Tori's face matched the colour of his uniform. 'The sword is gone, don't you understand?'

'Captain, why are you coming to me with this? I have done my part, I put the sword in your hands. After that I have no part.'

'I know.' Tori became deflated. 'I'm just so very p-'

'Angry, yes.' Cadaoir leant back against the wooden walls of the corridor, echoed shouts bouncing past him from a sunlit opening down the end of the passage to his right. 'You can either stew in your anger, or you can channel it into something constructive. Use it to fuel a search for whoever took it from you. Either way, neither option involves me.'

'You're right, Cadaoir.' Tori said as the Monk left his side and walked towards the light.

'I have a tournament to win.' Cadaoir said in dull tones. 'I will see you after, when we leave for Hothaven.' Tori was left to do whatever, Cadaoir did not care.

He walked into bright light, exiting the passage into the arena, blending into the stadium crowds. In the ring was the famous female Wrestler, Wolf. Her hair was cropped short, her body was average in height, but as muscular and hard as Cadaoir had ever seen. She wore a simple stitched white tunic and blue trousers, nothing more. From what he had learnt from the other spectators, she was as formidable as an unarmed combatant could be. To Cadaoir, it looked as if her reputation was sorely lived up to. Her opponent, an old man in ragged brown clothes and a wide brimmed hat that went to a floppy point, had the Wrestler cornered. His sword, as unspectacular looking as the man himself, was pointed at Wolf who tried her hardest to find a way around it and back into the centre of the ring.

When Wolf moved left, the blade followed. When she feinted left and tried to head right, the Swordsman saw through her tactics and was blocking her. Wolf had no winning options, Cadaoir could see it in her, defeat was on her face. The Wrestler's eyes darted back and forth from the ring to the crowd. Cadaoir saw that she was glancing at a large group of men and women in red, people from Amaratsu. She would yield if it weren't for the eyes of her enemy. She will show no weakness. Cadaoir knew what would come next.

Wolf flung herself at the old Swordsman, her hand grabbing for the blade. Jerry was surprised, but not without impressive reactions. The blade of his short sword was impossible to remove from Wolf's grip. When her huge fist came from above to smash his head, Jerry released his sword and rolled away backwards. When he came to his feet, his hand was extended out towards his opponent. The crowd did not see it, but the Monk did.

A dagger took Wolf in the belly. She dropped the sword and gripped her stomach, but it was all she could do before she fell prone and slowly died. The Swordsman approached her and retrieved his weapon, but he knelt with her until death came fully.

It was an impressive end to the match, the crowd let it be known with their cheers. The announcer entered the ring and Jerry the Old took a bow when his win was announced. The old man gave a nod and a smile to the Monk as he left the ring and walked on past. Cadaoir nodded in return, but gave no smile.

The announcer shouted to the audience. 'What a fantastic start to this second day of battle!' He paused for the claps and shouts and whistles. 'Jerry has beaten the Wolf! A famous face falls to an unknown...' The Westerners were quiet while those from the East cheered. 'But now we place an Amaratsu hero against another unknown fighter... Will the same thing occur?' The announcer raised his hands. 'From Amaratsu's north, hailing from the famed spear specialist school, a man known for his feats against invaders from the seas, Captain Deluge!'

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The Hurdland spectators booed while the Amaratese stood from their seats and roared with cheers. From the opposite side of the ring leapt a black haired youth in red armour and a broad bladed spear over his shoulder. He bowed and waved to the crowd.

'His opponent, he who defeated the man known as The Lightning... Cadaoir!' The announcer smiled and gestured to Cadaoir who stepped onto the floating ring. The crowd clapped and cheered more readily for him this time around.

Cadaoir walked to the centre and met his opponent. They listened to the rules and sized each other up. This Deluge has a sharp grin and savage eyes. Cadaoir had seen the look a thousand times. This man was likely a brutal fighter.

Keeping himself still, unmoving, Cadaoir focused intensely on the Spear-man before him. When the announcer departed and called for the match to begin, Cadaoir stepped backward to his starting space. Yet the Spear-man stood in place, still grinning.

'I looked for you in the streets when I heard you'd signed up for the tournament. Have you been hiding?' Deluge bared white teeth. 'I never thought that I'd get this chance. After I heard you beat Kainda, I knew that one day I must face you again, and win. But not this soon.'

Cadaoir patiently impatient. Stop talking, fight.

'I've been training harder than ever, I came here to test myself. In at the deep end now, I suppose, but to hell with it!' The man brought his weapon down and pointed it at Cadaoir. 'Our second duel will end with your death!'

Second duel? Cadaoir was slow to recall those he deemed unworthy. 'We have never duelled.'

Deluge was incredulous. 'Are you for real?' His grip relaxed and the spear dropped. 'We fought in-'

Cadaoir saw his advantage and darted at Deluge, stepping on the spear and pinning it to the ground. A combination of kicks to the wrists and the hips broke his opponents grip, and a flurry of palm heel strikes to the shoulders and chest ensured Cadaoir bowled Deluge over. The Monk wasted no time and moved on his enemy to secure the win, but the black haired man drew a knife from his hip and slashed furiously as he staggered to his feet.

Dashing away from the blade, Cadaoir gave himself space to stay safe. Deluge lunged forward, but his attacks appeared lazy. He's dazed. The knife was dangerous, but the man behind it not so much. The Monk moved forward and baited an attack from Deluge, who slashed weakly. Cadaoir stepped inside Deluge's swinging arm and wrapped his own around the limb, locking it tightly and restricting all movement. With his free hand, the Monk struck Deluge in the face, the neck, the throat and the chest multiple times. His speed and power were as much as he could muster, and as affective as could be desired.

Captain Deluge crumpled to the floor with red glowing welts all over him. Cadaoir took the knife and tossed it into the water. 'If I had duelled you before, I would remember. All of my opponents are of considerable skill. You? You fail in that regard. Not worth duelling, and not worth remembering.'

The Captain looked up at Cadaoir, anger in his expression. His eyes flickered with intent, but when Cadaoir's leg swung up into the air and dropped like an axe onto the Spear-man's crown, whatever the intent was – was quashed.

The match was over. Cadaoir left the ring, deaf to the cheers and the claps. Deaf to the announcer. His only thought was on his next match.

As he entered the gap between stands, he caught Jerry the Old watching him with dark eyes. From his seat Their glances locked and for a moment there was a battle raging between them. Jerry smiled, then was lost from sight as Cadaoir exited into the tunnel he entered from.

The breeze blew, the temperature grew, and the crowd swelled and pulsed with a chaotic rhythm, fists pumping, legs jumping. Their cries grew stronger when the body of Captain Deluge was carried off the stage, then he evaporated to white in the hands of those who transported him.