Chapter 82

　　The day ended with the top one hundred and twenty-eight competitors advancing to the next round. Unfortunately for John, his last match was against one of the seeded Pilots from a prominent clan. Although he put up a great defence, ultimately, he was eliminated.

　　The sun rose the next day in the virtual world, and the throngs in the city were even more enormous than yesterday. With the news of the Clan`s participation, people who missed the first day came in droves to witness the second day`s competition.

　　Four people made their way through the crowds, dressed in clothing that marked their allegiance to Merit. Wearing black pants and matching shirts, they all had merchandise of the Caledonian Pilot. The large man in front even had a decorated banner with Merit`s name written in a sparkling white font.

　　"Are you sure he will be fine with us attending? He didn`t seem too pleased to see us last time." Talha asked her grandmother, who was walking next to Elric in the lead.

　　"He was reminded of the battle. His doctors have assured me he is mentally in a much better place. If he weren`t, they would never have allowed him to participate in this event." Tamara replied. With her back straight and steady gate, she was an intimidating presence. Clearly a soldier and competent Pilot, the crowd parted before her quickly.

　　"If he didn`t want us to know he was here, he wouldn`t have had the organizers reach out to Miranda. His name is all over the Net, the Battling Baron` is what they are calling him. Silly name." Sylla added, scoffing at the title. The governor was wearing a large hat with Merit of Caledon` written on it over a white circle.

　　"Let`s just enjoy the day. Whether Kal wins or loses, what`s important is we see all these new variants that are on display." Elric stated, practically bouncing on his heels to see what the top Mech manufacturers had provided to the Clan Pilots.

　　He had watched the footage from yesterday`s matches, but most ended quickly without showing their skill set. The only one that had lost was Nero of Clan Scarlett, his Mech`s camouflage abilities had been showcased to the galaxy.

　　Already, Elric had heard that orders for the Scout variant with that feature had skyrocketed, despite its loss against Kal.

　　After an hour of exploring the city and its vendor stalls, they received a notification that they could now enter the arena. As a group, they disappeared into motes of white light, reappearing in their seats in the coliseum floating in the sky above the city.

　　It was an incredible sight. Millions of people gathered around to watch the tournament. There was an energy in the crowd as they shouted and cheered, their clothing displaying their chosen Pilot`s colours. Compared to the live streams, this was completely different.

　　Even Tamara was impressed. Her stoic face cracked slightly, and she smiled as she noticed how many people supported Merit.` If the old Duke could see his Grandson now competing in a Mech tournament, she was sure he would have loved it.

　　Settling into their seats, they waited for the next round to begin.

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　　Merit tossed away the heavy lasgun as his opponent`s Blade leapt at him. He hadn`t gotten a clear shot at the Mech from the undulating terrain and heavy boulders it was weaving its way around. The Blade wasn`t hiding, not with its fluorescent neon green paint job, but it was using cover to its advantage to draw Merit into close-quarters combat.

　　With his two hands-free, Merit pulled out his beam sword. Unlike the vibrating progressive blade that could cut through anything, the beam sword was a metal weapon coated in a layer of energy, enhancing its durability and giving it a keen edge.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

　　The Blade was wielding a long, heavy two-handed sword made of durable tungsten alloy. Rather than try to block it, and risk his weapon against the sword, Merit dodged, stepping backwards as the sword buried itself into the soft, grassy soil.

　　As Merit was about to counterattack, the Blade spun around, using the buried sword as leverage, kicking out with its leg. Blocking with his left arm, the force pushed Merit`s scout Mech off balance, giving his opponent time to heft his heavy weapon again.

　　Merit was impressed. This Pilot was experienced in hand-to-hand combat, closing in on his foe with creativity and keeping them on the backfoot while it set up its next attack.

　　But to the quick learning Merit, once he saw how the Blade approached combat, it telegraphed its movements with exaggerated slowness. Steady on his feet again, Merit waited as the Blade swung its sword horizontally at him. At the critical moment, Merit leapt over the heavy weapon, using his boosters to gain height.

　　At the peak of his jump, Merit reversed his Beam Sword, pointing it downwards and gripping it with two hands. The Blade hadn`t been expecting the quick maneuver and had only started to look up when the energy-coated weapon buried itself into its head, burning its way through its torso and, finally, the cockpit.

　　Releasing the Beam Sword, Merit jumped backwards, and the unsteady Blade toppled to the ground.

　　"Winner, Merit of Caledon!"

　　The next few matches went quickly, with Merit winning them with ease. It wasn`t until the top thirty-two that things changed.

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　　The crowd, which had begun the day as a multitude of coloured clothing and banners, slowly divided into clear groups as the tournament progressed. Merit`s merchandise became prominent, the crowd cheering as he continued through the brackets.

　　For Ty and his friends, it was like watching a new celebrity being born. They had known Merit the longest, and to see him gaining so much attention was surreal. But for Micah, the next match was critical.

　　"Merit of Caledon vs Sim Delmar of Cygnus!"

　　By the time they had reached the top thirty-two, the arenas had shrunk into a single unit. The increased size of the playing field allowed the matches to take an entirely new shape.

　　Reaching the flag in the center was still a valid strategy, and several Pilots adapted their Mechs and style to get it as quickly as possible and return it to their side for a quick victory. Others used the terrain to snipe or fire salvos of missiles at their opponent.

　　"Good luck." Sim sent opened a channel to his enemy before the match began, the link private between the two of them. Merit had a good impression of his foe, his mannerisms and tone showed he was a friendly and respectful person.

　　Sim was piloting the Light Class Mech, Goblin,` a short and squat humanoid mobile suit with missile pods on its shoulders, heavy armour and slow movement speed. It was designed for long-range, overwhelming firepower but could also eject those attachments and fight in close quarters. Its thick armour made it difficult to penetrate with a Lasgun, requiring multiple accurate shots in a small area to be successful.

　　His Mech`s slow speed meant that Sim was cautious of quick opponents reaching the flag and speeding away. He dealt with it by not allowing his foe to approach it without taking fire from the Goblin`s superior weapons.

　　"Thank you. Good luck to you as well." Merit replied. The connection between them was severed as the match began.

　　"Start!"

　　Sim`s Goblin, painted in a kaleidoscope of colours from dark greens and blues to neon red, purple and pink, started the match by firing a full salvo of missiles at Merit as he entered the arena. Arcing into the air and trailing white vapours, they were sparking specks well above them as they reached their full height.

　　The arena was another city, this one already entirely in ruins. The Goblin was on a slight rise while Merit entered through a wide avenue next to a park.

　　Raising his Lasgun, Merit carefully aimed. Tracking the missiles, his lasgun cracked as he fired. Streaks of bluish-white light lanced through the air, striking three of the rockets and detonating them. The arena was filled with the rumble of explosions, the thunderous crack of Lasgun discharge and the smell of smoke and fire.

　　The crowd looked up in awe as the entire salvo was detonated in mid-air, none reaching their target. Instead, they created an ineffectual spectacle for the gathered spectators.

　　Even Tamara was impressed by the display of marksmanship. She didn`t know if she would have been capable of replicating the feat with an unmodified Lasgun in a stock Scout Mech.

　　"Dammit." Sim cursed as he watched his attack be easily repelled.

　　With a thought, he disconnected the missile launchers, freeing some of the weight from his Goblin. The heavy metallic weapons crashed onto the ground, raising a cloud of dust as Sim lifted a PPC into his arms and began to make his way to higher ground.

　　There was no way he was going to lose this match.