The cavern was dark; obscured by the Dragon’s Veil, even the Wellspring’s light was dimmed to the point of near invisibility. The darkness was yet another form of manipulation, eliminating distraction and drawing his focus inward, keeping it limited to the arena shining white in the spotlight, and the other… being stuck in here with him.

“Ridiculous.” The laugh rose unbidden, a soft chuckle escaping him before he could restrain it.

As if mere lack of sight could make him forget, could keep him from feeling the judgemental gazes of the so-called Masters, looking down from their oh-so-exalted thrones.

“Hiding won’t keep you safe.”

Nothing would. When he finally reached the pinnacle, finally claimed his place on one of those ugly hunks of obsidian, he would finally be able to change things. All he had to do, was win.

Enough, he thought.

While the Dragon’s Veil might not be able to seal his senses completely, he did need to focus. After eight long years, countless bruises, broken bones, and scars, he could not afford to let inattention steal victory from his grasp.

“Nameless One,” a voice echoed from above them, wise and stern, a lie in itself, as he knew the one who uttered it. “Habu, do you understand the nature of this duel?”

His jaw clenched at the designation, but he resisted. Soon, he would have his name back, that and so much more.

“No restrictions,” he spoke grimly. That would be the key to this duel. Any strategy was permitted here, any technique, no matter how brutal, no matter how dishonorable, no matter how… dangerous.

“To the death.” Habu’s voice was soft, silky, even seductive if not for the smile that accompanied it. An evil grin, promising pain and death, though knowing her, the death part would be held off for as long as possible. Sadistic witch.

“To the victor goes the spoils” the overgrown lizard’s voice rumbled again… “BEGIN!”

The two warriors rushed toward each other in an explosive burst, their two styles equally reliant on enhanced movement. In the straight rush, Habu showed herself to be the faster of the two, shifting into a low, wavering stance as her momentum continued to carry her forward, feet sliding along the smooth marble.

The young man opposing her, however, never stopped his sprint, instead accelerating further, on a direct collision course with his enemy.

The already wide grin stretched further unnaturally, baring two, elongated teeth that glinted in the spotlighted arena, their predatory gleam matching the light of victory that shone from her eyes. Who would have thought that her challenger, the student of the legendary Mongoose herself, would be foolish enough to use brute force against her, the Queen Viper herself?

No one would, of course, and with good reason, as the Nameless did no such thing. The Viper’s feet left the floor in a lazy leap, meant to absorb the force of his charge and initiate a strangling grapple, only to meet empty air as the young man dropped into an unorthodox slide, avoiding her completely.

The sliding move was new, inefficient, and entirely situational. In other words, it was something that none of the watching Masters had ever seen before. Of course, if any of the old farts were interested enough in the mundane world outside of their little society, they might have seen a similar technique commonly used by baseball players.

Having cleared the vicious woman’s leaping form, Nameless twisted his leg, allowing the toes of his leading foot to dig into the ground, and used his forward momentum to pull himself into a sprinter’s stance. Set into position, he pushed off again, like a spring releasing tension, to continue sprinting in the exact opposite direction, even his supernaturally enhanced tendons screaming under the rigors of the unnatural movement.

Briefly, he considered repairing the slight damage, a simple flex of energy that would cost but a moment, but held off. The strain was minor, not enough to affect him immediately, and immediately was all that mattered.

Instead, the young man pushed harder, rushing to reach his opponent’s blind spot, to position himself perfectly.

^V^V^ 

Habu suffered barely a moment of shock, instantly mastering her emotions, keeping her bloodlust flowing steadily. So the dirty beast’s spawn had a little cleverness after all. No matter. Even the cleverest rat was no match for serpent’s venom.

She twisted as she landed, straining to keep her attacker in the corner of her eye, his constantly shifting speed and direction making him hard to keep account of. How was he so fast? It was like fighting...

OH THAT DECEITFUL LITTLE--

Monkey must have trained him. No self-taught amature could move like this, no matter how talented!

Realizing her miscalculation, Habu shifted tactics. She could deal with Monkey’s style, no matter how annoying it would be. He wasn’t even very good at it, using her blind spot to keep her from attacking, instead of using the style’s nimbleness to dodge them completely.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Fine, then. If he thought that staying behind her would protect him, then he was sorely mistaken. The Viper Style didn’t need accuracy or precision. She didn’t even need to see her enemy. A single strike was all she needed to kill his master, and it was all she would need to kill this sniveling, little, weak--

So fast that she interrupted her own thought process, Habu left her feet, flipping upside down to face the opposite direction so fast that her opponent could not hide from her. Extending a single finger from a tight half-fist, she threw her arm forward into his center of mass, committing everything to a lightning fast, unavoidable strike. Not even Master Monkey could dodge this. Not even Master Mantis could deflect it. Not even--

She felt it before she saw it, instantly recognizing yet another betrayal. Focusing her eyes, she could clearly see the hand grasping her wrist in a familiar lock, stopping her fingers a bare whisker away from the young man’s sternum.

“Eagle, you traito--” was all she could get out before her enemy twisted, forcing her arm around into a painful, and inescapable, combination joint lock.

“It’s over,” the Nameless declared, using only one hand to hold his opponent in place.

His enemy only smirked. What a fool, to believe that he could capture a Viper with a joint-lock. Her foot flashed up at an impossible angle, bare toes flexed into a compact edge. The Nameless shifted with her, his other hand blurring as it flew to grab her ankle in yet another Eagle Claw.

This was exactly what she wanted, as she retained one free hand to his none. Lashing out, she finally delivered the strike that would end this, only to be thrown off by the sudden shift in momentum as he lifted her overhead with superhuman strength and brought her crashing to the ground with crushing impact.

Bear. Of course that bleeding heart would have joined the others in helping this whelp. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel betrayed.

Again, she felt herself lifted into the air, only to crash down.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Even Habu’s supernaturally flexible bones and ligaments began to crack and strain from the repeated trauma, until she was too brutalized to even move. “P-please,” she whispered. “M-master...”

^V^V^

The Nameless young man noticed as the Veil lifted, releasing his enemy-turned-victim and taking a quick step to the side, out of her reach, just in case. Looking up, he could finally see the nine black thrones, one of them empty, its Master eight years dead.

At the center of those seats, on a raised dias indicating his preeminence as the grandmaster, the Dragon sat, his shadow wings draped around him like a cloak. The victorious fighter’s eyes blazed with hatred toward the unnaturally-young-looking Grandmaster, who gazed back with an apathy bordering on contempt.

“The Viper is defeated,” the Dragon said, with a voice revealing nothing but a faint sense of boredom. “As victor, I grant you a name: finish her, Master Mongoose, and take your place at your master’s seat.”

“M-master!” Habu gasped, her voice betraying the pain his disregard brought her.

Heh. How like the Dragon to abandon his pupil as soon as she was no longer of use to him. The young man grunted slightly as he bent to grab his opponent, the damage caused by his earlier exertion beginning to take effect.

Ignoring it, he lifted Habu by her arms and legs, gripping her wrists with one hand, and her ankles with the other. Laying her torso across his shoulders, he spoke.

“After further review, I have come to a realization: you guys suck. The entire Martial World sucks, and I want no part of it.”

The Dragon’s voice held an emotion other than boredom now, his eyes filled with anger. “Is that so? Well then, Mongoose, I hope that you are prepared to die. None who have the power of qi may ever leave the Martial World. That is our law.” The Dragon smiled grimly. “Of course, death severs all bonds.”

“There is another way out of the Martial World.” The warrior stated, satisfaction in his voice. “A way that has not been taken in many, many years.”

Straightening from his crouch, the man lifted his head toward the swirling mass of qi, hovering in in the air high above the arena. The Wellspring of qi was a legendary phenomenon, a warp in the fabric of the universe that funnelled qi from all across space, focusing it so densely that the resulting outpouring was actually visible to the naked eye.

The most ancient legends said that those who passed through the wellspring could come out of the other side with power beyond comprehension--these powerful individuals forming the origin of the Martial World. More recent experimentation had shown, however, that anyone who entered the Wellspring would be overwhelmed by the qi, having their meridians burned out and crippled.

Then, six hundred years ago, a new use was found for the wellspring. A talented new Master found that, by linking his meridians to the excess qi surrounding the wellspring, he could render himself both ageless and undying. Thus, the Immortal Dragon became the most powerful Master in the Martial World.

Today, however, was the day that his reign would end.

Dropping back to one knee, the newest Master of the Martial World focused internally. With utmost control, he began to manipulate his qi, forcibly cutting himself off from the one ability that his master was able to teach him before he died. With as much force as he could muster, he cut himself off from the World qi, the ambient energy produced by life itself. The ability to connect to the World qi, circulating it through one’s meridians without being overwhelmed by it, was the most closely guarded of his master’s techniques, but now he ended it. Focusing instead on his own, surprisingly small, internal reserves, he began to channel energy to first his cells, supercharging their reproduction, then the cells of his captured opponent. Sighing with relief as his injuries healed, he snickered at Habu’s shocked cry as she felt her bones mend.

Finally finished, the young master raised his head once more. “By the way,” he proclaimed, “my name is not Mongoose. I am Octavius Winters, and you can all suck it!”

As he cried out the last words, Octavius burned the last of his qi in an enormous leap, launching himself and Habu straight into the Wellspring.

Energy immediately rushed through his qi paths, filling them almost to bursting, and he heard two screams as his world filled with light. The first was Habu, crying out in pain as her pathways burst and were burned out by the energy.

The second, was Grandmaster’s cry of despair as the Wellspring’s rush into the two warriors destabilized the delicate connection linking his pathways to the life-giving qi.