Damian stood in the arena with the most excited look Kyrion had ever seen. Damian smiled slightly and raised his eyes at anyone who didn’t know him, who wouldn’t have recognized the meaning. The young man looked as smug as a cat holding a canary. Both of his swords had been summoned prematurely as a sign of awareness. That last fight had pushed him to his limits and beyond. Now, he was to fight a new type of opponent.
Cecil was covered in flexible blue armor, three wands rested on each hip, and a large wand was positioned behind him. At his side was a silvery long suitcase that appeared to have been heavily modified. Over his shoulders were two silver canisters, which function as more than just a weapon. Finally, his blue visor helmet took in every detail and highlighted Damian and his swords, helping him get a 360-degree view of his opponent.
“Today! We have the Finals of the Solo portion of the tournament! In one corner we have a lean mean, Blade Dancing king! And in the other, we have the mastermind himself Cecil King of Queens.”
Cecil eyed the announcer, scanning him briefly as the arena changed. In moments, they were in a field of grass that shot up well past ten feet with a few trees bandied about that shot up past the clouds.
“Ok… This arena clearly favors my opponent.” Cecil’s gaze hadn’t left where the announcer’s voice had been.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, and beings beyond mortal comprehension. Today we witnessed a battle taking place on the moon of Vlfera. It’s the tiny green one that’s hard to see without knowing where to find it. On a battlefield known as Granocx.” The name didn’t quite roll off the tongue.
“The gravity of this world is slightly higher than what we are used to, and the air is full of nature mana. Making it harder for humans to breathe without adapting or having special tools. If you’re not careful, you may end up with life poisoning.”
Cecil scowled as he looked at his visor. He hadn’t known installing an air monitor would be necessary, but better safe than sorry. Life poisoning was likely the result of a disturbingly high concentration of oxygen. What made things dangerous were the strange particles in the air that didn’t quite belong. A spark could probably set the entire forest ablaze if used to that degree. It would also take a toll on Damian if he kept singing for a prolonged period. The dry grass in the area wouldn’t help.
“For your safety, Damian, I advise against overusing your voice here.” It wasn’t like they were enemies, and if he poisoned himself regardless, he wouldn’t be to blame.
Damian’s smile faded; he hadn’t planned on fighting with a handicap, yet something told him that the armored man wasn’t lying. Nodding, he entered a combat stance; if his breathing was affected, his combat style would be as well.
“Ready? Fight!” The announcer yelled.
Damian slowly moved toward his opponent’s voice through the quick, tall grass. Trying to avoid exerting himself in this field before he made first contact as that could lead to him being heavily impacted early.
Suddenly, Damian heard a click as he stepped on a strange rock. “Odd?”
When Damian realized something was off, he sensed a blast of mana coming at him from the side.
Thus, he moved forward to dodge as the black ball of inky liquid spread rapidly, coating the area in something that smelled quite awful. The strange rock appeared to be a peculiar tan device that was currently in the process of dispersing a large amount of compressed mana.
For a long second, nothing happened. Then the world saw what power Cecil’s organization had at its disposal. An explosion of mana erupted, causing a radius of a little under 100 feet. Flames spread about the area. Smoke covered the site, and neither fighter could be seen.
In moments, what had been a battle had the medics running back and forth, looking for an unconscious body to be teleported out of the arena, hoping a child hadn’t been killed by the explosion. They raced about for twenty seconds before the smoke cleared, and a small area within the blast had been primarily unaffected. The area centered on where Damian had been had fanned outward. Both of his swords were raised, and he was forced to breathe heavily. His robes had seemed to repel some of the flames, leaving his body mostly unharmed.
When Damian could still fight, a murder of mechanical crows began to close in on him. Each one fired a low-power stunning bolt simultaneously.
If one were to hit, not much would change, but if even six had hit simultaneously, Damian’s muscles would have seized. Or so the swordsman had sensed.
Where Cecil had prepared for a dodge or block, he had not expected all sixteen bolts to be cut simultaneously.
“You’re a dangerous enemy Cecil. I sense no intent behind your attacks. As though you are an assassin. What’s worse is that you’re currently hiding so well that I’d suspect that I was the one with a disadvantage.” Damian coughed a bit before a smile appeared on his face. Despite the hit-and-run tactics, he was having fun.
Cecil clicked his tongue and stepped out from behind a tree, moving through the grass to the now clear area.
“Didn’t expect that to beat you but it appears as though you hadn’t been harmed at all.”
“I sense no intent from you, yet you speak to me. Is it the armor?”
“Who knows.”
Cecil dashed forward at a speed that shook the ground. When he was within range, a blast of flame shot out of his foot and propelled him into a spin, which he used to slam his foot into Damian’s head.
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Damian spun with the kick, using the momentum to lessen the blow while countering with two slashes at his midsection. From there, a piece of metal fell to the ground, and a few discs shot outward. A barrier of mana surrounds the swordsman.
Cecil cut off Damian’s attempt to flee and threw a few jabs into Damian’s midsection.
“Forte!” Damian yelled, intending to increase his power, only for nothing to happen. Attempting to attack with a finishing blow, he slashed Cecil’s armored chest.
“Fortissimo!” Damian followed in worry as no power filled him.
“Aria of.” Damian attempted to sing but found his singing was getting disrupted somehow, his throat heavily injured. After coughing a disturbing amount of blood, he looked about. A loud metallic noise was followed by strange sounds almost resembling music. From there, he determined that his domain expansion was being limited by the barrier he was in.
“How are you countering my magic?” Damian asked as he dodged to the side and began to vibrate as a yellow aura covered his body.
“Sound magic is nothing more than intent and vibrations working together to provide effects. So I created an item that would counter those vibrations. After that I had an idea, what if I could redirect those spells.” Cecil stated as he stopped moving to speak, leaving himself open.
Damian knew he was being baited but charged Cecil anyway. If Cecil was truly being enhanced by his spells, then chances are that he’d have sensed the change. Yet there was a lot that Damian hadn’t understood, like Cecil’s lack of presence in the fight. It enlisted before the battle, and he had sensed it before the explosion, but he hadn’t sensed it since they were engaged. His movements were also repetitive and almost rigid.
With his aura, Damian’s speed increased considerably, resulting in a series of high-speed cuts that ended with Damina accidentally taking Cecil’s head.
“Wards?” Damian stood there confused as he noticed a lack of resistance and assumed the fight had ended, relaxing briefly.
Oddly enough, the match wasn’t called.
Six curved wands surrounded Damian and began the process of firing back-to-back spells meant to take out the relaxed swordsman.
Damian redirected each blast as though a switch flipped, causing them to bounce into the six rings acting as a barrier.
“Aria of swi…” Damian began as an unarmored hist slammed itself into Damian’s gut while another hit him in the face simultaneously. From there, the young man followed with a kick that knocked Damian to the side.
Moving at a speed he shouldn’t have, Cecil brought his heel down on Damian’s head.
“Pianissimo,” Damian smirked as the attack did no damage whatsoever.
“I’d fight you head on, but I’m not a spirit master. You could probably take me easy like this.”
“So you say.” Damian coughed. “If you think I’m holding back, then you aren’t as smart as people say.”
“Had to try.” Cecil sighed as he held his hand up. A thinner layer of his armor covered his body, shielding him again. From there, Cecil withdrew an inhaler and tossed it to Damian.
“Place it in your mouth, push the pump down and inhale at the same time. This should fix your breathing for a while.”
“You aren’t trying to poison me are you?”
“Please, as you are, even if I win I lose. I have shown off a few useful gadgets, so I’m sure the audience should at least get a great show.”
Damian carefully followed the instructions and felt his lungs heal and adapt while the blood that had gotten into them vanished.
“Ready for round two.”
“Hope you don’t regret helping me.” Damian replied.
Cecil withdrew two pistols. Unlike the curved wands that resembled guns, these were the closest in shape and function. Much like the gifts he gave Bastion and Eden, these shot a magical projectile. A parrying dagger at the end of each pistol would make his aim slightly lower with a real firearm. The weight, however, had no effect on his accuracy; the target-tracing enchantment made things deadly. The bullet would seek until it hit something or ran out of mana.
“So you also dual wield.”
“I prefer not to use these as they are one of my trump cards. Unluckily for you I recently made some advancements that make these no longer qualify.” Cecil twirled both guns with extreme dexterity.
Damian, in turn, twirled his blades. “Accelerando, Fortissimo!"
“Execute, speed killer.” Cecil took a counter stance, knowing he’d need to be quick.
Damian vanished from the sight of those weaker than well-trained practitioners. Many of the unranked experts had to exert focus just to see what happened.
While Most Cecil hadn’t moved, it took a minute for light to catch up to their movements, resulting in one of the elves observing, slowing the fight down quite a bit.
Damian slashed six times in quick succession and thrust during the seventh step.
Cecil blocked all seven attacks, pointed a gun at Damian’s head at point-blank range, and fired.
Damian’s instinct took over, and he knocked the gun to the side as it was beginning to fire, interrupting the targeting and causing the magic projectile to slam into a three and pass through it.
Cecil attempted to shoot Damian in the leg.
Damian countered by kicking Cecil’s left arm and moving into a spinning strike, aiming to remove Cecil’s head.
Cecil dove to the side and fired six shots in quick succession.
With inhuman speed, Damian cut through every projectile and redirected them before giving chase. The ground under him shattered as he moved.
Cecil clicked his tongue and held down on the trigger, charging up two shots using all the mana in each gun.
As Damian brought his swords across perpendicularly, Cecil released his held attack. Damian’s left sword managed to redirect a good amount of the damage to his right sword, while cutting into Cecil’s right gun. Unluckily for Damian, the blast proved too powerful, causing the sword in his right hand to burst into raw mana.
Damian wheezed as his left sword slipped through his guard, and Cecil lost his right hand.
“Damn it!” Cecil retreated as his hand fell to the ground. The blood coated the dirt as he focused his mana on his gun, causing it to change from a pistol to a magical arm cannon.
Mana from all over the environment began to flow into the cannon. The air, the grass, the trees, and the sun, all of it flowed into his charging weapon.
“Aria of the Sword Saint!” Damian had begun to sing a tune in a minor key that inspired dread as the sky became dark. Then, suddenly, it switched to a major key that inspired hope as the sky began to split, as a giant sword descended from the sky.
As the sword fell, Damian ran out of energy and faded, the sword now falling by its own power.
“Now that’s the pinnacle of spirit mastery, isn’t it? I’ll need to work hard.” Cecil looked at the sword and fired into the blade, causing an explosion that shook the sky one last time before the arena faded.
As the dust settled, Damian lay unconscious in the ring, his body beaten and bruised, his spirit broken. He potentially wouldn’t be able to fight for a while as things were, although he would receive the prize for winning the solo tournament, which was much better than going home empty-handed. At that moment, however, the only thing running through Damian’s mind was fighting Cecil or Volain again. He wouldn’t have won without his songs, and then it dawned on him that he was Drisil’s co-captain.