Dimensions Collide: Destiny Bond Chapter 132: The Ring

Chapter 132: The Ring

John didn’t move to the third floor imdiately. Instead, he returned to Scholaris, where he’d remain for another day.

This decision had been the result of a minor argunt with Prota. The issue was that she had a tutoring session with Sofya. On one hand, she wanted to go. After all, it was the most learning she’d done in a long while. Leora’s lessons were useful, but they were nowhere near as effective as the dragon’s teachings.

On the other hand, though, she wanted to stick with John. After seeing how reckless he’d been in the casino, she had no doubt that sothing would go wrong if she weren’t there. She still didn’t really get what he was planning, and while she trusted that his plan would be good, she also doubted that he had a plan in the first place.

Thus, her role as a protector ca first. She’d approached John to let him know she’d be skipping her tutoring session.

“What? You can’t do that,” John frowned.

Prota shook her head. “I have to go with John.”

“Huh? No, you don’t. What are you talking about?”

“No. I go with John.”

“But your-”

“No.”

That was the extent of their argunt. It had only ended because John didn’t feel like escalating it. Besides, he felt no need to push it any further. He needed a day to think, anyway.

He wasn’t sure what would happen next. While gambling would definitely help repay the debt, there was no way the [Author] would just let him gamble his way to riches. That was too boring. There had to be so action. So suspense. Sothing at stake, sothing that made it possible to lose. If he just won all the money through completely ordinary ans, then this whole thing would have little entertainnt value.

This was also why he’d been acting so stupid at the casino. He preferred to have his options open. Playing the fool was almost always better than playing the king, especially when you were as weak as John. Hopefully, they weren’t paying too much attention to him. He especially needed to have eyes off his back when he started winning large sums of money.

The only problem was, how would he go about doing that?

~~~

“Hey, where’s Destiny?”

The question ca up during lunch when John noticed that Destiny hadn’t been in any of his classes. While he could often be found skipping classes, it was unusual for the hero to miss even a single one. For him to be gone all day could only an one thing.

“Don’t know,” Danjo shrugged. “He said he had sothing to do a couple days ago, and he hasn’t been here since.”

“Sothing to do… did you ask what?” John frowned.

This ti, it was Arthur who responded.

“He didn’t say. I an, I suppose we could’ve asked, but… he looked like it was sothing he didn’t want to talk about. So, well…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” John nodded, ending the conversation.

He had an inkling as to where he was, anyway. The only question was, how? Or maybe the better question was, why? This was definitely part of the [Plot]. If it involved Briar, it had to be. But just what had gotten Destiny involved?

Once again, he was uncomfortable with how little he knew. He was reminded of Lupin, and that led to the cultists again. Were they involved in this? Or was this just an entire side plot purely for the sake of developing Briar’s character?

Either way, he was in too far to stop now. He had a whole day of offti to plan, sothing he hadn’t been expecting. If he was going to get a break, it should’ve been after so kind of hard-fought battle or devastating loss, not on the third day of progress, where barely anything had happened.

He sorely wished the internet existed in this world. At least he would’ve had a way to research the place he was looking into. Now, he had nothing.

“Damn,” he muttered, digging into his food. “What now?”

~~~

Prota stood in the middle of the training grounds. Sofya stood on the balcony, watching from above.

“So, let’s see those spells you learned.”

Prota nodded, concentrating on the target dummy in front of her. It soon started to gather frost, its colours paling as it began to freeze from the inside out. The dragon hopped down from her spot and knocked on the thing, sending it tipping over. As soon as it hit the ground, it shattered, splintering into a dozen pieces.

“Impressive. To think you’d find a way to lower the temperature of a certain space… ingenious. And the other spell?”

Prota nodded again, concentrating her mana. Now that she understood the nature of her spells, she no longer needed the Tenth Seda to start them up. She could simply cast them with a bit of effort.

Like her other self-made spells, they took a while to cast. Half a minute at best, and two minutes under more stressful situations. Still, she was improving. At the very least, her skill ceiling had once again gone up. The more she improved, the more she could cast spells like Blossom of Ice and Frozen Fla, and being able to use those spells the way she used first-circle spells would surely be a benefit.

The plasma disk sliced through another target dummy, imdiately vaporizing whatever it ca in contact with, cleanly slicing it in two.

“Hm… interesting. And you say this was a result of you trying to cast the Tenth Seda?” Sofya said slowly.

Prota nodded.

“And yet they’re still sowhat impractical… Prota, have you ever heard of a Final Stand?”

Prota’s eyes went wide, but she managed to nod. Why was that being brought up?

“Technically speaking, it is possible for beings like us to cast more than one Final Stand. By absorbing a soul, it is possible to generate enough mana to expel such a spell. However, that was not the purpose of this conversation. Have you considered… well, brute force?”

She tilted her head in confusion. Brute force? What did Sofya an by that?

“As far as I can tell, your spells have all been the result of stressful situations. However, what happens when you can no longer do such a thing? What if you don’t learn sothing in ti? You need a spell that can substitute as a Final Stand, Prota, sothing you can use in the event of an ergency.”

Sothing felt like it ought to click. Final Stands. A final hurrah. A panic attack. What was Sofya getting at, though?

“Many of the students in this school have learned so kind of spell that exhausts all of their mana in one go. This is typically reserved for later years, but I believe you have the ans to learn it now. You are familiar with exhausting your core as a result of using mana recovery multiple tis, are you not?”

Prota nodded.

“Then you simply need to recreate that feeling for offensive purposes. Now, I am not saying that brute force is what you should instinctively turn to. Your current fighting style is not a bad one. Perhaps an example is in order.”

Sofya dropped down from the balcony, then summoned two balls of water and compressed one of them, forming it into a thin needle. She threw both at a target dummy, and while the ball simply splashed onto the target, knocking it back a little, the needle pierced right through.

“As you can see, precision usually triumphs. However, the downside is that it takes ti to refine things. So, if you were to use far more mana-”

A giant ball of water ford, and it flew forward, absolutely drenching the dummy and knocking it flat.

“Then you could achieve similar results. You primarily use fire and ice. Have you considered… just, well, an onslaught of spells?”

Prota’s eyes widened. No. She hadn’t. She’d never really tried anything more than a small barrage of fireballs and icicles.

“I cannot tell you what your next steps are, but it seems you have an inkling as to what it is you need to do. Just rember. Sotis, speed is more important than efficiency. Sotis, you just need to act.”

Hadn’t John said sothing similar a while back?

You’re thinking too much.

This story originates from . Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

She’d co full circle. She used to think about every spell she cast. Then, John had taught her how to fight without thinking about any of her spells. Every ntor she’d had taught precision, taught refinent, but now, she needed to do the opposite.

And now, she needed to do the opposite.

“And… should you accomplish this in battle, who knows?” Sofya smiled. “You may unlock the next step to creating an even more powerful spell. I wish you luck.”

The dragon left, the lesson now over, but Prota didn’t care. Excitent filled her eyes as she began to practice once more.

~~~

“A fight club?”

John frowned as he made his way to the third floor. Prota wasn’t too far behind, but she’d been a little distracted, causing her to bump into him as he stopped, staring in awe.

The most exclusive floor of the casino was completely unlike the other two floors. Fancy carpets. Red velvet curtains, gold-lined wallpaper, chandeliers of pure crystal hanging from the ceiling, expensive drinks served in cups studded with jewels—it was almost like the definition of luxury itself. He suddenly felt out of place in his hoodie, although he had no intentions of changing.

However, all this was not what had surprised him. It was the portal room. To the side, there were three portals. This was so ridiculous that John actually stopped and stared out of pure shock. These things were supposed to be incredibly expensive to create and maintain. To top things off, the portals were free of charge, and each led to a different location. One led to a stage, where patrons could pay to watch musical and theatrical performances. Another led to so kind of race track, presumably for the sake of gambling.

But the last portal led to sothing known as the “fight club.”

“Sorry, but… what is that?” John said to the attendant, pointing at the sign.

“Ah, the fight club. This one is rather new. Free to enter, free to participate! Watch the fights happen, or bet on them as you will! The Hackpino Fight Club. Enter at your own risk.”

John nodded slowly, staring at it with wide eyes. The description had felt like an old, corny advertisent, but if this thing was truly what was as advertised…

“John,” Prota warned quietly.

Her warning seed to bring him back to his senses. He nodded at the attendant politely, backing off and heading further into the casino. Still, his mind was filled with thoughts of the fight club.

There was an easy way to win money there. He had a strategy in mind. There was just a small problem.

As of the mont, he didn’t have the funds to go all in. His thod would only work with one bet, and it would be useless after that. That would an in his current state, he’d need a payout of over twenty tis to get what he wanted. After all, he didn’t just want to pay off the old dwarf’s debt. His original purpose still remained: to pocket so extra cash for himself. No, if he wanted to use this thod, his assets needed to be greater than what they currently were.

He’d been trying to stay low-key for a while, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay under the radar forever. Eventually, he’d have to make a lot of money, and when that happened, he’d be monitored constantly. Ideally, this one mont would be the mont he made enough to leave the casino for good.

Then, the plan was finalized. He had to find a way to make one lump sum of money all at once.

“John,” Prota said quietly as he pulled at so more slot machines, still only betting one gold coin at a ti. “What is your plan?”

She trusted him. Sure, she’d sotis doubt his rationality or effort, but she had no doubt that, should he have a plan, it would be a good one. It was just that she wanted to know what he was doing.

She wasn’t the little girl who needed helping. She didn’t need to be nurtured back to health, she didn’t need to learn how to fight, she didn’t need to learn how to co to terms with herself. Prota had grown. And with that ca a sort of curiosity. A feeling that you could contribute, a feeling that your voice mattered.

She wanted to help. While she didn’t mind being John’s sword and shield, she also wanted to be more than that.

[Wait until we’re outside. I don’t wanna say it in here.]

Prota’s eyes widened.

[Promise?]

[Yeah. Let finish up here. I can’t leave too early, that’d look suspicious.]

She nodded, sitting on an empty chair beside him, watching the wheels spin over and over.

This was like a puzzle. A mystery, the mystery of John’s plan. She could figure it out. While John had said multiple tis that he didn’t want her thinking in terms of [Story], that didn’t an she couldn’t think at all.

Yes, the [Story] perspective provided insight nobody else could have, but on the other hand, it still required so intelligence to decipher what would happen next. John had called this “literary comprehension” at so point, but that didn’t matter. The skill of putting two and two together was sothing Prota could do right now.

So, while the wheels spun, so did Prota’s mind. Slowly, gradually, she began to piece things together. A lot of her thought process ca from what she knew about John. Hotheaded and irrational in matters he knew were under his control, and reluctant when they weren’t. Lazy, yet thorough enough that there would be no room for permanent consequences. Soone who understood he was weak, soone who went in assuming the worst possible situation while hoping for the best. He was also soone who would take the shortest path possible given the opportunity.

She didn’t even notice the minutes passing as she remained deep in thought. She began to pull at her hair, sothing John also regularly did, combing through it with her fingers over and over.

Soon, she was close to reaching John’s thought process. There were a few holes, a few inconsistencies, but she’d done it.

The way John thought. She was slowly beginning to replicate it. While she didn’t incorporate the viewpoint of the [Story], like he wanted, the idea of taking every elent you were aware of to piece together a reasonable outco was sothing she was learning how to do.

And now that she had an idea of what his plan was, she began to co up with so ideas of her own.

“Alright,” John muttered, picking up his winnings. He was up a total of three gold coins today. “Let’s head out.”

They stopped by the front desk, cashing out before heading over to the portal hub. They stayed silent the whole walk back, but as soon as they went back to their room, Prota stopped to face her brother.

“John,” she said, eyes letting him know that she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Damn,” he grimaced. “Well, I an, it’s not like there’s a reason to hide it from you. It’s just a pain in the ass. Well-”

“No.” She sat on her bed, still facing John. “I want to guess.”

“You want to-” John’s eyes shot up in surprise. “I an, sure. Go ahead.”

He fell onto his own bed, looking at his sister with a mix of curiosity and interest. She’d never done anything like this before. He was excited. How close would she get?

“John wants to be careful because the bad guys might notice him. Noticing ans… um… fighting too well, or winning too much money. Right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes wide.

He was impressed. It wasn’t like this was the hardest thing to guess, but given that she wasn’t used to being the one who planned everything, it was nice to see her thought process developing so well.

“John wants to win money using the fight club.”

She watched in satisfaction as John raised his eyes in surprise once more. She was figuring it out.

“But John can only do that once. Because once we win, we will be strong. Right?”

“Wha- hold on, how’d you figure the last part out?” John frowned.

Prota’s eyes smiled. “You said a long ti ago. You are “weak.” But I know you are strong. So if other people see or you fight, they will know we are strong. Right?”

Sothing that far back. She still rembered it? Damn.

“Uh- alright, yeah,” John said, still stunned. He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s basically it. I’m just trying to win a little more money using slots, just a couple of coins here and there, and then once I’m around… say, a hundred fifty coins? One of us goes into the ring and we bet on us. I’m sure there are enough rich idiots to give a solid eight-to-one payout. Then we cash out, give the old guy his thousand, and then we’ll be good with another two hundred or so.”

Prota shook her head.

“Too easy,” she said quietly.

“Too- what?”

“Too easy. Sothing always goes wrong.”

John opened his mouth to retort but found no logical argunt to use. She was right. He’d grown complacent. He’d assud that, because this was just so small, minor side plot, that nothing major would happen. That nothing weird would go on. But that was always a possibility. Doctor had taught him this lesson, but he apparently hadn’t learned it well.

In [Stories], sothing always had to go wrong, right? That was part of the reason why he hated these worlds so much.

“You- you’re right,” John said, nodding slowly. “Then… then what?”

Prota just stared at him. After a few seconds, she shrugged.

“John told not to use the [Story].”

“I- yeah, that’s right. Ok, my turn.”

He frowned, but at the mont, he couldn’t really figure anything out. He just didn’t have enough information. However, this was enough. Prota had another tutoring session tomorrow, and that gave him ti to ponder the million-dollar question. Or, in this case, the thousand gold coin question.

And then on Friday, they’d go see the ring for themselves.

~~~

Sounds of yelling, cheering, cursing and everything in between could be heard as the crowded arena watched the elf and the human go at it in the caged platform in the middle of the room. There was a crack as the elf landed a hard hit on the human’s jaw, and the man went limp. An attendant in a black suit walked into to carry the unconscious man out, and the elf raised his hands in victory as the arena went wild.

In the back, a new hire and a more experienced employee stood, watching the events unfold.

“All right, janitor boy! This is the ring. The boss decided you could use a promotion. You’ll be cleaning up in here, but you’ll also be stopping anything that gets… well, a little rowdy. You understand, right?”

Destiny nodded as he watched a dwarf walk onto the stage to mop the blood off the clean white floor.

“We have many, ah, incidents. You know? So idiots co back for revenge, so rich punks get mad they lost their money betting on the wrong fighter, stuff like that. It’s your job to watch out for those fools.”

There was so kind of speaker system blaring out the announcer’s voice, prepping the audience for the next round of fights. Destiny had just been in the theatre house. Compared to that place, this was a dump. Roughly cut tal seats. Harsh white lighting. Chipped paint, worn-down walls, and not a single person of status…

“I understand,” he nodded, tugging at the gloves that were now part of his uniform. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Good to hear. It’s not every day we get a talented young mber like you. Keep up the good work.”

The dwarf grinned, patting his junior on the back before heading back through the portal. Although he could’ve left, Destiny chose to stay, watching the fights from the shadows. He was curious. Just how good were these fighters?

As it turned out, very. Very, very good. He hadn’t really seen anyone fight like this before. Their movents were sloppy. Their technique, unrefined. He could see multiple instances where their guard would drop, where a better blow would’ve done more damage, where a sidestep would’ve benefited the fighter more than a block. Still, despite all of that, their style felt overwhelming.

It was as if they’d been born fighting out of the womb. Every movent, every breath, it was all to get another blow, to last just a second longer, and that sheer resilience was what made them so strong. Their bodies seed to move naturally, like a brutal, ravenous dance. They traded blow after blow, sotis even allowing themselves to be hit in order to hit their opponent just one more ti.

As more and more fights passed through the stage, Destiny saw a pattern. Caster, fighter, it didn’t matter what kind of mage they were. They all had this crazy, brutal style that was completely unlike anything he’d fought—

Wait. No, he’d seen this once before. It was on a completely different scale, but it was familiar. But where? Where had he seen it?

John.

The Cave of Trials. John. He was so open. So relaxed. And yet, when he fought, he fought as if his own life were worth nothing. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that John was, in fact, where he’d experienced this rough and crude fighting style.

Now that John had mana, how would he fare in this ring? Would he match up? Or would he lose? Maybe his inexperience with the supernatural energy would hold him back.

Or maybe it wouldn’t.

Destiny didn’t know. Still, if he closed his eyes, he could see John on that stage, fighting for his life. Maybe for entertainnt, maybe for sothing bigger. Regardless, this was a place his friend would fit right in.

But would he survive?

Destiny watched as yet another loser was dragged off the stage.

The answer to his question remained unanswered.