Opening my eyes, I lay on the bed for a couple more minutes, simply looking out the window. The weather was beautiful today. Clear, cloudless sky, but a rather brisk breeze meant it wasn't hot. I could easily see the cheerful smiles on the faces of passersby from my window. A pair of white-breasted swifts cut rapid circles high in the sky, performing a dance known only to them, which by local standards was considered a good omen.
Only my mood didn't quite match this morning idyll. My heart was heavy, and my night's dreams only exacerbated this state. Just yesterday, it seemed to me that I had forgotten about Cristo's death and had cast that story out of my mind. But a random encounter with the wine merchant showed that all things forgotten can suddenly manifest again and remind of themselves.
Aun peeked into the room and, seeing that I was not asleep, greeted me and asked if I was going to have breakfast today, and if "yes," he would quickly prepare something from yesterday's vegetables. Estimating when my duel might begin, I agreed to breakfast, but only after training. Then I got out of bed, went downstairs, washed my face, and, stretching until my joints cracked, I first did a warm-up without weapons, then took a spear in my hands.
"Can I join?" Aun asked, unsheathing his dagger and looking into my eyes.
"Five repetitions of 'All Elements' at the initial difficulty, and if you perform them flawlessly, you'll start the exercise I showed you yesterday."
"Yes, master," the young man nodded, agreeing with undeniable joy and enthusiasm.
I began my morning training also with the kata of "All Elements," but unlike Aun, I performed it at the fourth level. By the third repetition, I complicated the task, trying to maintain a snake moving along my wrist, created with Illusion magic. Alas, these attempts could not yet be called successful, as a moving illusion is much more complicated than the same but static. But I was comforted by the fact that I felt my progress. Not so noticeable yet, but this progress was there, so I had to continue practicing. If only I had not three but four Talent Stars in Illusions, my exercises would have been much more successful. But I don't have those four Stars, so I have to work with what I do have. And comparing my current progress to what the "previous me" achieved in the same amount of time, the difference was colossal. And this difference was not in ranks but in real skills and abilities, which is much more important.
Now, I could go up against Ronin or even Nate and win, which the "previous me" couldn't even dream about, despite the fact that at "this same time," he was also Bronze. Just don't forget that this is only now. And if I falter, slow down in my development, the same Nate or Katashi, or any other Shard, will immediately run far ahead. They'll get ahead, and I simply won't be able to catch up because if I fall behind, the questers will immediately remember their promise. My already not-so-great mood was spoiled even more the moment I remembered these enigmatic creatures.
"Am I really that bad?" Aun asked anxiously, taking my sour facial expression as a reflection of his performance.
"You're managing so far." In reality, the boy was doing well, but I decided not to lavish too much praise on him.
After finishing our morning training, we had a light breakfast of stewed vegetables and left the house. As it was the day before, the neighbors who were outside at that time enthusiastically wished me good luck and progress in the tournament grid. The approaching elder asked if everything was alright and whether there had been any new attacks or other incidents. Aun assured the baker that the night had gone well, and after receiving yet another good luck wish, we headed towards the city center.
After watching another girl, who was admiring my hairstyle with stars in her eyes, I turned to Aun, who was walking beside me:
"I have a request for you."
"Yes, Master?"
"After you place your bets, could you visit the municipality and inquire about the fate of the 'Bloody Wave'?"
"But I might miss your fight." The boy clearly did not like my proposal. "Though if it must be done, it must be done..." His sigh was so heavy that it would have softened even a stone.
His theatrics did not affect me, and I shrugged indifferently and said,
"It's not an order or a demand; it's a request." I shrugged off the boy and added in an indifferent voice: "If you don't want to, don't do it, I'm not forcing you."
Was this manipulation on my part? Undoubtedly. And knowing Aun as well as I did, I knew this manipulation would work. And it did.
"Master! That's not what I meant!" The boy started immediately. "Of course, I will go to the municipality. I will pretend I'm looking for ways to claim the galley," a faint smile crossed the boy's face, "even though I know there are no such ways, it will serve as a good and understandable excuse for my questions."
"Wonderful." I liked the idea he came up with.
Aun lasted three minutes before he asked, having received no explanation from me:
"Master, why do you want to know the future fate of the former pirate galley?"
"Just a simple curiosity that won't let me rest." I shrugged, pretending to be more interested in the girl watching me from the balcony than in answering the boy's question.
The boy was probably not satisfied with my answer, but seeing my not-so-cheerful mood, he refrained from continuing his inquiries. As we approached the arena stairs, Aun and I, as usual, parted ways. The lad headed for the entrance that was closer to the bookmaker's counters while I went in the opposite direction. Climbing the broad steps to the very top, I briefly stopped and glanced at the central square of Tries, which was as clear as the palm of my hand from this position. I stood like that for almost a minute and only then turned around and walked towards the service entrance. Alas, my hope that Ye Lan would somehow show herself was not confirmed. Most likely, my thoughts from yesterday were correct, and the girl had left Tries right after we had fended off the ambush at Aun's house. I'm sure she would have found time to meet me again if she was still in town.
As soon as I passed through the service gates, I was immediately taken in charge not by the usual servant but by one of the junior stewards with the emblem of the Alchemists' Guild embroidered on his clothes. They led me to the armory and gave me a new tournament spear while not forgetting to ask if I was satisfied with the replacement or not. Even if I had wanted to quibble, I couldn't have done so, as the weapon was almost a perfect replica of the broken one; even the wear on the haft and a slight chip on the tip were reproduced. So I accepted the replacement, which caused a palpable sigh of relief from the junior steward.
After I confirmed that everything was fine with the new spear, the steward called over the servant assigned to me and went about his business. The dressing room they took me to was the same one as yesterday, which was perfectly fine with me. After leisurely changing, I picked up the new spear and tossed it up. Then I spun on the spot and performed a couple of exercises, which were not hindered by the relative tightness of the room. This check showed that I was not mistaken, and the new weapon did not differ at all from the one I had already gotten used to.
Unlike previous days, there was a change in the regulations today, and the stewards brought all the remaining participants to the sand of the arena for the draw at once. Instead of lining us up in the familiar two columns, they arranged us in a large circle, at the center of which was the podium of the lead steward.
Unfortunately, Ronin was far from me in this arrangement. A pity; if we had been standing next to each other, I would have exchanged a few words with him. Taking my place in the sand, I glanced over all the participants with a bored, indifferent look, not lingering on anyone. After that, I yawned demonstratively and shifted my gaze to the stands, surprising everyone with a smile and a light bow. In doing so, I showed that I didn't care who my next opponent would be, but my indifference didn't extend to the spectators. Judging by the responsive approval, there were quite a few in the stands who noticed and appreciated my gesture.
When all the draw participants had taken their places, the lead steward called for silence in the stands.
"Before we begin," his voice enhanced by Wind magic easily reached even the farthest stands, "a small announcement. Due to increasing instances of attempted fraud, we have to introduce a cap on bets." As the audience began to grasp what the director had just said, a murmur of discontent began to rise from the stands. But before this murmur could grow into something more, the steward clarified. "No more than five hundred gold per person per fight." As such a sum was astronomical for the vast majority of spectators, the murmurs of discontent subsided almost as soon as they had begun. "This limit does not apply to private stands, where, as before, bets can be made to the junior steward assigned to each such stand. That concludes all non-Tournament-related announcements, and we begin the draw!"
The announcement of the lead steward indeed did not concern the majority of spectators. It also did not touch the VIP guests, who were situated in private boxes. But it hit those like Aun and me very hard. It took me a lot of effort to maintain an impassive look and not show my disappointment.
Thanks to this tournament and successful bets, I was very rich by the standards of the Metal coil of the Spiral as of today. I had just over two and a half thousand gold! Even for someone like Larindel, this was a significant amount. Incredible money for a Bronze rank loner, not only by local standards but also among earthlings. I'm sure for most of us at the moment, even gathering fifty gold would be pretty tricky. But, as they say, appetite comes with eating. And I planned at least to double this amount by the end of the tournament. This would provide me not only with a direct portal from Tries to Deytran but also allow me to buy a very good set of weapons and ammunition, and there would still be money left for unforeseen expenses.
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After this announcement, my already not-very-bright mood fell to the floor. I even had to mentally reassure myself that I already have many times more in this Cycle than what the "past me" could even dream of. And this was true. But how annoying it is that the money you already considered yours suddenly "waves goodbye and disappears into the mist." Only incredible self-control allowed me to hold back and suppress the swearing ready to break from my lips. My face remained calm as usual, and my gaze indifferent. But what an effort it took!
To push back the irritation and dissatisfaction, I focused on the draw. I roughly estimated who out of the pairs of Iron formed by chance today would come out as the winner. Moreover, I did this not for the sake of bets but just to train my attentiveness. Ronin got a not-very-tall, quite skinny yet swift fighter as his opponent, who chose two machetes as his weapon.[1] I saw his fights and understood that although he is quite fast and possesses the Aura of Acceleration at an excellent level, he has no shadow of a chance against the fencing master. He won't win even by accident. Not at all. No way. Judging by how the tribunes reacted to this pair, most of the spectators completely agreed with me. And the only thing that interested me was whether the earthling would make a show of his fight or end it all quickly.
It's unfortunate, but Aun and I won't earn much from this bet. If we're lucky, putting five hundred will yield us a profit of fifty at best. And I would have to split these hypothetical fifty gold coins from a hypothetical win with Aun. Sadly, I myself had no opportunity to place bets. Formally, the organizers did not prohibit participants from betting on themselves. But they didn't encourage it either, and there were no servers near the sector where seats were reserved for participants and their guests, ready to take your money to the bookmakers, as was the case with the VIP boxes. So, of course, I could personally place a bet, but then I would have had to run to the bookmakers immediately after the draw, wait in line, and risk missing my fight, which would lead to disqualification and, consequently, Erasure.
The Iron grid tournament draw ended, and without the slightest break, the Bronze draw began. And the first card that the steward pulled out and lifted above his head bore the name of Tayan Quarish. The young mage of three elements slowly climbed the steps of the grandstand and stood to the right of the steward. And while the representative of the Alchemists' Guild was choosing which card to draw next, I prayed to all the gods that Paravi Malik would be drawn for the young mage. And it was not about wanting Tayan to knock the local favorite out of the tournament, not me. It was because only such a lineup of opponents allowed Aun and me to earn a decent amount, even despite the new restrictions. I'm sure that the odds in a Tayan vs. Paravi match would be at least one to three, or even to four, in favor of the girl. I secretly crossed my fingers and held my breath.
The chief steward pulled out a card, raised it above his head, and his voice echoed across the entire Arena:
"And the opponent that fate has chosen for Tayan Quarish is... Fate has chosen... Raven from Seattle!!!"
Really?! How come?! Why am I so unlucky today!!! The last opportunity to earn a decent amount has just been taken away!!
I was so mad and tried so hard not to show my irritation to those around me, maintaining an indifferent facial expression, that I forgot to check whether the staff of the chief steward was a True Light artifact. I remembered this only after the draw ended, and I was already following a servant through the dark corridors of the under-stand premises. However, there was nothing terrible about my forgetfulness, the next draw will be tomorrow, so I will have a chance to check the staff.
If it weren't for the upcoming fight involving Ronin, I wouldn't have gone to the stands after the draw but would have asked the servant to take me to a separate room, where I would have calmed myself with meditation. And, probably, it would have been the right choice because I really needed to calm down, but I decided otherwise.
Unexpectedly for me, losing the ability to earn the money I'd already counted on and mentally considered mine hit as if it had been stolen right out of the wallet I was holding in my hands. I understand intellectually that this money was never really mine, it was merely potential earnings, and I should react to its loss more calmly. However, that's an understanding of the mind, whereas inside, my feelings are boiling over, and holding back irritation so it doesn't show in public is incredibly hard.
Following the servant, I went out to the tribune and took my reserved seat. To my surprise, I realized that apart from me, there were no other tournament participants in the audience around. Yes, there were guests invited by the participants, but there were no fighters who would be taking part in the battles. Apparently, all the others today preferred to prepare better for their duels rather than watch others fight. It's understandable; there are no easy opponents at the quarterfinal stage. Everyone who made it this far is worth something and certainly skilled.
Being a gymnast back there on Earth and when I was younger, I would never have gone to the stands to watch others' performances before my own. And my coach wouldn't have allowed such a liberty. The fact that I am sitting here so calmly and looking at the sand of the arena instead of doing another training or meditation session is only due to my complete confidence in victory. Sometimes, I think that this kind of overconfidence will backfire one day. I need to take my opponents more seriously, no matter how assured I am in my victory.
The stands greeted Ronin with a soft hum of approval, in which expectation and anticipation were clearly felt. Everyone was waiting for another performance by the mask of the "Rising Dragon" school. The "past me" did not notice, and rather ignored, the artistry of the fencing master, focusing solely on functionality. For the current me, on the other hand, the outward manifestations of the "former teacher's" mastery were more intriguing. This is because, through the prism of the Five Stars in the spear, I also gained an understanding that beauty - not pretentiousness, not ostentation, but the actual beauty of movements in battle - is a sign of correct and timely actions.
Can one be an effective fighter while disregarding aesthetics? Of course, the example of "my past self" confirms this. But at this point, it seems to me that striving to reach the true heights of mastery by understanding only the functional aspect of martial arts is a flawed approach. Now, thanks to the experience of the "future," I was able to see beyond Ronin's actions, something that previously eluded "me." The "past me" considered the fencing master a bit theatrical, prioritizing style over function, and saw this as the teacher's main flaw. But now, I clearly understand that Ronin didn't strive to make his movements look beautiful and aesthetic. No, for him, it was as natural as breathing. One could say that the beauty of fencing was the style he adhered to. I think the fencing master himself didn't fully comprehend this or couldn't even articulate it to himself. Perhaps that's why he never insisted on his students performing exercises beautifully or aiming for beauty in their movements. And now, watching Ronin's fights from the spectator's seats, I was learning. I was grasping what I had missed in the Past Cycle. Learning the beauty of martial arts. The aesthetics of fencing. And today's duel did not disappoint me in this regard.
Kuang Ngia, as Ronin's opponent was named, charged into attack as soon as the announcer signaled the start of the duel. And one could understand him, as the cleavers in his hands were clearly shorter than the fencing master's pole. Only a rapid closing of distance and constant pressure allowed Kuang to seize the initiative.
What would I do if I were in Ronin's place? If I wanted to end the fight quickly, I would have launched a counterattack in the last separating meters. I would have disrupted the attacker's momentum with strikes to his legs, and then, having completely taken the initiative into my hands, I would have brought the fight to its logical conclusion. On the contrary, if my plan was to prolong the duel, I would play with the distance, not letting the enemy close. Not giving him even a chance to reach me with his cleavers. I would exhaust him until he burned out and then take him down "bare-handed."
But Ronin acted in his own way. He didn't counter-attack or attempt to increase distance. The fencing master just stood his ground. The earthling met his opponent not with a strike to the legs but with an attack to the chest. Even I was taken aback. Machetes are fast and nimble weapons, and it wouldn't be difficult to deflect such a straightforward attack with them. And Kuang Ngia did deflect it. But then came another attack, and then another. In a battle between paired short weapons and a long polearm, you'd expect the one needing to close the distance to be the aggressor. It made sense. But Ronin flipped everything upside down. With three swift thrusts, he stopped Kuang's attacking momentum, then took a step forward and attacked again. Furthermore, Ronin focused his attacks exclusively on the torso. Yes, he shifted the direction of his thrusts and strikes, sometimes aiming for the shoulders, sometimes the waist, sometimes the center of the chest. But I saw that the earthling consciously ignored other parts of his enemy's body, even though he could easily reach the knees or strike at the palms. Instead of diversifying his strike zone, the fencing master, as if toying with his opponent, only aimed for the torso.
And each of his strikes was parried as expected. Dual machetes are quick enough to be where they need to be if attacks come solely for the torso. To break through the web of blocks they formed, you would need to pull apart their wielder's focus, attacking in different planes, going for the legs, then the arms, then the head. But for Ronin, it seemed that there were no other strike zones than the torso.
My "past self" would say that such a combat strategy is foolish. My current self saw why Ronin did this. The earthling's staff attacked relentlessly, swiftly, sharply, powerfully. And under this pressure, his opponent retreated. But while retreating, he continued to hold his ground. The broad blades of his machetes were able to protect their wielder. The two fighters barely moved, only taking occasional steps forward or backward. But their weapons, on the other hand, were flashing like lightning. The contrast between their nearly motionless bodies and the swift flight of their weapons was mesmerizing. Even for me. Not to mention the spectators in the stands. It was like an old movie in which Bruce Lee engages in extremely close combat, and your eyes barely have time to follow his attacks and blocks.
May the questers take me, but it was enchanting!
From the first moments of the fight, it was clear who would win. But Ronin's unconventional strategy for this duel made it so that even though you knew how it would end from the first second, you still found it fascinating to watch. And the fact that the earthling did not deviate from the initial strategy and brought the fight to a victory with a strike to the center of Kuang Ngia's chest, eventually breaking through the two-handed fighter's defense, was a truly beautiful ending.
The audience didn't just give a round of applause to the mask of the "Rising Dragon" school - they did it standing up. And even I succumbed to this urge.
[1] TLN: there was a lengthy (dozens of comments) discussion between the author and one of the readers about whether such a weapon can be called "swift." The interesting part of it was that the author eventually clarified what he meant by that name, which differed from what most readers imagined. It also applies to volume 2, where boatswain Aig, whom Raven defeated with the Sacred Knowledge trick, used two of such weapons. In the original, the weapon name means rather "cleaver," and most imagine the usual massive rectangular meat cleavers. ChatGPT translated it as "cutlass," and it made more sense to me, so I just kept it. In this case, I chose a "machete." In fact, cutlass means not just a saber but also a big knife (messer, machete), and the author meant the latter. They were often wielded by sailors and pirates, and some versions weren't heavy, about 700-800g. And these are the images shared by the author: https://cm.author.today/content/2023/07/07/acc577891ce14ae4bb422cfc3d1963fc.png https://cm.author.today/content/2023/07/07/be62ab733a924bf488661e35c74397a3.jpg