“I…” Vir coughed. “I won’t. Give in.”
Tara strutted closer, putting Vir in the densest part of the toxic gas. He fell to all fours, hacking.
“How exactly do you intend to beat me? You won’t hurt me. Your wolf is out of the fight. And now, you can’t even stand. Can you?”
Vir glanced over at Shan, desperately hoping the wolf was faring better now. He wasn’t. The wolf was lying on the stage—either unconscious or close to it.
Tara arrived at Vir’s position, her spear positioned menacingly at his chin.
Vir struggled to raise his head to look at her.
Tara, meanwhile, waved to the crowd. “Should I hurl him off the stage? Or should I hurt him?”
The arena answered with a myriad of responses, which melted together, becoming a soup of garbled nonsense.
Tara cupped her ear and made a show of listening.
“I see!” she said, nodding to herself. “Well, Vaak. It seems they want me to push you off the stage. It’s the least I can do to respect the courtesy you’ve shown me. Don’t worry, though. I’ll administer your first aid myself. You won’t feel a thing.”
“Courtesy?” Vir wheezed. “Is that what you thought?”
Tara frowned. “Why, yes. Is that not why you haven’t hurt me?”
Then, without warning, Vir moved. Not sluggishly, or weakly, but at his absolute full power. He sprang up, driving into Tara’s torso, and Leaped.
“Not quite,” he whispered as they sailed through the air. All the way across the stage, and at their current trajectory, over it. “No hard feelings,” he whispered into her ear.
Tara heaved, her eyes bulging as the wind was knocked out of her. “N-no!” she sputtered, sucking in a hacking breath. “Wait! We’ll both lose! The bounds! We’ll go out of bounds!”
“Sorry, but I can’t afford to lose here.”
Vir pushed Tara away from him, then kicked her torso and sent her flying into the distance.
Somersaulting in midair, Vir righted himself as he fell. He watched as Tara collided with the ground and rolled to a stop, where she lay unmoving and unconscious. A full dozen paces out of bounds.
As for Vir, he activated Light Step, landing on the very edge of the stage.
Silence filled the arena as Vir rose slowly to his feet. He dusted off his armor and looked up at the commentators.
“Well? Don’t you have something to say?”
“R-right,” Samik said, his amplified voice echoing across the arena. “Winner! Vaaaak of the Ash!”
103CHITRAN VS AINDRI
Tara was immediately carted off via stretcher, but when no one came for Shan, Vir grew enraged. Still on the stage, he picked up his unconscious friend and Leaped off, not bothering to respond to the crowd—who booed and jeered at him—nor did he pay any attention to the commentators, who were talking about Shan’s capabilities.
Did none of them see his friend was hurt?
Vir raced into the waiting area and shouted even before he’d come to a stop,
“Healers! Now!”
It may have been the urgency in his tone, or the sight of an angry Tournament victor, but the handful of young demon-hands dropped what they were doing and ran to get someone, acknowledging Vir with a crisp, ‘Yes, sir!’ and ‘We’re on it, sir!’
A demon emerged, whom Vir could only guess was a Naga.
“My companion has been poisoned,” he said, trying and failing to keep the panic out of his voice. “Please, heal him!”
The Panav knelt, placing a hand upon Shan’s fur, and Vir saw the prana inside him cycle, filling the tattoo of Yuma’s Touch. It wasn’t the same as the Ultimate Bloodline Yuma’s Embrace that Tara possessed, but she was currently incapacitated, and somewhere deep inside the other end of the arena. Finding her quickly would be a challenge.
The Naga retracted his hand a moment later. “Friend, there is nothing wrong with your beast.”
“What do you mean?” Vir cried in panic. “Don’t you see? He fell ill because of Tara’s poison! He needs—”
Vir stopped as Shan twitched. His eyes fluttered open, and stood up.
“See?” the Naga said, rising to his feet. “Right as rain.”
Shan started pacing around as if nothing had happened, and Vir gave him a close look with Prana Vision. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and if the Panav trusted with healing contestants assured him nothing was wrong…
Vir let out a sigh. “Thank you. I may have panicked a bit. You have my apologies.”
“None needed!” the Naga said. “If he experiences further symptoms, please do bring him by. Our facilities are available no matter the hour.”
“Thanks,” Vir said with a small nod. “I’ll do that.”
By the time Vir returned to the grandstands, the next match had already begun. Unlike previous days, the tournament officials decided to switch up the format, putting two official fights back-to-back. The reason for that was Cirayus’ fight at the end of the day. They figured the stadium would be packed to the brim in anticipation of that fight—and it was—so they would host three fights today, instead of two.
Another tactic to milk as much money from the bets as possible—more people meant more gambling, which ultimately meant more coin flowing into Raja Thaman’s coffers.
As Vir neared his seat, he noticed Aida had been replaced by someone of greater stature, sticking out from the crowd of Bairans who surrounded them. Vir could take a guess as to their identity. There weren’t many Bairans that large, after all.
“Well fought, lad!” Cirayus roared the moment Vir was up. “That was something else. Had me fooled!”
“And I as well,” the Bairan clanlord said.
“Raja Thaman,” Vir said, bowing his head in deference. “I hadn’t expected you here.”
“Just came over to reminisce with my old mentor, is all. Though, I’d best be going.”
“Now?” Cirayus cried. “In the middle of a match? That’s the craziest thing I’ve heard all day. Sit, Thaman. And let us place bets on who will fight Vir.”
Thaman, who had been half out of his seat, hesitated, and sat back down. “Very well. Just this one match, then.”
Vir took a spot next to Cirayus, on the other side. Shan curled up at his feet, and he eyed the wolf warily.
“Your wolf,” Thaman said. “I trust he is well? You left the stage in quite a hurry.”
“I… Yes,” Vir replied. “I may have overreacted. Tara’s field seemed only to have put him to sleep, as she claimed.”
“Indeed,” Thaman said. “You’ve nothing to fear from that girl. She’d never harm your friend.”
“Right,” Vir said, thinking back to all he knew of her. She’d never once displayed that kind of hostility, or shown herself as someone who’d resort to such underhanded means.
It was nothing but paranoia, and so Vir squashed it and focused on the match.
This fight was of interest to Vir, not only because the victor would determine his next opponent, but also because of the contestants.
Saras, the Aindri with the boar, fought with Annas—a Chitran Kothi.
Vir didn’t know who he wanted to root for. The Aindri? Or the Chitran, giving him the pleasure of driving the monkey into the ground himself.
Finding he was getting worked up, Vir allowed the anger to pass. He had to remind himself that Annas had done Vir no wrong. The one he bore ill will toward was sitting somewhere up there, high up in the Chitran section. The demon responsible for the downfall of the Garga.
Annas, however, might not even have been present during the invasion.
Vir shook his head, clearing the errant thoughts. The match moved quickly, and he’d miss learning his opponent’s ways if he allowed himself these sorts of distractions. Channeling the Foundation Chakra, he once again focused on the match.