She upped the tempo of her beats bit by bit. Her steps became harder, faster, more decisive as she expertly danced around the Drogar’s attacks. Eva allowed herself to sink into her dance, to fall into her beat, to allow her trait to guide her blade. Every step and spin and parry and dodge got her
With her blade high in the air, Eva swung it down with incredible power. Her slash tore at the air in front of her and headed straight towards her opponent’s head. But before it could get there, it was stopped by her opponent’s beltknife. Though her opponent was able to parry her decisive blow, he
“I’m guessing that’s a bad thing? I’m not much for games of chance. I prefer to play games that I can influence, that I can control. Much more fun that way.” Gravoss threw his hands in the air and replied with exasperation in his voice. “Of course it’s bad!” he said. “Most fighters climb slowly an
Alevos turned towards her and shrugged slightly. “Just how things are,” he replied. “The lower the odds, the more confidence in the duelist. Absolute winners have fractions of odds. 0.03 to 1, for example. Their payouts are abysmal.” “But we don’t have to get there,” added Szereth. “We can still k
The Ra’ventrii armor hung in the air above a portable NanoRepair Platform, which glowed a light green as it slowly repaired the armor itself. A swarm of nanites flowed around the armor and slowly stitched and restrengthened it back to perfect working condition. Next to it was the Ra’ventrii beltkni
“In the meantime,” added Alevos, “it’s chaos down here. Sponsors with Reborn athletes are making a killing, even despite those ridiculous margins.” “How?” asked Eva. “Usually by selling their athlete’s image,” said Szereth. “Most of their money is made outside of the ring, you know. This is just w
“I agree,” added Miko. “She retains an edge over her opponent in exacting degrees, similar to how we hold an edge to normal humans.” Szereth looked at the both of them oddly - they were talking about themselves as though they were mechanical, or ran on code. “What do you mean ‘on par’?” he asked.
Miko looked intently at the messenger bag right in front of her face. Or, perhaps, it was more accurate to say she was right up on the bag itself. She was so close that she could see just how fine the stitching was along the seams. She drew back as she picked up from the rack in front of her, and s