Control Comes from Within

“Are the competitors ready?”

The announcer’s voice boomed with all the intensity of a megaphone as it crashed onto the ears of everyone in the stadium. There were fewer people in the audience now compared to the beginning of the festival, but that was only to be expected. After seeing fourth-years slinging spells around, only a step away from being recognized as true mages, as well as the professors showcasing their spellcasting abilities and their mastery over the elements, seeing the third and second-years was akin to watching children hitting each other with sticks.

Thankfully, the festival was just about winding down, with only a few more events left to finish before it concluded.

And, yes I was ready for this blood magic event.

All the events with the same theme had the same format, which meant this event of blood magic for second-years would be run almost identically to how it was run for the third and fourth years. Naturally, that meant I and all the other competitors knew what to expect.

“Then let’s get this event underway! We’ll start off with the trial of senses! Competitors, please wear the ring of darkness and, solely using blood magic, determine how many constructs there are in the designated area!” the announcer shouted out.

My competitors and I, numbering roughly fifty or so, stood in the grassy field of the stadium as we saw pitch-black rings appear before us, fading into visibility and hovering in midair. There were tiny runes etched into the surface, but their size prevented me from reading any of them. I collected the one before me and put it on, and instantly, I was in a black box.

All of my senses were gone. Sight, smell, hearing, touch, taste, even the more subtle ones like balance and temperature, were all gone, giving me the perception of floating in an infinite box of nothingness. The sounds of the announcer, the slight chill from the winter wind, the grass on the ground tickling the bottom of my ankles, everything vanished as soon as I put on the ring.

Luckily, I didn’t have to endure the sensation for too long, as a pale circle revealed itself to me, a number of faint red circulatory systems gradually becoming more distinct and numerous the longer I looked at them. Finally, once I noticed the outlines seemed to stop showing themselves within the circle, I counted them all up, a whopping seventy-five.

It was obvious that the judges were somehow selecting a portion of the audience members and isolating them from the others for the purpose of this test.

I still couldn’t feel any part of my body, but I was able to sense my own blood, so I repeated a previous method and carefully drew out about eighty milliliters from the vein in my elbow, and gently brought it out of my body, creating a tiny scab over the hole to reduce the chances of infection. Finally, I manipulated my blood into floating, creating two floating numbers that read, 75.

I maintained its shape for about five minutes, according to my mental count in my head, when my senses returned to me, disorienting me, and probably everyone else, with how quickly they resumed their normal function.

It was funny seeing the previous participants in this event fall to the floor and clutch at their ears in the fetal position, but when it happened to me, it was decidedly less funny, as the ringing in my ears and the persistent shadow spots in my eyes could attest to.

“And it appears we have a number of competitors eliminated, according to the judges! Thankfully, there are still…twenty-nine of you left, so we’ll continue on to the next portion! If I could request our lovely assistants to remove the eliminated participants from the field,” the announcer shouted. At his request, two mages manipulated the grass into wrapping around the losers and carrying them to a separate area out of sight. It must have sucked to be them, still stuck in that abyss without senses, and once they woke up, they were informed that they lost the event.

Good thing that wasn’t me.

The remaining participants were arranged into a circle with gaps between each student, as we waited for the announcer to proceed.

“Onto the next section, healing!” I smirked to myself. I had a bit of an edge over my opponents, seeing as I had actually taken the healing class. This trial would probably be easier for me than others. “Competitors, only using blood, attempt to heal the being before you as best as you can! You have until the sound of the bell to complete your task! Scores will be awarded based on your elapsed time and the effectiveness of your healing! Your time begins…now!”

As he finished speaking, the ground opened up before us, and a number of small pedestals rose before every participant. Atop each one was a wounded being. Some were humans, some were animals, and some were beastfolk.

I also noted one small detail that was common to all of them:

None of the ‘patients’ were bleeding. There were no cuts or lacerations on any of them. The ones I could see had various bruises, a broken arm, one was even blind, but there were no obvious injuries to be treated. Did the judges really expect second-years to be capable of healing these non-blood related ailments? Even the final monthly assessment wasn’t this hard.

That made it a bit harder than I expected it to be, but I wasn’t ready to give up just yet and hopefully, my own patient wouldn’t prove too challenging,

Turning to the creature in front of me, I saw a grey bicorn standing in place on the pedestal while barely moving. It snorted once and shook its head back and forth before returning to its previous state of non-movement.

It was obvious what was wrong with it, as one of its hind legs was barely touching the floor, a small but noticeable protrusion jutting out of it. Horseshoes were rendered redundant with essence strengthening all parts of its body, but some debris had managed to lodge itself into the bicorn’s foot despite that.

I bent down and plucked some shoots of grass into my hand, keeping it ready for the bicorn. As I approached at a normal pace, neither too fast nor too cautiously slow, I slowly stretched out my left hand, offering the blades of grass to the wounded creature.

It wasn’t too skittish, and unhesitantly took a chomp out of the grass, eating everything in my hand in one bite, munching and chewing while I slowly approached its flank and started petting its side, gently brushing it with my hand in the same direction.

Once I felt it was relaxed enough around me such that I could proceed, I closed my eyes and focused in on the creature’s blood, its heart near the base of its legs, its veins and arteries running through its legs and tail. I decided to use my own blood for this, as using its blood would likely make it less cooperative. Using the blood I already had out, I fashioned it into a small rounded knife, and took the creature’s injured limb between my legs, holding it with my knees. Surprisingly, it didn’t struggle or make any protesting actions, other than maybe a few spirited flicks of its tail.

Taking that as implicit agreement, I started paring away around the piece of stone in its hoof. The further down I got, the more of the offending piece I could see. It looked like a shiny piece of quartz, albeit one that was unnaturally jagged. Once I had pared enough of the surrounding area away, I changed the shape of the blood knife into a set of pliers, and pulled out the rock, teasing it from right to left as I did so.

Even while pulling out the stone, the bicorn was well-behaved, and I managed to successfully remove the stone without any major issue. Ideally, I would use something to wash out any smaller pieces I couldn’t see, and wrap it up after applying something similar to an antibacterial, but constrained as I was by blood magic, I fashioned the pliers into a small covering and secured it to the base of the bicorn’s hoof, wrapping it up in a solidified blood construct made to look like gauze.

By the time I was done, the bicorn had its leg gently on the ground and decided to thank me for my efforts by snorting right in front of my face, leaving small traces of wetness all over my face and head. I quickly wiped myself with my sleeves, trying not to freak out over how unhygienic that was, and reminded myself to take a shower after this event was done.

I took one last look at the bicorn and noticed there was the beginnings of a blood clot forming in one of its arteries, something that was easily rectified. I laid my hand on its neck and gently but surely broke down the clot, returning it to its component pieces. A final check, and I didn’t see anything else I could fix. There was a small tear in a ligament near its front right leg, but it was beyond my ability to heal.

Satisfied with what I had done, I continued to pet the doubly-horned horse as I gazed around the stadium at my fellow competitors. Most of them were still working on their patients, but there were two that I saw were finished as well, and our eyes met. The closer of the two, a green-haired girl who was chatting with the beastman she had just healed, smiled and nodded at me before she continued to speak with her patient.

The second one was far less cordial, an athletic-looking blond guy wearing glittery clothes that were just blue enough to not be considered purple, and hence, he was just barely considered to be not committing a crime. Everything about him spoke of arrogance, though I’m sure that if he were asked, he’d claim that it was noble pride instead. His sneer as we made eye contact, his roll of the eyes and turning his back to me after I waved at him ironically, all led me to believe he was one of those ‘nobles first’ types.

Soon enough, the trial ended with the sound of a bell being struck, small and high-pitched. The announcer immediately followed it up with, “And that marks the end of the healing portion! Contestants, please step away from your patients while the judges deliberate!”

Everyone took a few steps back from the pedestals and patients while a group of five went around the circle of patients one by one, and determined whether or not the competitors could progress in the event or not. Some of the judges looked at certain patients and made minor fixes to their treatments, explaining to the students what they had done wrong, while others just nodded or shook their heads.

Eventually, the judges finished their…judging…and after a hurried session of whispering, sent one of their members to the announcer, who belted out the results.

“The judges have informed me of their decisions, so let’s see the results! Remember everyone, those who pass will receive an ‘O’ above their heads, while those failed will receive nothing. Now, let’s see who will progress to the combat portion of this event!” he finished.

The judges shot out green blood, something I wasn’t familiar with but that my blood sensing ability confirmed was blood, and it paused over certain people, taking an agonizingly long time to change into an ‘O’.

I received the passing mark, as did the two who had finished before me, and a handful of others. Those who didn’t pass had the usual expressions on their face: anger, sadness, disappointment, but they kept their calm and quietly exited the stadium with a group of escorts.

“And then there were twelve! Ladies and gentlemen, what do you say we proceed to the best part of any event: the combat portion!”

The announcer’s attempt to hype up the crowd was met by the din of the audience cheering and clapping, with a few whistles occasionally piercing through. While the mood was still up, he pressed on, capitalizing on the momentum, “Then let’s move on to…the…tournament!” Another wave of cheering and howling met his statement.

“Seeing as we have an imperfect number of participants, we’ll proceed with the usual format until the final three. Once we’re left with the final three contestants, they will each face the other two once. Whoever manages to land two victories will be considered the winner! Should all of them tie, the judges will determine the winner by their skills! Now, let’s get started!”

To hurry things along, the judges decided to hold two matches at the same time, so four people were fighting at once. My match was up last, so I got to see the others fight before I went up. The other competitors were all skilled, but the matches either ended lightning-fast, with one person using an unexpected move, or turned into a slow and boring stalemate where the two just traded blows without showing any particularly effective or useful techniques.

Eventually, the judges declared the winner of each match, either by knockout, ringout, or in the case of a draw, by who performed better.

Finally, it was time for my first match.