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Vast: The Crusaders
Chapter 21 - The Martial Artist

Chapter 21 - The Martial Artist

Owen was trading fists with a gorilla. The beast essence user he was fighting was hulking and muscle-bound. Its massive hands were large enough to swallow Owen's head.

Owen clenched his teeth together as his entire body shook from the impact. Grunting, he struck with his own fist. A sharp howl rang out as the impact landed on the beast's torso.

With one blow landing after another, both sides were unleashing all their power. With every attack thrown, Owen's exhaustion pushed him closer and closer to his breaking point, and yet, he pressed on.

After a brutal minute of non-stop pummelling, Owen's fist slammed up into the jaw of the gorilla, shattering the chin of the beast. The beast's eyes went white, and it wobbled on the spot. Owen quickly jumped into the air, pushed his legs out, and planted a double kick straight to the snout of the gorilla, knocking the beast out.

Slamming the floor in an exhausted heap, the fight was over. Owen huffed and puffed as his strained arms moved to clench his side. Each breath he let out was heavy and thick. He looked towards the entrance to the arena. Seventy-two more left.

Shoving the tiredness away, he took another deep breath and waited. At the sound of the buzzer, the next challenger emerged.

The fights began to whittle down one after another. His sixty-sixth opponent was a space essence user who could manipulate the space between two points. The man was difficult to get a hold of as he created space between them that prevented any type of physical contact.

And yet, after several attempts, the space user eventually ran low on essence which allowed Owen to close in and easily dispose of him.

His forty-eighth fight had him squaring off against a woman with the speed insignia. She was running circles around him, managing to land several swift blows. Her superior agility and speed kept her safe, and for a while, things looked sour. That was until she got overconfident and tried to pull off a finishing blow.

Owen stopped one of her feet from moving using his kinetic energy and then quickly swept the leg out from under her, letting gravity take hold. Following up, a hand went for her neck and with a tight grasp, he choked her out until she passed out.

The thirty-fourth fight proved to be the longest fight so far. Lasting for nearly two hours long, Owen faced a man who possessed the durable insignia. Owen could hardly hurt him in the first hour of the fight, only managing to inflict some minor bruises. What made things worse was the man transformed into his beast form, an ironclad beetle.

The shell of the humanoid insect, was decorated in black and white blotchy spots. And with his short curved horns and sharp scythe-like mandibles, his appearance was daunting.

For the latter half of the two-hour period, Owen tried and tried with everything he could to make the bulky bug kneel, all to no avail. Every swing, every hit, it was meaningless.

So he decided to conserve his essence, using it sparingly wherever he could. His saving grace came when the man eventually ran low on essence and reverted into his normal form. Immediately upon transformation, Owen struck out with a series of powerful blows, with every single one making the man stagger and sway until eventually, he could not stay up any more and fell face flat on the ground, his conscious slipping away.

The inmates watched from the viewing areas in silent awe. Those from floor one to floor four were allowed to go back to their cells and rest, but no one dared to leave. For all of them watched on as one monster of a man was dismantling the fearsome floor five inmates. Mixed emotions were in the air, and though most were hoping Owen would lose, some wanted to see if he could accomplish what he set out to do.

Number twenty-two, number seventeen, number thirteen. The numbers kept ticking down. Soon, the number dwindled down to the last ten. At this point, the entire arena sat dead silent. From the viewing box, not even the slightest murmur could be heard. Mayer's solemn expression was beginning to twist, his fingers moving restlessly at his side.

Owen was crouched down on the ground, his body racked with exhaustion. He tried to breathe deep and even breaths, and his heart was thumping loudly in his ears. The long hours of fighting were taking their toll on him. His mind was swimming with fog, and sleep wanted him bad. The cold floor of the arena beckoned him. If only it could tell him it was okay to rest.

He clenched his bloodied fist. Ten more. Only ten more and you're done.

He rose to his feet and stood there. Static. Waiting. His knees then shook violently, and the sudden moment of weakness came before he could correct it. In front of the whole audience, his posture weakened, and his knees buckled forward, causing him to lurch over.

The crowd made a hum of surprise, as they were sure Owen had finally reached his limit. To Mayers, he saw a chance. He flipped a few switches and spoke into the microphone, his voice silencing the area, and the arena.

"Looks like you've finally reached your limits. A true and valiant effort, and quite a surprising performance. I never expected you to beat that many individuals." Mayers paused. "Well, I'm impressed. However, your streak ends—"

Owen's head shot up. His teeth gritted together, and his eyes were wild and unrelenting. He slammed his fist down into the floor, and let out a furious shout. It cut Mayers' words in half. Rage and essence exploded from his body. Using his essence ability, he slowly lifted himself off the ground and got himself standing back up.

He wobbled, but stayed up. Then, with a heavy yell, he raised his finger up and pointed straight at the viewing box.

"I still have ten more to go through! Tell the next inmate to come out and fight!"

***

Kenneth sat in a white hallway outside the arena. Chairs were lined along the right and left walls. At the other end of the hallway, a steel door was centered. Behind the steel door, was a path that led to the arena.

His companions, Jason and Hannah sat by his side, their eyes fixated on a monitor that was placed high on the wall in front of them. They watched as Owen Walters fought the number four inmate.

Kenneth's foot shook uncontrollably. His fingers were busy pinching and scratching at the skin on his neck. He chewed on the bottom corner of his lip and whispered a brief word.

"How…"

A voice of reason from his mind chided him. Patience, a voice said. Have some patience. He turned to look at Hannah. She was next in line to fight Owen. Surely she could stop him, right?

"Hannah," Kenneth's words caught her attention. "Make sure you don’t go easy on him. Put down that shithead hard. You got that?"

Hannah scowled. "I don’t need you to tell me what to do Kenneth. I’ll do whatever I want once I'm out there."

"The hell? Why are you giving me attitude? Don’t you know how important it is for you to stop that psycho? If we lose this damn thing we'll become floor one inmates."

Hannah's forehead creased, her frown growing. "I’m a martial artist, not a bully. I won't use my full strength against someone who's been punished enough. I’ll forfeit the moment I can."

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Kenneth almost lunged out of his seat in anger, but a firm hand prevented him from leaping at Hannah. It was Jason, who shook his head at Kenneth.

He hissed his dissatisfaction but leaned back down into his chair. "I didn’t give you those aether pills just so you could fucking waste them. You haven’t managed to become an intermediate essence user, but you are far stronger than you were before."

The sound of a buzzer rang out, and the three of them turned their attention back towards the screen. The match was over, and Owen stood over his broken down foe, victorious once more.

Hannah sighed and got up from her seat. She eyed the entrance and made her way down the hall.

Kenneth growled and called after her. "Don't let him win, you fucking hear me?"

A middle finger greeted Kenneth as she disappeared behind the door at the end of the hallway.

***

A dark figure emerged from the tunnel. Owen took a brief glance at it. A teenage girl was walking slowly into the light. Her light brown hair was tied into a ponytail, cascading down her back, and her calm and stoic face cast a lazy gaze towards him.

Owen noted her athletic build and lean yet muscular frame. Clearly a practised fighter, the distance between them slowly shrank as she carefully approached.

After reaching close enough, she stopped and put her fist against her palm. She gave a respectful bow.

"My name is Hannah Yarrow. I'll be your next opponent."

She took a stance, her legs bent and spread apart. Extending her dominant arm in front of her, her body began to flow with essence and a bronze coloured aura rippled around her, indicating that she is a body essence user.

Owen used his essence ability to move his exhausted body into his stance. Hannah's eyebrows twitched, and her brow wrinkled. She drew in a short, sharp breath before moving her hand.

After-images began to trail behind her movement. It happened within the blink of an eye. She was gone, and a moment later, an open palm slammed up into his chest.

The strike hit like a truck and knocked the air out of him. Instinctively, he threw out a straight as a counter, but it met nothing but air. Hannah had already back-pedalled.

Suddenly, a kick swerved up into the side of his head. It came in fast, and Owen responded with a high guard. The kick knocked him slightly off balance, and his arms quivered from the impact.

Hannah pulled back her outstretched leg, before hopping and switching with her other leg and smashing it straight into his ribs. This one made Owen grunt out loud.

And that was the beginning of Hannah's assault. Jumping in from any direction, her moves kept Owen on the defensive. He was struggling to react, and his inability to keep up, started costing him. His guard was being blown wide open, and his counters were either a step too slow or a swing behind.

A mean hook found its way around his guard and clocked him on the temple. His vision wavered, and he stumbled a step. Then a vicious uppercut rammed under his chin and rattled his skull.

A moment of darkness blanketed his sight, and when it returned, he realized he was falling forwards. He stamped a foot down, planting himself into the ground. His muscles worked overtime to keep him standing.

In front of him, Hannah backed away and observed him. Staring intently, her body relaxed. "I’ve exchanged enough blows with you. I guess I’ll quit here."

Eyes that were barely open, glared at Hannah with fury and indignation. She could make out a muttering under his huffing. "Finish the fight."

The statement brought forth confusion. Her head cocked in curiosity, and she strained to make out the continuous chants from him.

"Don’t you dare underestimate me." With strength in his exhausted voice, he took a step forward. His leg buckled from the shift of weight, but he ignored it, forcing himself to press on. Hannah frowned, taking a step back as he neared her. "What I hate the most are people who look down on me, who mock me, who scoff and spit at me, thinking they are better than me. I’m done being treated this way. Stand your ground and finish this. Fight me!"

His rage filled yell thundered the arena, his face now alight with flames of passion, and veins popped at his exertion. All throughout, Hannah had stood there watching him with a blank expression. Then a sigh escaped her lips. What was she doing? Her grandfather had taught her better than that. That's right, you show respect to a fellow martial artist, and this man was clearly a peer in her eyes.

Her own head drew downwards. "I apologize. I shouldn’t have taken you lightly, and I shouldn’t have insulted you with my actions." Raising her head, her eyes changed, a fierce stare directed right at Owen. Her arms rose, her fists closed, and she sunk lower. Exhaling, the bronze aura expanded.

As a body essence user, her ability allowed her to control the muscles in bodies. With this, her muscles expanded and hardened. Her already pronounced muscles became more prominent through her jumpsuit.

"I'll stop holding back." She bent forward, and exploded straight into him. Her footwork blurred, creating four, seven, ten, seventeen, twenty, after-images all passing Owen as he stood there stunned.

An attack came at him and snapped him from his shock. A fist had struck him straight in the chest launching him across the arena. He smashed into the wall, a huge dent forming at the point of impact.

She dashed forward and came at him again. Using a jump and turn in mid-air, she twisted her body, her leg coming straight down onto him like a dagger. It connected with his head, crunching the back of his skull, and burying it into the wall, sending out cracks all around him.

She bounced off him, and backflipped before landing a fair distance from him. Owen's mouth hung open as he slumped forward and slipped from the wall and face planted on the floor. A small cloud of dust rose upon impact.

Hannah went back in. Without a shred of mercy, she dragged Owen all the way to the centre of the arena. She went to the floor and moved one of her arms below his neck and the other behind his head.

With her hands interlocked, she squeezed as tight as she could. An exasperated choke emitted from Owen. He grabbed weakly at her wrists and tried to claw her off. He struggled and squirmed, but he was barely hanging on. He felt his body grow numb. His consciousness slowly slipped, as darkness crept in.

Then, images flashed in his mind. He remembered the videos of his father, Olivia, Jack, being tortured. They played as clear as day, and he gritted his teeth and scratched harder at the firm hands of the woman crushing him.

He wasn’t planning on using this since it drained him of too much of his essence, but his dwindling mental state did not care. He lifted one hand up into the air and flared his essence. The air in the arena condensed and gathered above them.

Hannah wondered what he was attempting to do, but her question was quickly answered. Owen made the air molecules vibrate rapidly, causing the temperature to rise exponentially. Then, he lowered his hand, and the air bubble descended and coated them.

It was the epitome of a sauna. Heat was pouring in from all directions. Hannah held on firmly, despite the stifling conditions. But the temperature kept on rising higher and higher, and sweat poured from her body.

Soon, the air grew so hot that it caught fire. Flames filled the bubble and consumed both Owen and Hannah. Hannah hissed as the heat burned her skin, and she released her vice grip. At the same time, Owen lowered his body temperature as low as he could in order to withstand the fires.

Hannah writhed on the ground in pain. Not only was she being baked alive by the flames, her lungs were becoming dry from the lack of oxygen. Trying to suck in fresh air only invited the heated fire down into her mouth. She felt her vision swimming, her conscious starting to slip, and she clawed her way forward as far as she could to escape the bubble.

Owen slowly stood up while putting out the flames licking up against his body with kinetic energy. With his hair charred, and his skin burnt, he used his kinetic vision to find Hannah. She was inches away from him, collapsed on the ground, and unconscious.

He let out a deep breath and extinguished the rest of the flames. He dropped and sat, his head hanging low as he breathed heavily. That was, perhaps, the hardest fight yet. It had drained him of everything, and yet he was still somehow conscious.

Guards soon ran in and retrieved the unconscious body of Hannah. Once again, Owen stayed sitting in place. Most of his skin was either bruised or burned and all the pain was excruciating. His exhaustion was immense, and he wondered if he could manage to get up without passing out. His essence reserves were nearly depleted as well, and he doubted if he could even swing his arm.

The buzzer sounded. Owen strained his head back towards the entrance. It opened once more, and his second to last opponent walked out.

Owen recognized him. It was the cat eyed man. Was his name again? Kenneth?

Slowly, the lean man sauntered towards Owen. Serious eyes focused on him. Once close enough, Kenneth folded his arms and glared.

"Get up."

Silence fell between them. Owen stared at the man wearily. Kenneth repeated himself, a demand etched into his words.

"I said get up. Your fight isn't over yet. If you don’t stand, I'll attack you here and now."

Owen mustered his last drops of resolve, and his shaky arms laboured their way to his knees, forcing him to stand on unsteady legs. He teetered and wavered, his breathing shallow and swift. His eyes narrowed as he regarded Kenneth.

There were hints of green peeking through his hazel eyes. If they weren’t natural, then that would mean that Kenneth was an intermediate essence user. One could tell by observing if someone's eyes were mixed with the colour of their essence type and their natural eye colour.

Kenneth unfolded his arms, and raised an open palm towards Owen. A green aura flowed throughout his entire body.

"You've put on quite a show," Kenneth said, a half smile on his face. "I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t impressed. I was hoping that Hannah would take you out quickly. But she let her guard down. But, I won’t be as foolish."

He gestured with his fingers and spoke with his next words. "I hope what I do next doesn’t kill you."

Owen clenched his fists. He was running low on essence, his body was exhausted and damaged, and he wasn’t sure if he could take down an intermediate essence user as he was now. But still, he pressed on, and positioned his feet.

"Come."