To most people, Cirayus looked as though he hadn’t a care in the world. He was full of openings, and it seemed like he wasn’t even paying attention to the fight.
Vir knew that simply wasn’t true. No matter how much his godfather showboated, he always took fights seriously.
Which was why it came as no surprise to Vir when Cirayus calmly reached behind his back and leisurely grabbed hold of the Ghael’s spear.
Aalok desperately tried to wrench his weapon back, but to no avail.
“That… looked incredibly easy,” Tara said. “Wonder why more people don’t do that.”
Vir shook his head. “Cirayus made it look easy. Even without Balancer of Scales, he has monstrous power, and knows exactly how to use it. It’s not so easy to catch a spear mid-strike. As I’m sure you know.”
“That I do…” Tara admitted, eyes glued on the battle, the same as Vir.
He genuinely didn’t know what Cirayus planned to do. While he had a significant advantage holding his enemy’s weapon captive, that wasn’t enough to win.
It happened faster than anyone could see. Aalok surged out of the shadow, going from pulling his spear one moment to driving it forth with the full weight of his body.
Against most demons, that would’ve resulted in the spear penetrating straight through—especially with the movement art Aalok used.
Against Cirayus and his Giant’s Hide, it simply glanced off. It hadn’t helped that Cirayus moved slightly, redirecting the force of the blade just as it struck him.
In the next instant, he’d grabbed hold of Aalok’s arm.
The Iksana’s legs were still in the shadow, and he seemed unwilling to give it up. So instead, Cirayus simply lowered himself to the ground. Slowly.
His shadow constricted, becoming smaller and smaller around Aalok’Yar’s exposed torso.
“You sure you want to play this game?” Cirayus asked gently, his voice amplified so it could be heard by the audience. “I know what happens if you lose a limb in that Shadow Realm of yours. There’s no getting it back.”
Cirayus was almost on his knees now. His shadow continued to tighten.
Vir could see the conflict in the Iksana’s eyes. He was caught in an impossible situation. Remain in the shadow and lose a limb? Or exit and risk losing the duel?
With the shadow now dangerously close to shearing his torso, the Iksana finally made his decision.
He leapt out of his shadow… Only for Cirayus to grab him with all four hands. Lifting him high into the sky, Cirayus launched the demon.
Aalok sailed through the air helplessly… and landed on his bum.
Outside the ring.
“W-Winnnerrrrr!” the referee shouted.
Cirayus raised all of his arms to the crowd, and the arena that had fallen utterly silent broke out in uproarious adulation.
“Well,” Vir muttered, knowing Tara couldn’t hear him over the din, “looks like we were both wrong. He was not only efficient, he also gave everyone a show.”
And soon, it would be Vir’s turn. Could he match his godfather’s performance? Or would he be taking a loss in the very first round?
Vir steeled his face and rose. He had to succeed. He had to.
95VAAK VS NOR
Vir paced around the waiting area, feeling like an eternity had passed. He wore his newly polished armor, and his katar and chakram both glistened in his hands, ready for the fight.
If only he felt ready. Left alone along with Shan in a large room at the edge of the arena and a single Bairan guard, dark thoughts filled his mind. Until now, he’d been fixated on Cirayus, thinking him the only real threat. But the results of the qualification challenge humbled him. He’d barely eked by, and though it wasn’t an outright test of combat, to have come in last…
Zarak’Nor would not be an easy opponent. With all of his handicaps, Vir would have to bring his very best. Even then, Vir had a bad feeling. Never had the stakes been higher. If he lost here—if he failed to obtain Balancer of Scales…
Vir took several deep breaths to center himself, resisting the urge to tap into the Foundation Chakra as he’d be using it extensively in the upcoming fight.
He glanced out the window. The Tournament was scheduled such that the main fights were hours apart—both to increase the feeling of suspense, and to get people to stay through the challenge fights that went on continuously. If the main duels finished early, most spectators would leave. And that meant less money flowing into Thaman’s coffers.
When the commentator finally announced Vir’s name, he was both horrified that the moment had arrived, and relieved that the endless wait was over.
“And now, my dear demons and demonesses, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! The second and final bout of the day! Our first competitor is a young demon, claiming affiliation to no clan.”
“That’s right, Samik,” the other commentator replied. “He bears no official Guardian Rank. Yet he claims to be of the Ash, and from what we saw in the qualifiers, I have to say, he certainly lives up to the title!”
“Indeed. Vaak didn’t break a sweat in there. To say nothing of that Artifact Chakram he wields.”
“That is one nasty weapon, I must admit, and let’s not forget his companion, the prana wolf! Even our reigning champion will have to play it safe with this one.”
The commentators’ words were followed by a round of booing.
“Well, now,” Samik laughed. “This will no doubt be quite an opening battle, folks! Without further ado, let’s bring out our Vaaaak—of Ash!”
Vir made sure he waved enthusiastically to the crowd, ignoring the extremely lackluster response—most of which came from Baira and Panav. He was at least glad there was no booing. If he won this bout in the manner he intended, he suspected there would be far more of that next time.
Doing his best to ignore the enormous floating projections that were currently showing Vir, he shifted his gaze to the very tops of the grandstands. To the small rooms that ringed the arena—one per Clan section. The seats of highest honor, reserved for the Rajas and their retinue. Except for the Aindri, every Raja in the realm was in attendance.
Which meant Chitran Raja Matiman was gazing down at him even now… Vir wondered how the Raja would react if he had even an inkling of who he was looking down at. Vir wondered how any of the Rajas would react.
Only Thaman and Kira knew of his identity and existence. The others were still in the dark. To them, the Akh Nara was dead.
It would be pandemonium, Vir concluded. It might even be the spark that triggered the next inter-clan war.
And all that protected him—protected the realm—from that fate was the tattoo Cirayus’ granddaughter had inscribed upon his chest. A tattoo that required a constant flow of prana, and that—against an Iksana bearing Sight like Zarak’Nor—would be instantly discovered if Vir let up for even the briefest of moments.
More than losing, it was this possibility that scared Vir more.
“And now, introducing one who needs no introduction. Our Reigning Champion. The Gold-Ranked. The One. The Onlyyyy. Zarak’Noooooooooor!”
Vir was surprised to learn Nor was only ranked at Gold, though he supposed his scale was broken with Cirayus as his point of comparison. The Ravager was one of the few Seric-Rank demons in the entire realm, after all. And while Vir had been classified as Steel by the Overseer, he had to wonder where he’d rank unfettered, with full access to his abilities. Given the beasts he’d slain in the Ash, he doubted very much he’d rank anything other than Seric.
While that was a minor consolation, it wasn’t one that would be immediately helpful in this match.
The Iksana appeared from the opposite side of the arena, taking his time as he stomped to the stage, utterly ignoring the crowd that exploded in cheers, hoots, and stomps for him. Not just the Iksana, either. Every section of the stadium lit up with roars. Still, despite the energy, Vir couldn’t help but feel a little smug that Nor’s reception wasn’t even in the same realm as Cirayus’.