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Of Arms and Arcane Prologue

Novel: Of Arms and Arcane Author: Samofthepen Updated:
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Now reading: Prologue from Of Arms and Arcane, a Action novel by Samofthepen.

I am fading, the darkness is claiming my vision as I see the fuzzy image of armor clad people gathering around .

I hear the muffled voices of those around pleading with to keep my eyes open and stay awake.

How did I end up on the ground? I am not so sur-.... Wait, the last thing I saw was an axe head coming towards .

Ah, so that's how it is. My noggin got caved in, and for so reason, I cannot feel the rest of my body, in fact, I cannot feel anything. That's one upside I guess.

Is this my end? To die a kissless virgin? I had boundless energy as a child until now and had to expend it sohow, why did I choose martial arts instead of chasing girls? How did I go down this path?

Oh right, I got hooked on shonen ani and manga, and it did not help that my dad brought the family along as he traveled for his work in the Asia region.

To stop from wrecking the house and driving my mum up the wall, my parents decided to focus my energy on martial arts classes, as my family moved to different regions and countries, I went to multiple classes, muay thai, karate, taekwondo, aikido, judo, kendo, wushu, and different styles of kung fu depending on where my family was currently located.

It was a fun ti of my life, eting new people, eating different foods, and learning new martial arts… But it was lonely, even though I could be considered well-traveled, I did not know many people as I was hoschooled, the only people I kind of knew were all my dad’s business friends who ca to visit every now and then.

When I was 18, my parents decided to settle back down in the USA so I could further my education. I was born in the US but I don't rember much, most of my life was spent in Asia and only ca back twice to visit my grandparents.

By this ti, I was sowhat disillusioned with martial arts and only continued as a form of habit and to et new people.

My parents consulted with one of their friends about my future education and with my grades and interests, besides martial arts, I was recomnded to go into chanical Engineering and/or Computer Engineering, my parents pushed for both.

And just like that, I spent 4 soul draining years of my life buried in books, I barely had ti to work out, let alone practice martial arts. I did not even have ti to have the social life I craved while I was getting hoschooled.

But I kept at it, I was close to my parents, so I knew the sacrifices that they had to make to give a good life compared to the people I t in other countries to be able to send to classes, and even this fancy expensive university.

After traveling and eting other people, I realized at an early age how fortunate I was and did not want to disappoint my parents.

And the mont I graduated, I felt free again. But reality hit again, I had to join the workforce.

Ended up at a tech company that designed prosthetics, and finally for the first ti I had a social life.

It was during one of the social gatherings after work, and as we were getting to know each other, was where I got to know Dave, a fellow martial artist.

Dave practiced HEMA, or Historical European Martial Arts. Compared to him, I was raised mainly in Asia and thus, surrounded by Asian martial arts, but now I will have a chance to learn martial arts from the other side of the globe. This reignited my martial spirit and asked Dave if I could join a session to give it a shot.

After a few lessons, I was hooked. The last ti I had this feeling was when my family moved and I got to learn a new martial art.

And as if that was not enough of a ti sink, Dave also got into MMA saying that it would complent HEMA, and after practicing with Dave using practice swords and MMA, I had to agree.

Things got even better when we moved from sparring with padded armor to full on plate armor.

The class had a few donated sets of old, beaten up, but still serviceable plate armor. That was when I went from hooked to addicted, as the sessions went by, I practiced with all sorts of weapons, swords, axes, maces, war hamrs, spears, pikes, glaves, flails, and many other weapons.

I even got into purchasing my own copies of manuscripts, fencing manuals, and illustrated treatises written by European masters and scholars.

And as my inco from my job was quite decent, I eventually saved up to buy my own armor, and after that, my room wall started looking like a dieval armory.

After 2 years of practice, the instructor called aside and offered a position on the gym’s team to try and make it to the national teams to represent USA internationally in dieval full-contact combat sports, or in its old French na, Buhurt.

Naturally, I took the offer. And after competing in the nationals and internationally and taking ho the golds, I had co to realize one thing.

I was fucking good at this. Sure, every now and then I would get a broken nose from soone smashing my face through my helt or getting my bones cracked every now and then, but it was a price I was willing to pay if I got to smash other people with full force.

Compared to Kendo, I could go full force in whacking soone, smacking soone with tal just had a different feeling. And don't even get started on Wushu, that was just fucking choreographed dancing with weapons.

My vision is getting dimr, should not rant too much, where was I?

Oh, right. The year after that and my team took ho Gold again. Which leads to this year’s competition.

I got Gold in my 1v1 matches and as a team, we won a few group matches, and all that was left was the 150v150 match, that is where I ended up in this situation.

I was on the strike team that would rush and attack any part of the opponent’s team that stuck out or if we saw an opening to take down so of the opponent’s numbers.

It was during one of these clashes that my leather chinstrap got undone, this was followed by a mace blow to the side of my head, which sent my helt flying off my head, and there was a two-handed axe already in motion towards my head, and before the referee step in or the two-handed axe wielder could redirect his strike, the two-handed axe caved in my skull.

No matter how much they dull the edge of that weapon for the competition, the chainmail coif that was left on my head did not prevent my skull from getting caved in by that full-powered swing.

And that is how I ended up lying on the ground with my brain juice leaking out of my head. I am so tired. I guess this is it for . I should have asked that cute new girl out. How are my parents going to take this…. Dammit.

Sorry Mum and Dad… I’m going to sleep now….

***

What am I hearing, is that people talking? I don't recognize the language though.

Wait, the international competition was held at so Switzerland castle, am I in a Swiss hospital? But what I am hearing is clearly not Swiss or any other language I have ever heard, but if I am not in Switzerland, where am I?

Oh God! Is this the afterlife? I can't see anything, is this purgatory? Or hell? Oh Jesus! Allah! Buddha!.... Odin? Please save !

That was when I felt a slap on my tender feeling ass and I cried out on instinct.

"Waaah… WaWaaah!"

What the fuck, I made that noise, what's going on?

I struggle to open my eyes as I feel myself being manhandled and wrapped in sothing warm and fluffy.

Shortly after I felt like I was handed over to sothing, I finally opened my eyes.

Wow, that's a huge woman, in more ways than one. But for all her hugeness, she looked to be covered in sweat and extrely tired, but beneath all that, she was obviously a beautiful woman.

I try to move my hands but can't, I look down to see I am swaddled from the neck down.

My investigation of my current state of being was interrupted as the huge woman gently caressed my face, said sothing in her language, and kissed my forehead.

I tried to talk to the huge lady to ask her what was going on, but the only sounds that ca out of my mouth were things like "Waahbbwvv…" and other cute sounding noises.

That's when I heard the unmistakable sound of won fawning over sothing cute from the side, when I turned towards the noise, I saw a bunch of maids who were in the classic maid dress, not the fetish stuff.

And beside them was a gruff looking man who was dressed in practical yet obviously expensive clothes like those seen on nobles in dieval period dramas, and he was walking towards . When he was in front of , he was truly huge, and the huge woman passed over to him while saying sothing.

As he picked up, that's when I finally saw it, there was a mirror on what looked like a dresser at the other side of the room, and in that mirror was the the reflection of the back of the man holding , but more importantly, the man was holding a baby.

This could not be, could it? So I purposely wriggled and saw my reflection doing the sa. These people are not huge, I am small, and a baby…

No. Nonononono… “Wa…Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!”

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