Drew Armstrong is still gloriously, infuriatingly Level 1—and the city just invited him to an open tournament built for spectacle. Nobles want clang. Sponsors want blood. Drew wants a clean seat and a signed receipt.
He enters with no blades, no ropes, no head hits… and starts winning anyway—on timing, angles, and a grip that turns monsters and showboats into polite furniture. When a champion in full plate steps into the ring, Drew does the unthinkable: unbuckles with consent on the rule board and helps the man sit with dignity. The crowd learns there are louder things than applause—like a room that breathes together.
While the side hustlers peddle ‘priority sightlines,’ the Guild of Bare Knuckles posts knee-height law, logs every moon on the Cup Rail, and teaches caravans how to keep bridges honest. By the time the drums die, contracts are falling like rain—and the road is calling.
You’ll love this if you enjoy:
He enters with no blades, no ropes, no head hits… and starts winning anyway—on timing, angles, and a grip that turns monsters and showboats into polite furniture. When a champion in full plate steps into the ring, Drew does the unthinkable: unbuckles with consent on the rule board and helps the man sit with dignity. The crowd learns there are louder things than applause—like a room that breathes together.
While the side hustlers peddle ‘priority sightlines,’ the Guild of Bare Knuckles posts knee-height law, logs every moon on the Cup Rail, and teaches caravans how to keep bridges honest. By the time the drums die, contracts are falling like rain—and the road is calling.
You’ll love this if you enjoy:
- Creative, technical fights (no gore, all craft)
A working-class hero who refuses the easy win
Found-family banter, tea diplomacy, and quiet triumphs
World rules that actually matter—read before you pay
Chairs before blades. Roads next.
Grab Festival of Fists now—start reading today
Genre: Science Fiction
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Used availability for Craig Zerf's Festival of Fists