useless to enter this. He entered here so that he could test himself against other people in the first place.

Either way, the martial artist that wasn't able to dodge in the middle of the air was soon hit in the center of his chest by Foster's gauntlet-covered fist. A loud bang sounded out, as one of the first impacts within this part of the tournament.

The martial artist was pushed away and fell onto his back, while Foster rushed forward as he dodged the swordsman that also targeted him. He reached the martial artist that just fell down, and pressed his left foot into the ground. With the momentum he built up, Foster kicked the side of this guy's torso. He flew meters away immediately.

While he knew that his attributes had increased, and according to Lynol and Octer, things like skills and attributes really did affect one's actually physical body, Foster did not have the chance to discover his new physical capabilities yet. But now that he did this... he realized that he was certainly a lot stronger than before. From one moment to another, he became a lot stronger than before. If this was the power of leveling up... He really couldn't wait for that to keep on happening.

With a grin on his face, Foster twisted his body around and swung his fist forward once more, this time at the swordsman that followed him. Because he didn't seem to expect Foster to attack so suddenly, he could only press his sword in frront of his body, defending against the punch with the flat side of his blade.

The metal of Foster's gauntlets hit against the metal of this swordsman's blade. A loud clang rang out, and the swordsman was pushed back a few steps. While he didn't fall over, his arm was pushed to the side, and the sword wasn't fully held in front of his body anymore. So, Foster swung his other fist at him, once more hitting the blade. Just this time, on purpose.

Once again, the swordsman was pushed back a few steps, albeit a bit further this time. And just like before, his arm swung slightly to the side. And Foster began to hit the flat side of the blade again and again, continuously pushing the swordsman further away from where they started. Foster pushed him through the crowd, until the swordsman bumped into some people.

He turned his head around just so slightly, which was the exact moment that Foster went for a bit of a finisher. He pushed his hand toward the swordsman's head and grabbed his hair, before pulling this guy toward himself. While he fell forward, Foster pushed his strengthened fist into the core of his body, and the air was pushed out of the swordsman's lungs.

He keeled over as Foster couldn't help himself but grin, kicking him away into a group of other people.

Of course, in any other situation, Foster would have been a bit more... subtle. A bit kinder to people that he didn't even know. But why should he worry about this sort of thing right now?

After all, before he entered the tournament, he was ensured that everyone that needed or wanted it, could receive access to a skilled healer.

So there was no need for Foster to worry about going all-out against another person for the first time in a while.

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