Fine sand filled his eyes, stinging at them, coarse and unpleasant. Tyr had never much liked sand, he was feeling it now, and yet he wasn't even fighting. He was lost in this game of cat and wolf with Nala amidst all the individual clashes around them.
Girshan matched himself with Rafael, while Jura and Yana ran back and forth looking for some kind of gap. Bows, of all things, were frowned upon in the tournament – so she was using the spear Tyr had given her way back when. Based on the little bits that he saw, Yana was winning, but it was by no means a sure thing. Girshan was getting thrown around like a child, but he seemed to be enjoying himself and Rafael was familiar enough with him to make it a learning experience if nothing else.
Tiber and Samson both clashed independently with two of their own opponents.
Tiber with the platinum ranked foxen, making a good showing of himself. Thus far, the matches had been fairly anti-climactic, like a horse treading over a family of marmots. This was one of the first matches in the official bracket where most of each team was engaged.
Samson faced a bear of a beastkin, as in the literal ursine variety, and was fighting with enough skill and strength to prevent him from being overwhelmed.
Magnificent, black braids and the whipping crescent of his halberd. Tyr was proud just to see it, how well he'd adapted to the new weapon. Slamming it into the bear-mans shield and letting the reverberating second shock throw his opponent back with a brutalized arm. Ruthlessly efficient, a sign of how able bodied he was to stand against a beastkin with no use of magic.
Goroshi and Daito paired themselves off with the two kijin on the other team, reminding Tyr of what Xavier and Benny had once said. About how ferocious and strong their females were. The words rang true, even Goroshi found himself being pushed back by the earth shattering, maniacal attacks of his opponent.
Daito, too, but it was obvious that he was playing with his opponent, just dancing around with his lute and occasionally slapping her across the face playfully.
Valkan remained awake and aware, already having defeated his opponent and standing aloof and off to the side. The match had become a battlefield of personal challenges, and he did not wish to intervene on behalf of another.
Lina was engaged with one of the beastkin shaman. Twirling about in a surprising display of skill, sword replaced by bladed staff. Utilizing her powers as a mage, not as a warrior or paladin. Ice beat against waves of earth magic, but she was the clear victor in this case. Some skill, after all, as she trounced her opponent with a thrown pellet of frozen water to knock him unconscious. The rattle and clang of Samson in his struggle against the ursine beastkin was enough to draw her attention, but Valkan's steady hand prevented her from approaching that fight.
Almost funny. How they hadn't known one another for more than a few months and they were already so in tune. Samson was a proud man, and he'd admit it, he wanted to test himself as much as anyone else. A born warrior, one of the greatest human combatants Tyr had ever seen, accepting no aid from implants, or any magic that wasn't in the weapon or armor he wore. Those crafted for him by his 'ooni', as Samson called the once-prince, though he'd never tell him what that word meant.
Tyr had considered his plans, finding them laughable. Relying on the concept of building a team of specific affinities while the pace of combat exceeded thought. Planning for such a thing was almost ridiculous, that's why any team worth watching wasn't just ten mages. It was a flat environment with a handicap on earth magic, starting fairly close to one another to begin. Against trained and well equipped opponents, the playing field was leveled quite a bit. Ajax, recently arrived to replace Rakkis who hadn't seen much action as an alternate in any case – was fashionably late.
Tyr understood why. He smashed his opponents defense asunder, turning away without pause to charge at Girshan with a roar, shouldering aside Rafael and pouncing on the other beastkin. No discipline, just wrath and rage. A challenge between men. Rafael had the good sense to bow out of his personal match, though disturbed by the rudeness of it, and Tyr was in no position to correct the behavior. Ajax had never listened to him to begin with.
Nala was Nala. She was an awakened chimera and incredibly powerful opponent. Playfully stepping through space and avoiding all of Tyr's blows, little effort present in her actions. All of the others had been locked in combat and experiencing the rush of a good fight, but he was toyed with instead. Not once had she attacked him, opting to continue circling around and beckoning him forward with a mocking finger. Mind games, and he'd take the bit for as long as she wanted him to, eventually he'd catch her.
“Fight me!” Tyr cried. The whipping wind was so loud that nobody above in the stands could hear him, but he was roaring. Pushing against it and swinging wildly at her blurred frame. Every time he swung, and missed, he became more desperate. More infuriated. She was goading him on and he knew it, but it didn't stop him from surrendering to the madness of that frustration. “This wasn't the deal!”
“And what was?” Nala spoke softly, yet he heard it as if her face was inches from his own in a quiet room. “That I strike out at you, harm you? No, that surely wasn't the deal. But if you tell me what you want, I'll give it to you, as you once said to me I will gladly reciprocate, little pup.”
“I want you to fight me.” Tyr said, quietly as well, but she heard him all the same. “Enough of these games. Kill me!”
“Alright.” Nala's voice came again. This time, it didn't just sound like she was close... She actually was. Slamming her foot into his knee, bending it the wrong way to elicit a shrieking cry of agony before sending him flying through the air with a lazy backhand. Nala became the beast that she was, not in form but in action. Plucking him from the air before he'd had a chance to impact on the wall and dragging his face through the arena floor. He could feel his skull crack and buckle, deforming under the violence of her assault. She released him, kicking him skyward in a position to observe the battle below.
Tiber had defeated his opponent, a bit worn after the activation of his implants, slumping down in exhaustion. That was something else, a platinum ranked adventurer should be beyond Tiber – but he'd still managed it.
Ajax and Girshan were still locked in a frenzied blur of blades. Claws, elbows, anything they could hammer into the other was free game there, rolling across the ground like animals, growling all the while.
Yana had defeated Jura before stepping back, and nobody seemed bothered with conceding some rest to her for now. Samson roared under the force of his opponent, slowly overwhelming the ursine with inhuman strength and pummeling him into the ground. Both opponents laughing heartily under the struggle, though the victor was now obvious and the ursa surrendered amicably. Again, perhaps another indication that excellence in all things came from a sense of camaraderie and not hatred.
Goroshi and Daito traced lines in the sand, still engaged with their kijin opponents. Fighting with great agility and grace in their own ways, two men who'd been at it long enough to mana equaling the kijin so known for their power and speed. Every clash was like a thunderclap, throwing sand in all directions with enough force to sting at the skin of the surrounding competitors.
Lina was waiting patiently for Yana to recover before they began their own bout, standing tall and proud in her silvered armor. She was an elegant noblewoman. Skilled, chivalrous, very much the upright ideal of a paladin, duty first. And that's why Tyr hadn't liked her. She was too naive, claiming to be a shield of humanity while not ready to open her eyes to what her own race was capable of.
Nala joined him in the sky. There was no vertical limit, only the barrier at the edge of the arena served as a knockout should someone be struck hard enough against it. She didn't seem keen to take advantage of that, staring down at the others calmly and ensuring he stayed airborne with a tug at his collar. “You're going to have to do a lot better than that.” She laughed.
“I'm trying.” Tyr groaned, his skull was popping uncomfortably back into place to return to normalcy – his torn scalp regrowing the hair upon it at a visible rate. Like a balloon inflating, he'd never properly gotten used to the sensation of feeling his nerveless brain pressing against all the bone and cartilage.
“Not hard enough. It's in you, your mind is weak, you show no intent – you don't want it bad enough, and that is why you will always fail.” Nala frowned, pistoning her long leg vertically under the great blue sky before hammering it into his midriff and sending him back toward the ground. Tyr struck with enough force to wake a mountain, the booming descent splitting the air and dispersing the sand yet further.
He lay there, broken and battered but not yet defeated, the abilities he'd gained were recognized by the arena... Somehow... And it did not activate it's protections on him, allowing him to feel all the pain and discomfort of being buried in the arena floor. Slowly clawing himself out of it with a stormy expression, a horrifying sight for anyone to behold. Grisly, red flesh exposed to the air, muscle fibers writing around with wet tears and creaking bone, a monstrous sort of ability that made people ill when they'd seen it.
Nala could have just defeated him, sent him into the barrier and engaged a far more appropriate opponent like Daito.
Instead, she seemed concerned only with embarrassing him.
Tyr had known that they had a strong chance of losing to begin with. Nala was transcendent in her strength and even if Daito could match her, Tyr wasn't counting on it. The captain was not in the least bit interested in displaying his might in front of the wider world, and even Goroshi appeared to be holding back considerably after observation.
There was a connection with Nala that he couldn't explain, and it wasn't like the others. Something primal and red, one beast recognizing another and pushing Tyr to assert his claim on the surrounding territory in a way that he couldn't with humans. Even if he knew he'd lose in short order, his mind was lusty with that challenge.
“So...” Nala smiled, a pair of granite gray talwar's appearing in her hands. “Let's give them a dance, shall we?”
Tyr spat angrily, watching as Aska warped and twisted to become two identical broadswords, one in each hand to match his opponent. The force at which they connected sent reverberations through the stone, enough to cause Goroshi's opponent to slip and falter, bringing an easy and early end to their personal duel. Tyr and Nala whirled around one another in flashes of blue and white, sparks flying with every connection of their blades. Fighting like berserkers, but there was a grace behind it that was apparent for all to see.
Every movement had purpose and every purposeful movement was to serve the dance. In perfectly matched steps with one another, partners in the midst of a tango. People roared and cheered their approval, forgetting all fights but the one currently in progress. They could feel the wind blasting off both opponents, but only Daito understood what was happening. He was pouring every last ounce of his own power into Tyr and yet he was still no equal to the woman he was fighting.
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Daito was well aware that she was a manticore, but this was something he had not expected. Her power was too much, even for Tyr, who was fairly adequate among awakened ones, further bolstered by Daito's enchantment. He had a creeping suspicion that this Nala might give a primus a run for their money, let alone a child just now walking the path of the dao.
And that left Daito considering why she was here. He was not aware of a single chimera among the Watchers, something this strong should've been hunted down a very long time ago. There was no mention of a 'Nala' in his memories, and reportedly she'd been close to Amistad for many decades. Why did they allow her to exist?
The chimera didn't seemed concerned with winning. In terms of speed and physicality she tuned herself appropriately to be just beyond Tyr's ability to beat.
Interesting. Daito found the situation to be amusing, but he knew that Tyr was feeling it. Too immature just yet to appreciate such a divine training partner, her ability to read energy in particular was so much higher than anyone Daito had ever fought. Even his own master, or father, would find themselves unable to exercise that kind of minute control. There was a difference between pretending and actually doing, he supposed, and actually doing it. That kind of control was something beyond mortal beings, a machine tuning itself to bring out someones best.
They are bound of souls... Daito's brow furrowed yet further, losing any appreciation of the fight. That... Was not a good sign. Primus' were not supposed to be able to form soul bonds, their spirits were self contained units, inviolable – the aspects they were known for took the place of that. Abaddon must've known, had to, and yet he allowed the boy to live... It didn't make any sense.
Tyr felt the energy roiling within him. Starting at his heart, reaching down to his feet and back up again in a constant, circulatory cycle. It would wax and wane, never quite settling in the right way that he needed it to – the way it would feel most 'right'. Always hot, like molten metal in his veins, but the forge in him wasn't enough to stoke it to the right degree.
Something to make him understand why humans had developed their own system and pulled away from the more natural way of things. Regressing into their current state, it was just too hard to bring it to fore. Even for Tyr, and he had a host of advantages he'd never earned to aid him, in comparison.
“We've given you every possible opportunity under the sun to guide your way and make you strong. Years you've been at this, growing, did we waste our time?” Nala sighed, perfectly audible in the middle of their wild dance. Her talwar's were lazily flicking about to intercept Tyr's own swords – barely requiring any effort to keep him at bay. Spinning around in concentric circles as one adopted the wind dance, and the other, the fire. “I am incredibly disappointed in you.”
“Please shut up.” Tyr hissed, straining to maintain control, resisting the urge to return to that baser nature. But every time he tried to hammer it into form, it would rebel against him and flee from his touch. “I'm trying to focus.”
A simply phrase that became the peak of difficulty given how hard she was working him. Nala wasn't skilled by any measure of the word, in terms of swordcraft of even fighting. She was all speed, strength, and instinct. So much of all three that she gave an immediate impression to all the masters in observance, enough to convince them she was a genius swordswoman.
Everything was so natural to her, so in tune with the world. Animals were graceful and could move and do things that humans could not hope to match, even after years of training. It was ingrained in them, and in Nala, too. She was too elegant to define with clumsy human swordsmanship. She was beyond in them in the way a panther was a panther style master. Humans emulated evolution, they'd never managed to master it, not even the greatest talents among them. Just men waving sticks at hurricanes.
“It's just... Pathetic.” Nala clucked her tongue in disappointment again, watching as the boy flailed about. He'd felt stronger before, now there was just a vessel full of pressure with no way to let it out. She wanted to see that pressure and magic inside of him, but he was just... “If this is a primus, it's a wonder your weakling civilizations managed to stand for this long.”
Tyr ignored her. Nala was mischievous, cunning, and even cruel at times – but she wasn't mean spirited, she behaved in a myriad of ways to fit a situation, to adapt.
“I guess that's why they call you mutt, right?” Nala gave him a mocking smirk, sweeping his legs out from under him. Tyr twisted at the waist, a gout of fire erupting from each heel of his boots, not losing sight of his opponent and landing gracefully to connect with her again.
Everything was one, and while he was clearly failing to find what he was looking for, he'd never felt so in tune with the fire inside of him. It came even when he didn't think to act, diving into the instinct to display a minutia in control enough to impress a trained mage. Always it have been a blast, spraying wildly, but in this moment it was in every limb. So closely bonded with his physical self that his veins pulsed with it, contained jets aiding him in his motions. His infusion had never been pushed this far, and yet he felt no discomfort whatsoever like he used to.
Her strikes were hard, but there was a purpose to all of them. It clicked in him, why she'd felt so nurturing through their bond while insulting him.
Teaching, guiding, pushing him to where he wanted and needed to be. Tyr was ecstatic, the rush of adrenaline intoxicating as he forgot the purpose of their duel. Forgot Nala, forgot himself – only the instinct remained. Faster, stronger, more dexterous than before. Enough to make his heart flutter, he'd never felt so clear headed in his life!
“Thank you, Nala!” Tyr could almost laugh, he was so close... So very close, a climax coming that only a powerful opponent like this could properly bait out. The giants were there again, flickering shadows in the sky leaning forward and baying louder than any crowd.
That's it! Tyr's eyes widened, he felt it – transcendent understanding. Ecstasy in living color. It wasn't in the blade, or the magic. That kind of power didn't care about sword forms or spellcasting, it went so far beyond that mortal constructs as to make them almost laughable in comparison.
It's in the da--! Without warning, he was shoved to the side brutally by an onrushing figure, a flash of white cloth and steel armor beside it.
“Sorry kid.” Daito didn't spare him even a glance. He'd felt her power, and both father and son wanted a taste of it. To challenge themselves, these opportunities were too rare – and he was loathe to let her simply lose to Tyr on purpose, which was exactly how the fight was trending.
Trending in other directions, too... She was trying to force Tyr to transcend early, and Daito absolutely could not allow that to happen.
“Goroshi!” Daito yelled, his shamisen replaced by an absurdly long, serrated greatsword. More like a toothed hunk of steel than a sword, it had no tip – just a flat head with a flanged extrusion. Easily as large as the man was, and taller if he'd put the blunt end of it to the ground.
“Ha!” Goroshi was giddy, flanking the awakened one perfectly alongside his father with nodachi in hand. Pouring every ounce of him into it until the form of the blade disappeared to become a raging pillar of fire held in anticipation of the clash. In unison, they shouted.
“Anvil!” Both weapons meeting on the woman's defenseless body with a force that popped and screamed, fire and earth magic raging in a core of molten punishment all around the chimera. For the first time since the fight had begun, the crowd was silent. Silent for the interruption of the duel, silent for the unparalleled excitement one felt when seeing such powerful magic. A condensed rampage of contradictory elements beating against one another is a burning sphere, the woman inside nowhere to be found. Sand turned to glassy shards, the competitors yet remaining flung from their feet by the violence.
Silent. Even the archmages present raised their eyebrows in wonder. That had been an energy combustion matching the upper limit of the level five standard. Two well known adventurers displaying a mastery of magic that made their skin crawl, all without them being aware they were capable of such a thing. Perhaps reminded that they could found their secret societies and continue sipping tea, there would always be monsters in this world to humble even them.
Silent.
Nala remained unfazed, and unharmed. Clutching a weapon in each hand before forcing them into the earth and crushing the men below her fists like an angry gorilla. Erupting into a rage as she slammed them again and again into the ground. Almost maniacally, displaying an inhuman strength that frightened all observers yet further.
The ground of the arena shattered and cracked, and the announcer called an end to the conflict – yet she ignored these warnings. One mark, two, and then a third. Excessive brutality was not tolerated, both Goroshi and Daito alike were bloody – and they'd survive – but their bodies were held overlong at the maximum capacity of the protection arrays, which was a clear violation of the rules. This had ceased being a simple duel, becoming an exposition of torture.
Men descended, robed and armored, rushing forward with staves gripped in their hands to end the abuse. It wasn't they who would would stop her, though. They could barely approach, all wards activated and barely able to handle the wild mana clawing at the air around her.
“Stop this.” Tyr said, massaging his recently 'relocated' shoulder. Relocated? Well... Whatever, dislocated was a word so that had to be the proper term. If not, it was now, Tyr would ensure those who wrote the dictionary would be contacted. “That's enough.”
Nala froze in her tantrum, staring at the dazed men hanging by their ankles in her hands as if they were the most disgusting things she'd ever seen. “This is your command?”
Tyr shivered at the look she gave him next. There was truly no humanity in it, like the black – lifeless eyes of a deep sea predator. He didn't understand what she was so bothered by, enough to go this far, but something in him tasted that rare and honest feeling of fear and wanted... More of it. Wanted to feel like this forever, with this lightning in his blood. He'd have stayed locked in combat against her for months if she'd allowed for it.
Images of a world torn asunder, overran with cavorting black figures, all of his bonds were gone and the only one left was him. Standing tall on a mountain of dead with a smile, for all eternity, he would only ever be fighting. That was who he was, in his deepest core, if only that human part of himself would stop pulling away from such singular violence.
“It is.” Tyr replied, meeting her snarling challenge with his own. He couldn't describe it, it was so... Real! Two beasts, like he'd found another part of himself and almost wanted it to challenge him, even if he knew he'd lose. But she couldn't, she was made to obey and he knew it. “You will put them down, now. And we'll end this regardless of the ruling.” He looked at the tournament security next. All mages, level three or four at best, mundane wizard battlemages. Devolved and twisted wretches with no concept of who they were pointing their weapons at. “Get back to your seats, or you'll be fighting the both of us. I could use the exercise, though what little bit of it you could provide us.”
Tyr didn't need them to know that even the weakest of them could debilitate him rather easily. Humans were easily cowed in most situations, opting for that need to survive that made them 'strong'. They always went for the predictable play, so lacking in ingenuity. He'd fought mages time and time again and not a single one of them had thought to freeze him or seal him in earth. It was ridiculous. Too many wild strokes of luck to call it coincidence. And again, they nodded anxiously, backing away slowly to the edge of the arena as the announcers called out the victor. Everyone on the field was beaten, except for Girshan, but a three strike violation would disqualify not an entire team – but three of the participants instead.
With only one standing and healthy after Yana had taken a knee against Lina...
“They disrespected us.” Nala said, shaking in resistance to the call if only to see how far she could go. She could not disobey him, but it wasn't as unpleasant as she'd thought it would be, to be commanded like that. Dominated spiritually, even if he'd asked her to kill herself, she'd have done it with a smile. “Both of us, ruined your chance, you will not get another for some time. I want that for you, I really do, your growth is necessary. You have no idea how necessary it is for you to speed up the process. I can't even say why, I just know.”
“And they are my friends, so you'll release them.” Tyr replied, steady in his gaze, even as his body sweat and his hands shook. He couldn't get enough of that primal connection between them. “What do you really want? What was the purpose of this, really?”
She did as he asked in the first, dropping their limp bodies to the arena floor. Humanity returned to her eyes and she let out a tsk. Nala left without answering the second, turning her back to Tyr and all the others, declaring a forfeit to the match. Although it wasn't necessary, she was already disqualified, but that pride in her...
“You alright?” Rafael joined him, Lina at his side, smirking down at Daito in morbid amusement of the situation his old friend had found himself in.
“Not really.” Tyr said. All around them was destruction, the entire arena was in shards and rubble, but the people in the viewing stands were pleased for the most part. They'd seen something amazing, and that was the whole point, whether the victory came from a contrivance of rules or not was irrelevant to them.
“What's wrong?”
“I really wish there was a more satisfying end to these kind of things.” Tyr sighed, scratching the back of his head and ignoring all the calls from the crowd. “But I guess that's now how life works.”
“Not any kind of life I have any experience with.” Rafael snorted. “Let's go hit the baths and get a drink while those two idiots sleep off the headache. Damn me, but that's a woman I'd like to get to know.”
“I can introduce you to her.” Tyr offered.
“It was, uh... No, thank you, please don't.”