A deafening explosion rocked the arena.

When Davian's ruby met the brick wall, his already debuffed hearing turned faint. Entire bricks lodged themselves in the white walls of the course. As the dust settled, a hole much larger than the doorway appeared and he stepped through.

“Oh gods! Did you see that, people? This is what you’re all here for. This year marks the inclusion of any and every miasmic religion in the Tryptus. I know I’m going out of my mind waiting to see what the Nerrus, Jir and Torchup congregations are capable of. Can all of them muster explosions from thin air? I’m excited to find out.” The announcer crooned, his over-amplified voice the only sound able to reach through Davian's semi-deafness. Until now, the announcer had been following Tato and Brendiwezzick much more closely, letting Davian know that his partner still held the medallion. The judges considered the victor to be whoever found the medallion and defeated the other team. Were they to defeat the other team without finding the medallion, they wouldn't progress in the tournament. If they found it but failed to defeat the other team, all four would be expected to the run the course a second time towing along all the buffs and debuffs they'd earned. In addition, the specific person in possession of the medallion when the team wins, was awarded a ticket to the Unmade Reaping.

Explosive distraction behind him, Davian worked his way through the remaining rooms with minimal difficulty. In that time, he managed to earn his team five additional buffs and one debuff. The first thing he saw after escaping the course into the wider coliseum was Sir Slepe slumped against the outermost wall. A quick peek showed that Brendiwezzick was holding her own against the famously unbeatable gladiator using what was a surprisingly acrobatic style. Though many of her moves were to evade Tato's unbridled rage, she repeatedly ducked behind his defenses to slap the man's cheeks or drive an elbow into his kidneys.

Yeah. Davian had a minute to spare.

“Hey! You ok, buddy?” He asked, shaking Sir Slepe's shoulders lightly.

“That bastard—is rejecting— his debuffs.” The man gasped out.

“Woah. Really? Does that mean you've got his too?”

Sir Slepe gave a pained nod.

Davian frowned. “That guy is an asshole. Don’t worry, I’ll beat his ass for ya. Just get some Slepe.”

On command, Sir Slepe closed his eyes and slid sideways. Davian guided his body to the sand and left him laying in the shade of the white walls.

Davian rounded on the two fighting.

“Hey! Potato!” He yelled.

The monstrous man whipped about to see Davian standing halfway between them and the obstacle course. He looked as though he might rise to the bait but returned to his task of retrieving the medallion. The pink-haired woman grimaced at the unabated pursuit. In spite of her superior speed, the seasoned gladiator was gaining the upper hand. His focus could not be shaken from the tiring Brendwezzick.

“Brendi! Hey Brendi! Toss it here! I’ll take over!” He waved his arms at her, signaling for a pass.

Brendiwezzick hesitated, her distrust so deep that it colored her very posture. In the brief moment it took her to make a decision, the woman looked more like an orphan on the street preparing to defend her food from both of them.

“I’m already going to the Reaping! I don’t need the extra prize!” He called, praying Timbrelle would make his wild gambit into the truth. “I'll give your the ticket! Just pass me the damn medallion!”

The woman gritted her teeth but threw it anyway. As it left her hand, Tato brought down a meaty fist into the gap between her shoulder and neck, taking advantage of Davian's distraction. This brought her to her knees but it wasn’t until she flopped face first into the sand that Davian realized Tato had knocked her out. He made a note to check on her after defeating Tato.

“Wow. I was planning to beat you but maybe I'll embarrass you as well.” He said to the now positively unhinged man. “Let’s hear it Taters! What are you gonna do about it?”

Tato, past words and coherent thought, loosed a beastly howl and charged. To Davian’s dismay, the giant did not recklessly charge as he’d been hoping. Instead, Davian had managed to provoke something feral. Something that was every bit the predator the crowds expected him to be.

“Tato appears to have entered his rage! Statistically speaking, he’s never lost a fight while in this heightened emotional state. I expect we’ll see things turn out just as the statisticians foretold.” He sounded somewhat disappointed. However, his tune changed instantly. “What’s this? Has the crowd turned on The Mighty Tato? The stadium is practically silent during this rage... has the hero turned heel?”

Davian smiled. No one was cheering, huh? Then what was the vibration he was feeling through his feet? He could only think of one thing big enough to send such tremors through the sand.

Fede made it abundantly clear that Davian, as a representative of their congregation, wasn’t allowed to kill Tato... but that didn’t mean the asshole couldn’t die.

The auror began stoking multiple rubies to life. Muscular strength, hand dexterity, appendage speed, reflex enhancement. A few more he kept lit but asymptomatic. The last he would use were the three energy wells he spat into his palm.

“Keep an eye on our ruby master, he seems to be preparing for a head long collision. By my count, he has a whopping thirteen buffs. I’ve never seen an auror fight but over a dozen buffs certainly couldn’t hurt.”

Tato, bloodshot eyes bulging, sent a solid fist directly through Davian’s head. The blow met no resistance, having only made contact with an afterimage. He stumbled, the momentum intended to behead the auror threw him off balance instead.

Davian, now behind him, grabbed the unstable man by the belt, pivoted to face away and hauled the gladiator ass-first over over his shoulder to slam into the sand. His abdominal ruby strained, compelling his muscles to contract past their natural ability. The power that drove the back of Tato’s head into the ground stemmed from from six rubies and a smattering of buffs. Davian's afterimage only triggered when he earned his fourth boost to speed. Two momentum buffs stacked on top of his already impressive speed and ruby-fueled power allowed him to flip his opponent through the air. The impact of Tato’s body caused a blast of sand in every direction.

“Incredible!” The announcer screamed. His voice was bordering hysteria. “We may be witnessing the birth of a new champion! The Mighty Tato is nothing but a toy to the auror!”

The fool announcer couldn't know the exertion required to keep up with Tato. It may have been a fair fight but only just. Tato’s constitution and raw power were going to be difficult to counter. It was suspicious, once Davian gave it actual thought. What should have snapped his spine in two had been nothing more than a bad fall on the playground. He had to be supported by a deific blessing-perhaps Trypatusses himself. No one was naturally that sturdy.

Davian took the opportunity to sprint the opposite direction--a beeline to the center of the arena. Ignoring the disappointment of the announcer at his shameful retreat, reaching the middle of the field became his goal.

Without looking, he tossed an energy well over his shoulder. A deafening blast punched Davian in the spine, sending him to his knees. He scrambled to his feet and continued his mad dash for the center. Risking a look behind him, he found that Tato was lagging. Another ruby well fell at his feet and sent the guy flying back on his rear end.

Three seemed like enough at a time but with one ruby left and no sign of his master plan working out, he was beginning to doubt. He would only spend one more ruby on Tato.

At the center of the sandy coliseum there was a single island of stone. If Davian was correct, it was the only safe place for him. Twelve feet high, he would need to find a way to climb up… normally. With all the adrenaline, buffs and Crystalurgical energy, he was entirely certain he could make the jump.

The announcer was saying something but after the explosions and debuffs, Davian couldn’t make out more than muffled yelling.

He crouched to jump just as a meaty foot met his temple. The auror went tumbling through the sand. The grit found it's way into every crevasse, no exception to his eyes, nose and mouth. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was packed in his ears too. He didn’t have time to find out, only enough to check that his hood remained in place.

Davian was nothing to his house but still capable of bringing shame and and death to his house by exposing their ties to Nerrus. As long as the hood remained in place, losing the Tryptus or even death were the worst possible outcomes of this fight.

“You’ve ruined everything! You lousy Nerrus shitbag! I’ll kill you and screw your widow! I’ll burn down your house with your kids inside!” Tato’s booming voice sounded far away. It neutered the fury and made him sound like he was talking into his hands.

Davian jumped to his feet and sprinted away once again; He wouldn’t be taking refuge on the central pedestal.

Tato followed at a slower predator’s saunter, screaming gods knew what. He allowed the space between them to grow. A space Davian intended to utilize.

With a quick prayer to his god, Davian threw the final ruby at Tato’s feet. The man was prepared for the explosion this time, bracing himself and covering his eyes. When the dust settled, he stood there laughing. The muted man said something to Davian. Frustrated, he mouthed it clearer.

Is that it?

A rumble shook the arena. Tato looked around, alert.

Davian laughed back. “Did you think I was running away because I was scared?“

A long, tendinous grey tentacle burst from the ground in an eruption of yellow sand. When it reached full height at around twenty feet, the tentacle split down the middle. The edges pulled back along the long slit and exposed what looked like a zipper. As the “teeth” of the zipper pulled apart, the fleshy monolith turned inside out. Not teeth at all, thousands of tiny, thin tendrils separated into something resembling a pipe cleaner or a pine tree. At the tip of each small tendril there was a fist-sized glob of sticky, stringy, clear goo.

Davian stayed frozen in place, not even daring to breathe. Dorturegis possessed no ability to see but a web of their exposed nerves had no doubt spread through the sand. As he expected, even under suppression magic the Dorturegis would not allow any further damage to its nervous system. Attacking the sand had been the perfect plan. Both Brendiwezzick and Sir Slepe would be safe while unconscious but the smallest vibration could give him away in a heartbeat.

Tato craned his neck backward to look up at the creature. To Davian’s relief, the other man looked around for a weapon to use and ran back toward Sir Slepe, likely after the man’s longsword.

The Dorturegis sent three more tentacles of similar sizes to block his way. The first came crashing down like a tree being felled. Tota dodged the tentacle but didn’t seem to realize that the first one fell to drive him toward the others. He almost dodged the second attack but caught a few globs of goo on the arm. The tendrils stretched when he strained against them--one snapped at the base, jostling him into three more. The more he struggled the more he became entangled, blobs glomming onto him to restrict his thrashing. The sticky filaments contracted, pulling The Mighty Tato into an embrace.

For the first time during their match, Davian was grateful that he could not hear. He watched his opponent flail and further entrap himself. The whole time The Mighty Tato's mouth was open in an unheard cry.

Davian closed his eyes as the tentacle closed around Tato and the Dorturegis retreated back into the ground with its prize. Was it cowardly to get someone killed and then refuse to witness them meet the end you fabricated? Maybe... Probably... but in those first few minutes of stillness as he waited for the Dorturegis to settle, Davian only felt like a winner.