74. Round One

Isaac winced as yet another chunk of the platform came flying loose, mercifully landing just short of hitting the stands. Though, judging by the excited cheers from the front row spectators, he suspected they wouldn’t have minded much to begin with.

The human, who was named Cedric according to his stat sheet, let out a frustrated yell and yanked his sword out of the cracked platform. The demon (who was named Villard), on the other hand, lazily dodged out of the way, performing a flying backflip with a toothy grin on his face. What Isaac had originally thought were tails were, indeed, a whole lot of tails, but the demon also seemed to use them to control his flight. From what Isaac could tell, the demon used some sort of levitation magic that wasn’t as maneuverable or versatile as actual flight, but compensated by using his tails to steer himself. Which he supposed he didn’t actually need to guess on; it was listed right there, [SKILL LEVITATION LVL 22].

“Would you just stay still, you purple piece of shit!” Cedric yelled. His sword lit up with green flames again. He drew the weapon backwards and swung it like a bat, sending the fire jetting off in a condensed ball that Villard casually dodged.

“It’s indigo, actually,” the demon said snidely. A second fireball was his answer, which he once again easily avoided.

“Do you think they’ll finish any time soon?” Yarrow whispered. Isaac raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting to the two’s stat sheets.

NAME: CEDRIC

SPECIES: HUMAN

LOCATION: SOLONELL CITY, SILVER LINE

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ATTACK: 17

SPEED: 11

SKILL: 12

DEFENSE: 12

INSTINCT: 15

INTELLIGENCE: 13

STAMINA: 13

CALCULATED LEVEL: 21

NAME: VILLARD

SPECIES: DEMON

LOCATION: THE INFERNO, RED LINE

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ATTACK: 13

SPEED: 17

SKILL: 15

DEFENSE: 13

INSTINCT: 14

INTELLIGENCE: 14

STAMINA: 9

CALCULATED LEVEL: 22

The two were only one level off from one another, which was evident in how long the match had lasted so far. That being said, Villard had the advantage, not just in level, but primarily in speed. He’d taken to the skies immediately once the match had begun, probably to scope out his opponent’s abilities before risking a direct attack, but he should have enough of a speed advantage to easily land a hit and end the match once he was satisfied that there weren’t any secret traps to be cautious of.

“It’ll probably be over soon,” Isaac said. Villard didn’t have very high stamina, and his maneuvers, while still showy, were slightly smaller in scale than in the beginning of the match, indicating that he was probably more tired than he was letting on. He would have to attack soon. That, and Cedric was growing increasingly frustrated and reckless. Isaac could see the demon’s eyes closely scanning his opponent on the big screens, waiting for a sure fire opening. He was being rather cautious, maybe excessively so, but Isaac supposed losing in the first match might feel embarrassing.

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Cedric released another frustrated yell, easily audible in the stands. His sword glowed, and a spiral of flame coiled down his arms and encased the whole blade in a vibrant, nearly blinding emerald shade. It was so bright that it stood out even over the illuminated platform, and Isaac could practically feel the heat from where he was seated. The man swung his arm up, about to launch the fireball, but this swing was much wider and more wild than the ones that had come before. On the screen, Villard’s eyes honed in on the opening, and the demon dove down.

Several things happened at once. One of Villard’s tails extended out, pointed and poised to attack as he drew closer. Cedric’s eyes flew to the quickly approaching demon at the same time. In a reflexive reaction, he swung the sword down instead, stabbing it into the earth with his entire weight just as the demon’s whip-like tail came barreling towards him.

When Villard was mere feet away, the ground surrounding them erupted into flames, all stemming from the newly created point where metal met earth. Green filled Isaac’s vision, crackling flames cloaking Cedric in a shroud.

Villard made a surprised grunt, just barely managing to hurl himself back in time to avoid being touched by the fire. He stumbled, off balance from the abrupt landing, and Cedric shot up and ran through the flames without pause.

Villard’s solid green eyes flashed in panic as the human’s blade came slamming down, and Isaac could see the demon silently brace himself for impact.

And then, a mere few inches before the sword could touch skin, it stopped.

Isaac blinked as the sword was suddenly pulled away. Cedric stepped back, a strange look on his face. His next words only added to Isaac’s growing confusion.

“I forfeit,” the man called. The words rang clearly across the hushed arena, sounding many times louder than they were. The odd expression hadn’t gone away. He stashed his sword back into its sheath and turned away to exit the arena without another word.

Isaac frowned, his eyes darting over to Villard. The demon’s gaze was fixed on his opponent’s retreating back. And then, Isaac watched as a look of understanding washed over his features. Isaac returned his attention to Cedric and noticed a faint, fading golden glow emanating from his tattoo. The mark returned to its usual inky black in less than a second.

“Well that was anticlimactic.” Fable’s crackling voice resounded over the speaker. They sighed exaggeratedly, followed by a loud snap. The glow of the platform died down, and the earth trembled. Villard quickly took to the sky again as the ground beneath him began to mend itself, new dirt pooling into the cracks and then smoothing over until it was once again a perfectly flat plain. On the projector screen, the two stat sheets were wiped away and the words, [VICTOR: VILLARD], flashed across the screen instead.

The microphone screeched. “I’m sure the bettors’re in shambles, but anyways that’s the first match, so everyone go, like, applaud or something.”

Fable’s words were followed by an incredibly unenthusiastic sounding clap that was partially muffled from what Isaac assumed were the Traveler’s gloves. He heard a few murmurs around him, but eventually the spectators clapped as well. Yarrow was staring at their hands as they did so, brows furrowed in confusion, and Isaac supposed that the concept of applause was probably a human thing in the Underside.

“That was terrible. Keep it up.” Another piercing screech. “Well, anticlimax aside, the next match is up, so get to it!”

Sure enough, the large projector screen glowed gold, the lights swirling together in preparation for the countdown. Isaac, however, found that quite a bit of his earlier enthusiasm had drained away. His eyes drifted over to Yarrow.

“Hey, do you know what that was about just now? With the match?” he asked.

The fey blinked and turned to face him. “Oh, that!” They hummed in thought. “I think the human forfeited because he realized he wouldn’t be able to land a hit without killing intent. His tattoo was glowing, so he was probably close to breaking System rules. Uh, something like that.”

Isaac frowned as he thought over the words. That did line up with the faint glow from the tattoo and the sudden change in attitude. He found his eyes instinctively returning to where the man had exited the arena, but he’d long slipped back into the crowd. “I’m surprised he was able to stop so easily,” he commented. Based on the brief match, he hadn’t gotten the impression that the man had that sort of restraint.

“I think it’s more like, people really don’t want to mess with the System. It’s a pretty big deterrent, you know?” The fey made a vague gesture and gave Isaac a look that said, “you get it, right?”

He really didn’t, he realized. He was a foreigner to the Underside who had never lived under the restrictions of the System. He didn’t know what things were like before it was in place and how hard it had been for the residents of the Underside to adjust afterwards, and he doubted he’d ever fully be able to understand.

It was that separation that enabled him to avoid all the feuds and fights and the history that was becoming increasingly complicated the more he learned about it. It was that separation that allowed him to return to Chrowall without a second thought. We’ve all got attachments. Casimir’s voice suddenly rose from the recesses of his memory. Isaac frowned. That day, standing on the platform surrounded by the broken pillar, seemed so long ago now. After everything that had happened with Olzu, agreeing with the angel left a sour taste in his mouth.

Still, a small, nagging part of him couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be just another resident of the Underside. What it would mean to watch the merfolk and fae feud with perfect understanding of their history, to listen to Igor’s stories about Solonell City and have it be part of his own home’s past instead of simply viewing it as a distant onlooker.

He thought of a lonely headstone, surrounded by the flowers of neighboring graves, and the smell of burning tires. Isaac shook his head and attempted to push the thoughts away. He turned to face Yarrow, who was still waiting for a response with an almost hopeful expression on their face. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I get it.”