Even in defeat, William Oh finds a way to achieve a more punishing victory.

* Jason Salazar

Two weeks went by in a maelstrom of punishment.

“I’m not sure I’m getting this,” Will said, using a brush and soapy water to scour dirt and bits of the arena wall out of his front before the priestesses closed it back up. “I’m not sure I’m gonna get this.”

I think my tolerance for pain has come disturbingly far in the last year, Will thought, rinsing and re-dipping the bloody brush in soapy water and starting on the next shrapnel-filled scrape.

It was a very strange sensation, fighting Bakton, especially on this Floor. Will was so much stronger than Sammohan that he could effectively overwhelm the man with raw speed and power, but against Bakton it was like he was just…buying time.

Walking an infinite tightrope until he eventually fell off. There was no winning, only delaying defeat. Kind of like the sin amalgam, actually.

Even if Will started off strong, it would eventually unravel. How? Will couldn’t quite grasp it.

Bakton wasn’t looking for Will to literally tell him a funny joke, Will found that out quickly. The hard way. Bakton was looking for Will to perform an action in combat that made him laugh.

Naturally, Will had assumed pratfalls would be the solution but those always ended in pain. Bakton didn’t seem to have a sense of humor about those, and they usually ended in kicks while he was down.

Will suppressed a sharp inhale as Ria plucked a shard of rock out of his back. Anna wasn’t in attendance, because she didn’t really have the stomach for anything bloodier than a kissable boo-boo.

“Almost done back there?” He asked, offering the scrub-brush.

“Almost.” Ria said, her tongue sticking out a bit as she concentrated.

“Will, I’ve been watching you get picked apart for two weeks,” Loth said, her bugs assisting with Will’s first aid.

“…And you’ve been getting better and better at fighting, but you still keep losing. After stewing on it for a few days, I don’t think the issue is with fighting, but perhaps your understanding of comedy.

“How so?” Will asked.

“What is comedy?” Loth asked.

“When you say or do something funny.” Will said with a shrug.

“Why is it funny?” Loth asked.

Will stared into the distance.

“…Huh. Never really thought about it. It’s just…funny.”

“Will, there are several different breeds of comedy. We’re going to narrow our focus down to a couple.”

“Shoot,” Will said, wincing as another shard came out of his back.

“Observational humor is when the comedian highlights a truth of their life and shares it with the audience, often through a lens that shares the comedian’s perspective, the humor of which is derived from the shared experience of the audience.”

“…How would that apply to fighting Bakton?” Will asked.

“I don’t know.” Loth said with a shrug. “Humor, when boiled down to its most basic, is about shared experiences, but also defying expectations. Most structured jokes build an expectation in their audience based on shared experiences, then defy the expectations in a novel way.

The gap between the expectation and the punchline is where humor lives. Similarly, the harmony between a comedian’s observations and those of their audience are where the humor lives.

Build expectation, then undercut it.” Loth said. “Or build on shared experiences. The best comedians do both at the same time.”

“…How do you know so much about comedians?” Will asked.

“Akul night-life.” Loth said.

Will had questions, but he didn’t pursue them in favor of continuing their current discussion.

“Undercut expectations. In combat that would be…Like…a feint?” Will asked.

Loth snapped her fingers, and pointed a claw at Will.

A feint that is also a joke that highlights a shared experience between both of us? Will thought. How does Bakton expect me to do something like that? First thing I’d have to do Is understand what shared experiences we have. Perhaps if I...

“…Huh.” Was the only sound Will made, his eyes staring into the distance as he retreated into his thoughts.

“I see you’ve got something.” Loth said.

“…Maybe.” Will said. “I think - OW!”

“That’s a big one,” Bee mused, looking over Ria’s shoulder as the Tangled plucked a thumb-sized shard of magically reinforced stone out of Will’s skin.

“Okay, hand me the brush,” Ria said, sliding the soap and rinse bucket over to her side.

Will acquiesced, then braced himself for a brutal scrubbing as his wounds were cleaned out.

“Here’s your…barrels,” a small team of Anna started cheerfully, dropping off the barrels dated two weeks ago. The girls got an eyeful of Will’s mangled body and and turned green, hustling back to the other side of the partition.

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“isn’t she seeing what you’re seeing all the time?” Will asked through gritted teeth as Ria scrubbed the dirt out of his wounds.

“We’re not actively sharing everything constantly. It’s like having your eyes closed. Even with closed eyes, you can distinguish light and dark and maybe a bit of movement. With a thought we can open our eyes to each other’s experiences, but we generally don’t intrude on each other’s privacy without reason.” Ria said. “More light here.”

Loth’s torchbugs moved to accommodate while Will fetched the first barrel with Phantom Hand, grabbing his two Greater Healing Potions and storing them before moving on to the rings.

Will popped open the first Ring of Resistance Barrel and plucked the simple gold band out of the depleted dust, inspecting it.

Ring of Resistance

+24 Resistance

Will checked the next two rings, getting 20 and 18 for them, because Will had used most of the good Resistance relics on the first one.

All but the best one.

Will had an unmodified ring with a Resistance boost of 11. If this worked, he could-

“Arms up,” Ria said, prompting Will to raise his arms.

A moment later a bucket of clean water was dumped over his head, washing away all the blood and soap.

“Hmmm.” Ria gave Will’s wounds a critical once-over before nodding. “Looks clean enough. I’ll fetch the healers.”

“Thanks.” Will nodded as Ria left.

In a minute, the incidental wounds from his sparring with Bakton were faint scars that would fade to nothing in a matter of days thanks to Aspect of the Immortal Serpent.

Once Will was allowed to put his clothes back on, he immediately grabbed his bolt cutters and ashed the three Resistance rings into a clean barrel, dropping in the +11 ring he’d been saving for the occasion. If it worked, Will should get a ring with a Resistance bonus somewhere around +45, and would immediately slot it in Phantom Hand and set about making Brianna a Focus ring.

If it didn’t work at least Will knew the limitations of his Ability.

The next morning, like every morning the past two weeks, Will reported to the arena for his daily beating.

Something’s different, Will thought. Maybe it was the good sleep or the delicious breakfast Anna had made for him, but from the very moment Bakton stepped foot into the arena, his body was speaking to Will.

“So, haven’t given up yet? I’ve never had someone take this long to grasp the basics,” Bakton said, his dueling blade over his shoulder as he sauntered close.

That’s not what he’s saying, Will thought, frowning.

The sword over his shoulder was pretending he was at ease, revealing a gap in his lower left guard, and the way his feet were walking a bit bowlegged was demonstrating practiced arrogance.

But something deeper told Will that Bakton appreciated having someone to teach.

It’s the Debt! Will thought. Debt could pick up on language subtler than a human could naturally and amplify it. Like the wall behind a shadow puppet. Without it, you wouldn’t see the shadow puppet at all.

That’s what he was talking about!

“Let’s get this over with,” Bakton said, feigning boredom. The way his core was tensed said the opposite. The toe of his right foot slid a bit to the right, suggesting he was going to move right, Bakton’s eyes focused right as well, and Will had to decide if-

Debt says he’s going left.

The melee Lord flickered to the left, and Will raised his tomahawk to meet the attack, the weapons clanging off each other.

This was not unusual, Will’s speed usually allowed him to adjust, but this was the first time Will had this much spare time. A whole quarter of a second, which was ages compared to the white-knuckle lightning-strike that Will had to stumble back and forth from, just barely surviving.

The extra time wasn’t gained by speed, but by understanding Bakton’s intentions in advance.

Is this how he sees everything? If now matter how fast Will was, Bakton was always a quarter second ahead because Will was announcing his intentions to the Floor…Bakton would be really hard to beat.

Will used his extra time to set his stance for a weapon lock with the tomahawk and a counterattack with his elbow, but Bakton was already sliding out of the way, a faint smile on his lips.

Bakton didn’t resist the tug but instead slid forward, ducking down below Will’s attack and jamming his own elbow straight into Will’s liver.

“Ugh, my liver.” Will grunted, staggering back.

“Liver’s on the other side.” Bakton said, pointing to Will’s other side. “If I’d hit your liver, you’d know.”

“Nobody ever taught me anatomy,” Will muttered, rubbing the soon-to-be bruise.

“Clearly.” Bakton shrugged, his expression softening. “No fault of yours, kid.”

Bakton raised his sword again, dropping into a stance clearly meant to be defensive.

Then why do I get the impression he’s going to-

Bakton flickered forward, a flurry of strikes launching from his dueling blade, forcing Will to backpedal.

In that flustered state, Will lost the sensation he’d begun with and the battle began slipping away from him, eventually ending that evening with Will just as ragged and injured as he was the night before.

But I DID catch a glimpse of it.

“If there’s one thing you can be confident in, it’s your Resistance,” Bakton said later that evening, dragging Will back to his Caravan. “Nobody else I know your level can take a beating from sunup to sundown. What’s your Resistance even at?”

“Two oh five,” Will said through swollen lips.

“Well…that’d do it,” Bakton mused. “…I’ll have to get a sharper blade.”

“Please don’t.” Will groaned.

“I could see you catching a glimpse of it this morning.” Bakton said.

“Yeah, I could almost read it,” Will replied.

“I could tell you were in a good mood. A good mood helps you relax enough to enter that state. At least until you get a feel for it.”

It’s a fine balance of brutally punishing yourself and then babying yourself. Work yourself to the bone, then give yourself good sleep, good food, clean sheets, and a good woman. They can do more for a man’s performance than you’d expect.”

“Huh.” Will grunted, wondering exactly what part of that he was missing. Will had pretty much covered all of those things in his daily life.

“At least a good woman helps with the sleep part, y’know what I mean?” Bakton said, elbowing Will’s ribs.

“Not…really?” Will said.

Bakton frowned and opened his mouth to say someth-

“Will!” Anna’s voice carried through the keep as they approached the caravan and the baker girl rushed forward to fuss over him. Will was more bruised than perforated this time, so she wasn’t bothered as much.

“Cute girl, is she your-“

Three more Anna arrived, lifting Will off Bakton’s shoulder and holding him up while they stripped his bloody rags off. Will’s breath hitched as some dried blood got peeled away, opening scabs.

“Let me get you clean, I’ve got a warm bath all ready for you.” They said in eerie synchronicity while the fourth hustled away with Will’s bloodied clothes.

Two Anna put Will’s arms over their shoulders and began directing him towards the washroom.

Bakton stood there and watched the entire process with a slack jaw.

“…Is this what losing feels like?” Bakton whispered to himself as soon as Will was out of earshot, being escorted to a bath naked by three identical young women.

Naturally, Will heard it.

“Pretty much!” Will hollered back over his shoulder.

Ah…he’s gonna murder my ass tomorrow…but that was totally worth it.

“Pretty much what?” Anna asked, peering up at him from under his arm.

“Oh I was just responding to something Bakton said,” Will said before changing the subject. “Hey, how do you guys feel about cheering me on tomorrow to make Bakton feel bad?”

“Sorry,” Anna said shaking her head. “I can’t stand watching you get trounced so badly. The man practically turns you into hamburger.”

“Not today, Anna.” Will said, leaning into her a bit more. The injured version of a hug. “Not today.”

“You won?” She gasped looking up at him with eyes glittering with expectation.

“No, I got trounced and turned into hamburger.” Will admitted with a chuckle. “But it doesn’t feel like it.”

…I think I’m starting to get somewhere.

“I’ll watch you get beat up!” Bee said, raising a hand from where a knot of her copies sat.

“You always cheer for the other guy!” Will shot back.