***host commentary***
[Phenomenal!! Simply phenomenal!! Sylvia FullCastle, by herself, has wiped team beta off of the map!! I am in absolute awe of the skill, strength, and tactical superiority she displayed in front of her opponents today! In my five years commentating on this event, I’ve only ever seen this twice before! I bet our spectators at home are as in shock as I am right now! What are your thoughts on this breathtaking performance, Professor Silverthorn?!]
The camera switches to a woman with auburn hair tied in a bun above her head.
[...What we just witnessed was quite impressive. Team beta’s battle formation was not lacking, and their coordination was nearly flawless. However, when it came to wits and sheer skill, they fell behind. Their opponent exposed cracks they didn’t even know existed - she outmaneuvered them at every turn…
Perhaps if they had been less confident, or if they had not worried so much about that youngster, Alden Thorne, who was protecting Sylvia’s teammates, the results may have been different… but as it is, they suffered a crushing defeat.]
[That’s exactly what I was thinking!! Did you see her counter-attacks?! All her responses were nearly surgical, as if they had been planned long before team beta had even moved!]
[Indeed. Lady FullCastle had a perfect understanding of the battlefield and took full control of the flow of battle, characteristic of the philosophy taught in the FullCastle house… Instead of imposing their own tempo, team beta danced to her tune, which spelled their doom.]
[The way you say things is almost poetic, Professor Silverthorn!]
[...]
***host commentary***
“D-damnit!! How could this be?! You’re a monster damnit!! A monster!!” Peregrine spits through his gritted teeth, battered and bloodied, lying helplessly on his back.
As it turns out, he was the vanguard, meaning that eliminating him once is not enough. In a minute or so, the protective barrier around him and his restraints will come undone. As it stands, he’s beaten, but not finished. As I look at him throw a tantrum and strain his vocal chords, I think about what I’ve learned from watching this fight today.
When an opponent is eliminated, they are rendered unconscious through an unknown force, surely another feature of this bodysuit of ours. It makes sense when I just think about it for a second. After all, for a lot of us [enlightened], mere restraints aren’t enough to put a stop to the usage of our [melodies]. Who knows what could have happened if members of his team were allowed to play their song even while defeated. And with the protective barrier preventing any further harm from coming onto the eliminated participant, unfair situations may have been created if they weren’t forced to lose consciousness.
This rule applies for all roles but one, the vanguard. The vanguard is left fully conscious after their first elimination, and a timer appears on their watch, indicating when they will be freed. I do not know if it is the same for everyone, but for Peregrine, the timer indicated ten minutes. Until then, all he can do is curse us.
Ignoring him, I speak to Sylvia. “You’re scary, you know that?”
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With a strange serenity, as if she had already forgotten the carnage she had just raised, she reattaches her hair into the ponytail which had come undone during the fight. “Only if you stand against me.” She says, not as a threat, but as a truth.
Glancing at the immobile team beta, I scoff. “...Right.”
Interrupting our conversation, Peregrine appears to finally be moving. Sylvia adopts her battle stance and talks to him as he sluggishly tries to sit up.
“In a few moments I’ll eliminate you for good, Peregrine Goldleaf. Before that happens, you have two choices. Transfer all your points to my team, then die, and I might consider our relationship as just neutral… or just die and know that Sylvia FullCastle dislikes you.” She says, sharpness in her voice.
Peregrin’s face twists in defiance. “D-damn you..!! What kind of offer is that..?!! Do you take me for a joke?!” With an emotion akin to regret, Peregrine closes his eyes, then opens them with determination. “I-I won’t lose here!!!” Peregrine shouts.
In an instant, his jaw begins to move, in a fashion very similar to Rowan’s during the sparring exercise on the Lauderdale peak. Immediately recognizing this motion, I summon my aegis, but I know it’s far too late, I won’t be able to strike him before he finishes.
Fortunately, Sylvia is ahead of me. In a flash, her warchord falls upon Peregrine’s neck like an unstoppable guillotine. Recognizing it as a killing blow, his protective barrier activates for the second time and he is rendered unconscious.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I release my aegis, a terrible development was just avoided. “Do you think that was…?”
Standing over Peregrine’s body, she wipes a small droplet of blood from her cheek. “Yeah… the tuning pills seem to have made it into the event… Though I wonder why he used it only now…”
“Good question… It seemed like he was hesitant about using it, but who knows why.” I let out a long sigh. “In any case… This is dangerous. We need to inform the Professors.” I say remembering just how strong they made Rowan but also to which degree they crippled him.
With a measured step, Sylvia inches closer, her voice dropping as she speaks into my ear. “... When Rowan used them, not even an announcement or acknowledgement of the situation was made despite all of us seeing the strange situation with our very eyes… Don’t you think that’s weird?”
My voice drops to match hers, and I ensure that it cannot be heard by the spectators. “Do you think we have a mole after all?”
She looks around, pretending to be casually observing her surroundings. But I know that she’s ensuring no one is near enough to hear. “I don’t know… but I do believe something bigger is at play here… “
I rub my hand over my face, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. “Something too big for us to do anything that matters… If the mole was able to hush the Rowan incident, then they must have been highly ranked, meaning anything trainees like us say will be ignored…sh*t… there's nothing we can do…”
She lets out a soft sigh and walks past me. “Not for now at least, even if we wanted to, there’s no way to directly contact the Professors during the event, so there’s no use in worrying about it…” She says, with a hint of frustration behind her calm tone.
Sylvia then steps over the bodies of her victims to go stand near her sleeping teammates. “Putting that aside… I’m grateful for the help you provided in defending my allies… but may I ask what brought you back here?”
‘Oh, right…’
I look down to her hand still clamped onto the handle of her warchord, ready to swing at a moment’s notice. “Let’s… put that down first, yeah? I’m not here to fight you.”
“Ah, apologies. It seems I was still caught up in the last fight. So? Why are you here? I’m aware of your kindness, but surely you did not return because you felt guilty about leaving right? That… would be foolish.” She says, letting go of the handle.
I take in a deep breath. I don’t know how she’ll take it when I admit what I really came back for.
“Well you see… Sophia is with your team leader and they struck a deal. He says that for every team member we bring back to him…he’ll give us 100 points.”
Sylia scoffs, something I’ve seldom seen her do before. “So he’s a hostage…and in a way, Sophia is holding him for ransom. Yeah.. that sounds just like her.”
“Yeah...”
She sighs as she considers the situation. “Do you know where they are?”
“I can lead us there if you follow me.”
She puts her warchord over her shoulder. “Let us go then, you carry Feyrin, I’ll carry Talyndra.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“They’re still asleep, and we have no vehicle. Someone must carry them, no? And I’m afraid Talyndra might just rip you apart if she were to find herself on your back when she wakes.” She says with a smile underlined with a bit of playfulness
Though it’s hard to refuse whenever she asks for something, this is difficult to accept. I look at her with a worried expression. “...What if I’m scared Feyrin might do ten times worse?”
She gets closer, and pats me on the shoulder. “...He won’t… probably.”