Tuponili headed for the Grand Arena box. He glimpsed the place with unbridled pleasure. The stadium was built in the shape of a crescent, like the ancient Greek amphitheaters. At the back, a huge screen was used to show reports and holoprojections. The ring was an extensive square, one meter above ground level.
When the two combatants climbed into the ring, a transparent cover descended over the ring. The square became a cube. From inside, one could only emerge victorious or defeated. The past and future of the fighters didn't matter in there. Everyone was there for the spectacle of watching a fight with no rules.
The criminal leader passed through the search and accessed the agents' box. It was on the left side of the amphitheater, in the last rows, in a separate area. Inside, there were other agents, a bar and prostitutes. A holoprojection showed how the betting rate was and in which group. Metrics were produced to facilitate the gambling, which on several occasions were exceeded by the underdog fighters.
The man looked for a comfortable seat, accompanied only by a bodyguard. Not that he needed to defend himself against anyone. General Luena had forbidden any kind of violence between the agents in the Grand Arena. Their differences had to be resolved outside. That didn't stop him from being approached by his greatest rival.
"What do you know, Tuponili, you're still alive! Hahahahaha."
A man with a turban and dry, yellowish skin appeared alongside two beautiful women. It was Thabit, the leader of an Islamic fundamentalist terrorist organization that operated throughout the Sahel. The terrorist leader carried out a bomb attack on Tuponili, but the latter survived unharmed.
"Your men have lost their timing, they no longer know how to provoke terror."
"You're an infidel. Don't worry, there will be others. Come on, let's sit down."
"Who did you manage?"
"I've decided to make a different bet this time, I'm managing the members of Neo Axis. What about you, Tuponili? I hear your team is very professional."
"Yeah, that's them over there. Fenyang, Mr. Trent and Fadala."
"Fadala is it? I'm not unfamiliar with that name."
The trio of fighters climbed into the ring. There were eight teams. Some fighters were frightened by all the media hype. Others seemed to enjoy it, posing for the camera-drones that were filming them. Their faces appeared on the big screen in the background. Each group was announced, along with the names of their managers.
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Akachi observed his surroundings. As described by Tuponili, he immediately recognized the foreigners. They were the most disparate people in the scene. But another group caught his eye, a group of cloaks with earthy-colored hoods. They wore terracotta masks, with props made of conches, bones, horns and straw. Similar to those used in ancient rites. As he looked at them, what seemed to be the leader stared back at him. Akachi shuddered.
"Nyatui, Fadala, those guys are high-level mediums. They're suppressing your Axé, but I can still feel it."
Nyatui turned his wide neck back. He had also noticed that trio.
"The only enemies that give me any chills are the mediums, Akachi."
"Don't be so reckless, Nyatui. We'd better not underestimate these fighters."
After the presentations, the draw for the group brackets took place. The arrangement was as follows:
Left Wing
1st match ►Akachi, Nyatui and Fadala vs. Shomari, Waitimu and Hawa
2nd Match ► Bloody Mary, Eniac II and Arcenoux LeBlanc vs. Njora, Mwita and Tan
Right wing
3rd Match ► Okan, Eji and Meta vs. Nyota, Olabunmi and Shakarri
4th Match ► César VXII, Tora-Tora and Pestzart vs. Wanda, Tsehai and Ali Omar Khalid
The draw only determined which groups would fight. The decision as to which fighters would step into the ring was up to the agents, out of the spotlight. This added to the unpredictability.
For the first fight, Tuponili chose Mr. Trent, an alias used by Nyatui. He considered him the most experienced of the team. The other agent selected Waitimu, also a spear user. The odds were in Waitimu's favor, he was a famous warrior of the Kikuyu people. He had a trump card, an ancient treasure that would cause his opponent great difficulties.
On orders from the organizers, the others withdrew and took seats at the edge of the ring. Nyatui and Waitimu stood facing each other. The kikuyu wore traditional clothes, a tunic tied with belts and bundles to the body. His earlobes were shaped like huge craters. Ritualistic war paintings filled his face and bust.
In one hand, he carried a spear and a wooden shield reinforced with cowhide and feathers. He slammed the pewter spear into the ground and let out a war cry. The ceiling and walls of the ring came down and closed. The signal to start the fight was given. Nyatui materialized his spear. The kikuyu was impressed.
"The rumors were true, Ilu Nla mediums are like sorcerers."
"Axé modeling is one of the most basic skills of our mediumistic arts."
"Basic or not, it's still impressive."
Waitimu waved the spear above his head several times. Nyatui felt the air around him heat up. The tip of the spear began to flame. Not just any flame, but a flame that burned supernaturally, as if it were alive. The lancer swung the weapon and slammed it into the shield, causing the embers to fall on Nyatui.
He rolled off the ground. The flames kept burning, consuming everything like some kind of acid. The ex-sage sensed a huge danger coming from his opponent.
"I see I'm not the only mage in the Grand Arena."
"Hohoho, this is Jomo, the 'Spear of Fire', in your language. In my village, it is a treasure guarded for ages. Only the strongest warrior can wield it. It was given to us by Mwene Nyaga."
"Isn't it too risky to carry a treasure as big as that around?"
"Unfortunately, I have no choice. My people need me. If I don't get a lot of money, my people will lose their land in Kenya. A mining company wants to dispossess our land to mine rubies, without any compensation. With the money, I can buy state land. My country needs this wealth, but my people need the land even more. Kikuyu don't eat rubies!"
Waitimu lunged at Nyatui with a stocky blow. He aimed for his solar plexus. The last words had motivated him to attack his opponent even harder.
m to attack his opponent even harder.