In an observation deck on a higher floor of the building, Joseph fine tuned his guitar as Violet and Tristan stood behind him.
Violet: It appears father was here after all.
Tristan: He was? I thought he entrusted us with being his representatives. No wonder we weren't invited to the dinner.
Violet: I was really hoping to meet with Daymond and Theodore…
Tristan: It doesn't matter. Once Moll clears out the left side of the bracket and Joseph the right, we'll get our chance to meet them.
Joseph: The Masked Man is going to be the one to win.
Tristan: What?
Joseph: Moll is definitely going to lose.
Violet: That makes no sense. Aren't you and Moll in the same group? Why would you want him to lose?
Joseph: The Masked Man is a closer ally of mine and far easier to handle than Moll. Even if I convinced him that Thong isn't trustworthy, he'll likely not trust my word.
Joseph ran his fingers across the strings of his guitar, a harmonious tune echoed across the room. Violet and Tristan wore confused looks on their faces as Joseph grew a smile.
Joseph: Moll is a man that's stuck in the past. The Masked Man took the steps forward that he needed to advance into the future. No matter how you look at it, Masked will win.
Tristan: Are you sure that's the best play, Joseph?
Joseph: Trust me, I work with both of them. Masked has this in the bag.
…
Cero sat in a room with his arms crossed, staring up at the monitor that showcased the entire ring. The members of his faction all stood around him, all of them minus Mason.
Cero: Moll will win this.
Kammy: You sound pretty confident in that statement.
Cero: Because I am. I'm not particularly close with him or anything, so it's not a feeling of sentiment or kinsmanship. He is simply the superior fighter.
Bruna: A-A-Are you sure? That Masked guy seems really scary.
Tico: So was Gary and look how he turned out. I haven't seen as much of Moll as Cero has, but it's without a doubt that this guy is terrifying.
Bruna, despite having the reassuring words of her allies, couldn't help but feel terrified. The two men that stood in the center of the ring showed two vastly different eras of the Eclipse. She gulped, unable to reach the slightest conclusion on who would win between the two.
…
Masked and Moll both stared each other down, holding onto the hilts of their weapons. Moll looked down as he fastened the sheath onto his pants, grabbing the hilt once more with his right hand. Masked swung his sword down, stopping it before it reached the ground. He brought the sword back up, the tip of the blade pointed at Moll's head. The referee stood between both fighters, taking a few steps back to ensure he was out of their way. Moll's expression lacked a single worry, staring at the expressionless mask that his opponent wore.
Referee: FIGHTERS! TAKE YOUR STANCES!
Moll quickly pulled his sword from the sheath, the audience looking on in surprise. They all had the same thought in mind.
Audience: Moll finally unsheathed his sword?
Zenzo watched the fighters with a smile, leaning back in his seat.
Zenzo's thoughts: He's taking this more seriously already. This'll be a more interesting match than the first round.
Referee: ARE YOU READY?!
The audience let out an abundance of cries and cheers. Every fighter felt excitement burn in them as they watched the two swordsmen face off against one another.
Referee: BEGIIIIIIIIN!!!
The referee swung down his arm, his face tensing up. Both Moll and Masked jumped at one another, their swords clashing sent the sound of metal echoing across the stadium. Neither fighter gave an inch, their faces mere inches away from one another.
Moll: Not bad.
Masked and Moll pushed off one another's sword, opening the distance between them. Moll wore a smirk as he kicked off the ground, bolting at Masked as he tensed his grip on his hilt. The mask's eye slits glowed red, Masked pulled his sword above his head before swinging it downward. Moll slammed the edge of his blade to the side of Masked's broadsword, sliding off of it and forcing it to slam into the ground. Masked's head moved back, the tip of Moll's blade mere centimeters from his neck.
Moll: Looks like you got a bit cocky there, didn't you?
Masked: So did you.
Moll jumped back, Masked's sword flying off the ground and into the air at a quick speed. Moll looked down at his arm, feeling warmth around the center of his forearm. He looked down at it, noticing blood begin to form.
Moll's thoughts: The cut was minor, but he had the accuracy and timing to get me. Not bad, kid.
Zachary: The first to draw blood in this match was The Masked Man! Could the fighter with the longest history be at a disadvantage here?!
Moll changed into a hanging left stance, the hilt of his blade being close to his head as the tip pointed at Masked once more.
Moll: But I can't let you do that again.
Moll took flight, closing the distance between himself and Masked before swinging down his sword. Masked matched his strike, both of their blades colliding with a loud clanging sound. Both of their arms struggled as they attempted to push the other back. Their feet shuffled as they both attempted to get the better ground.
Yussuf: These guys are good!
Nupan: You can say that again. I can hardly keep up with 'em.
The members of the Arachna that shared the room with members of the Imperium stared at the match intensely.
Yussuf: There are a bunch of sword guys I could learn from here.
Arthur: Same could go for you, right, Nupan?
Nupan: Shut up. These guys are lucky I wasn't out there.
Ziyad: I must say, these guys are truly in a league of their own. How hard do you think it would be to bring them into the army?
Theresa: I'd rather not welcome elderly and unnamed persons into our ranks so easily, Ziyad.
Ziyad: My bad, I was getting ahead of myself.
Moll and Masked pushed off one another once again, jumping back to open the distance further. Masked increased the pressure in his legs, Moll noticed the air around him began to feel different. Shifting into a lower stance, Moll held the hilt closer to his waist as the blade stood between himself and Masked. Masked flew off the ground, closing the large distance in an instant. Moll tensed up his muscles as he flew back from the impact of their swords colliding. Masked came to a halt as Moll pushed himself back up, his cool expression beginning to waver.
Moll: That's some scary speed.
Moll's thoughts: If he has this speed, why isn't he using it again for a follow up? I wonder…
Moll picked himself back up, aiming his sword at Masked once more. Masked held his sword tightly in both hands as his legs began to recover.
Masked's thoughts: Using Compression this way was never really my forte, but I saw the perfect opportunity to attack him. I can't leave myself open too much, now.
Masked's eyes glowed red as he watched Moll charge at him, forcing every muscle in his arms to swing his sword. Masked quickly swung at Moll's side, Moll turning his sword to tank the blow of the strike. He was hit with a realization when taking the blow, pushing away the sword before spinning and cutting a piece of Masked's cloak. Masked stepped back, turning to look at the damage to his clothing.
Moll's thoughts: That blow was a bit weaker than his last one. No, it was weaker than most of them. Whatever he did for that speed thing is hampering him everywhere…
Moll held his ground, grabbing the hilt of his sword with both hands as he swung it directly at Masked's arm. Masked followed the blow, blocking with his sword and sliding back with it. Moll refused to give Masked a moment of rest, rushing in and unleashing a flurry of swings at Masked. Masked tensed up his arm, moving his sword as quickly as he could to block each of the incoming strikes. His eyes darted once more as his foot flew out, kicking Moll away. Moll let out a gasp as he held his stomach with his left hand.
Moll: I guess you refuse to go down easy.
Masked steadied himself, regaining his composure as he aimed his blade at Moll once more.
Masked's thoughts: I thought he'd be easier to take out, but it looks like I'm going to need to actually use my eyes perfectly to deal with him.
Masked's eyes glowed once more, Moll putting a hand in front of his eyes to handle the glare. He heard steps, immediately bringing his arm down and preparing his sword for the blow. Masked appeared on his left, swinging his sword towards Moll's midsection. Moll swung down on Masked's blade, only for his strike to hit air. Masked spun on his heel as his blade now aimed for Moll's back. Moll turned around, meeting the swing with his sword. The uncomfortable position he was put in forced him back, Moll gritting his teeth the entire time. Moll was pushed back, Masked swinging his sword into the air before bringing it down on Moll. Moll turned to face him, swinging his sword to meet Masked's. Their arms trembled as they fought against one another. They brought their swords back and quickly clashed with one another, their swords unleashing clanging sounds throughout the ring.
Zachary: What an intense back and forth! These two are really giving it their all!
Zenzo: Right as it looks like one has the advantage, the other takes over then they share even blows! Their ability to react and attack is inhuman!
Moll widened his stance, his strikes beginning to increase in power. Masked returned the act in turn, tensing his muscles as he matched Moll once again. Their swords met at a standstill, neither giving an inch. The audience was left enthralled in the battle, unable to keep their eyes off it. Moll's expression was entirely serious, his muscles bulging as he prevented Masked's blade from moving forward. That soon began to falter, Masked's sword moving closer and pushing Moll's sword down. In an instant, Masked pushed down on Moll's sword and prepared to land a finishing blow. Suddenly, a warmth began to trickle down his hand; the nearly silent sound of the warmth dripping onto the ground echoed in his ears. He stumbled back, his sword slamming into the ground. The audience let out an audible gasp as they watched Masked tightly hold onto his wrist, blood dripping onto the ground.
Moll: C'mon, that cut wasn't that deep.
Moll smiled, walking up to Masked's sword and kicking it away. Masked watched as Moll sheathed his blade and unbuckled it from his waist.
Moll: I don't enjoy beating up opponents with my unsheathed sword, y'know.
Moll held the sheathed sword in front of Masked before throwing it behind him. Masked watched as it hit the ground, turning to face Moll.
Moll: I saw how you fought in the first round. So how about you give this old man a taste of that, huh?
Masked: Are you mocking me?
Moll: Mocking you? Nah, I just like me a good ol' fight.
Moll brought up both his fists, moving his feet like a boxer. Masked gritted his teeth underneath his mask, releasing his wrist and widening his stance.
Masked: I'll make you regret that.