Iron sands shifting beneath his feet, crunching and sliding with a strange hissing sound. The sound of many particles of metal being pushed together, similar to the sound of snow being stepped on, but more grating. Under the beating sun he marched onwards, one hand behind his back tucked behind his gladius. Beads of sweat forming on his face, soaking his rather bushy eyebrows and his mustache. Solomon rose to the top of a hill, every step carefully placed into the sands to ensure he doesn't slide, from his vantage point he glared over the locale.

Inside of his mind he swore, cursing his stupidity. Of course nobody would come here, not many people have the kind of balance he does. Keeping yourself from slipping into the sands would be an arduous task for anyone else, that's why there's nobody else in the desert. This was the one place where he could ensure victory against inexperienced warriors, he hadn't predicted the inexperienced would just opt to avoid the desert at all costs.

Solomon bowed his head and sighed, shaking his head side to side in frustration."Fiddlesticks and tarnation, can't an old man get a break?"

From the north, a sand cloud was approaching.. or rather, a trail of sand was being kicked up because Killstreak Von Leetus was walking really, really, fast, and the sand couldn't handle the pace. He was reviewing some documents that Arthur had undoubtedly emailed him by now, popping it directly into his inventory, describing the various areas of the realm. This desert was supposedly treacherous and vile, prone to engulf unwary fools in quicksand. A dangerous area indeed..

You know, unless the fool in question interacted with the world as if it was 20 times as slow as it really was. Then, quicksand didn't really seem like much of a problem. The sun was more of a problem, but he had taken the liberty of equipping his shades, so no biggie.

Just as the documents said, there was a Warrior-looking guy here already, and by the looks of it, he was one of the "extremes" being mentioned. Not that Killstreak knew what an extreme was, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He stopped 10 meters short of Solomon, both of his guns still in his inventory, and spoke loudly; "1 Hav cum to kick 455 and chew b0bl3gUm, and 1 am all out of b0bl3gUm." - "Come at me bro."

It was nothing new to Solomon to see a speedster approaching him at alarming speeds, speedsters are a stunningly commonplace sight in the Arena. Generally they compete with eachother, seeing which is faster. And then there's always this argument that speedsters are unbeatable, which Solomon never really agreed with. Speedsters aren't particularly dangerous to someone who pays attention, it sort of helps that almost every speedster he's ever met is slower than his eyes can percieve.

This one was moving just below the speed of sound, about a hundred or so mph less Solomon assumed. The distance between them snapped closed like the mouth of a snapping turtle, this speedster showed respectable ability, though he was only about twice as agile as Solomon. The elderly man looked down upon him, noticing an incredibly flashy outfit. Gold and satin, not the outfit of a fighter, this was the outfit of an upper-classman. Within a few moments, Solomon had already built an assumption of who this boy was.

Upper-classman taught in 'perfect' fighting form, given weapons he was likely not properly trained in, told that he was special, and let out into the world where he would think that he's a great warrior. The superhuman ability may help him along, but one good look at Leetus told Solomon he was little more than a pest nipping at the heels of real warriors.

And then, oh sweet jesus, and then he spoke. The words that left Leetus's mouth were barely coherent, in fact, Solomon could have sworn he somehow replaced letters with numbers somewhere in that sentence. The monk was stunned, his mouth opened slightly to respond but nothing came out. Solomon's right hand rose up to his lips, he placed his index finger's knuckle inbetween his lips. Not a single word came to his mind that would be a proper response to what Leetus said.

Killstreak let off a smirk and put his hands forward, in a nonthreatening manner, both fists closed. His fingers snapped, and the pointy finger of each hand shot forward, pointing at Solomon, as Killstreak's upper body leaned slightly backwards. "Ey!.. Quiet type, eh?" - He said, jokingly, as both of his golden revolvers materialized into his hands, and he pulled the trigger once for each of em. Firing off two explosive bullets at Solomon, one at his right elbow, the other at his left knee. Should the bullets, for some reason, find their mark and embed themselves within his body, the results would be.. truly limb-devastatingly bloody.

Two guns, two shots, aimed for the joints of his arm and leg. At least the novice knew that much about combat, something that many novices don't grasp immediately. The bullets flew from the chamber of the gun, chased by the explosion of pressure and heat. The round spun through the air, a trail of vibrating wind chasing behind. Solomon twisted his body only slightly, turning his form 90 degrees to the right, moving both his knee and elbow out of the line of fire. Tilting his body backwards just a little bit to avoid the bullets accidentally clipping his gut or the back of his legs.

The bullets whipped past him, Solomon's eyes traced the rounds as they flew past. When they had safely whiffed him he turned his attention back to the boy, withdrawing his gladius calmly. "I'm not as quiet as you'd think, punk." Across his elderly face a smile grew, revealing his numerous missing teeth. "I'm Solomon Ross, known as the Extreme of Training. Honestly received the dumbest title of the Extremes."

The older man looked down at his feet for a moment, lowering the gladius. A sigh passing his lips as a realization washes across him. "Ugh, I'm realizing you're going to be a nightmare to fight. Hey, can you come over here closer to me so this is easier? Walking down the hill after I just walked up it isn't good for my back."

The two gunshots were just the initiation. The cheese on top of the mouse trap. A carrot on a stick. A move that was carried out with the purpose of identifying the combat prowess of his opponent, as well as to lock down his movement and trap him against Killstreak's follow-up. The next move after that would end the fight entirely, if Solomon could even survive this one.

As the bullets reached Solomon's position on both sides of him, he was essentially boxed in, and so sideways movement would momentarily be next to impossible, unless he was as fast as Killstreak, which would be nice to discover at a safe distance, and not up close and personal.

With both of his guns pointed in their original position, Killstreak started firing them both rapidly, while moving his left arm in a downwards horizontal swing towards the right, and his right sweeping downwards to the left, making an X pattern. Since his movements were carried out at 20x speed , his sweeping motion was faster than the movement of the bullets, and so instead of firing a single bullet at a time, the guns would instead produce two steady lines of bullets in front of him that would travel forward in an X pattern, hitting in-between the space his two previous bullets were aimed for. If they were to hit their mark, Solomon's body would likely be cut to pieces, then the bullets would explode.

The timing of his follow-up volley to his first two shots, were so that the X patterned volley was fired when the first two bullets were right next to Solomon. Since the two combatants were at a distance of 10 meters between each-other, Solomon had roughly 0.025 seconds to react to Killstreak's follow-up. Since Killstreak was already aiming his guns at the starting points, the guns being fired (which would seem like rapid machine gun fire to outside sources) were the only heads-up to the oncoming attack he would get. As for bullet count, roughly between 15 to 20 bullets were fired.

Will Solomon survive!? Tune in on the next breathtaking episode of.. Pwnz0r-TV!

Since aerodynamics and acceleration are still a thing, the gap between the previous and current bullets still exists. Albeit a small gap, a gap is more than enough for Solomon. With his left leg directly in front of him, it would seem rather inoportune for one to try and evade to his side. However, Solomon slid his left leg outwards to the right and leaned forward, lifting his right leg and pulling it in the same direction. The previous bullets had passed and the second wave was fast approaching.

Solomon would be incapable of escaping the bullets inscathed, however, no wound would be fatal or incapacitating. The two bullets on the far right side of the cross clipped into his side and the upper portion of his calf as he raised it. The bullet that clipped his side undid the strap that holds his hakapik, the hooked blade dropped to the ground and stuck into it. The flesh above his kidney was torn open. The bullet exploded on its way out, tearing a circular wound in his side that exposed the fatty tissue beneath his skin. Blood gushed more freely from the larger wound.

The leg wound was a bit less serious as it only clipped his skin through his pant leg. It ripped the cloth away, tearing a long strip off that went limp as it passed by.

Solomon reached to his waist and pulled off a non-essential strap and tied it around the wound on his side. Applying pressure on it to prevent it from bleeding. It's a shame that this boy had gotten even a single hit on him.

(I'll leave this one short, as there isn't much deviation from the previous attack, and no counter-attack is attempted)

Seeing Solomon pop a foot out to his right to move out of the way of the oncoming swarm of bullets, Killstreak chuckled, and aimed his right gun carefully at Solomon's ankle, which took him less than a fraction of a second to do. Firing it repeatedly just as the extreme's right foot rose from the ground to join the other, intending to blast it clean off. It was worth noting that each shot fired with those revolvers produced two bullets, as it had two barrels on top of each other.With a yawn, he deported his left-hand revolver into his inventory while still firing a steady stream of bullets with his right, and withdrew the communication device that Arthur Greystoke had sent him prior to his arrival at the tournament grounds. A "Cellphone" was what he had called it. He scrolled through his contact list, which was very small, and selected "Mr.Greystoke" - before composing a text message, which was the apparent technical term.

"Sup? Hf U k1LL3d t3h n00bz y3t?!?11+"

He glanced over at Solomon. The spray of bullets was closing in on his ankle.

"Pwn1ng a n3wb in t3h d3s3rt. lawl."

He pulled up the phone and took a picture of Solomon, during the exact moment of which the bullets would hit his ankle. He saved it, and sent it to Arthur with the caption "G3tt1ng Rekt."

With a groan, the elderly man shifted his right hand ever so slightly. The halberd from his back appeared in his hand upside down, and the gladius returned to its sheathe in its place. With its wide flat blade, the halberd provided a rather efficient tool for planting into the ground. And its length was just as useful. Solomon pushed down with his right hand, placing the blade between his foot and the bullets and lifting his right foot upwards. Solomon used the halberd as a stilt to lift his ankle out of the path of Leetus's assault. The bullets did, however, strike the blade of his halberd and explode. Tearing the handle from the blade with their explosion and force.

With a deep sigh he looked at the man who was still down the hill, just a little outside of his reach. Solomon's feet touched down as the now broken halberd vanished from his hand, replaced by the leather sling. Pre-loaded with a pair of stones. This boy was starting to get on his nerves, so cock sure of himself, and with no particular skill. Honestly, if he didn't know any better, he would think that he was somehow cheating.

Solomon began winding up the sling, swinging it around and around by his side. "Boy, you are beginning to aggravate me."

Killstreak whipped up his arm and shot a single shot perfectly aimed at the rotating sling, aiming to cut it loose.

"Shh, I'm texting." He said, still looking down at the phone.

Solomon grinned, releasing the front half of the sling and letting the two stones out from the sling. The pair of stones exploded from the simple leather strap, a sonic boom immediately erupting behind them as they left at well beyond mach 2. The first of the stones struck the bullet in a passing glance, exploding on contact, sending shards of stone out in a cone around the point of impact. The second stone passed the explosion and sailed towards where Killstreak was standing, hopefully striking the phone in his hands as a reply to his attempt at breaking his sling.