Poppet Brawl. A game played amongst Necromancers or those with sufficient magic power. Poppet’s are folk magic dolls made to resemble a specific person. It is used to cast a wide variety of magics. During the early 21st century a student found a way to create a form of pseudo link to a doll. First popularized at the academy, it was considered a non-lethal way of resolving bets and duels.

  The administration looked negatively upon the practice. To them it was considered too light for someone to survive or not get maimed during a conflict. It was when a larger number of Necromancers made it to graduation that they decided to change their tune. After its use at the academy it naturally decimated itself across the underworld.

  The Tyrant’s Curio’s shop did not seem to possess an end. If one was to walk in a straight line they would feel the store stretch ever further into the distance. It was not an infinite space the magic within simply made it appear to be so. Close observation would have one making what are essentially magic loops.

  The building was also not a small place. Wayne had learned from the Tyrant's daughter that it was close to three football fields on the main floor. Nate, Wayne, Cilene, and the fiery tempered Necromancer were standing in a back room. It was only a blink of the eyes for the door to have closed onto their position.

  Nate was taken by surprise as he hadn't felt Cilene come up right next to him as the back of the store twisted to meet the front. She was unnecessarily close, breathing down his neck. Her hand snaked out to his hip. With gusto he pulled away before the hands had a chance to wander.

  An arena filled the space. Tall walls with stands ringed a circle in the middle of the room. It was not a size that a normal person would find comfortable battling within but it would be the perfect size for the Poppet’s. Nate picked his up from where it was left in the seat.

  Energy coursed out of his body and into the Poppet. Cloth shot out of its back wrapping into a cocoon for a moment before hatching. It matched his own appearance now, from the hat, to his overcoat. It was odd as only the face remained in that straw like form.

  Loose sand whistled and whipped up in the center of the field along with unseen wind. The Tyrant’s Skull had appeared or more correctly was always at the center of the boxed in viewing area. Cilene accompanied Wayne to the box seat as Nate’s opponent pulled out his own Poppet. Being experienced meant he didn’t need to use a loaner.

  On opposite sides of the ring a single seat was prepared that brought the puppeteer closer to the action. This provided an unobstructed connection to the Poppet. It also doubled as a safety measure. Wards and talismans were interwoven into the seating to prevent any dirty fighting. The Tyrant's voice boomed throughout the field as Nate took his seat.

  “I shall restate the rules for those unaware. This will be a single round of combat. The first Poppet to perish or puppeteer to surrender shall lose. On the side of the blue corner the new Necromancer. Given such a status the Red corner has agreed that both sides shall not use any monster summons nor shall the Red side use anything more than a single spirit of grade three or below. The winner shall receive either a magic item and placement at the front of the que, or a single grade two spirit. Both sides are you ready?”

  Wayne had offered one of the items that they would receive from the Husken Raiders. Cilene had heard the whole matter and given him a stink eye the whole time. He watched the match with a stone cold face. Having successfully duped the man that has been bothering the Tyrant was worth quite a bit. Not only that but he would be empowering his student without having to spend a single cent. It was all he could do not to break into a wide smile.

  The thought that his student would lose was drowned out by praise for his grand achievement. If Nate knew the confidence his master had in him it would be enduring. Learning that it was coming from a place a blind greed would have had the opposite effect.

  Luck was on Wayne’s side. Nate wasn’t one to shy away from a fight, that went doubly so for a friendly wager. Gambling might not be his vice of choice but was it gambling if you knew you would win. Confidence and a willingness to almost get killed seemed to be all that held Nate up lately. Taking down a single three star spirit on their home turf was all the prior confidence he needed.

  Taking a strand of his hair he placed it into the open back of the Poppet. His body became sluggish as he felt himself split. An odd experience of being in two places at once it nearly caused him to lose his lunch. Stumblingly he slumped into the seat. Holding down the feeling it slowly faded allowing him to place the Poppet into the ring.

  “Since you might not get the chance to hear it I’ll tell you my name now. They call me… Francis.” His opponent's voice boomed out over the field.

  “Honestly, I thought it would be something cooler. Like Black Hand.”

  “Why you no good brat.”

  The two Poppets were now both alive within the zone. Being of diminutive size the space was more than enough for their battle. Half foot tall bodies stood at attention as the link came into full control. Nate flexed his new body, the sensations were oddly weird. Whoever had come up with this magic must have been a genius. Gaining his bearings came first as he performed as set of exercises that his father had taught him when he was kid.

  As he finished the movements he looked up at his stationary body. The connection removed the need to move his main body. Inspecting his closed eyes, he attempted to open his real eyes. Staring back and forth at himself gave a horrible feeling of vertigo once more. He shut them tight before it could get any worse.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  *RUMBLE* * RUMBLE*

  “LET THE BATTLE BEGIN.”

  The ground split open as large buildings shot up all over the field obstructing Nate’s and his opponents' view. Francis didn’t seem to know this would happen either as he could hear the man curse in frustration. Nate was off set to the right of the back wall a long building formed to his front with a right side being the closest corner.

  The poppet carried over everything that was permanent on the user. This meant Nate’s wounds didn’t carry over. Dashing out at full speed he reached the corner and the field came into full view. He locked onto Francis who was diagonal to his current position. He’d move just into the corner area.

  Five buildings had formed with doors and windows that one could use to go inside at differing placements. The rectangular field had the building that blocked Nate's initial view. It was long running toward the far wall. There it stopped and a gap was present to move from cover to another long building that pushed in toward Francis. On the opposite side of the field was another building; the offset between it and Nate's starting building was much greater.

  This building pushed the opposing corner to where Francis stood but stopped half way down the field. Another gap was exposed there to another equally long building. This last one had its skinny side toward Francis’ back starting wall. The last building was smaller and placed just ahead of where Francis stood.

  From the moment Nate rounded the corner Francis let out a wicked smile. He pointed into the air which was followed by a streak of light. A moment later the sound of rain droplets spread out across the field. The pitter pattering rain came down in a large area cutting off half of the field. Nate guessed that the rain was bad news one way or another.

  It was in his best interest to forgo whatever ruse that Francis was producing. Nate focused his mind and Lupita answered his call in a moment. Her fangs surged up from the ground, gnashing teeth hell bent on devouring all within its maw. With a loud clack they only went around halfway to the other Poppet. What was normally a distance he could summon her fangs with ease was now far out of reach.

  “Did you forget everything is reduced within the ring? How else would it be fair?”

  Francis’ voice echoed across the ring intermingling with the rain. Another blinding flash of light shot toward Nate. He tried to summon the fangs once more. They did not answer his call. With little time to react he jumped to the side. Lupita’s bite was near instant but it also lingered. He hadn’t known that he had to wait for it to finish. The magic slowly faded from the center of the field. From the way it was acting it was from his over commitment. If it had been half of the fangs then he could have summoned the other half. It was his own fault for going for a decisive blow.

  Lupita’s power and spell were her teeth. The size could vary and even the smallest could be made into a viscous weapon two feet in height and width. With the largest being able to stretch four feet in size. Each could be utilized in a variety of ways but all would have to take time to dissolve and return.

  The shot ripped through the air and blasted his arm sleeve open. A stink of rot assailed his nostrils immediately. The fabric that made up his mini-me’s clothes sizzled and burned. Finishing his roll he came to a stop behind the next building. He waited a breath longer, stripping the sizzling clothing off as he did so. The full set of teeth locked into place.

  Looking down he saw a clean cut hole within the fabric of his clothes. Purple colored miasma swirled amongst the gaping hole. He couldn’t be certain of the effect but a direct hit would likely be fatal. He lamented not being able to use Karah, but this would be a good opportunity to find out what he can do without her help. Growing overly reliant on her wasn’t the correct path, it was obvious from his neglect of Lupita’s power.

  The fangs couldn’t be summoned directly out of flesh. As the coat blistered and burnt he tore several uncontaminated pieces free. He took one, tore it into a long strip and wrapped it around his hand. A proportionally two foot sized fang shot out from the front of his knuckles. He stabbed it deep into the wall gouging out a rectangular hole. With a kick the panel fell inwards allowing him access. The door was still in the sight line that Francis would be able to fire.

  Francis waited patiently for his prey. His opponent having unwittingly displayed his max range on his spells was a boon. He would have to come within his rain territory if he wanted to attack him. At that distance missing with the charge shot wasn’t in question. He was surprised at the athleticity that the young necromancer had displayed. Yet, what was Brawn's use for a necromancer?

  Nate closed the distance within the building as much as he could. Reaching the opposite doorway, rain thudded against the sandy ground and it was fast turning into a disgusting slurry. He measured the distance to the next building. He wasn’t quite within the area of effect for the bite. He would have to rely on the next building for cover. The problem being he’d have to pass through the rain and out into the open.

  Going down into a low stance he rocketed forward into a mad dash. An undulating sound wave akin to a thunder clap washed over the land. Another flash of light hurdled past Nate. As it passed by he caught a glimpse, a jet of purple tinted water. Having aimed for a head shot Francis miscalculated the speed he would be going.

  The edge of the rain came down like a curtain and Nate reached up his left arm, summoning out a stack of two of the teeth. The makeshift shield began to sizzle the moment the rain made contact. Nate was counting the time as he reached ten seconds he reached the new entryway and a blast of pressurized water struck the side of the wall. It was powerful but didn’t leave a mark as it faded.

  Inside the long rectangular concrete building Nate didn’t take a moment to pause. His endurance from having to bike to work everyday was coming in handy here. A single window was lined up close to the exit. It would be in range for a full bite from Lupita but it was an obvious place for his enemy to shoot him from.

  Outside Francis stood in the middle of the rain a seven foot radius around him blocking the rain from touching his skin. Nate slid to a stop just under the window. The Poppet reflected everything you would have on your person so he lifted up his phone. Using the selfie mode to peek out of the corner of the window. A shot of intense water smashed through the glass.

  Shards rained down on his head as the acidic water slammed into the wall luckily it was a large enough room that none settled onto Nate. He counted to five and returned the camera to the window. Five more seconds passed and then another stream struck the gaping hole that was once a window. This time taking the phone along with the spray. Nate walked to the doorway, his plan forming clearly in his mind.

  A Transmigration Progression Fantasy

  LitRPG Transmigration Progression Anti-Hero Lead Grimdark High Fantasy Local Protagonist Non-Human Lead

  Death is a minor setback for the Night Lich.

  Quill, commander of the Rotten Scourge and the most feared necromancer of the Westlands, is cornered by the Circle mages. In a final act of defiance, he casts a soul-transfer, only to awaken in the frail body of an elf orphan with his Black magic stripped away.

  Yet fate grants him an ironic gift: a rare White Core fractured by Black. Creation is stained with death and decay, but when light meets darkness, it instead births something strange. Something unique. Something unstoppable.

  Quill will claw his way back to power, forging a new army with centuries of forbidden knowledge. He’ll master reanimation along with creation–and this time, revenge will be absolute.

  But dancing with death always comes at a price, and the Forgotten World doesn't take kindly to a missing soul.