Myrthil tricked her opponent into an uncomfortable posture, and Jorik came from the side to finish him off in a single swipe. The sword cut lightly on the man’s chest and blood instantly dropped down.
The referee for their match immediately whistled once to indicate the man was out, before he blew three times in succession to announce the match was over. In total, the duel had lasted less than ten seconds.
Mahon had eliminated their first opponent within three seconds while Jorik and Myrthil pinned the two others down. When Mahon joined them afterwards, they worked in sync to split them before eliminating them one after the other.
Their opponents weren’t weak, they had two six-stars and one seven-star, but against Mahon, Jorik and Myrthil they simply stood no chance. Actually, for their first match, they had faced one of the weakest trio they could imagine. To reach the sixty-four last trios of Finem’s tournament was already proof of their strength. But to go further, one had to be more than that.
The first day of the tournament would see each semi-finalist emerge. Each one had to win four times in a row to emerge victorious from their group. There were fewer competitors than two days before, and yet the arena was crumbling under the massive crowd of spectators. The reason was simple enough.
Sorcerers.
Today, for the first time in decades, sorcerers would reveal their strength to the grand public, and it felt like all of Finem went to witness the show.
As to give the fighters enough rest between fights, the tournament was arranged such that only one fight happened at the same time. By a stroke of luck, Mahon’s group had been the first one to enter the arena and fight. It had been a big disappointment for the spectators, however, as no sorcerer fought in either trios and the fight only lasted ten seconds.
Mahon, Jorik and Myrthil ignored the disappointed crowd and walked back to the side where the warriors could watch the fights, and the Protectors immediately congratulated them on their swift victory. Two trios were called next to fight, and everyone’s attention was drawn back to the arena.
It was important to gather information about potential opponents, because at their level, one single advantage could make the difference between victory and defeat. It didn’t matter if they weren’t in the same group as nobody could afford to wait for the last fight to observe their opponents.
Although the sixty-four trios selected for the second day were all elites, there was still a huge disparity in strength between them, and the fights fell into two categories. Either one of the group had a sorcerer and it crushed the other trio, or both lacked a sorcerer and the fight lasted longer. A few dark horses appeared such as Mahon’s group or Luvon’s one that could end the fight very quickly, but in the first group, there weren't enough strong groups to get an interesting fight in the first round. The only fights that lasted long were between two weaker trios.
Even though they couldn’t get much information about their opponent’s true power when fighting against weaker trios, Mahon was still able to observe them.
Luvon looked like a four-hundred years old man to Mahon’s eyes, which is to say he was between thirty and forty years old in Finem. His body was without any fat, and his muscles clearly chiseled for efficiency and not power. His gray eyes seemed to notice everything around him, and his steps were linked to each other in such a smooth way that it screamed danger to Mahon’s instincts.
His two younger disciples were more heavily built, but they still had some traces of their master’s aura. Unfortunately, Luvon didn’t even fight, and he let his two disciples take care of the enemy trio. Their moves were swift and precise, but their opponents lacked talents for them to show their real potential.
They should be seven-stars at least. But their fighting method is… weird. I’ll need a stronger opponent to figure out their true strength.
The two other trios that got Mahon’s attention in the first group were the two with sorcerers. One of them only had one, and even though that trio showed some strength, they weren’t well coordinated with each other.
They shouldn’t be an issue.
As for the last sorcerer group, it was actually the second strongest one of the tournament, the team from the Pack of Hawks. They had two sorcerers, clearly used to fighting together, and the last member was a mountain of muscles at least two meters high whose sword would need Mahon’s two hands to hold, but the man only needed one.
They ended their first fight without even needing any magic, showing they were not only sorcerers but also very competent sword fighters. And also cunning enough to know when to hide their strength and not reveal their true assets.
When the group revealed itself, a few Protectors went to clap on Mahon’s back with a sorry smile.
“Bad luck... You only have two sorcerer trio in your group, but you had to pick the strongest one after our own sorcerers. Pray that you’ll only meet them at the end so you can reach as far as possible…” One said while shaking his head.
Mahon didn’t answer, but he thought otherwise.
A bit stronger than Rania with the sword but they’re only two. With the element of surprise on our side, that should do it.
The second group, the easiest one, then went to start their fights, but since there was no sorcerer, most people didn’t pay any attention to it. Without any surprise, the two trios of seven-stars from the Protectors Circle dominated their fight with ease and qualified for the next round.
When the third group started, however, everyone was glued to any group that came on stage. This group had seven teams of sorcerers, and it was bound to have all-out battles right in the first round. And it didn’t disappoint. In the first fight, two sorcerer teams met, but to everyone’s surprise, although the ring bathed in flames, the fight ended as quickly as all the previous ones.
“How is this possible?!!”
“They have three sorcerers?!”
“Who is that team?!”
Astonished exclamations emerged from the crowd of warriors observing the scene while the spectators were applauding loudly, oblivious to the surprised contestants. In the middle of the group of warriors, only two people showed different expressions at the sight of the winning trio of sorcerers.
“Why are they here?” Jorik asked.
“That’s a good question…” Mahon frowned.
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On the side, Rania turned her head to the duo. “You know them?”
“Not really.” Jorik answered. “It’s more like we meet them by coincidence. Twice.”
“Thrice now.” Mahon said. “I’m not sure if we should consider it a coincidence anymore.”
“But who are they?” Rania interrupted. “They bore the insignia of the Hawks on their outfit, but I’ve never seen them before. The Pack couldn’t have been able to hide three sorcerers for that long!”
“We only know their names.” Mahon explained. “The big one is called Virrion, the lady is Vivian, and the last one is the sorcerer I defeated in a duel before joining the Protectors Circle, Varek. I think they’re mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries?” Rania repeated dubiously. “At a sorcerer level? Wait… Do you mean… Ill Immortals?”
Mahon shrugged, while Jorik answered with a sigh. “That’s what we were told. It’s just a supposition, though.”
Rania frowned. “I need to report this to Paegis.”
“You can’t leave now. Your fight will be coming soon.” Jorik pointed to the arena where the second fight of the third group had just ended.
“That’s more important.” Rania waved it off. “Two sorcerers should be enough to deal with any team in our group. I’m leaving.”
Without waiting, Rania immediately left the warriors area. Mahon exchanged a look with Jorik.
“What do you think?”
Mahon sighed. “Nothing good.”
“You think they're here for us?”
“Or for the king’s favor.”
“Or both…”
“But why do they bring the Hawks’ insignia?”
Myrthil watched them talk with a curious face, but she didn’t dare interrupt their conversation. Soon, the fights ended in the third group and started in the fourth. As Rania predicted, the two Protector sorcerers were more than enough to handle a normal trio, even without going all out. The eight fights of the fourth group ended quickly after, marking the end of the first round of the tournament’s tree and the beginning of the second.
Mahon’s trio was called next while both he and Jorik were still lost in the implications of the presence of the three Ill Immortals in the tournament. They had to refocus quickly on their fight however, as Luvon and his two disciples took place in front of them in the arena.
Shit. No time to study them further.
“Second round, start!” The referee yelled an instant later, and the two disciples immediately pounced on them while Luvon stayed a step behind.
The two young boys ran at the same pace, in an impressive show of synchronization. One was left-handed while the other was right-handed, and they mirrored each other with an eerie perfection.
Mahon moved between Jorik and Myrthil to defend against the assault, and the trio took a stance that showed no openings. Seeing their posture, Luvon decided to move as well and sprinted to the side, circling around them. His two disciples didn’t wait for him before attacking, however.
With amazing coordination from people who didn’t exchange a single word, they both struck from a different angle. The Protectors were able to read the feint instantly, and when the duo simultaneously switched their targets by alternating their sword’s paths, they were ready for it.
But just like snakes, the swords of the two disciples coiled around their defense in a weird dance and forced the trio on the defensive. The duo pushed their advantage further and stepped forward while continuing their weird pattern that threw the Protectors off.
“Luvon duel style!” Myrthil quickly realized what they were doing. “They aren’t targeting our vitals!” She added after she realized Mahon and Jorik had no idea what she meant.
Mahon focused on the disciples’ motions and immediately understood. Their fighting style aimed at their exposed hands and feet and not at their head or heart.
It’s not a real fight, just a duel.
Duelists only needed for blood to touch the ground to eliminate someone, not to kill them. Why would they need to aim for the most protected areas when they could reach the same result by injuring their arms or legs?
Mahon had fought all his life to survive and kill. He couldn’t conceive someone attacking him while keeping their head unprotected only to graze his hand in exchange. But here it wasn’t a real fight. It was a duel. Killing someone was highly forbidden while a victory only needed a bit of blood. The disciples’ strategy was purely optimized to what their task was, and their fighting style reflected it.
Jorik had trouble adapting to it, and in the next exchange, a sword managed to cut lightly into his calf. He immediately placed his hand on it to prevent the blood from pouring, but the disciple that injured him swiped his sword in a wide arc as he attacked again.
He completely ignored Jorik, however, and as his sword spun around, it grazed the ground just enough to leave a small red imprint from Jorik’s blood that had been stuck to the sword and went to attack Myrthil in the same motion.
The referee immediately called for Jorik's elimination while the two disciples hadn’t even slowed down their assault.
You’re allowed to do that??!
Before Mahon got time to think, Luvon suddenly appeared behind them and effortlessly forced Mahon and Myrthil to split or succumb. Mahon didn’t dare holding back and pivoting with extreme speed, he parried Luvon’s sword with the tip of his own sword. It pushed the weapon just far enough to prevent the eight-star to stand between him and Myrthil.
Seeing their master’s move being countered didn’t faze the disciples in the slightest as they instantly ganged up on Myrthil while Luvon exchanged some extremely fast swipes with Mahon.
Luvon didn’t seem troubled either as he faced Mahon alone. Instead, he leisurely unleashed moves of uncanny precision one after the other, alternating between targeting Mahon’s vitals and legs. Without Mahon’s absurd control of himself combined with his deep Flow, Luvon would have already found an opening long ago. That was how insane the eight-star was with his weird fighting style.
Mahon redoubled his efforts to take back the lead in their duel, but sudden attacks only aiming to draw a drop of blood kept pestering him every time he tried something.
It wasn’t long before Myrthil got eliminated and the two disciples walked back to their master’s sides. Their arrival marked a little break in Mahon and Luvon’s duel as the two men moved a few steps away from each other.
Mahon didn’t waste an instant before diving even deeper into the Flow while getting the most rest he could. After months of training, he was as enduring as a bull, but to steal the victory from the three people standing in front of him would require every bit of his power.
Luvon watched him with a respectful look and smiled lightly.
“There are many people that I wouldn’t dare fight in open spaces. You’re a true warrior to the core, and I have immense respect for people like you.” The eight-star started. “But you’ve a too narrow view of what fighting is.”
Mahon frowned. From his point of view, it was Luvon that was exploiting a loophole to win in a way that should’ve never existed. Duels were just a weak mimic of real battles. How could he be the one with the narrow vision?
Luvon chuckled as he saw Mahon’s expression and spoke with the voice of those that were used to teach.
“I’ve fought and defeated plenty of guys like you. You all think the rules of the game can’t change. You think my rules are just a lullaby. A false pretense worth nothing in front of a real fight to the death. And that’s where you’re all wrong. You missed the important point. There are as many rules as there are people. You think you control everything, but as soon as the frame changes you’re just as lost as everyone else. One single difference and you don’t know right from left anymore. How can you call yourself a true warrior in that case?”
Luvon pointed to his own head as his eyes shone with a confident light.
“The only frame that exists is the one you’re placing on yourself. Your own mind is limiting you. Set yourself free and your imagination will be the only thing holding you back. Do you understand?”
Seeing Mahon’s puzzled expression, the man sighed and raised his sword back at Mahon.
“Anyway,” he continued, “it has been a long time since I met someone as strong as you, and I’m grateful for your presence here. One can only reach the pinnacle by fighting worthy opponents, after all. Please, don’t disappoint me.”