Annas frowned in confusion. “Tomorrow’s matches… Ah.” Understanding dawned upon the Kothi, and his eyes widened.
His grip firmed around the vial, and he slipped it into a pocket. “It was good meeting you today, Nor. Too bad about your loss. Allow me to avenge your honor.”
Zarak’Nor grunted. “I look forward to the results.”
And then he disappeared into a shadow, leaving Annas alone. Alone, and grinning.
97THE SPECTATOR’S EXPERIENCE
For Vir, the second day of the tournament promised quite the spectacle. Yesterday, he was a fighter, but today, he enjoyed the show like any other fan. Cheering his favorite fighters and munching on delicious sugary pastries and savory snacks from his seat beside Cirayus and Aida.
Shan, unfortunately, had bailed on them the moment they headed for the stadium, so it was just Vir and the two giants. Sandwiched in between them, he felt like a child between overbearing parents.
Or perhaps more like siblings—Cirayus and Aida’s raucous cheers and boos made for excellent company.
As usual, the day started with an announcement from Thaman, followed by challenge matches for a few hours. Cirayus asked if Vir was interested, but he declined, so both the Ravager and Aida entered. Despite fighting with three hands behind his back and not using any magic, the results of Cirayus’ matches didn’t need to be mentioned; these were second and third tier fighters, after all.
Aida’s matches were more interesting. Vir had wondered where her weapons were as she walked up to the stage, but it turned out she was a pugilist, and fought with her hands and feet. Her style was exceedingly effective, too—not that Vir expected anything less. She was the Ravager’s granddaughter.
Vir even placed a few small bets, coming away with a broad smile and heavier pockets when Aida quite literally punched her opponent out of the ring.
“I have to admit,” Vir said when they’d both returned to the stands. “This is a pretty good way to make money.”
Aida’s eyes flew open. “You bet on me?”
“Of course!” Vir replied. “You fight well, Aida.”
“Oh. T-thanks,” she said, looking away in embarrassment.
“Ah, she’s but a whelp,” Cirayus said, clapping his granddaughter’s back. “But she’s more than enough to deal with the rabble that challenged her. Well fought, lass.”
“Thanks, Ajja!” Aida said with a beaming smile, and for a moment, Vir had to wonder how old she really was.
“Now, that reminds me,” Cirayus said, rummaging around his pockets. “Where did I put it? Ah, yes.”
Cirayus tossed a small pouch into Vir’s hands.
“This is?”
“Your earnings from yesterday. Made a few bets on you, lad, and you didn’t disappoint. The odds were like nothing you’d ever believe.”
Vir blinked, not fully comprehending. “I can bet on myself?”
“Of course not!” Cirayus said with a sly grin. “But there’s nothing stopping you from giving some money to friends to bet on your behalf, is there?”
“That’s… interesting.” Vir would have to give serious thought to betting on his own future fights. After all, he was already betting on himself—why not back that conviction with his coin?
“This is your money, though, isn’t it?” he asked, hesitant to accept the coin.
“Oh, believe me, I made plenty on my own. This is the least I could do,” the Ravager said with a wink.
“I, um…” Aida said, scratching her chin. “I may have bet on you as well.”
“O-oh…”
It was Vir’s turn to look away.
“S-so anyway, about the battle today…” he said, looking to Cirayus for help. Unfortunately, his godfather merely smirked, perfectly content to watch Vir suffer. “It’s Roshan, right? Raja Thaman’s son? And he’s fighting an Aindri?”
The Ravager finally took pity, ending Vir’s misery. “Aye, lad. We call him Rosh. The Aindri he’s up against is Malak. A veteran of the Tournament and one I’ve fought several times.”
“Who do you think will win?” Vir asked.
“Tough to say. Rosh has many advantages, but lacks Malak’s experience. And experience is a weapon without substitute.”
Vir had to admit that while it was Tara’s fight later he looked forward to the most, this one also intrigued him. Mainly because he’d get to see an Aindri fight—of all the clans, theirs was the least familiar to him. It was to be expected, given they were the northernmost of all the clans, seldom venturing this far south.
As if on cue, the commentators announced the two warriors, calling them up to the stage.
This time, both combatants received thunderous applause, with Rosh’s coming primarily from the Bairan camp, and Malak’s coming from several.
“Seems like the crowd really likes their veteran fighters,” Vir commented.
“Aye. You develop a following, of sorts, the more times you enter. Quite possible to win the favor of other clans.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Vir replied, giving Cirayus a pointed look.
Cirayus coughed. “Anyway, I’d pay close attention to this bout, lad. The Aindri fight unlike most warriors. You may even pick up a thing or two that might benefit you in this tournament.”
“I was planning to,” Vir replied, leaning forward in his seat.
Malak was especially interesting because his companion was a prana wolf. Two of them, in fact.
They stood on either side of Malak, facing off against the Bairan giant, though despite their extreme focus on their opponent, they made no motion of acting out on their own.
“Combatants, fight!”
“Aaand here we goooo!” the commentators shouted.
“Now, I wonder who’ll make the first move, Samik. For now, they seem to be sizing each other up.”
“Y’know?” Vir said. “I thought those guys were annoying during my match, so I ignored them. I had no idea they were this annoying, though.”
Cirayus laughed. “It’s always the same. They convinced me to go on there a few times, but I learned to decline that position early on. No matter how good you are, it is never enough.”
Vir didn’t envy them, having to find something or the other to continuously talk about.
Focusing on the fight, neither party had attacked yet. Malak’s two wolves paced beside him, and occasionally, one would snap at Rosh, prompting him to angle his body slightly in case it attacked, but other than this, nothing happened.
And yet, no boos sounded from the crowd. On the contrary, rallying cries of encouragement sounded off from the Bairan and Aindri camps.
“They’re a veteran crowd,” Cirayus commented. “They know what’s coming.”
Vir heightened his awareness, and even activated Haste so he wouldn’t miss what was to come.
It was a good thing too, because even with the world at half speed, Vir barely caught it.
Seemingly without prompting, the two wolves bounded to either side of Rosh, while Malak lunged directly at the giant. Practically out of nowhere, Rosh was being attacked on three sides, and he had only the barest moment to choose who to defend against.
The giant ignored the beasts, though Vir wondered if that was the right decision.
Malak bellowed something, and Vir saw prana surge into the two wolves from the surrounding air.
Rosh twisted his body, avoiding the bite of one of the wolves, while his blade met Malak’s. The other wolf, he kicked, timing the moves perfectly.
If the wolves were injured, though, they certainly didn’t show it, relentlessly attacking the giant over and over.
“Courage,” Cirayus said. “An Aindri Bloodline Art that riles up his beasts. Under Courage, he could order them to jump off a cliff, and they’d comply with all haste. Nasty art, I must say.”
Rosh was pushed back to the edge of the ring under the triple onslaught. Or at least, that’s what it looked like.