Zalan imbued himself with a thin layer of lightning, ready to share the power for the first time in public.
“Raah!” Leon ran forward and threw out a ball of fire immediately, trying to catch Zalan off guard.
Zalan was almost relieved to have his opponent come after him so quickly. He had spent too many nights of training with Nold, where Nold had consistently jumped straight into combat. He couldn’t imagine what it would take to start a fight by shaping one another up to try and detect the first move before finally attacking. He was surprised to see his opponent use an Elemental Power so early when he had been taught to avoid it. Perhaps Leon was overconfident?
Leon’s fire was large, but surprisingly slow, like he didn’t put much effort into it. Zalan easily slid out of the way, suspecting that Leon was trying to distract him and was preparing to throw a larger, faster fireball now.
To Zalan’s surprise, Leon was still running toward him, not throwing additional flames. By now, Nold would have thrown enough flames to burn down a city, but Zalan felt like he had the opportunity to breathe. He was supposed to be bobbing and weaving through dozens of attacks right now. It was strange. His nerves put him on edge and his frustration fueled the lightning he was imbuing in himself. Leon was going way too easy on him for some reason. Zalan decided to stand his ground and wait for his opponent rather than try anything rash by going on the offensive. Nold had dealt Zalan many bruising blows from his overzealousness in sparring matches.
Leon had closed the gap between them, Zalan having waited patiently for him to cross the arena. He threw a punch to Zalan’s stomach.
“Raah!” Leon called again, as he put his weight behind his fist.
A ball of flame emitted from his hand the same time that Zalan easily avoided it, taking a few steps to the side. Zalan was eyeing him up and down, trying to understand why Leon was throwing balls of fire instead of imbuing himself in flame. Perhaps Leon had mastered the ability to imbue and was invisible to the naked eye. Leon turned his body around clumsily and threw another punch Zalan’s way.
Zalan knew something was wrong now. Leon should have thrown a kick while turning instead of punching. It took two motions for a turn and punch, where a kick would have been both an attack and a turn. Zalan took a step back and leaned away from another ball of flame.
“Why do you refrain from attacking? You cower like a bug,” Leon said confidently.
“Oh, right,” Zalan said, suddenly realizing he hadn’t tried trading any blows.
Leon shouted bravely as he threw another punch at Zalan’s chest. Instead of a simple sidestep, Zalan knelt forward, ducking under the fist. As Leon’s eyes came downward to track him, Zalan slammed a lightning-imbued fist into Leon’s chest.
“Aarr!” Leon yelped in shock, stumbling back a foot. Zalan’s opponent fell to the ground and twitched involuntarily for a few seconds.
“W… what was that?” Leon gasped, horrified by the tingling feeling in his veins.
He laid on the arena floor, breathing heavily. His eyes were wide and looking deeply into Zalan’s blank expression. He was trying to keep a straight face in order to look intimidating the way Gorb had often done. Zalan didn’t reply to Leon’s question. He stepped forward to try and kick him with a shocking kick.
“Wait! I yield! Mercy!” Leon said, covering his face.
Zalan stopped, hands lowering at his side in unexpected disappointment as he stared in confusion.
“Seriously?” Zalan asked, depowering himself of the lightning running over his skin.
“We have a winner!” Umdarr jumped back up to the stage with the assistance of his air power. “Zandar!” He called with his amplified voice.
There was a confused smatter of applause from the audience, most of them unconvinced by what they saw. After all of Leon’s big talk, a single punch took him down.
“What kind of fight was that?” Zalan heard someone call from the audience. He could feel the tension growing among the onlookers who expected a much more exciting fight to kick off the tournament.
“Well done Zandar,” Umdarr said at a volume so only Zalan could hear. “Here is your prize money.”
Umdarr deposited five bronze coins into his hand. Zalan stared at it awkwardly. This was the first time he’d earned money from another human being in this world. There was no reason for it to feel as wrong as it did. But he felt like money should be distributed among the people who belonged to this realm instead of visitors.
“Oh, uh…” he didn’t realize he would be receiving money for winning fights. He decided to drop his question about prize money to discuss something more important. “My name isn’t Zandar,” Zalan said.
“Then why did you tell me it was?” Umdarr asked, miffed.
“I didn’t!”
“I asked for your name at registration. You must have written it down wrong,” Umdarr said.
“I didn’t write it down—”
“Stop your games, I need to keep the tournament moving. You and Leon need to get off the arena for the next fighters,” Umdarr said seriously.
“Sure, fine, just remember my name is Zalan next time you call me up,” Zalan said.
“Zalan. Fine. Got it,” Umdarr said quickly to dismiss him.
Zalan made his way toward the nearest set of stairs. He passed by Leon who was lying flat on the floor, staring at the sky in dejection. He was broken in some way. The image was sickeningly familiar. It reminded Zalan of himself before he entered the realm. Staring up in helpless agony. Zalan turned himself around and made his way over to Leon.
The audience grew interested, quieting down. They watched intently for how Zalan would ruthlessly insult his first opponent.
“What is it you want?” Leon asked, frustrated. Even the frustration sounded familiar to Zalan. He wouldn’t look Zalan in his eyes.
“Good fight,” Zalan said.
“Good fight?” Leon scoffed. “I yielded after a single blow.”
“Sure, but…” Zalan tried to think of an honest compliment. “I never fought anyone like you before.”
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Zalan hoped he wouldn’t read through the fake compliment. Leon raised his head, a wary look on his face.
“You are serious?” Leon asked.
“For sure,” Zalan said sincerely, holding out a hand to help Leon up.
Leon raised a hand slowly and tapped Zalan’s finger lightly. He recoiled quickly, waiting to see if his body would feel more electric shock run through it. When nothing happened, Leon took the hand and allowed Zalan to help him up.
“I have never had a fighter tell me that we had a good fight after they defeated me,” Leon admitted.
Zalan understood now why he and Leon were getting so many stares as they exited the arena. He made sure to grab the Homeseeker as he passed by it.
“Oh. Well, maybe you never fought as well as you did today,” Zalan suggested. He felt like he needed to add something more to make Leon feel better. “You uhhh… want the prize money?”
“You are serious?” Leon looked at the bronze coins, confused. “The audience watches you closely. The simple act of comradery already drives their suspicions. This would look like an open bribe for me to have forfeited.”
“Oh,” Zalan looked up at the audience, many of them clearly staring at the duo. “Right. Thanks for the heads up.”
“And thank you. For the good fight,” Leon said. He looked up at the audience, and frowned with slight discomfort. “My mentor calls for me. Farewell Zandar! Fight well!” Leon called as he ran up to the crowd.
“No, wait, my name isn’t…” Zalan sighed as he realized Leon was way too far to still hear him.
He scanned the audience above the crowd, trying to find Nold or Rep. In a few moments, he saw Rep standing and waving his arms to get his attention. He was next to Nold, who was watching Zalan with arms folded. Zalan waved back and rushed to meet them in the bleacher-like stones
The view from the audience’s perspective was much less intimidating. Zalan could easily see the entire arena without feeling like the eyes of the world were cast upon him. The audience was also much larger than he originally presumed. From his view from the arena, they looked to be something like a few hundred people, but it was easily at least a thousand. While walking through, he could hear people exchanging theories and strategies of both past and present fighters. Zalan realized the tournament was probably treated exactly like sports were in his world.
“Good fight!” Rep said, excited.
Nold shrugged indecisively.
“He was fighting really weirdly, like he wasn’t focused on winning,” Zalan said, hoping for an explanation.
“I saw that,” Rep agreed. “I thought it was just from my perspective from above. He was rather undisciplined in his fighting style. Stiff and slow. Perhaps he was nervous.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Zalan shrugged it off.
“Our next bout will begin shortly. The fighters will have one minute to enter the ring after having their name called. On this end at a Level of 5 will be the RazorTongue Eradicator… Rep!” Umdarr’s voice boomed clear through the audience.
“Oh no,” Rep swallowed hard.
“You’ll do great,” Zalan assured him, pushing him to make sure he would enter the ring in time.
“And on this end of the arena. Also at the Level of 5… The Arrow of Amazing Strength… Adrumsol!”
Zalan sat down next to Nold who was watching with a keen eye. Rep and Adrumsol stepped onto the arena and waited for Umdarr. Umdarr instructed them to show one another respect. Rep and Adrumsol both placed a fist in an open palm. Zalan was relieved to see that he could just keep doing that same gesture for the rest of the tournament.
“What’s the gesture of respect thing for? Did the Elementals add that when they ran the tournament?” Zalan asked Nold. “I feel like the fighters would still banter and disrespect one another mid-fight despite whatever hand symbol they did to begin with.”
“The gesture is a simple way of saying that you mean someone no harm. Your fist is a weapon and you are covering it in a sign of respect and peace,” Nold replied, his eyes watching Rep closely.
“But we literally came to the tournament to beat each other up,” Zalan said, puzzled.
“The Elementals had no limits in the tournament. It was valid to kill one another in battle without disqualification. In fact, there was no such thing as ‘out of bounds’ either. You fought until incapacitated or dead. Today, you fight, but have no intent to kill one another,” Nold added.
Zalan nodded, satisfied with the reply.
“Begin!” Umdarr called to the audience’s approval.
Rep and Adrumsol took slow steps toward one another, sizing one another up. As they closed the distance between them, the audience grew quiet. They stopped a few paces away from one another, out of striking distance. Adrumsol threw an open palm forward quickly, as though he was going to use an Elemental ability and Rep dipped low to get out of the way. The move was a feint just to get Rep off balance. As Rep righted himself, Adrumsol ran forward and punched. Rep leaned out of the way and punched back. Adrumsol took the fist into his shoulder and made moves backward to get some distance.
Rep remained in place, holding one arm up defensively.
“Rep should not allow him to catch his breath like that,” Nold said over the excited crowd as Adrumsol created a new gap between them.
“I think he’s defending his bad shoulder, making sure not to overexert himself,” Zalan said.
“His caution may cost him a fast win. A slow win is an exhausting one.”
“But you think he’ll win?” Zalan asked, excited.
Nold said nothing, watching intently.
Adrumsol assessed Rep a few quiet seconds then ran forward and blasted water from his palm. Rep dipped to one side, getting out of the way, but then Adrumsol threw more water from his other hand. Rep grunted in frustration as he took a glazing blow on his bad shoulder from the rush of water, mostly dodging it. Zalan watched closely as Rep was able to get to a comfortable distance away from the blasting radius of the water.
“How come Adrumsol didn’t just shoot water from his feet? He could have got Rep off guard,” Zalan asked.
Nold didn’t reply.
“And he isn’t curving the water,” Zalan added.
“You assume he knows how,” Nold noted.
Zalan’s eyebrows descended in surprise. He hadn’t considered that his opponents wouldn’t know these techniques. Nold drilled them like they would be fighting the best experts there were. But they seemed to be fighting a lot like Zalan used to before he met his instructor. They might actually be amateurs.
Rep closed the gap between himself and Adrumsol in a surprising rush, delivering a series of punches to his chest. Adrumsol tried to use water to break the flow of attack, but Rep blocked it with his hands and instead dealt a strong kick to his stomach. Adrumsol bowled over in pain. In a few seconds, he jumped back up, throwing more water at Rep’s face to blind him. Rep sidestepped it and kicked his opponent even harder in the stomach. Adrumsol cried out in pain and fell to his back.
Rep looked as though he was going to kick him again to make sure he stayed down, then got nervous and backed off a step.
“He is too merciful,” Nold stated.
Zalan heard the annoyance in Nold’s voice, but he was proud of his friend. He felt weird about hurting someone when they were clearly weaker, even if it was allowed in the tournament.
The audience was going nuts, screaming for Adrumsol to get back to his feet, but he continued to clutch his stomach and cough. He was declared the loser when he remained on the ground for ten seconds. The audience roared for Rep, much more satisfied to see more than a single punch able to take down an opponent. Rep looked at his hands and feet in fascination, like he had never seen them before. He looked up to Zalan and shrugged, looking confused.
He accepted the money, thanked Adrumsol for the fight, then rushed up the steps to Zalan to talk about the battle.
“Did you see that? He was not using his feet! I do not think I would have won otherwise. He must have forgotten,” Rep said, stunned.
“Yeah, you did great,” Zalan said, smiling.
“But he was going so easy on me. I do not understand why,” Rep shook his head.
“It is not that they are going easy on you. They tried their hardest. But they are average fighters,” Nold answered with a slight smirk.
Rep and Zalan looked to their instructor, then to one another. The implication clawed its way into their brains. They had been over prepared for the Level 5 and Under tournament. They might actually stand a chance in the Level 10 bracket, if that was the case. A small smile began to creep on both Rep and Zalan’s faces.
“Rep… I think this means we’re good fighters,” Zalan deduced from Nold’s words.
“Well… at least above average,” Rep grinned widely.