Back to Yonder for Publication, page 29
Though there were plenty of healers on hand, for which any referee had only to lift a red flag to summon one, accidents did happen and it was expected that there might be a few deaths before a referee could administer a healing potion, or a healer could attend to the wounded contender.
Ultimately, each ring would yield a single champion. Six fights at a time, with five fighters in each, meant that there would be ten rounds of these preliminary fights yielding sixty fighters who would advance--along with the two former champions and the two legacy fighters—to the double elimination tournament..
Once the sixty-four contenders had been determined, the tournament was a double elimination affair. Each of the sixty-four fighters had two golden arm bands. Each loss would result in one being taken. When they no longer had either armband, they were eliminated. Master Dalcon had explained it all to Josie, who had then filled me in.
They took this tournament seriously—with each of the armbands being magically secured. Only a tournament referee could remove an armband—which they did at the conclusion of each match in an effort to keep everything above-board. Any tampering could supposedly be detected, although even Master Dalcon didn’t know the entire process.
Since Josie had opted to fight as a legacy fighter, she had a bye for the preliminary round—after which, as long as she stayed in the winner’s bracket, all of her matches would be in ring two. That was convenient, because it allowed us to pick the right place to sit to be able to watch her. It cost a fortune in gold, but we were able to get seats in the fifth row in a spot not blocked by the awnings of the box seats.
Nimeera and Rava were with me as was Sema. She was simply hiding in a pouch on my waist. Rava clasped my hand. She’d been very touchy feely ever since the other night—and why not? On Earth, it would be much too soon to detect whether she was pregnant or not. But here on Olimero? I had been able to sense the soul taking shape within her—even before the flesh had formed to the point where I could understand what I was sensing.
The baby seemed incomplete at this point—it felt almost like pieces of me and Rava had simply been spliced together. But it was exciting to witness it happening, and when I shared what I sensed with her, it made her happy beyond measure.
Nimeera had started acting strangely, ever since we had revealed Rava’s pregnancy. It was like it somehow made her even more horny.—almost like she was continually in heat. I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t pressure from her dark god.
I hated that there would always be that level of suspicion surrounding every odd thing that the catgirl did. But then again, Josie was a handmaiden of Sativa and, had she not been so busy, I’m sure she would have gently been encouraging me to bend the knee to Sativa.
Rava had even revealed that she had been approached by the goddess of mana with an offer that was going to be hard to refuse. She hadn’t given the goddess an answer—yet. And she kept the details to herself. I figured she needed to process it first before she would be ready to speak to me about it. That was just the way Rava was. She had always been the most secretive of my wives. It just no longer invoked any doubt in me.
As we watched the referees and judges take up their places in each of the six rings. Someone using Sound or Air Mana started announcing. “Welcome to the 103rd annual Centrum Martial Tournament. Over the next few days, you will be treated to bouts between the best fighters from all over the continent as they vie for the honor which only one can hold—the honor of being crowned this year’s tournament champion!”
Cheering erupted throughout the arena.
I got it. Life was hard on Olimero. Any excuse to relax and cut loose was going to be appreciated. It reminded me that I still hadn’t been to any of the O-ball games which I had been instrumental in organizing as a distraction for the masses in Yonderton. Of course, the idea of me competing in it any longer would be foolish and completely unfair with my stats and cultivation advantages.
The announcer continued going over some of the aspects of the preliminaries. I expected that most of the audience knew at least the rudimentary aspects of the rules, but they still got hyped up by it all.
“As a reminder, the use of magic or special gear is prohibited in the preliminary round. This is because these are tests of raw skill. With only the best of each five fighter free-for-all advancing to the tournament itself.”
I chuckled at that part. Not really, it was also a test of stats. The people of Olimero were too used to stat caps. Josie was so going to clean up whoever made it out of the preliminaries. She was stronger than anyone in the tournament, except for maybe a few orcs or cowkin—and she was faster than anyone, even if they had reached the stat caps for their race. Best of all, she knew how to make it all work for her.
“There are 304 fighters competing this year, with a double elimination tournament for the sixty-four fighters who advance beyond the preliminary round. A bye will be given to prior tournament champions, of which we are graced with two this year.”
That generated quite a buzz in the stands.
“You all know Balru—a former champion. There hasn’t been a fiercer orc seen in the arena in many a year. It was that brazen style and his amazing strength which led him to victory in last year’s tournament.”
The announcer waited for the chants of ‘Balru! Balru! Balru!’ to fade before continuing.
“We are also fortunate to have Tensa, the champion from three years ago. He is one agile monkeykin and the exact opposite in style to Balru—which just goes to prove that there is more than one way to the top of this heap.”
I smiled as the announcer really started to hype up the crowd.
“We are also blessed to have two legacy fighters with us, who will get the third and fourth byes, automatically advancing them beyond the preliminary free-for-all fights. Josephine Case is the daughter of Bertrand Ruger, the only man ever to have won the tournament three years running. She’s been living in Yonder at the very edge of the frontier, where she probably has to fight monsters on a daily basis. We'll see if that translates into what it takes to follow in her esteemed father’s footsteps.
“And finally, Betsy Clemson, the daughter of Red Clemson—also known as the Mad Bull—is here to prove that she has the power to bring honor to the Clemson name once again.”
The longer I listened, the more I wondered if there wasn’t some type of Emotion Mana at work amongst the spectators, too. Even I was finding myself getting super excited, even for the preliminary brawls that Josie didn’t have to fight in.
I didn’t sense anything when I peered inside myself, so if there was something like that, it must be very subtle. Still, I was all revved up.
The announcer went through a few more rules, explaining that although accidents did happen, any killing blows dealt during the preliminaries would result in a disqualification of the offending fighter, because this was meant to be a show of skill.
Once the final sixty-four were determined, they would all be allowed to use any gear that they personally owned, and fight with all their abilities—including magic. At that point, though killing was still frowned upon, it did not mean a disqualification unless the judges ruled that the mortal blow had been intentional.
Otherwise, once in the tournament proper, a round could be won by knocking one’s opponent out of the ring, getting them to yield, or causing them to be unable to continue—similar to the free-for-all rules, as determined by each fight’s referee. That applied all the way until the semi-final matches.
After that, knocking an opponent out of the ring was no longer enough to win, because the entire arena became the ring for these final eight contests. Only incapacitating, causing your foe to yield, or killing them would result in advancing through the final three matches—well, more than that, if the ultimate winner of the loser’s bracket defeated the winner of the winner’s bracket—to be crowned the tournament’s champion.
I watched as the first group match filled the ring closest to us. I could see the other rings just fine, especially with my enhanced senses, but I’d decided I was going to focus on a single ring at a time—I wanted to gauge the level of competition that Josie could expect. In general, I felt extremely confident about her chances of winning the whole thing, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions.
All of the fighters who filed into ring two, the one which was the closest to us were elves. I found that interesting, because as I briefly looked around at the other rings before this match got started, I realized that they were all being grouped by races. I guess that enhanced the chances of seeing different racial styles in the tournament. Each race had their inherent strengths and weaknesses, after all, mostly based on their stat caps and general physical composition.
The elves all took up positions as far from one another as they could manage without getting too close to the edge of their ring. Thirty feet by thirty feet seemed like a good deal of space, but that was for two fighters. With five fighters, it was anything but spacious—especially when you considered that being tossed or knocked out of the ring counted as a loss. Only one fighter from each of these rings would advance to the double elimination tournament, after all.
As the referee signaled the beginning of the match it became clear that the elves were a cautious lot. Then, a shorter elf with bright red hair rushed the foe to his left. The taller elf with golden hair, which was truly gold colored and not some shade of blond, simply pivoted and performed a hip throw to toss the red-head out of the ring. With that, they were down to four.
Two of the others had locked up and were going at it with swords. It was a real surprise, interesting that three of the elves had elected to fight unarmed. That seemed to put them at a significant disadvantage, until I remembered the elf from the Porcelain Mug. He had been more adept at martial arts than anything I had seen on Earth.
Maybe this would turn out to be worth watching, after all.
The two with swords fought while the other two stood back and watched the duel, as though by silent agreement. Killing might be against the rules, but both swordsmen only wore light armor and wielded slender blades more akin to rapiers than the normal longswords or sabers I had seen most folks using on Olimero. Soon, each was bleeding from several wounds.
Their skill seemed evenly matched, and they were fairly agile—though nothing compared to Josie. It looked like this might drag on for a bit, but then one of the combatants took a strike to the face. He dropped his blade and clutched at his eye. I could completely relate. The thought of having your eye sliced open was horrifying, but if he had done so in real combat, he surely would have died.
Instead, he only took a boot to the chest and stumbled out of the ring—the entire time clutching at his eye. A referee lifted his red flag, and a trio of healers raced up to the stricken elf as soon as he landed outside the ring.
I couldn’t help myself. Under my breath, I muttered, “I guess he sees the point now.”
Beside me, Rava groaned. “You did not just say that.”
I shrugged.
Nimeera chuckled from my other side. “Gallows humor has a certain place.”
“Will they be able to save his eye?” I wondered.
Rava shook her head. “It’s unlikely. Perhaps, with some legendary healing efforts, but the best they will probably be able to do is to repair the structure without restoring his vision in that eye. Now if they had a healer with Lina’s skill or perks, or if you were down there condensing the healers’ Life Mana, it might be a different story.”
“Well, we need to be ready for Josie. She won’t have to fight in any of the free-for-alls today. In fact, I wish she could have watched today with us, but I guess it makes sense that the fighters with a bye have to sit down on the field and be seen by the crowd. Tonight, though, we need to make sure we ready any preparations needed to protect her.”
Rava smiled. “I love knowing how concerned you get for us. Josie is a grown woman, Rob, and knows the risks involved.”
She squeezed my arm and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “But if it makes you feel any better, I have already brewed two of the most powerful healing potions that I could, as well as a trio of mana regeneration potions. That used up all that was left from the troll’s body, so we will need to go troll hunting at some point and have you dispose of a few more of them, like you did that one.”
I nodded and then returned my focus back to the ring. The two unarmed fighters were double teaming the rapier-wielding elf, although neither seemed willing to commit for fear of taking an injury which would disadvantage them against their eventual final opponent. Eventually, the swordsman over extended, and his opponent on one side scored a roundhouse kick to his knee while the other elf dodged the lunge and grabbed his wrist, twisting it in a smooth motion. My enhanced hearing picked up the sound of bones snapping as the sword was forced from his hand. A second later, he was thrown from the ring.
After that, it got interesting. The two martial artists seemed evenly matched. Ring two ended up being the last of the first preliminary fights to finish, and all eyes were on them. In the end, it was a simple punch which rose a fraction too high that created an opening. The winner was able to deliver a counter which cracked his opponent’s ribs.
That blow wasn’t enough to win the fight, but it was the beginning of the end—as the unfortunate fighter struggled to breathe and moved ever slower. I had to remember that elves had a natural Durability cap of thirty. So, even if they had the stat maxed, they were only about fifty percent more durable than the average human. That wasn’t enough simply to shrug off broken ribs.
After that, we saw more of the same in the next few fights. The first few matches were mostly races fighting their own kind. Then, when it seemed there wasn’t a number of combatants sufficient to fill a ring with one race, combinations of races like orcs and cowkin in one ring—or catkin and monkeykin in another—started to appear. A few fighters stood out, but I doubted they were the true threats.
I suspected the true threats were those who were good enough to win without standing out.
The sun was close to setting by the time the final matches of the group elimination preliminaries ended. The announcer came back with the same enthusiasm he had spoken with throughout the day.
“And that concludes the preliminary elimination round! Tomorrow, we will begin the tournament matches with our roster of sixty-four fighters. I’ll remind you that moving forward, both magical gear and magical abilities are allowed in the rings at either end of the stadium, so expect tomorrow to be flashier than today.
“Don’t’ forget to pick up a dinner to take home to the wives from one of our many tournament sponsors right outside the stadium. They have delicious meals prepared and packaged for sale—and your wives will think you a champion in your own right, if you save them a hour or more in the kitchen. Who knows what deserts they may prepare for you as a reward!”
I chuckled. Apparently, even on Olimero, sex sells.
Chapter 36 - And It Begins
Josie was strangely quiet that night. We compared notes a bit, but in the end she was mostly trusting in her abilities and training. We talked about what she could do to enhance her chances, and the idea of potions came up. We decided that she wouldn’t use any for the first round, but that we would check with Master Dalcon to confirm if consumables were legal.
We meditated a bit before bed, and Josie ended up breaking through to cultivation rank E1, which gained her an extra point of Durability. I was able to give her some general tips about cultivation, but her process as a mana cultivator was very different from mine—or at least it seemed that way, whenever we talked about details.
The next day, we went as a family to the arena. I kissed Josie goodbye by the entrance for contenders and said, “Back home we have a saying when wishing luck to a friend who is about to perform. We tell them to, ‘break a leg’, as though wishing for something bad will keep it from happening. I don’t believe you need luck, though. You’re an amazing fighter and will have stats which dwarf what the others have.”
“I will make our family proud,” Josie replied.
After another kiss for me, she hugged Rava and the two held each other tight. I was surprised when, after that, she gave Nimeera a hug. It wasn’t as tight or as emotional as what she’d just shared with Rava, but it was still a big step considering how far apart they had been.
Sema chuckled from inside the pouch on my hip.
I asked her what was so funny.
She looked up at me with a shadowed look in her eyes. “These games just seem so silly to me. You have such power that you could wipe out most of the fighters here all at the same time without breaking a sweat, yet here you sit watching your wife fight. Why didn’t you enter this tournament yourself?”
