After Neville’s victory, the next battle was between Cray of the Spears, and Jester the Felines. The mention of ‘Jester’ immediately perked Aria up.

Sorn: “You know who he is?”

Aria: “Felines are the only consistent Anima bloodline. The eldest son always inherits the ability, and they’re always fearsome.”

Sure enough, the moment the battle started, too long sets of ice teeth emerged from Jester’s mouth. Likeways, small claws grew on his hands and toes, and a tail emerged from his rear. He charged towards the Spear on all fours, and sure enough, none of his efforts came close to posing a threat for Jester. He dodged past the Spears, using his teeth to crush one as it came at him point blank. He then grabbed his head and smashed his opponent to the ground. Varian gave a solemn look down, and as Cray was being dragged away, Aria was snickering.

Aria: “The Spears really have fallen if not a single one can make it to the last stage.”

Sorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As the fifteenth, his turn was up next. And his options of people he would fight against.

Varian: “And for the next fight, our fifteenth placer, Sorn the outsider. He is up against the man who came sixth, Toren, the heir to the Dancing Blade.”

Aria: “Oh yeah sorry buddy. You don’t stand a chance against that guy.”

Sorn felt the scar across his front throb as he nervously stood in place. Toren had already stepped off from the rim and was sliding down onto the tournament ground. Aria shoved Sorn’s back while he was lost in thought.

Aria: “Down you go then. Good luck outsider!”

There was a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice. Sorn slid down and walked to the middle of the arena, as did Toren. They stopped and faced each other. Sorn’s breaths were rugged and he couldn’t stop his hands shaking from the nervousness.

Toren: “It seems like fate is doing me justice here. I can make up for the mistake I made before.”

His needle formulated in his hand, and Sorn felt the deja vu as they stood in the same positions they did outside the Fortress. The days that happened in between felt like an eternity to Sorn.

Sorn: “You won’t get an easy fight this time.”

Toren: “Of course, don’t let me down comet boy.”

He gave Sorn a curious look.

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Toren: “What keeps you fighting here? Why did you not take the opportunity to run when you could?”

Sorn replied without hesitation.

Sorn: “I can’t let those who put their faith in me down.”

Toren looked directly into Sorn’s eyes. Sorn didn’t look away however. He would defeat him just as easily as he did Zoe. Stating his purpose, and seeing Crystal and Oden looking down at him from above, the only thing left in his body was adrenaline.

Toren seemed to catch where Sorn’s eyes were going, and the edges of his mouth went upward.

Toren: “You fancy her, don’t you?”

Sorn: “Huh?”

Toren: “How typical for a weak man. Let me let you in on a little secret, outsider. Do you recall that day we met? Do you truly believe that I was following you for only those five minutes?”

It took a moment for Sorn to realize what he was implying. But when he did figure it out, he was shocked.

Sorn: “You mean the cave?”

Toren nodded, his smug expression never leaving his face.

Toren: “I’m aware of your plan. I am not aware as to how you intend on doing it, but you intend to run away with my fiance. As the loving future husband I am, I can’t allow that, can I?”

Sorn stared blankly at Toren, his guard completely down. He was aware no one above could hear their conversation, and Toren had let loose a few stabs that Sorn easily dodged to make it appear as though they were fighting while they talked. However, Sorn could only really focus on the words he was hearing.

Sorn: “So what do you plan to do?”

Toren: “We have both grown quite a bit this week. I have for the first time in my life, not had things go my way. You were a man I wanted to see die. You were the bane of my existence. A threat to both my women and my home.”

Sorn could understand the first part of what Toren was trying to say. He was far less pompous and aggressive for some reason, and far more reasonable.

Sorn: “So what changed your mind?”

Sorn aimed a kick at Toren’s head as he said this, which Toren easily blocked with his needle.

Toren: “The comet streaks with foul intent, bequeathing dread. And from the abyss, the boy is sent to claim the crown instead. I believe you, Sorn, are the next King decided by fate. You came from the crater created by the comet. If you are truly a divine entity, I shall make certain I am on the correct side of history.”

He pointed his needle at Sorn as they now stood facing each other.

Toren: “However, Prophecies are historically tricky. Perhaps you were not chosen. I am sure Varian would not mind me killing you here either. So I shall test you. Win, and you can chase your desires without me in the way. Lose and I shall cut your throat and end my dumb fiance’s foolish plan.”

Sorn didn’t respond. From this moment on, every movement he made was vital to his victory. He had to meet the expectations placed upon him and prove himself. He needed his first true victory.

Immediately wisps appeared around his legs and he dashed at Toren, only requiring one leap to narrow the distance. He leaned backwards, propping himself up with his forearm as he kicked upwards, sliding forward as he did so.

Toren tried to stab his leg, but Sorn was anticipating this. He used wisps around his forearm to allow him to use it to push himself upwards. In the air, he caught the extending needle with his legs as he used the forward momentum to tackle Toren as he did so, knocking him down.

Pinning him down while on top of his chest, he prepared a wisp powered punch at his face, but a fist sized ice ball materialized in the middle of them and launched itself at Sorn. Sorn was forced to jump off Toren to the side to avoid his face from being bashed in. He regained his footing to face Toren, who had stood up and was now dusting himself off.

Toren: “I’ll admit, that wasn’t bad. But you won’t get another chance, outsider.”

As he said this, he slid gracefully towards Sorn. Sorn recalled what Oden had told him during their training.

Oden: “The Dancing Blade’s mobility is not pure footwork. They cover the bottom of their feet with ice. They use that in different angles to slide across the ground. It sounds simple in concept, but it’s something that takes years to even barely control. And even more years to make it even useful as a technique. Only a select few are capable of achieving true mastery, so most give up. Even those in the Dancing Blade Subclan. However, one of these masters is Toren, as his Subclan dons him with the epithet ‘genius’. I’ve never seen him fight for real, but I’d take his threat extremely seriously.”

Sorn focused on Toren’s feet. If he could see what angles he was putting them at, perhaps he could predict where Toren would move.

Toren noticed this as he slid to Sorn’s right.

Toren: “It seems you’ve noticed something. But I’m afraid that won’t help you.”

Sorn released a punch where Toren had just been standing, but Toren had moved back to his original position. He was now facing Sorn as he aimed his needle towards his heart.

Toren: “Now you die.”

End.