Zalan’s heart went tight. It was time to take down Slauson. There was no alternative. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t see the placid look wiped off of Slauson’s face. Umdarr was running around the arena, throwing his arms up as the audience cheered him on. He circled around the arena twice. Slauson stood up calmly and made his way to the other side of the arena. Zalan watched him closely, checking to see if he did anything suspicious before Umdarr called for the match to begin. There had to be some trick to his cheating. Zalan’s insides were tight with apprehension. He was ready to explode with enough power to obliterate Slauson. At the end of the match, there would be nothing to carry off but his ashes.
“Allow me to call our esteemed semifinalists on stage. On this end, only at a mere Level 5 but fighting like a much better fighter… The Dealer of Dragon Death…” Umdarr looked over to Zalan and winked confidently. “Zalan!”
Zalan was too amped to care that Umdarr finally got his name right. The audience didn’t seem to be listening to Umdarr, as they all chanted different names as Zalan stepped up to the arena.
“Ziyard! Zandar! Zanlan! Zomar!” they chanted in succession, no one name overpowering the rest.
Umdarr shrugged sympathetically to Zalan, but Zalan didn’t care. He looked straight ahead, past all the puddles left behind by the previous fight. The arena was still bright with a sheen of water dumped there by Trentor. Zalan only cared to see Slauson rise up the steps to the arena. And then he only cared to take him down. He was trembling in place.
“And on this end… One of our most interesting fighters to date… Hardly fazed by a single fighter this entire tournament! At Level 7. The Slaw. Slauson!” Umdarr presented proudly.
Slauson walked up to the stage, the audience chanting his name. Slauson didn’t give them any mind, he simply looked across to Zalan. Not a hint of an expression on his face. Not a show of confidence. Not derision. Zalan was driven to the heights of fury, ready to unleash an entire storm on Slauson to delete the blank stare.
“Fighters! Show your fellow semifinalist some respect!” Umdarr demanded.
Reluctantly, Zalan placed a hand in a fist, but his face showed anything but respect for Slauson. Pure disdain exuded from his features. Slauson raised a hand to the sky and the audience shouted their approval as he bowed toward Zalan with his palm flat. Seeing it done to him, Zalan had a feeling that Slauson did it as another point of arrogance. Something to say “you’re lucky that I am even gracing you with my presence.” Like royalty presenting itself. Zalan hated it with every fiber of his being.
“Fighters… you may…” Umdarr said slowly, building the anticipation.
Zalan felt disturbed. Something was wrong. His insides felt off and his limbs were tight and cold. His eyes darted around in confusion. He had been watching Slauson so closely, but didn’t see what happened. His body was going wrong. Everything was freezing up.
“Begin!” Umdarr shouted, the audience applauding the beginning of the semifinals. He was off the stage in an instant, leaving only Slauson in Zalan’s gaze.
Zalan still couldn’t move. He was burning with rage, but was forced to keep it locked up within him. He tried his hardest to fight it, but was stuck in place.
Slauson breathed out as he prepared himself and Zalan screamed internally. Slauson regarded him and gave him a half raise of an eyebrow as a challenge. Slauson’s face was so clear to Zalan. That he had trapped Zalan somehow and all of Zalan’s accusations didn’t change that he was stuck in place. And his face drove Zalan to anger he didn’t know he could experience. He had to react.
He thought back to when he fought the Shell King. He was able to imbue his blade, then control it in the air to redirect it. He thought that maybe he could do the same with his arms. Imbue it in order to take control over it. Maybe if he could imbue his limbs, he could fight entirely with his Elemental Power redirecting his body’s every move. Even if his redirection wasn’t great, it would be better than standing helplessly in place.
Slauson began walking forward slowly. The crowd became deafening in calling for Zalan’s response.
Zalan sent lightning through his arms and recoiled in pain. It hurt to imbue himself. That wasn’t right. He knew he was emitting the energy right. Why was everything involving Slauson so wrong? He tried again, and felt the pain shred through his arms again, but this time he paid attention to the sting. He wasn’t hurting himself like he did before he mastered imbuing himself. Something was on top of his body, conducting the electricity he sent through himself and injuring him with his own Elemental Power. Zalan tried one more time, only to be met with more hurt, but the pain was subsiding with every attempt, like he was burning a small powder off of him with every attempt.
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Zalan was overwhelmed with a sickening realization. Events regarding this tournament were starting to make sense to him. He knew what was happening.
Slauson was halfway over, taking his time as the audience demanded that Zalan attack him.
“Hit him with lightning!” Zalan could made out over the people shouting.
“Move out of the way!” another called.
“Do something!” a third pleaded.
But Zalan was too distracted with the epiphany blazing through his outraged mind.
In every fight that Slauson was in, the fighters were fine as they approached the arena. But they froze as soon as the battle began. There was only one thing that Slauson did between stepping up to the arena and the battle beginning. His maddening, extravagant bow. It wasn’t a bow. Slauson was emitting something as he threw his hand forward, coating his opponent in that thing. As soon as Zalan came to that conclusion, he knew exactly what it was.
Ice! Slauson had two Elemental Powers. Fire and Ice.
The fire he was emitting was a ruse. He wanted people to think he had Elemental Fire so they would think that his trick had something to do with that power. But he was never using his fire in combat. It was always the Elemental Ice.
Everyone he met after fighting Slauson was cold to the touch. Slauson was draping his opponents in an immense amount of tiny, almost-invisible particles. Imbuing the body of his enemy. They were being covered in a powdery ice that Slauson would manipulate to freeze them in place. They were literally being frozen. Verum explicitly told Rep and Zalan exactly that! And that was why they all were shaking and shivering after each fight. None of it was intimidation. Slauson had no special look that made people stop in place. He was bowing to send out particles before the fight. In other words, he was attacking before the fight began with something so tiny that no one noticed.
Slauson was actually cheating.
Zalan realized that it went even deeper than that. Slauson ambushed people before the tournament began. He attacked them with enough Elemental Ice to drive them hypothermic. He was ready to kill potential competitors to win this tournament. Zalan had to save someone’s life because Slauson almost stopped his heart. Slauson was so keen to get the prize that people’s lives were nothing more than a surmountable obstacle. He reduced the amount of competitors. The reason they all fought at a Level 10 and Under bracket was Slauson’s fault.
Now that Zalan knew, he had to tell everyone. He needed Umdarr to hear that Slauson was cheating. He couldn’t move his mouth, much less shout over the noise the audience was making. Slauson was approaching, ready to defeat him in a single blow. He would be punched, then be left frozen on the ground until the ten count went off. Zalan fought against the locking sensation of the ice, but couldn’t find the strength to force himself out of it.
Then, he realized he only needed to free his mouth. If he imbued his mouth with enough lightning to burn off the tiny powder of snow that was stopping him from speaking, he could say enough to get Slauson disqualified and win the match. He braced himself. Slauson looked on as Zalan showed no signs of movement. He made a fist.
“You were so confident you would defeat me. I bet it was the old woman that told you that you stood a chance against me,” Slauson said with a hint of derision.
The words drove Zalan to new heights of rage. In his mental pathways, something crossed between Madam Hikma and Zalan’s mother. Almost as though Slauson had directly insulted his mother. He used that anger, just as he planned, and sent enormous shockwaves through his mouth, burning it wildly. He could brace all the pain he needed to in order to speak again. This was no longer about getting Slauson disqualified from the fight. He only wanted to see Slauson suffer now. He had insulted Zalan’s mother, and Slauson would bear the consequences of his actions.
The flow of lightning going through Zalan’s face was at first almost imperceptible, but the effects were quickly becoming clear. Slauson’s slow approach grew even slower as he stared in horror. Zalan’s mouth was becoming charred and black, burned from the power being sent through it. His mouth was letting out random sparks as he burned through the layer of ice. There was bloodlust in his eyes and he breathed manically, seething with rage. Slauson eventually recovered and took the last few steps toward Zalan.
Zalan had burned all the remaining ice off of his mouth, his face a ghoulish mix of scarred flesh and fury. He was almost free to speak. Slauson got in his stance to deliver a single punch to Zalan’s chest. He didn’t just want to send him to the floor. Slauson was prepared to send him flying off stage and end the fight even faster. Zalan’s face looked too menacing for him to want to do anything otherwise. Zalan and Slauson both breathed deeply.
“Your father is dead,” Zalan said coldly, relishing in being able to share the news. He was loud. He wanted everyone to hear him.
Slauson went tense, freezing up at Zalan’s words.
“What did you say?” Slauson asked. His mouth twitched. His stoicism faltered.
Zalan was incensed with mirth. His mind went feral as he saw Slauson’s exterior crack. The first sign of a real emotion. He wanted to drive the feeling even farther into Slauson. Destroy him.
“I saw your father’s body in the Castle of Docrun. Nothing but a shriveled corpse in a Chaos Chamber,” Zalan sneered. He savored the look in Slauson’s face as he continued to twist his message deep into Slauson’s heart. “He left a note for you. It said he would be ashamed of who you are, Slauson. His only wish was for you not to end up a sad, broken cheater like him. And look at you. Pathetic! You couldn’t even abide by his last words!”
Slauson’s arm dropped, the intended strike forgotten after having been gut-punched by Zalan’s words. Zalan’s sinister smile grew wider. This fight wasn’t over. Even frozen, he could ruin Slauson. He was no longer the arrogant fighter taking people down in a single hit. Zalan could destroy him.
Up in the stands, Nold smiled in approval at his student.