With the preliminaries settled, it was currently a recess for the next match. The participants were given access to a tonic in exchange for confiscating and restoring their wooden weapons. The gel-like drink was copper-like, viscous and truthfully quite disgusting, too mucous to even attempt chewing, but it revitalized the students for the next round.
The students were supposed to perform this trade so they may not infuse their wooden weapons with any magic during the breaks between the matches. But that was not quite true. It was a choice – To keep one's wooden weapon enchanted and coated with their magic or to recover their stamina and have the weapon restored to its original intended form.
There were indeed competitors that were strong enough to last through the whole tournament without recovering or resting even once, namely the veterans like Deku. There were also other competitors that relied heavily on the enchantments inscribed upon their weapons, the unfortunate ones who were forced to play defensively and gave up on the healing syrup in order to sustain the magic on their weapon.
Katachi struggled to drink the thick, gooey copper syrup, unaware of the option to forgo its ingestion. It was wriggling and wobbling between his mouth and throat, like a pouch of water that was well-preserved and unbroken, a concise-enough description of how thick and cohesive the syrup was. The sensation easily plagued nightmares in one's sleep but the after-taste was mildly sweet.
He felt like he would choke if he didn't drink it down quick yet it was difficult to swallow the liquid because of its very nature. He felt his throat obstructed by the liquid, unable to retract after widening for its initial entry. He forcibly tilted his head upwards, compelling the jelly-like goo down his mouth and throat before it finally yielded.
M: "Hahahaha! Disgusting, isn't it?"
A spiky-haired boy walked up behind him, patted him on the shoulder and sat down on the wooden stool in front of him.
K: "Mafer? You're here... You got a token as well?"
M: "Yeah, I did. It's not as hard as I thought. I'd think that Deku would wipe the floor but nobody even tried to hold him back. That guy just strolled towards the rope in a carefree manner and grabbed a token like he was buying groceries. That's next-level respect scarier than anything I've ever seen. Did you see it?"
K: "I... I didn't. The preliminaries were held at roughly the same time, weren't they?"
M: "Huh. Good point. But seriously, he's a real toughie. I have never seen anyone so intimidating that the rest of the competitors view the mere thought of challenging him as silly. There were loads of murmurs and the like among the crowds but I heard you did pretty well yourself, snatching the first token with a trick like that."
Mafer seemed to have noticed from the audience chattering about that Katachi used some kind of unknown magic during the preliminaries.
M: "How did you do it, Mister healer?"
It came down to a challenging decision.
Katachi could directly tell Mafer that he possessed a Word of Power on him, but the problem was whether the secret would leak. If the news got out Katachi will never be able to relax, not even in his own room. The students would glare at him for being a cheater. The teachers would likely plan to kill him and claim the Word of Power for their own. Bertund promised that he would do his utmost to assist Katachi in that aspect but his word left much room for doubt.
The safest solution was to lie. Segus once cited that 'One ought tattle only lies of white when need be.' So, if Katachi was lying about his power to protect everyone from the madness and power lust it was acceptable behavior. But even so, he had to come up with something convincing to lie about.
He couldn't just say 'Oh, I can partially float' because he would be questioned on the type of magic used. He needed a convincing argument that could cover up the Word of Power's true potential, a foreign magic or something powerful enough to rival it.
K: "... I'm..."
Katachi revised through all the knowledge of gods, magic and reincarnate arts he could think of. It was better to use the tales of gods instead of the tales of legends so the authenticity of his deceit could be masked. Finally, he found one that was suitable.
K: "I'm a believer of Soltak."
M: "Wha- Seriously? A Soltak believer? That's really rare."
Mafer seemed to have bought the argument.
K: (Good. Very good. He seems convinced.)
M: "So, you're only that powerful so long as you're in direct sunlight?"
K: "There was no need for direct sunlight. It's been overcast since this morning, Mafer. I can also use regular sunlight about, though the Reincarnate Art would be weakened."
M: "Huh. So, even without direct sunlight, you can still use Soltak's Reincarnate Art?"
K: "Yes, but to a lesser degree."
Soltak's Reincarnate Art used sunlight in favor of one's mental image to evoke the unnatural. It implicitly meant that Soltak followers were indomitable by day but became much weaker at night, especially on a new moon where they would become enfeebled and their efforts in bolstering their fortitude undone.
It was a convenient lie because nobody would be able to notice any significant difference at night. Katachi had yet to show his Word of Power at all, and since the students only saw each other in the day, it was easy to pull the bluff.
M: "That's cool. Well, I'll be off now. The first official match begins really soon and I'm first up. See you around."
*** ***
Katachi squeezed through the students to reach an empty seat on the huge stone stairs. He found a comfortable spot in a corner that distanced him from the other students and peered into the ring of the coliseum-like stage for the first battle. It was an empty, barren platform with a projection of a match between two students in Cosmatral Tlod with an Eye of Jedivh.
But that alone was exciting enough to eke the interest of the crowd. Mafer was holding a wooden staff in his left hand and a small unlit candle in his right. He was consistently dodging and swatting down the opponent's attacks the entire match. His opponent, whose name was Vikarr as displayed, was throwing strange tablets of what seemed to be wooden card pieces.
K: (A Feister-61 deck? So he's using Sha'koth as a base for his spells?)
"What a joker! Vikarr's striking a cool pose again!"
One of the male students sitting behind him was scoffing the behavior of the student named Vikarr.
K: (That looks pretty tough. That Vikarr guy is not giving him time to catch his breath or formulate a plan at all, pinching and cornering him aggressively. Are they all like this?)
*** ***
M: (This guy's bound to run out of these wooden pieces sooner or later.)
Mafer continued avoiding the wooden pieces as best as he could. Some would hit him on the arm or his sides, which felt like a hard rigid pebble had been thrown at him. But thankfully none of them hurt to the point of flinching. Just as he believed to have survived the worst of it, the opponent began the trick up his sleeve.
V: "Okay, I have now exhausted all of my cards."
His opponent openly declared that he ran out of cards to throw.
M: (Is this a trap?)
V: "Now then, don't be shy. Look at this card."
Vikarr picked up a wooden tablet on the ground and showed Mafer one of its faces. On the card was a simplistic pattern on it. From the way he phrased his words one could assume that every card had a broad-headed V on it.
V: "Do you think this card is a V for 'Victory'? Or do you think it is V for 'Vicious'?"
Mafer raised his guard even more. There was no reason why a student would reveal his magic's pattern and trick to give the opponent a second wind. Not unless...
V: "Make your choice."
... Not unless the winner was already decided.
M: "I go with V for 'Vicious'. Is that fine?"
Mafer raised the candle on his right hand he clutched onto dearly and aimed his spell towards Vikarr.
V: "Sorry. Wrong answer."
Vikarr snapped one of his fingers and the cards scattered about his feet started to rattle. The bright V's on every card radiated a sinister blood red, and they started to fly in the direction the V's bottom tip was pointing at. Mafer realized it the moment the cards started rattling, but it was far too late.
M: (Sha'koth, the trickster legend said to have become a god by impersonating one, had a story where he was able to make a duck walk backwards in a bet. He did it by attaching fishing lines onto the duck's legs and someone from the bushes tugged the duck's legs step by step to make it look like it walked backwards. But the highlight was that he painted the duck's feet with a reverse arrow underneath, and claimed that the arrows made the duck walk backwards. Converting it into an attack spell with Image Power...)
The wooden tablets flew in the air like swallows and bats, beating up, bruising and even incising Mafer with a flurry of attacks from all directions. In the pain, Mafer tried to kneel down, but the knee that became exposed was struck by a card immediately as though capitalizing on every opening he revealed. In utter agony Mafer could only clench and wrap his body in a fetal position with his back against the ground to protect his vitals.
V: "Game over. They are not letter Vs – They are arrowheads."
Vikarr placed the one wooden card he held flatly on his hand and raised it above his head. The rest of the cards, still fluttering about and ravaging Mafer, responded to it and flew out in every direction in a coordinated manner before heading towards Vikarr. The cards flew behind him and neatly stacked themselves above the one card in his hand.
"And that, my friends, is how you use a Feister-61 deck properly. This is for my juniors Samuel and Ginevette!"
*** ***
K: (Beaten completely in the first round like meat to the tenderizer.)
Katachi wore a grim expression on his face. Mafer was demolished by a foe who didn't even break a sweat, denied any chance to retaliate. No matter how impressive Croxa's Reincarnate Art was, if it could not be used it was as pointless as teaching a pet dog to swim in lava. The first official match took less than two minutes, and it could barely be called a match – A one-sided beatdown was more appropriate.
K: (I should expect this level of difficulty against my own opponents... No, even greater. I can't expect everything to sail smooth. If a participant fared this well against Mafer, I wonder what the champion could do.)
*** ***
The previous champion couldn't have come at a more opportune time.
D: "Hello, everyone!"
Deku exclaimed in a pep and energy nobody could resist. The crowd went absolutely nuts over his simple greeting.
D: "Let's start raising the stakes immediately! Alright, what will it be... Hmm, well, let's see... What would be a good punishment for my incompetence?"
The crowd hushed down quickly, awaiting Deku's words like orphans who couldn't afford education peering into a classroom to learn new things from the teacher.
D: "I know! If I lose this match, I'll drink that disgusting healing syrup as water for a whole week!"
The crowd roared with laughter over that ludicrous declaration. Of course, that moxie radiating from Deku was not without base. He had been the champion of the tournament for thrice in a row already, and to be beaten by someone he defeated thrice would be an utter disgrace.
It could also be proof of said individual's improvement should the worst occur, but healthy competition was difficult to come by for Deku. That aside, the crowd did not take his bets seriously since he was likely going to win the match.
Z: "Hello again, Deku. You ready for this?"
D: "Of course! Same rules as always, then? Though, I doubt you'd have enough time to even cast your spells."
And so, with the ready signal present from both sides, the two began their match.
*** ***
That was the fastest match yet.
In two seconds, Deku punched the floor with his glowing fist and the land beneath him glowed yellow before being 'absorbed' into his right arm. In the next two seconds, Deku simply punched toward the general area where Zul was and the yellow liquid-like attack lashed out like a whip from his still-glowing arm. The yellow tassel expanded into a strange shape before losing its yellow luster. The huge chunk of land that was once beneath Deku's feet was thrown toward Zul at a ridiculous pace.
With nowhere to run, Zul could only hold his arms forward in a defensive stance and ram into the huge mound of sand and grit head-on. The land broke apart into many fine pieces because it was mostly made of sand, but Zul received the full brunt of the blow. In five seconds, the second match ended with the poor student partially buried in the barren field.
K: (Vikarr and his Feister-61, Deku with Conduit Imbue... These people are all power freaks. I remember Bael mentioning something like her not having enough time to set up her traps in the arena, but this is ridiculous.)
That may be so, yet the child was not shocked, to say the least.
K: (At least they don't look like the type to counter spells. Even if they're mostly older than I am, they're just students after all. Most of them have likely never seen Minister Lein or an actual sorceror in action before.)
He felt a harrowing disposition as he recalled a most displeasing scene of a man arrested and humiliated by a certain renowned sorceror years ago, a darkness to Image far more severe than the magic the children now perform. In comparison to their mere enactment of tales, to forcibly construe a spell of malice by trapping a man in his own history was far crueler.
K: (Not that I'm in any position to speak. I feel like I will utterly die without my Word of Power as protection. Muscle is just muscle and they treat magic as some tool to better themselves, but spells that can't be prepared for ahead of time are the most fearsome. It's not all bad, though. At least they are using magic.)
Katachi squeezed his way past the spectator zone and to the armory.
K: (It's my turn next... But it's against Cillian de Vorsche, a knight. Of all the opponents I could be paired against, it had to be a warrior who favors might over magic. gods help me, I feel my throat choking up.)