The sound of steam from the pipes bursting, mechanical structures creaking and chugging, and the distant sounds of the crowd cheering all filled my ears in this moment. My nose welcomed the smell of metal in the air and arena as I stood there with my hands in my pockets, hinting at the faint cologne smell off my Black Wolves jacket that Belle bought for me the other day. A mix of rich mahogany and black rustic wood—it was surprisingly subtle despite its combo. I wondered if I could keep the scent on me for the whole Tournament without sweating it off. Maybe I could take Belle on more public dates, since everyone knew about us now…
My thoughts trailed as I spaced out and witnessed my opponent mouth off something. I wasn't even paying attention, but I caught the end of it… also... the hell was his name again?
"—then after this, I'll be promoted to Vice Captain of the Purple Panthers! Talk about the path being paved for me!"
I raised a brow at him, "That confident, huh? You really think you can measure up to Zeno?" I remarked.
He tilted his head down, and shadows formed over his eyes. "Don't ever…" he said in a low tone. I barely heard him at first… "Don't ever compare me to that sorry excuse for a Vice Captain!" he yelled at the end.
The crowd's cheers surrounded us, but his words were still audible to the nearest row behind him.
Back in the Warrior's Keep, where they were watching the match through projection screens, Zeno observed as the angle now focused on Wilren. He said nothing and kept a calm look on his face as his subordinate openly disrespected him. Ryo caught him from the corner of his eye, merely watching him quietly.
In the arena, Wilren continued, "I do not acknowledge him as my Vice Captain…"
I stared at him, saying nothing. I had remembered a month ago that Zeno had told us that he also chose to stay in the Kingdom to build morale and rapport with his team. It had seemed that not much progress was made… still… it made me angry that he felt that way toward his Vice Captain—one of my closest friends.
Wilren looked lost in thought at this time as he glared in my direction. I could tell his thoughts were brewing.
"I was top of my class…"
"Keeper, here we go… I didn't ask—"
***
Wilren's thoughts trailed, he began to think of all his accomplishments up till this point. He was a pristine mage from a well-off family. They could have been considered Royals, and they definitely saw themselves that way… Fairly spoiled and got whatever he wanted—without trying too hard. And it also didn't help that he was good at everything.
From his academics to his fighting prowess, in mage school, he was the top of his class. Pompous as he was, he had every right because no one could best him.
Later on, after his graduation, he was sought after by many magistral corporations. All were seeking him out to be a guard or even an intern to become a W.M.A. officer. He wanted none of that, though. His only goal was to be the leader of his own Guild in the Valley Kingdom.
Participating in the Kingdom's Guild Draft, he was easily recruited into the Purple Panther Knights. However, around this time, that's when things began to get a little stagnant…
Time passed, and he became a tenured member of the Guild, enough to earn him the title of 1st Executive… but it stopped there.
Time and time again, after two years of being in the Purple Panthers, the Vice Captain spot remained vacant. His patience was wearing thin, but he still looked up to Captain Tubolt, and remained patient. That is, until he came into the picture…
Three years later, a new subordinate joined the ranks of the Purple Panther Knights, a promising warrior and mage, but he was poor and his rags had tatters and holes in them. Though newer than he, this mage rose through the ranks and eventually became the Vice Captain of the Guild all within less than a year, and he went by the name Zeno.
At first, though slightly jealous, he thought that he had come from Royalty and was naturally gifted. He also expected his attitude to be more cross and maybe even arrogant… but he was not.
Everything about Zeno, after getting to know him, pissed him off… His humble attitude, his unsatisfactory background—coming from a poor family and the sticks, his easygoingness, and most of all, the fact that no matter his accomplishments, he always saw himself as still 'not good enough'.
Zeno's feats were much greater than his, and for him to still say that they are 'not good enough' was the cherry on top of it all. It made him feel like he was nothing compared to him.
"That naive smile. That modesty. I hate you for it… How dare you mock me by saying you are still 'not good enough'… What does that make me then? No… I am better than you. How dare you sit where you are and still not be satisfied… I was here first! I have accomplished twice as much, and yet you… Just because you have a honed ability and have completed missions on your own… I could have done that! I could have done that if Captain Tubolt had given me the chance! I was almost there too… if it weren't for you getting in the way, it would have been me as the Vice Captain of the Purple Panthers! Not you! How dare you act like it's still not enough? How dare you act meek! I will never accept you as my Vice Captain, you worthless, poor commoner!"
***
Greed:
I watched this fool mutter to himself for what seemed like minutes, but I'm sure it only felt that way with the announcer unironically taking his time to speak. I was starting to get bored… and hungry.
The sound of the announcer's voice echoed throughout the colosseum, initiating the start of the first match—our names and portraits of ourselves plastered on the center screens high above:
[Greed of the Black Wolf Knights vs. Wilren of the Purple Panther Knights]
"And with our fighters in the ring, ready, and the arena landscape set, let the first match of this year's Valley Tournament commence!!!"
The crowd roared, and Wilren's eyes widened. His head slowly began to rise high in a dramatic fashion. No hesitation, he dashed at a quick speed, swinging both large gray axes in front of him to cross slash down. The way he moved… it didn't seem like he had dashed at all… Rather, it seemed as if he was being pulled by some kind of force, letting him build up speed and ride the air.
I didn't move an inch. Hands still in my jacket pockets, I merely watched as he zoomed in. And then, as if he had paused mere seconds from impact, I heard him say, "I am the true Vice Captain of the Purple Panther Knights, not that poor, worthless commoner—Zeno. You got that? You damn mutt!"
I had planned to dodge just to prolong the match and win unsatisfactorily, but I wasn't appreciating his tone against my friend. So, just as quickly as he rushed in, I let him land the blow. The crowd cheered at the sight, anticipating the collision; however, when the cross slash connected a sharp clang was the only sound that filled the space.
The audience stopped their cheers, and jaws dropped. Eyes widened in disbelief, and in that moment, the entire Kingdom witnessed what Belle and the crew already knew.
Within the crowd, the first to cheer was Belle, followed by the rest of the Black Wolves crew. Then cheers from the rest of the crowd began to ripple throughout the colosseum.
Code even tilted his cap forward onto his eyes as if he knew the eyes of everyone around would start to flood towards them, too.
There in the center of the arena, both Wilren's steel axes had made direct contact with my neck and the side of my arm—hand still in pocket… I stood there unscathed as if nothing had happened and glowered at Wilren, whose eyes began to tremble slightly when they locked to mine.
"What the hell?" he said, his voice cracking… "What kind of spell?—"
My black, lazy eyes brewed a growing rage behind them as I said, "How dare you…" My head slowly rose with an intimidating glare that overpowered his. He twitched at the mere sound of my voice and the words that came next, "How dare you publicly disrespect your Vice Captain!"
My firmness caught him off guard, on top of the fact that his heavy axes did no damage to my bare skin at direct contact.
Startled, he withdrew his dual axes and stepped back with one leg. From where he stood, he repositioned his weapons and rained down a barrage of swings one after the other. He let out a charged, low grunt after each strike, putting all his effort into doing me harm, ignoring any and all protocol of a 'friendly match'.
My eyes shadowed, and my expression was unable to be seen from the rain of attacks. Then, amid the barrage, both axes broke into pieces and I stood there still with my hands in my pockets, unscathed. All that was left in both Wilren's hands now were the broken hilts of his dual weapons. And his look said it all as his trembling eyes began darting in place more viciously.
Impossible… I heard his thoughts. Again with this odd sensation… What kind of magic is this? He didn't even chant an incantation or move! What the hell is this!?
Then he said out loud, the thought escaping through his mouth, "Fine! You wanna play that game? I'll show you why I am the 1st Executive of the Purple Panthers!"
I glanced to the crowd somewhere behind him and caught Tubolt's face.
Minus Zeno, are all his subordinates like this? I thought as I observed him. He sat there stoic and without emotion. Completely different than how he had been a month ago during our brief encounter at the Guild Meeting.
It was then, Wilren hovered briefly from where he stood. The aura seeping from him bended the air and static sparked for seconds as he bolted to the side at exploding speed. It looked almost like he was flying through the air as he headed for a collision with an incoming mechanized building.
Just as I thought he would crash into it, a hole blew open through the building and the pieces that flew off scattered and began trailing behind him. He kept going and repeated the act as he headed toward another building, and then another, and then another, until what was following behind him was a cluster of heaping metal; and with each pass the metal he collected layered over him piece by piece.
He then stopped mid-air as the last of the fragments assembled and he was completely covered in it. And then a hand sign and incantation,
"Magnet Magic: Iron Arcane Knight!"
Right then, the metal clanged and all the bolstering pieces condensed into fitted armor all over him.
The Purple Panthers cheered as they witnessed Wilren take on this inspired form from their captain.
"Oh yeah! You asked for it now, mutt!"
"Bro is cooked! This match is basically over!"
"Get him Wilren! Finish him now!"
They shouted one after another.
"Time for you to meet your end,"—Wilren's eyes glowed red with intensity as he flexed his hand toward me—"useless dog!"
I remained glowering at him from below as a force overtook me and I bolted upward in his direction like I was being pulled.
Huh… he managed to move me. I thought in slight amusement.
I flew up to him as he gathered more metal pieces to his other hand. They collected, gently placing themselves to create an extension of his arm—to create a sword.
I finally took my hands out of my pockets and braced for impact, crossing my arms in front of me.
"My magic lets me turn anything I make contact with into a magnetic focal point. When I struck you earlier, you became one of those points, and I can control the positioning of any of the points I make. In other words—"
"I didn't ask."
"—you are under my control!"
He swung his giant metal blade down onto me and it crashed into my forearms, sending me back down onto the battlefield with a booming impact.
I lay in a crater the shape of my own body afterward. But just as quickly, I was picked up once again, this time flying to the side by magnetic force. He glided inches above the ground at top speed to meet me there with another slash and successfully made impact. I flew off to another section and he met me there again, repeating the motion all while keeping me within bounds of the ring. He was even taking advantage of my magnetism and clustering heaps of metal onto me every now and then, striking me from a distance with those as well.
Strike after strike I flew from one part of the ring to the other as my studying eyes darted in every direction. It wasn't that he was fast, rather, he was amplifying his push and pull to the point it looked like speed. A push to himself and a pull to me heading in the same direction from opposite sides to create a new focal point between us that we were both forced to move toward.
The screens above would at times project from inside the Warrior's Keep out to the audience. And within, some of the Guilds shouted and cheered, but there were mixed emotions. Ryo, Snow, Rex, and Zeno all held solemn looks. Nash simply held his head high and Jo seemed utterly bored, not even looking at the screen.
"I can create as many focal points as I choose!" Wilren said as clusters of metal smashed onto me repeatedly, creating a floating boulder in the sky. "No matter what you do, because I control you, I can create a new focal point from anywhere in this colosseum! There is nothing you can do! Just admit it, you lost! I am the better Knight! I am the better mage! I am more deserving of even your title! You and Zeno"—he came from below and his giant iron sword hummed behind him—"you're both fodder under my boot!—"
Just as he finished his sentence and he was mere inches away from his strike, the boulder exploded and I flipped around until our eyes caught each other for a tenth of a second. The sound of cheers stopped to us both and for a moment there was only silence followed by my words. It was like the world slowed just so that he could hear them.
"It's always you portentous types that think you have the right to step on others just because you have some skill. Did it ever occur to you that the reason Zeno became Vice Captain was because he was never content with his strength and he always needed to be stronger than he was?"
His eyes widened with his carried expression, teeth ground, smile fading, and time still seemingly slowed to us.
"Did it ever occur to you that you remain where you are because you refuse to grow? Because you think you have it all already?" I took my time making a fist with my already reeled back arm as I said lastly, "You've hit a ceiling you've yet to overcome. And I… am that ceiling."
My fist launched and struck his face at the same time his sword made contact with me, shattering upon impact like the dull blade it was.
My fist shattered his helm first and then as his face revealed to receive it next, his eyes whited out and I knew I slightly cracked his cheekbone. I didn't want to kill him—I'd be disqualified if I did. I just wanted a lesson that stuck.
He flailed all the way down and cratered the ground upon impact; his metal armor would be his cushion from that descend, and he uttered a restricted faaa from his lips at landing.
For a moment, the crowds cheering ceased, those who weren't paying much attention in the Keep at first, now glanced upward to witness my win. It was a tad showier than I had hoped, but maybe the spectators will just call it dumb luck.
All the while, Captain Tubolt watched from his section. He said nothing, did nothing, even as the crowd paused for a good moment. His crew seemed to be the ones dazed after seeing their 1st Executive getting 'cooked' less than a minute since the match started.
Confusion and silence spread like a disease throughout the colosseum.
I could tell even the announcer was stunned at the sudden outcome of the match, but Daz waved to him with his eyes closed and faint smirk, telling him to call the match already.
"And there you have it, folks! The winner of the Valley Tournament first round is… uh… Greed of the Black Wolf Knights!" he shouted as I was still suspended high in the air for a moment before soon landing.
A pack of cheers entered from one part of the colosseum only. It was Belle and the crew. And then ripples of cheers began to spread throughout the colosseum—though some were hesitant to, it was more a cheer for the show rather than for me. Oh well. I did my part.
***
From the Keep, the room was silent except for one cheer—which belonged to Nash, "WOOOO! YEAH! LET'S FUCKIN GO, BROTHER!" Uncaring that he was garnering attention.
At the same time, four others in the room held their smirks to the announcement. Happy with the turnout, but doing their best not to play favorites with others and their crew there.
Jo simply sat in a corner of the Keep, remaining unimpressed as she sucked on a popsicle with one eye closed and the other slightly open to the screen.
Zayden, Zeno's 2nd Exec, observed his Vice Captain's expression at this time. Studying it silently…
Still shouting, Nash's loud voice continued to sound off throughout the keep. Jo closed her eyes in irritation and said, "Could you pipe down, you big oaf! It wasn't that impressive."
Halting his cheers, Nash replied, "You could at least act like a supportive crewmate, Lil Jo…"
"That match was totally boring. If it was actually a challenge for him, maybe I'd care," she griped, "Ugh… such an unnecessary use of energy."
"Go to sleep then, I'll wake you when it's your turn," he said sarcastically.
"You'd be doing me a favor if you didn't."
The two continued to banter as other mages in the Keep prepared themselves in case it was their turn to go out to the arena. No one knew who they'd be facing off against in this next round. All any one of them could do now… was wait.
***
The Warriors' Keep was just underneath the arena, a few meters down. It was a classic stone-walled, stone-floored room that could hold a total of forty people. Aside from that, there were sofas and beds to rest, and even a few healer mages, a total of eight in the room on standby for those more critically wounded. In total, with the twenty-four contenders and the eight healers, there were a total of thirty-two individuals who occupied the Keep at this time.
Before the introductions of each participating Guild, the announcer stated a few rules that the colosseum would abide by to ensure that not only the audience would be safe and enjoy the show, but also the participants. The rules state as such:
Rule 1. The most obvious and typically an unspoken rule—no forbidden magic or moves that had an instant death effect. Such moves would not only disqualify the participant but also apprehend and take them to magistral prison.
Rule 2. All types of combat magic are allowed; however, if the spell gets out of control and becomes too much for the surrounding audience, there are two barriers: one protecting the audience and one protecting the participants in the arena. The barrier for the audience is cast by six mages on pillars at the highest points of the outer colosseum and the barrier around the arena for the participants was cast by one mage only—the Arcane King, Daz himself. Which was a nullifying magic barrier that nulls upon contact with it from the inside, so technically speaking, there should only be the use of that one barrier alone—in theory—One was to not imagine what kind of spell could outdo the Arcane King's magic…
And lastly, Rule 3. Should any murderous intent be sensed in the arena, the match will end immediately and that individual shall be arrested on the spot. There were about four Class S Sensory mages in the front of four different sections within the audience. If one of them senses this intent, they would know immediately. This was sensed from Wilren in the previous battle, however, Daz had let it pass since it was Greed in the ring with him… if this were to happen again, immediate protocol would be enforced.
These were the rules of the Tournament, and the hope was that all of these rules could be ignored if everyone played fairly. Aside from the first match, and with the selection of mages participating in this Tournament, there really was no need to worry about that from what it seemed…
I entered the Warriors' Keep through one of the many entrances. Immediately, I was greeted by Nash, who put his large, muscular arm over my shoulders, praising me triumphantly as I strolled in. Next, I was greeted by Jo who stood there with a bored look on her face. She held a hand out with an empty popsicle stick, waving it in my face, asking me if I wanted one by sole gesture.
"Why not." I said nonchalantly, answering before she even had to ask.
The sound of the announcer's voice went off in the background, recapping the last match as they morphed the arena back to its original, normal form, and had escort and healer mages cater to Wilren.
Same time, the popsicle stick froze and I took it as I walked past her and headed for one of the sofas in the place, preferably one with a view of one of the projection screens that floated in mid-air around the room.
As I sat in the middle of the couch, Nash joined me on the far left toward the end of the curved couch and Jo sat right next to me, looking as if she was ready to pass out once more.
When we situated, the announcer finally announced the second round's match-up, "And the next batch of fighters for this second round will be—Goro of the Snow Lily Knights and Zeke of the Crimson Dragon Knights!"
Both their faces flashed quickly at each other from opposite ends of the room. Goro, a burly, gray skin colored male just a bit taller than Nash, and Zeke of the Crimson Dragons, with baggy eyes that rivaled Henza of the ex-Blue Phoenixes, and just about as much enthusiasm as Jo. If they had a competition for who could fall asleep the fastest, I wondered who'd win… I've also heard he was quite sickly most times, which would explain the reason for his demeanor.
Regardless of how he seemed, he was still 2nd Vice Captain of the second highest-ranked Guild in the Kingdom—second under Ryo. I wondered to myself just how good he actually was.
Goro as well, also a 2nd Vice Captain of the Snow Lilies, a Rank 3 Guild. Not too far off from the accomplishments of the Crimson Dragons. He's been around as long as Asura has, yet I've never actually seen him in battle. I didn't know why, but I was eager to see him in this next round.
Two 2nd Vice Captains, being pitted against each other and my match over. Finally, I can relax for a bit.