Little needed to be said of that night and the next morning, as it was the sa as what had gone on previously, though there was decidedly more excitent in the air. The place had bounced back now that the ho team was only down two with a real shot at tying it, or so the local thinking went. Beth was pretty sure Kris was gong to scorch whoever she was against, which would put paid to that, and then Veren would slice apart the last fighter without effort and take them up by four, but that was what the day was for. The entertainnts held little interest for any of them as they anticipated the fight, and Beth was relieved when Kris was called up to have the ninth bout of the series.
The opponent that had drawn against Kris was a short man with a thick beard and sothing of a barrel body. He used a pair of heavy hamrs, which was quite obvious from the fact he had them equipped on his belt as he entered the dueling field, and Beth was interested to see how exactly he fought. The ref went through the start and the man charged as soon as the ref dropped his hand, bursting towards Kris with so kind of charging skill that accelerated him to a crazy degree. It was hard to gauge from just a single attack, but Beth didn't rate the man all that highly, as he was using a skill and was still not all that fast. True, the skill could focus on the power the strike after delivered or on reducing the damage the person using it took, but he was moving rather slowly, and that wasn't even taking into consideration her current level of power and perception. Even to the rest of her team, she was sure the man didn't look all that fast, but maybe there was so kind of trick to it.
Kris responded to his charge by creating a massive pool of water between them that the man ran into and started plowing through, the water spuming up in great rooster tails behind him as he moved. Kris followed that with ten blasts of void lightning all at the sa ti, the force of her spells enough that it was more like blows from the man's hamrs slamming into him rather than re mana. The bolt raining down like the wrath of an angry god stopped the man in his tracks, which sort of put to rest that his skill was much more than an amped up basic charge skill. Kris didn't give the man a chance to regroup, weaving together a combination of spells that started firing almost as soon as she began the casting. Bolts of lightning slamd down while a massive vortex of water ford from the pool, dragging the man in and starting to spin him around despite his best efforts to resist.
Unlike the last few fights, this fight was more reminiscent of the first couple, and Beth could see the very mont the opposing team realized they'd lost. It was still a dozen seconds or so before Kris finished the fight and knocked the man out, quite literally, though that was a nicer ending than a lot of fights had with deathblows determining the victor. The man was just never able to overco what was a massive, continuous, imnsely powerful attack by Kris that also had a terrific controlling effect. Her use of water and force to move and rebuff opponents was quite skillful and was the way she was able to operate solo as a caster. She was more exceptional with that versus many other casters, a lot of whom really didn't worry about controlling or blocking effects nearly as much, and Kris could use water to own the space around her on the battlefield in an incredible way. There were, of course, counters for what were essentially Kris's counter, and sobody like Beth that specialized in spatial magic could largely negate Kris's area effects, but sobody that didn't have those movent options almost had no choice but to get caught out.
With that, the match was decided, but they had one fight left to go and they also had the midroll entertainnt to sit through. Before that even started, the elf that led the other team walked out onto the floor, and Beth thought that he was about to concede the match and maybe offer a short explanation. What she got instead, to everyone's surprise, was a level of vitriol she hadn't expected and what she thought of as a classic mistake brought about by overconfidence. Even she had to wince by the end of his little spiel.
"This is the team you were proclaiming as your rookies, ogre?" he sneered. "This was clearly a brazen setup, and our fighters will not be undone by such tricks. To think that soone with seniority at the CRA would offer such a petty ruse to win a valuable prize. I am of a mind to formally request a rescindnt of the entire series. You have clearly engineered a victory using a stall team to beat an actual novice team that we fielded in good faith. I question your judgent and the way in which these proceedings were even set up."
Baelvyr didn't answer right away, but slowly stood from the end of the row of seats they had claid down on the arena floor on one side of the dueling field. Her ntor finished gaining his feet and, as he did so, thick plates of red and gold armor coated his body, shifting into place in near silence, with only a little grinding as so of the joints snapped together. When the armor was in place, Baelvyr towered to the point his head was close to even with the first ring of spectators up in the stands, a true colossus of adamantine and death. He took a step forward and a massive pressure crashed down on the entire arena, tens of thousands of people, from the audience to all the fighters spread around the floor, to the refs, to even the elf, feeling the weight of his power weighing them down. As he took a second step, his power blood and crushed down on everyone, a mountain on their shoulders, a terrible strength compressing the air and rending the surroundings. The tal plates of the arena floor buckled under Baelvyr as he walked, not from his weight, but twisting and crushing in on themselves from the sheer power that billowed from him.
Beth's team, while shielded slightly from his force, which he was very clearly doing actively, also proving his great control, still felt the crushing mass of his foretold doom pressing down. Beth herself, even without activating it, was shielded from Baelvyr because she stood on a similar level as he did. She could have pretended to be crushed like the others, but for one, she didn't care to pretend to be a sheep to please the other lambs, and for two, most people were struggling holding onto their consciousness, let alone watching what she was doing. Even the elf that had just called Baelvyr out in a way that was really unwise was struggling, trying to remain upright and impassive as the ogre approached. It would have been quite comical to Beth if it wasn't both frustrating and more than a little sad, watching as Baelvyr towered over the elf, leaning down, far down, to bring his face level with the man.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on , not stolen versions.
"What ya just said questions my honor," Baelvyr stated coldly. "Are ya prepared to back up those words with yer life?"
Despite his rough speech, and mannerisms, nobody was laughing or mocking, those that were still even conscious. It was very clear what he was saying, and what he was implying, and it was also clear that there were two, and only two, choices that could be made. The elf could either back down, admit he was wrong, lose dignity and standing, and give in to the intimidation, or he could have Baelvyr assist in making sure he never got the chance to reach Exalted. Beth thought, casually leaning back with an arm around Sera's shoulders, that the elf would just be the kind of person stupid enough to care far more about his pride than his life, but the long, drawn out mont eventually ended when the elf blinked first, lowering his head and backing down. Well, there was only ever going to be one outco when sobody, especially sobody like him, challenged a man with a Champion Sobriquet, but so people lived a bit too long without any pushback and needed a firm reminder from ti to ti.
Suitably cowed, the elf had to retract his bold proclamation and run back ho with his tail between his legs. The last fight was still going to happen, of course, as the audience couldn't be denied their entertainnt and the fighters were prepped and ready, though Beth was doubtful either of them was eager. The opposing fighter knew both that it didn't matter all that much if they won and they knew their boss, or even boss's boss, just got humiliated publicly, which was more than a bit demoralizing. Still, they got themselves up and into the arena after the entertainnt had, rather timidly, sorted themselves out and put on an abbreviated intermission performance. Beth didn't really pay much attention, too busy razzing Baelvyr about his response, which made every single other person there give her so serious side-eye energy, but she was used to it. Both giving Baelvyr shit and ignoring other's opinions.
The last contestant on the enemy team was another of their ringers, quite likely, as it was a big man that had heavy gauntlets and sabatons on, baggy pants made of so kind of dark leather, and his torso and arms bare. He was clearly a very punchy type, keeping with what Beth had sensed as sothing of a the for the other team, and he stretched out after entering the dueling field, letting the audience admire his rippling muscle. Veren stood across from him, wearing a new set of armor that Beth hadn't seen yet; it was reminiscent of his last set, which made her think he had had the sa smith work on it, but it was a dark blue in many places with gold sections on the arms and legs. His sword was still the sa, and he unsheathed it and held it ready before him after he entered the starting circle, closing his eyes and waiting for the fight to begin. The opponent smashed his hands together in anticipation as the ref went through the starting procedures and had a massive grin as the ref counted them in.
When the ref said go, three things happened, in order. First, the man with the massive grin charged at Veren, anticipation at getting to punch an opponent lighting up his eyes. Second, Veren swung his sword a single ti, not even bothering to open his eyes. Third, the opponent's face morphed from his bright grin and shining eyes to a look of focused determination and just a little bit of a fear. That single slash from Veren split apart space in front of him, though it was nothing to do with spatial mana. It was sothing interesting for Beth, in that it was just an attack that damaged the space around it as it passed, as if an attack that damaged space was 'just' anything. The muscular man with his heavy gauntlets was able to deflect the slash, if barely, and the effort it cost him was quite obvious. Not only that, but his gauntlets had deep slashes on the back of each of them where the slice had dug terrible furrows into the thick armoring on the back of the wrist and forearm. The craziest part of it all was that that was just a warmup strike for Veren.
Which is what he proved with the next attack, looping his blade around and slashing, the movent of his sword looking slow but happening fast, his extraordinary skill shining through. Overall, his movents weren't that fast, not pushing the boundaries of what was possible with speed as Blood was wont to do, but they were deceptive in that they looked much slower than they were. The slash that he produced was targeting the large man from more than a dozen feet away, Veren having never moved, but the danger was very real. Glistening lights swept from the edge of his blade, whining brilliantly and resonant in a way that made the entire arena hum. The score of energy attacks spun and twisted, converging on a single point no bigger than a pinhead in the center of Veren's opponent's torso, threatening to cleave him into dozens of pieces if he didn't block.
"Fuckin' kid. He's got it, tha little bastard," Baelvyr, having resud his seat next to Beth, on the opposite side of Sera, muttered.
"The hell does that an?" Beth asked, watching the dueling field intently.
"He's a real prodigy," Baelvyr grunted in response. "I only taught 'em for a couple days, just doin' a bit of the more advanced crap ya do when ya start to reach the higher levels of mastery. He took that shit and built on top of it, understandin' the whole point of the lesson, not just the lesson itself. Big kid he's fightin' knows what he's doin', but he ain't no match, even if Veren weren't on the edge of transcendin'. If he had sobody pushin' him, he'd do it for sure this fight. He still might, just gonna be harder without sobody or sothin' worthy."
Beth understood what he was saying, having never taken her eyes off the fight, and watched as the exchange continued as it started. It beca very clear very quickly that Veren wasn't trying to win, which would normally be a complicated jumble of things amongst everyone there, with the audience and the enemy team frustrated and upset and aggravated. None of that happened here, however, as even the anest and lowest of observer understood there was sothing happening in the fight, sothing in the dueling field occurring that very, very few people ever got to witness. There was an energy, indefinable, transcendent, impeccable and perfect, that perated the entire arena, the entire space station, and it felt like a river suddenly caught by a dam unexpectedly, if only that river were made of comprehension and enlightennt, not water. Beth dove into that feeling, not the only one by far, but her propensity to have occasional monts of brilliance lending itself to her grasping a greater understanding.
Veren wasn't in a hurry, but neither was anybody else, even his opponent, and it felt like the entire arena held its breath. The enemy team fighter rose to the mont, sothing that was a bit unexpected for Beth, but he matched Veren's energy, not in terms of raw skill or that mystical mont that was building, but he dove in at full strength, going blow-for-blow with the prodigy, giving everything he had to block a devastating attack before firing off a mighty assault of his own. Beth could literally feel the man pushing his Mana Physique to the limit, drawing as much mana as possible for every attack, using his Presence to bolster the output of each skill he used to the maximum. Even with all that, a masterful performance of its own, Baelvyr proved right, as he always did. Veren defeated the man before he could really grasp it, the mont fading almost imdiately, even before Baelvyr or anyone else could jump in to push him forward through that last, thinnest of mbranes to the next state.
Reviews
All reviews (0)