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It was with an odd sense of calmness that Vir stepped into the waiting area for the tournament, and he couldn’t quite explain why.
The deafening crowd—louder by far than it had ever been for any previous duel—ought to have shaken him. The nerves of fighting one of the strongest beings in the realm—a fighter so famous, the arena was named after him—ought to have spooked Vir and left him shivering in his boots.
It didn’t.
The outcome of this duel might very well alter the future of the entire realm. Millennia from now, historians may look back and label this fight as the pivotal moment in demonic history. If Vir failed to gain Balancer of Scales, the consequences would be immense. Both for the rebellion, and for Vir’s perception as one worthy of restoring the Garga.
And yet, despite all of that, he was fighting Cirayus. His godfather, whom he’d fought countless times in the past. Fought… And lost against. Over and over again.
There was a certain understanding one gained from such loss. A certain intimacy with one’s opponent. Vir likely knew Cirayus’ strengths and weaknesses better than any being alive.
Because of that, and because he knew the giant would not be fighting with his lethal Chakras, Vir knew there was nothing to fear.
Fear stemmed from the unknown. Fear was born from hopelessness, and while Vir was also fighting with a handicap, he had an ace up his sleeve. An attack he reserved only for true foes, and one Cirayus that would never see coming. It was his trump card—his last resort.
With it, victory was, if not assured, at least probable. All that remained was to see if he could defeat the giant without it. And that would be fun.
The commentator called Vir’s name, and he stepped out onto the stage.
The stands were absolutely jam-packed. Even knowing where to find Ashani and Tara, Vir gave up. There was no picking out individuals in this throng of so many thousands.
It was as if the stadium itself had come alive, like some magnificent beast into whose maw he marched. Like a sacrificial offering. Except instead of meat and flesh, this particular animal consumed drama and close fights.
Well, they’ll certainly be getting that.
This would be the crowning bout of Vir’s lifetime, of that there was no doubt.
Shan seemed unenthused by the crowd, sitting lazily on his haunches the moment they walked onto the stage.
His actions earned him some commentary, which threw the crowd into an even greater fervor.
And Cirayus hasn’t even made his debut, Vir thought. He genuinely wondered if he’d have to fight wearing earplugs if the spectators didn’t calm down.
“Demons and demonesses, nagas, kothis, and giants. I tell you, we are watching history in the making today. After eighteen long years, our resident legend has returned,” Samik, the commentator, said, letting out a sigh of awe at the end. Vir couldn’t tell if he meant it, or if it was simply put on for the show.
“And what an absence it’s been, Samik,” Nakin said. “Eighteen long years in the Ash. I don’t think there’s a demon alive who feels Cirayus can grow any stronger than he already is, and yet, I have a feeling we’re about to see just that.”
The commentators went on and on about the fight, speaking at length about Cirayus’ storied history. Of his impeccable win record, and of the sight they would see today. Vir wondered if they did this at every tournament Cirayus fought in, and surmised they probably did. The tales of Cirayus’ exploits were far too polished not to have been rehearsed. At this point, it was probably closer to a ceremony than mere custom. They even sprinkled a few words of encouragement for Vir, whom they expected to lose as a matter of course.
Though Vir ensured he waved to the crowd and smiled, the only parts he bothered paying attention to were those that mentioned his father—one of the few fighters in the realm who could give Cirayus any real challenge. But the commentators only mentioned him in passing before hurrying along. As though the very mention of his father’s name was taboo.
Not after today, father, Vir swore. I’ll win, and I’ll ensure your name is spoken with the reverence it deserves, the same as Rudvik.
Vir doubted there were many alive who could boast about having two fathers, both of which were heroes, as legendary as any in the Demon Realm.
After a wait that felt like an eternity, and that was in fact far longer than those of his previous bouts, Cirayus’ name was called.
Vir had his ears plugged well in advance, and even then, the sheer force of the cries and cheers vibrated his chest. The energy was… awesome, and Vir idly wondered if Ashani had ever witnessed anything like it before the fall. Somehow, Vir doubted it. He could picture her gawking at the spectacle from her vantage high in the stands.
My goddess of victory…
Vir shook off the errant thought. She was most definitely not that. She had never been that. No, if Vir won today, it would be of his own means. By his own sweat, blood, and tears. He had to, for his victory to have meaning.
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The red giant emerged, hefting the enormous Sikandar. It was as if Vir were looking at a different person entirely. Holding his four-handed sword to the side, Cirayus plodded slowly to the stage, eyes locked on Vir. Gone were the waves and the exaggerated jumps for dramatic effect. In fact, Cirayus seemed not to have noticed the crowd at all.
Vir’s eyes locked onto his foe, and he knew then that he was no longer looking at his godfather. He regarded the Ravager in full war attire. Though his arms were bare, his chest was adorned in a gorgeous golden and black plate, and on his thighs, he wore segmented seric greaves. His head was helmeted, though it was only a half helm, and he wore great metal boots that shook the earth with every step. It was not the doing of Balancer of Scales.
Though the crowd’s fervor had reached unprecedented levels, the din seemed to mute as Vir’s opponent approached the stage, finally climbing up the steps and coming to a halt on the other end.
Armored and heavily armed. Different equipment from normal.
Vir had never fought an armored Cirayus. Giant’s Hide gave the Bairan juggernaut more armor than he ever needed. For Cirayus to don armor now…
Despite the pressure, despite the gravitas, Vir cracked a smile. He’s really going all out.
“Well, lad, I’m glad to see your fight hasn’t fled,” Cirayus said, and Vir only heard him above the cacophony by reading his lips.
Vir’s grin widened. “I could say the same for you, old man. Don’t break your back, alright?”
Cirayus roared with laughter, leveling Sikandar at Vir. “Challenge Accepted.”
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The commentator drew out the drama for as long as possible, but Vir hardly cared. The only words he heard were, ‘Combatants! May the match begin!’
Vir launched toward the center of the stage, hoping to gain the initiative. To his immense surprise, Cirayus did the same. While the giant sometimes opened aggressively, it was rare—he preferred to allow Vir to make the first move.
Because he was going easy on me, Vir thought in irritation. Prana surged into his legs the moment his foot touched the stage, canceling his momentum and reversing it.
The stage was large, as stages went, but at demonic speeds, and against Sikandar, it felt far too small. As it was, the giant’s gargantuan blade barely missed Vir’s chest.
“Good reflexes,” Cirayus said, beaming. “But reflex alone will not allow you to best me.”
Vir was moving before he’d finished speaking. If his godfather was going to spout pointless drivel, Vir would make certain he exploited it.
Besides, the demon wasn’t fighting just him.
Shan bounded all around the giant, taking swipes with his claws, and biting into the giant’s armor when possible.
Cirayus initially ignored the gnat… Until he realized the gnat was far more deadly than he’d thought.
Even with his augmented strength, Shan’s claws and bite did nothing against the armored Bairan. Giant’s Hide alone would have stopped the wolf from dealing much damage.
Shan, however, boasted not only physical strength, but Ash Prana, and unlike Vir, he was under no compunction to hide it.
With Prana Fang and Prana Claw, Shan’s attacks were not something the giant could ignore.
That alone ought to have evened the match, somehow, it didn’t.
Against an opponent like Cirayus, every attack was a dance with death, and even as he spoke, the giant slashed Sikandar, forcing both Vir and Shan to abort their attacks.
Not only were large weapons excellent at fighting multiple opponents, but Cirayus had mastered every aspect of the enormous weapon.
Vir knew blocking it was a good way to have his weapon destroyed… Or be flung off the stage. That was, of course, if Prana Armor even held. Unlike a polearm with a metal tip, Sikandar was lethal at every point along its enormous blade.
What a ridiculous weapon. Though Vir had seen it in action countless times, he couldn’t help but appreciate its absurdity. By all rights, it ought to have been a useless, ungainly weapon. The combination of Cirayus’ strength, experience, and his bloodline arts—both Bairan and Gargan—easily rendered it the deadliest weapon on the battlefield. Even without Balancer of Scales.
The only option was to dodge the blade, but Cirayus knew that. He’d be ready. The Gargan Lionheart boosted all of Cirayus’ physical capabilities for a time, and Cirayus could alter the blade’s direction almost as well as with Balancer of Scales—something Shan was now exceedingly wary of. The wolf no longer attacked aggressively, and was now circling around the giant, observing him carefully for an opportunity.
Up or down?
The natural tendency was to sink beneath the blade, but Cirayus would expect that. The riskier move was to jump high, but once in the air, Vir lost all ability to change direction. He’d be easy pickings.
Which was why he did neither. Just as with Sikandar, Vir had seen Cirayus wield the monstrosity of a sword on numerous occasions. And all that time, he’d scrutinized Cirayus, analyzing his strengths and weaknesses. And while, when wielded by an expert, it might have nothing so severe as a weakness, it certainly had one trait Vir could exploit.
Vir twisted and jumped… but not high. In fact, his jump barely had his feet clearing the blade, and in a feat made possible thanks only to Haste, Vir timed his fall to land on the blade.
Even with the slowed passage of time and Vir’s not-insignificant dexterity, it took all he had to stay on the blade.
Thankfully, Cirayus also had his fair share of difficulties. Sikandar’s tip fell, but Cirayus braced and wrenched the sword up before its tip hit the ground. Leveraging his incredible strength, he then flipped the blade and slashed the sword high into the sky, but he was too late.
Vir had already Blinked the rest of the distance, plunging his katar at the giant’s throat. Shan, having anticipated the attack, moved in at the same time, swiping at his leg.
The crowd gasped, and through the effects of Haste, Vir’s ears perceived it as a deep roaring thunder. With the world at a crawl, Vir was also able to see Cirayus pivot his body ever so slightly.
There was no avoiding these blows, but with that one small motion, Cirayus had turned a match-ending attack into something superficial.
Even that would be hard won, as Cirayus slammed both Vir and Shan with Life and Crown Chakra aura. As non-lethal Chakras, these were fair game, and having already expected a Life Chakra attack, Vir had already opened his Foundation Chakra.
The Crown Chakra, however, was another story.
Vir had already experienced what it was like when Cirayus opened the highest Chakra, so he thought he knew how to deal with it.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Already preoccupied with keeping his Foundation Chakra open, both Vir’s and Shan’s minds were infected by the grandeur of the Crown.
The wolf aborted its attack and bounded away, where it whimpered and cowered in fear.
Vir could hardly blame him.
The aura projection wasn’t hostile on its own. It did, however, augment the effects of all the other Chakras. To the point where even with his Foundation Chakra wide open, Vir found himself unable to resist the mental attack. The proximity only made it worse—in just a few seconds, he’d lose consciousness.
Plenty of time to throw his deadliest weapon.
Cirayus saw the Artifact Chakram light up and immediately moved away. Even stunted as it was, the disc could slice right through his thick skin, and he knew it.
Both Chakras cut out, and Vir was released from his mental attack.
The three fighters stood exactly where they had when the match began. All uninjured.
Vir took a long, deep breath as it dawned on him that this fight would not be a short, simple affair.
Judging from the smile that plastered Cirayus’ face, Vir knew the Ravager would not want it any other way.
Unfortunately for him, Vir had other ideas. The time for playing nice was over.
Now it was time to win.