Irun, for whatever reason, didn't dash in as he normally did during our training days together. Instead, he held his ground, carefully eyeing the alternate in front of him. They began to circle each other, but I noticed something strange. The alternate was mimicking his movements but using the opposite limbs to move.
"It's like he's fighting a mirrored version of himself," I said, realizing what was happening. "A good observation, but how are you going to combat that?" Kalia asked, prompting me to consider different possibilities.
The alternate carefully watched Irun, but the ravenous grin on its face told me that it was ready for him. Irun dashed forward, beginning a swing from the top right, which the alternate opposed with its own from the bottom left. Even without using mana, there was enough force to create a shockwave that spawned from their blades, kicking up some of the ashen dust from the floor.
To say I was impressed at his strength would've been an understatement.
Irun swung again and again, but each time, the blow was matched from the opposite angle, matching up perfectly with every strike. As far as I could tell, Irun's approach was probably to wear it down, but no matter what he did during the fight, the alternate seemed to keep pace perfectly.
How the hell are you supposed to beat that? I thought as I observed the battle.
Irun suddenly jumped in the air, prompting the alternate to slide beneath his jump, deflecting the strike with near-perfect precision. While Irun landed ready to strike again, the alternate was just a little slower to recover from its slide, allowing Irun an opening to land a blow.
The alternate barely had time to deflect the incoming strike aimed at its clavicle, pushing Irun's sword away just enough to carve a piece of flesh from its shoulder. Irun began a flurry of attacks, knowing the wounded creature wouldn't be able to respond to all of them as he hammered down on the wounded side.
With a final grunt of exertion, Irun landed the blow he was looking for, slicing the alternate at a diagonal angle, spewing black blood as its body fell in two different directions. The crowd roared with cheers and sounds of armored hands beating the plates on their chests as Irun severed the alternate's head, holding it high in the air for all to see.
"Well done, Irun Mothac," Kalia said almost to herself. Ysevel and I both chimed in with the crowd, clapping and cheering loudly to show our support. While Irun and I may have had our disagreements, there was no denying he'd transformed into an excellent fighter under Kalia's tutelage.
"Ysevel, after this announcement, you're the next in line to fight. Thoma, you'll go last," she said to the both of us as we were cheering. "Make us proud," she said with an air of expectancy.
Irun lowered the head as he turned towards our viewing box, prompting Kalia to rise from her seat, and walk towards the edge of the box. "Irun Mothac, you have proven yourself both to me and those of the Iron Plume clan. We welcome you as an honorary member from this cycle forward!" she said, spreading her arms widely.
Irun raised his sword high into the air above his head and let out a battle cry that prompted the crowd to cheer along with him as the alternate's body parts were gathered up and taken away. Kalia gestured for Ysevel to rise from her seat and stand beside her at the front of the box, looking over the arena.
"Ysevel from the kingdom of Caegwen in the Between is the next in line for this glorious Davu dugo Guva! Witness her as you have those who have come before!" Kalia shouted, eliciting more cheers as Ysevel set her elven sword to the side and came down from the stand, leaping over the guardrail into the arena.
As soon as she landed, she reformed the blade from her wrist and held it out with a single arm in an open guard. "Bring out the opponent!" Kalia shouted as another gate on the far side of the arena opened up, revealing her own alternate.
Her alternate held a similar stance to that of Irun's, but because Ysevel had already raised her sword, it responded accordingly with its own. I could tell Ysevel wasn't nervous at all, as there was little movement of her blade, even as she walked towards her target.
Her calm and composed nature during combat even left me uneasy during our training sessions with Siraye, as she always proved to be a formidable opponent. "Begin!" Kalia commanded, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Ysevel dashed forward within a heartbeat of the command being given while the alternate matched her speed perfectly. The confidence in her strikes was a beautiful thing to see, as her dance-like combat style was more than evident within the first few moments of the fight. She aimed a strike at its gut and then another at its neck in rapid succession, but not so fast that I couldn't follow along with it.
She's doing the same thing Irun did, but using combat instead of circling to gauge her opponent, I thought, observing the flurry of beautiful strikes.
Ysevel struck from above, then again from the side, but each time, feeling the deflected strikes growing closer and closer to her target. The alternate's mirrored counters were perfectly timed, but Ysevel began to change her pace of attacks, throwing a feint to the left and then attacking from above. The blow nearly landed, but the creature was still able to block her sword in time.
"Come on, Ysevel," I muttered, gripping the edge of my seat. She struck again and again, but each attack was deflected just in time. "Just a little bit faster, Ysevel, come on!" I muttered again through gritted teeth.
It was difficult to fight for a long time without reinforcing your body with mana, but I knew Ysevel to be a fantastic fighter who spent decades, if not centuries, training with my mother.
I could tell she was done testing the limits of the creature because she began picking up the speed of her attacks. Each successive strike was carefully aimed and calculated, and the results of her training were showing as chunks of flesh began to fall from the alternate's body, soaking the ground in blackened blood.
With a final grunt of exertion, she managed to disarm the alternate by knocking the blade out of its hand with an upward strike, sending it high into the air. She redirected her momentum into a spin and severed the alternate's head cleanly from its shoulders as the black blood fountained from the stump.
Without even looking back at the fallen body, the alternate's sword that was once in the air plummeted rapidly and landed point-first into the gaping hole of its esophagus.
She turned that thing into a fucking meat skewer and didn't even bother to look at her handiwork? I'm never topping that, am I? I thought as I chuckled to myself in amazement at her skill.
"And the victor is Ysevel of Caegwen!" Kalia announced as the crowd began cheering and beating the plates on their chest. Like Irun, she held her blade high in the air and gave a steadfast look to the crowd before turning to face our viewing box.
"Ysevel of Caegwen has proven her strength in a way I have not seen in over twenty thousand cycles. We of the Iron Plume Clan acknowledge your strength and welcome you to our home," Kalia said, gesturing for me to rise and approach the arena.
"As for our final guest of the day, I realize that many of you may not agree with my decision to bring him here," she began to address the arena. "However, it is my wish that we respect Lord Gravar's assessment of him and see if he really has the strength that our fallen lord saw in him," she said, opening her arms widely.
"Thoma Fayren, son of Siraye Fayren, who slayed Lord Gravar in glorious combat, is here with us today," she announced, getting a few scattered gasps from the crowd. "I, myself, have looked into his core and assessed his strength and let anyone who wishes to challenge me on this matter say so now," she said.
Not a single sound could be heard from the arena as soon as the words left her mouth.
"Thoma, you may enter the arena," she said, looking over to me. "I hope you've learned something from the previous fights, and I look forward to your performance," she muttered before giving me a nod of reassurance. "I'll do my best, my lady," I said with a bow before hopping over the railing down below and into the arena.
"Bring out the opponent!" she shouted, prompting a third gate to open on the far side. I reformed the kataki from my wrist into the blade it once was, tipping the point forward as I brought the hilt up to the level of my cheek.
I could see its eyes and unnerving smile reflecting the small amount of light that made its way into the darkened entrance. As it stepped out, I immediately noticed something was different about it.
Shit, it's not standing crookedly at all. Is mine somehow different from Ysevel's or Irun's? I thought, furrowing my brow as I felt a bead of sweat beginning to creep down my face.
It stood there, holding its blade down to its side as the point trailed behind it, maintaining its unnerving stare directly at me. "Begin!" I heard Kalia give the command as the crowd begged for violence.
Whether it was directed towards me or the alternate, I didn't know or have the time to consider.
Alright, shit-ass. I haven't gone through the hell I have to get here to make this last any longer than it needs to. Your life or mine. Let's dance, fucker, I thought just before dashing in, kicking up a small cloud of ashen dust as my left foot pushed off the ground.
Shifting my guard a little to allow for better movement, I noticed the alternate was still acting like the others that came before it, mirroring its defense to whatever attack I had planned.
I struck from above, then immediately from below, and then the side in rapid succession, feeling my blade meet my alternate's as though I were fighting a training dummy. Again and again, I pushed forward, keeping it on the back foot as much as possible while maintaining a rapid striking pace.
The arena came alive as they saw me begin to push it back, and I could have sworn I heard Ysevel and Irun shouting from the viewing box to cheer me on. I continued my barrage of strikes, each one aimed with the precision and accuracy that I'd acquired both in Codrean and Caegwen under the tutelage of my family.
The alternate was keeping pace with my attacks as it mirrored each one deftly, but I began to feel something was different about this one. As we neared the edge of the arena, it suddenly jumped backward and pushed off the arena wall, aiming a dashing strike at my neck.
What the fuck just happened? I thought, barely deflecting the blow in time.
"It seems you mistook me for being like the others," it said in a gurgling voice a few octaves lower than my own as it began to circle around me.
It speaks? I thought momentarily before getting back into my guard.