Jove wasn't one to normally involve himself in simple jobs or tasks that fell outside the range of his rune knight duties. It wasn't some complicated reason, either. He was just lazy. He had always been the type to do his job and clock out. The finances of Fiore were skewed, and definitely not in his favor. Even as a rune knight, until he climbed much higher within the organization, the amount he was paid was miniscule. Should he climb, the amount of work that he had to do would increase disproportionately with the minor bump in pay. To put it simply, promotions were not a boon for a Knight. They were a curse. A guarantee of exhaustion, without the promise of a good home or stable income.

And so, instead of putting all of his eggs in one basket, here he was. Baska, in western Fiore, was home to a large tournament which happened every so often. It was not weekly, monthly, or even yearly. It simply took place a couple of weeks after it was announced, and it was announced at random. So why was he here? Had the rune knight come in order to test himself in this tournament and hope to win it all, bringing in a hefty income in the process?

Of course not. In fact, he hadn't even realized he would end up here. He had accepted a job that involved fighting another participant. This participant was the victor of the last tournament, a man named Julius. He was a complete stranger to Jove, and he didn't know anything about the individual. That said, he didn't care. This was a fighting tournament. Even if he was destined to win, once Jove entered, that meant he had to be able to beat Jove too. It wasn't necessarily that Jove was overly confident, either. He just needed the pay, and wished to avoid another promotion as long as possible.

(wc: 329/2500)

The preliminaries went smoothly, though that was to be expected. Jove by no means considered himself to be a powerhouse. He had plenty of equals, and even more who surpassed him with ease. Yet the individuals who sported great power and skill normally would not mix themselves in with such a tournament. That wasn't to say that they wouldn't fight for sport. There had been plenty of instances in the past in which the greatest mages of the country would come together in a single spot and fight for the prize or the crown. However, these events were usually of a dramatically impressive scale. They brought in people from all over the country, sometimes the continent. They brought the eyes of nobles and royalty, and of guild masters throughout the land. They offered elixers and items of legend, as well as prize money that would sustain an individual for life, or afford to power them up to the next level. These events were beyond comprehension. A small city like Baska, hosting a tiny tournament with a prize of a few hundred thousand jewel, would never bring in those who defied common sense. With that in mind, Jove could attend this tournament with a bit of unearned confidence.

That confidence had been reinforced due to the fact that there were none who turned out to be real competition during the preliminaries, nor had there been any during the first few rounds. The fights ended in a single hit, even if the opponent had enough speed and reaction time to block. Normal humans often put all their time and effort into a single thing. Building their speed through repetition, or their strength through training. Some were gifted with monstrous endurance or constitutions. Yet when one was dealing with A rank mages or higher, all logic went out the window.

Jove, as it stood, was an S rank mage. This meant he was even more of a monster.

Defenses were broken through, and those who attempted to be elusive were ran down. None had been able to avoid his pursuit. A kick to their side, a knee to their sternum, an elbow to the side of the head. The attacks were made with brutal efficiency, and without concern for their well-being. He wasn't putting in enough force to kill anyone in these early contests, but he wasn't concerned with broken limbs or bones. There were plenty of healers on site who could bring people back from the very brink of death without trouble.

Besides, Jove was an efficient man through and through. Rather than drag things out, better instead to get the job done and go back to relaxing.

Perhaps there was an alternative drive there too. Over the past few days, Jove had finally started hearing the mumblings of the being who shared his body with him. The other entity had no control or influence, but that didn't mean that the rune knight intended to be a domineering host. He knew that the embodiment of Pride chose him as a host, and for that reason he decided that occasional demonstrations such as this would do good for the entities ego. It wasn't that Lucifer found enjoyment or confidence in the bashing of regular humans. Rather, it assured him that the one whom he chose to make a deal with went well above the normal confines of his race. He had reached a peak, and had already begun the ascent of the next mountain. This would be a major deal for the sin of Pride, and Jove didn't mind doing something small to guarantee their continued copasetic livelihood.

With the preliminaries and beginning rounds out of the way, there were only three rounds left. According to the tournament tree, there would only be a single chance for Jove to fight this tournament champion, and that was in the finals. He had no doubt the the two could make it there, however that meant that from this point forward he would have to take the fights seriously. He would no longer assume those he fought were weaker than him. That sort of arrogance could lead to defeat, and since he had already started the job, he did not want to go home without his pay.

(wc: 1048/2500)

The semifinals began, and before him in the arena came a woman with a staff. The staff did not seem to be the type that would be used for the enhancement of magic. It was without intricate design, or the normal indicators of a conduit for mana. Truth be told, it looked like the bar of a workout bench that was now being used for combat. Each edge was much thicker than the center, and Jove took that as indication that the staff was weighted. That was smart. If she was smart enough to utilize it as normal, then the amount of momentum she could build would pair with the added weight in order to add a tremendous amount of destructive power. Aside from that, if the quality of the material was high, then that meant that the staff would likely not be damaged in usage, which meant she wouldn't have to hold back and could utilize her martial arts in its entirety.

The round started, and the woman immediately dashed in. The land between them disappeared in a moment, and as she slammed the staff down to the floor of the arena, Jove pivoted his back foot away and turned his body to the side. Her weapon collided with the ground where he once stood, and had he been slower it would have likely come into contact with his shoulder and caused serious damage. The ground cracked on impact, which would normally indicate a moment of hesitation. After all, when one hit an object that they could not break through, the kinetic power would be reversed back into it. It was like punching a wall with all your force, and having it remain unbroken, versus punching a hole right through it. If you break through, the power continues forward and you're left relatively unharmed. If it is stopped, the energy comes backwards and causes damage, as well as causing the momentum to come to a stop.

However, it seemed either that her staff was special, or that she was special. Her momentum did not slow at all, and instead she swung up without hesitation. Jove pivoted once more, spinning behind her, which allowed the staff to pass through where he once stood. His left hand reached backwards, grabbing the staff close to where her hands gripped it, and he continued to spin while leaning forward.

Kicking his butt out against her own and ripping his arm forward while gripping the staff, the momentum and the angle lifted the woman off her feet. She would roll over his hips, and fly forward into the arena. Slamming into the ground with a slapping sound, her grip on the staff would relax completely. Throwing the staff to the side, Jove looked down at her form to ensure it was unconscious. The round was called, and with that he nodded and made his way off the arena. She was an impressive fighter, and had plenty of room to grow in the future.

(wc: 1549/2500)

The semi final round began, and Jove once again was the first on the arena. At this point, whenever he fought, the crowd would go silent. The fighters whom he had already beaten would come to the side of the arena and watch his movements. He moved with a level of confidence and efficiency that would be appreciated by any martial artists. Having been the ones to fight him, they also understood his overwhelming power and speed. To put it simply, they wanted to see what would happen. Whether he would continue to force his way through every opponent he came across, whether an individual would come who would give him a true challenge, or whether or not he would lost against an opponent.

Those who had faced him could never imagine him losing, but those who faced the previous years champion felt the same way. Both individuals were beyond comparison to the others here, with only one potential exception. That was those who still remained. The semifinalists. Jove didn't bother to look who the champion was against. As disrespectful as it might be, Jove didn't care about those he wouldn't be fighting here. It wasn't that he disrespected them, and it wasn't that he didn't think he could improve his own skills here by observing. It was simply about the fact that he had come here for a job, and that's what he planned to do.

His opponent made his way to the arena, and this one was a man. Nearly seven feet tall, and extremely buff, he looked almost comical. The type of build one would expect to see on an anime pirate ship rather than in this arena. His personality was a bit extravagant as well, far different than anyone else Jove had bumped into.

"My name is Dior! I have built my body to be impervious to all damage. Magic or blade. Fist or grapple. Nothing can bring me harm!" A luchador was the best way to describe this masked bravado. He was a man who indulged on the reaction of the crowd and the screams of the audience. Yet, as previously stated, those who watched Jove fight in this area did so with baited breath. There was no sound. No cheers or boos. Only individuals who waited to see if this amount of confidence was going to be backed up enough to overcome the unknown titan.

Dior decided he'd have to do something special. Something unique. Putting his arms to the side with a grin, he taunted Jove. "Bring it then! Go on! I will demonstrate that you cannot hurt me, and then I will crush you into dust." Jove stared as if looking at the last dodo bird as it sprinted from a cliff. This man was clearly deficient, and Jove would not entertain it. Dashing forward full speed, he'd send a hook that was driven by the twisting joints of his body and core. The blow reverberated through the crowd, earning a collective groan, as the mans feet were temporarily lifted from the ground. Collapsing and surrounding himself in a mix of blood and vomit, Jove was announced the winner and made his way from the arena.

(wc: 2096/2500)

The final opponent. Julius.

The fight had started and brought shock from the arena. Julius' first blow on Jove had missed, but likewise so had Jove's. The two fought, and that enough was a shock. Every blow the Rune Knight threw was deflected or dodged, and while every blow the opponent threw was blocked or avoided. The two fought to a draw it seemed, and the crowd found themselves in a frenzy. It was finally a close fight, and even the fighters who watched found themselves in shock.

Finally a blow was landed. The champion, Julius, landed a spinning back kick to Jove's core. Having seen it coming and flexing his impressive core, the blow was heavy but not detrimental. Sliding backwards, the champion continued forward to press his advantage. High blows that were quick to reset like jabs and straights, with leg kicks sprinkled in to keep Jove from falling into a rhythm. Yet each of these blows were countered, and the fight fell back into a stalemate. One of them would have to make a mistake for the draw to end, and it seemed as though that mistake had finally come.

Jove stepped back, his foot sliding back as it met the arena. It was a sudden slide, one that indicated that it was a mistake. Yet as the champion reacted and shot for Jove's waist, hoping to wrap his hands around the back of his knees and take him to the ground, the truth came out. Jove had merely stepped and pivoted, yet it was so quick that it was mistaken to be a slip. With his front leg firmly planted, the leg that slipped ripped itself from the ground. Jove's knee slammed into Julius' face, stopping the momentum and causing the champion to fall straight down.

Julius put his hands forward, catching himself and quickly rolling away, trying to stand. Yet he stumbled, his brain having been bounced around in his head on that impact and his nose likely broken. Jove wasn't going to let him rest. He was already on top of the enemy, raining heavy fists onto his back and dropping him back to hands and knees.

With that, Jove jumped back. The man before him was broken and bruised. He wouldn't give up, but Jove knew how a cornered animal could be. Rather than take it to the ground and give the man a chance to get a lucky roll, he'd let him stand.

Lifting himself onto weak legs, the man looked at Jove with a mix of anger and respect. He dashed forward, sending an exhausted haymaker for the rune knights head, but it was ducked and countered with a hook of his own. Jove's fist connected with the champions jaw, and as the champions head was knocked to the side, he fell unconscious to the arena.

Making his way from the arena and to the one who gave him the request, Jove collected his payment and made his way from this area. It was a good fight, and a fulfilling request.

(wc: 2614/2500)