With her first round opponent being one of the favorites to win the tournament, Linara found herself subjected to a series of incredibly easy fights. In the second round, she found an individual entirely encased in armor, clanking around and unable to keep up with her speed. Three sweeps at their armored legs dropped them three times, advancing Linara to the next round.

In the third round, her lightly-armored opponent advanced on her with two swords, swiping her defensive thrusts out of the way as he closed the distance. Stepping forward, Linara delivered an elbow to his chin, knocking him down. He did not get up, and two attendants came into the arena to drag him off.

The waits between each round became shorter as more and more entrants were eliminated, but it was still a long enough affair that by the time she walked out of her waiting room for the fourth time, she was hungry and the sky was dark. Torches topped the chest-high walls between the segments of the arena. A short fighter walked in after her, unarmed. She raised an eyebrow at him as she readied her weapon.

The man slowly advanced on her, circling. He wore vambraces that left his hands exposed, and a simple cloth wrapping around his chest. Linara wasn’t sure what to make of him, but given that he got to the fourth round, she figured she should expect something out of him.

As he finally made his move, a simple step forward, she raised her spear to ward him off with a defensive thrust, and he moved his hands upwards from his sides. The movement was sharp and sudden, ready for her attack. Reflexively, she stepped back rather than attack. He smiled at her, then lunged.

This time she committed to a light poke. He brought his hands up, pushing the point of her spear to the side with his open hand. Linara tried to muscle it back towards his body, but the man twisted, grabbing the shaft of her spear as it breezed past his torso, and pulled.

Linara let go.

The smile of victory on his face turned to surprise as he stumbled backwards, expecting a tug of war of some kind. Instead Linara surged forward, swinging her gauntleted fist at his face. He tumbled backwards, out of the way of her strike, before coming to his feet at a safe distance.

They squared off again, Linara not yet drawing her dagger. He probably won by taking advantage of people being unused to disarming attacks and hand to hand combat on his level. Proper, organized warfare had no place for that sort of thing, and tavern brawls did not come close to proper martial arts.

Hatharen warfare was far from proper, and she had taught Senral to be able to defend himself even if he had no weapons on hand. A one on one, unarmed fight was no stranger to her, and she’d rather engage the man that way than let him surprise her with one of her own weapons.

They moved towards each other, fists ready. With metal gauntlets, Linara’s punches were more dangerous, and she had a height and reach advantage. The short man ducked and weaved, throwing a punch at her unprotected face.

He must have sensed an opening, because he ducked low, hands out to the side, and tackled Linara to the ground, dropping both of them to dirt. Linara rolled, trying to pin the smaller man beneath her, but he slithered out of her grasp, coming to her feet. Did that count as a drop for each of them, or only for him? Scrambling to her feet, Linara faced him again, unsure.

He came at her again, once more avoiding her fists despite her advantage. She started to doubt her overconfidence to fight him on this level as he repeated the earlier move, taking her to the dirt for the second time. As she slammed into the ground, she grabbed her knife off her belt and swiped out, landing a cut along his back as he rolled away.

They both came to their feet again, Linara with her knife in her hand. Her opponent adjusted his stance, extending his arms into a more forward position before charging her again. He only needed to drop her one more time. Linara didn’t know if the same applied to her, but she did know that she had drawn blood once. If she did that two more times without letting him drop her, she’d win.

Dodging his advance, she tried to take another swing at his torso, only for him to turn into the attack, her blade drawing a long line across his forehead as he ducked towards her, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and stepping under her.

Using his leverage, he pulled her up and over, aiming to flip her over him and onto the ground. Halfway through the movement, she twisted, pulling out of his grasp as she flew through the air, pushing off the ground with one hand and landing in a crouch.

“Three cuts.” She said, standing up. During her brief flight, she had thrown her knife backwards, grazing the man’s arm. He stared at her in shock before shrugging. Beaten and blooded, he walked off the field without any help, while Linara collected her weapons and returned to her waiting room.

The middle-aged attendant was waiting for her. “Please return early tomorrow morning so you can continue with the rest of the rounds.”

“How many more?” Linara asked. Her nose hurt from the first fight, and now her back was sore from being slammed on the ground repeatedly.

“Eight competitors.”

Nodding, Linara walked back into the city.

George and Patram, no longer in uniform, were waiting for her, apparently aware of the exit closest to her room. “Seven to one on you winning the first fight! Absolutely massive!” George shouted, smiling as he trotted over to her.

“And what would the odds have been if I hadn’t been one of the first to enter?” Linara asked. The man’s child-like enthusiasm was difficult not to be swept up. His friend was also smiling.

“Not that much less, we figure. Five to one on you making it past the fourth round? Maybe four to one? We saved you the trouble of tiring yourself out in the slapfight beforehand.”

Linara nodded, finding herself smiling. In the end, they were right - the order of her opponents didn’t affect her that much, but might ruin it for the spectators. “I’m hungry. Buy me something nice to eat, since I made you so much richer.”

George looked to Patram, who looked back at him. “Well, George, are you going to take the lady to a fancy meal?”

“Well, yasee, I, um…”

Patram laughed. “George wants to say that he immediately bet everything on you winning the whole thing. Because he’s that confident in you. Take it as a compliment that he’s broke.”

She laughed. “And you? Were you less confident in me, and have some of your winnings to spare?”

“Not in the slightest.” He said, grinning. “I’m just more responsible and didn’t bet everything I had to begin with. I’ll buy dinner for the three of us, but it won’t be anything nice. Win the whole thing tomorrow and we’ll show you the best this city has to offer.”

“That sounds fair enough.” Linara nodded.

“It is not!” A high-pitched voice called out, and the three of them all turned to look in the direction it came from. “First thing you do after getting past the first day is NOT to go and let people feed you! What’s to say they didn’t bet against you and are about to feed you something strange?”

Linara instantly recognized the black-haired girl from the previous day and waved to her. “Don’t worry, these two are the reason I’m in this to begin with.”

“Yeah!” George spoke up. “Linara didn’t even know about this whole thing before we told her about it!”

“And we aren’t stupid enough to let anyone do anything to her. Going to a place I trust, and not letting them see her until after we get food.”

The girl came to a stop next to the three of them. “Linara, will you train me?”

“Hey,” Patram started, pointing towards the girl. “No solicitation of those still in the competition. You know the rules.”

“I met her yesterday, before the competition started. So we were already talking about this.” The girl countered.

Linara frowned, opening her mouth to immediately deny the girl, but something stopped her. A memory. Ferene asking the same thing, months ago. She had trained Senral, personally. There was a special connection there, something she hadn’t wanted to taint with the memory of teaching anyone else. Her occasional training with the knights and castle guards didn’t come close to what would be needed.

She needed to put that behind her. There were plenty of other things she had only done with Senral. This was something she didn’t need to keep exclusive.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“I’ll do it.” She said, nodding. The girl’s face transformed, a massive smile breaking out as her eyes went wide in shock.

“Wait, you don’t need to answer her now. At least wait until tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” George added. “You’ll get a bunch of people asking tomorrow. If you’re willing to take someone on, you can find someone better than her.”

Linara turned to him. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with me?”

“W-well.” George stumbled over his words. “She’s not fresh, can see that. How many years, how many times has she been passed over? She’s short, and a girl. Not the best of the best, like you are.”

“Am I not also a girl?” Linara asked, stepping towards him and standing up fully.

George stopped, looking up at her. “Well, uh…not a human girl. I’m just saying, not everyone is, you know, like you.”

“She doesn’t need to be.” Linara said, turning towards the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Sal.”

“Just Sal?”

“Just Sal, yeah.” She looked away from Linara, and her face went dark.

Smiling at her, Linara reached out and rubbed Sal’s hair. “Well, Sal, why don’t you come eat with us? I’ll pay for your share. You can learn to trust these two, and they can learn that I don’t care if I get the very best or not.”

As she should have expected, the meal was fish, oddly coated in some kind of cooked crust. Linara took one bite and was surprised at how good it tasted, despite the oiliness of the dish.

Patram pulled her inside after their table had already been served, a large platter sitting in the center with a pile of crusted fish cuts on it. The other three showed little restraint, and Linara followed suit.

“So, Sal, how did you meet Linara?” Patram asked, leaning back in his chair.

The girl glared at him, then softened on seeing his expression. “She was in the stands yesterday. We had a chat.”

Linara took a break from eating to cut in. “I told her that if I made it through the day, I’d consider mentoring her.” The girl shot her a grateful look. Regardless of how relaxed the two looked right now, they were still guards and apparently Sal had broken some rules, so it was better for all of them if Linara went along with her lie. “I thought about it and figured that traveling with someone else would be better than traveling alone. Teaching is a good way to stay sharp.”

“Well.” Patram said. “I guess you have yourself an underling. Bavmont born and raised, are you?” He asked, turning back to Sal. The girl nodded as she ate.

“There’s seven others tomorrow.” George cut in. “Biggest threat is probably-“ He stopped as Linara held a hand up.

“I’d rather just go at it the same way as yesterday. Better than trying to remember all of that.”

“They certainly have people who watched that they will ask about you. Some of them may even try talking to your opponents. Six of them are either locals or regular entrants so they’re all known to each other, leaving you and one other as the unknowns. Why not even the field by learning what you can about them?” George and Sal both nodded in response to Patram’s words.

Linara just shrugged, picking up another chunk of fish. “It’s more interesting this way.” She grinned at George. “What good’s a bet if you aren’t at least a little worried about it?” Biting into her food, she watched his face twist in horror.

In the round of eight, Linara made her opponent look far less competent than the man actually was.

Under the morning sun, the two fighters stood across from each other in the dirt of the arena, the dividing walls removed to open up the full field. Both Linara and her opponent held spears, and approached each other in similar stances. When it came to both of them having similar height, the same reach, and an identical weapon, Linara’s mastery of the weapon proved an insurmountable obstacle. Every trick her opponent tried, she was ready for. It was apparent to her that he was skilled, but she gave him no room to demonstrate his competence.

There was only a short rest before she was called out again, to face her penultimate opponent. She found herself waiting in the arena, the crowd murmuring above her, her opponent nowhere in sight. She watched several attendants in their dark blue robes trot back and forth, before finally another woman was brought into the arena.

Linara kept her face even, but she wanted to frown. Her opponent’s slender body was wrapped in multiple belts holding an impressive number of throwing knives. Across her waist, from her right hip to her left shoulder, and two smaller belts around her thighs, all packed with knives. The woman stretched both of her arms upwards and yawned. She wore a sleeveless red shirt and tight pants, with no armor at all.

Linara ran at her, as fast as she could. Despite witnessing the show of lethargy, Linara did not see the start of the motion of the first throw. Her opponent was already tumbling backwards, one dagger bouncing off Linara’s spaulder.

In a way, wearing armor worked to her detriment. Thrown knives were unlikely to penetrate her mail, encouraging her opponent to focus on her unarmored head, where an unfortunate hit could end her life. Holding her weapon with one hand, she raised the other in front of her face, just in time to deflect another knife. The woman’s equipment gave her little chance of knocking Linara off her feet, so aiming for the face was the only path to victory.

It felt like the woman came into the arena with the intent to kill her opponents.

Watching the next movement, Linara threw her own knife. The Hatharen dagger was much longer than her opponent’s proper throwing knives, but years of practice made Linara extremely accurate. It skewered the woman’s outstretched wrist. The first cut.

Without any change of pace, the woman did yet another acrobatic flip, still putting distance between Linara and herself, and throwing yet another knife, this time with her left hand. Unprepared, Linara barely moved her head to the side to avoid it taking her through the eye, instead feeling a sting as it sliced through the flesh of her ear.

The increased size of the arena played into the woman’s fighting style, allowing her to run away all she wanted, sliding around Linara’s attacks with her agility. Twice Linara got in range, her weapon just barely missing as the woman twisted and flipped away from her, more like a stage performer than a fighter, but no less deadly as she continued to throw knives. The faster Linara ran, the harder it became to react to the incoming projectiles. Closing that final distance was the most dangerous, and the woman slipped away from her every time.

Finding herself once more at a longer distance, Linara advanced, waiting for a throw, but none came. Her opponent no longer threw haphazardly, after the first ten attempts only getting one hit. Linara figured that the woman probably didn’t have more than thirty knives total. Down a third or more of her ammo, and only getting one hit by surprising Linara with her ambidexterity, the math was against the unarmored woman.

“Hey!” The acrobat yelled across the arena. “What’s your name?”

Keeping her focus on the woman’s working hand, Linara responded. “Linara.” At this distance, there wasn’t an effective way for her to launch an unreactable surprise attack.

“Linara.” She said, grinning. “You’re too smart for this, you know? I can’t fight you up close when I only have one arm, and this little runaway game isn’t going in my favor.”

“What do you want to do about it?”

“This.” The woman held Linara’s knife in her good hand. She must have kept it after pulling it out of her own wrist. With deliberate showmanship, she cut her shoulder, twice, and lightly tossed the weapon back towards Linara. “Seems your blade cut me three times.”

“Seems like it did.” The crowd roared in anger, but Linara sighed. Too many factors were at play here. Did the woman want to tend to her injury instead of finishing the fight? Was she losing on purpose to win money on bets? Did she simply not care about the competition after getting to a certain point? Or did she actually think there was no chance to win?

It was over, regardless. Linara returned to her waiting room, only to be told that they would be holding the archery competition before the final match, so she had some time to wait, but could not leave the building. Shrugging, she left her room and started to walk around the ring, looking for signs of the other competitors.

After moving through a quarter of the circle and finding empty rooms, Linara finally located what she was looking for. The woman sat in a chair, her wounded arm held out to the side as a man stood over her, sewing her wrist back together.

While Linara had only just glanced into the room to check who was inside, the occupant called out to her. “Ah, the dark horse entrant. Come to have a look at your work?”

“I had some questions for you, actually.” Linara replied as she stepped into the room, leaning against the door frame.

“I’ll trade you, then, since I also have a few.” She smiled up at Linara, showing her teeth.

“Why’d you give up?”

The woman gestured with her working arm to her disabled one. “You took away my ability to win. Have to throw with both hands to beat someone like you. ‘Sides, even if I beat you, somehow, my chances of winning the next one with only one hand are even worse, probably. Now, tell me, your first fight of the day, was it against a large man with a giant axe? Wears a stupid looking hat.”

Linara shook her head.

“Ah, then you only took out one of the two people I’m here for. If he’s in the final round I’ll be mad you beat me.”

“Who is the other?”

“First man you dealt with. I’m told you broke his leg. Good work, that. Hate those two.”

Linara felt a draw of curiosity. Entering a competition like this, risking her life by not wearing any armor, for revenge? “What’s your story, then?”

“Yours first.” She pulled her hand away from the surgeon as he finished. The man looked up, saw Linara, and pointed at her ear. She waved a hand dismissively.

“I was passing through and a pair of guards told me to enter, so they could bet on me. I worked at the royal palace in Olentor.”

“King’s guard or something? Figures. Darian, your first opponent, I was part of his mercenary group. I started getting good, and he made me an offer. I refused it, and he kicked me out. Spun a story about it, too. Nobody else wanted to hire me, nobody wanted to work with me. Every six months I hope that I can meet him in the ring. Don’t really care about winning, but I’ve come pretty close every time anyway.” Standing up, she approached Linara. “Name’s Rella Galdran.”

Shaking Rella’s good hand, Linara nodded. “I’m Linara, from Aesuthal.”

“Never heard of it.”

She made a gesture at her whole ear. “Not a place humans know about. What about the man with the axe? My potential next opponent?”

Rella’s mouth turned down, and a low sound, something like a growl, escaping her throat. “That bastard I want to kill. Can’t touch him, not outside. He’s a murderer, and third in command of the largest mercenary group. Told his commander about what happened, and I got laughed at. He killed my parents.” There was a determined look in her eyes, an anger. It reminded Linara of Ferene. Rella was fighting to kill her opponents. Everyone except her targets was just practice for the real thing. “If you meet him, ruin his leg for me? Just like Darian. I’d love to see him crawl.”

Swallowing, Linara simply nodded.