Within the heart of the stadium, the Geto was bent by the chains that covered his body, its formidable 40 meters reduced to a modest 12 meters. Positioned thus, it served as a mechanism to kindle the concentration of the youthful Mbilas. Conceived by the village head, this scenario was envisioned to imbue the game of "lipato" with a heightened sense of realism. However, not every denizen of the village greeted this with enthusiasm.
While many spectators reveled in the prospect of witnessing the monster for the first time, the perpetual mist veiling their village had hitherto shielded them from such encounters. The fog, a guardian curtain, remained largely impenetrable, save for the singular breach during the Geto invasion 32 years prior that threatened to dismantle the protective shroud around the Village.
Those who rallied behind Malamu harbored a nuanced sentiment, a touch of disappointment diffused by understanding. His decision not to vie for the victor's laurels resonated with them, a poignant acknowledgment of his humble origins mirroring their own. A collective empathy prevailed, dissuading them from wishing for the compromise of his future merely for the ephemeral gratification of pride to win this game.
Yet, amidst this tempered disappointment, a silver lining emerged. Malamu emerged as the game's Most Valuable Player, an accolade earned through a strategic and technical play where he orchestrated the *Stand Still* of numerous adversaries. Devotees of "lipato," fervent enthusiasts who delved into the game with an almost obsessive ardor, were privy to the intricacies. They discerned that Malamu operated under a tacit consign, a deliberate strategy refraining from engaging defenders in the second rim and entering the first rim. His tactical finesse unfolded in the third rim, where he applied relentless pressure on attackers, rendering them inert before the unfolding sequence of events could fully register.
Malamu, cognizant of Dombi's team triumph, found himself taken aback by the sudden presence of the protagonist in close proximity. Dombi, with a commanding stature, stood tall, his complexion imbued with a dusky grayish hue. A cascade of dreadlocks adorned his head, and one of his eyes bore a striking yellow hue, reminiscent of the piercing gaze of the Nkoyi, known as the 'Panther' in the Lingala language.
When the Azimbas had approached the village head with tidings of Matsouma's intent to forge a new expeditionary team, he expeditiously orchestrated the circumstances to ensure his grandson's ascendancy as its leader. This decision stemmed from his astute recognition that, as the initial dissenter of the project years past, he had witnessed firsthand the bountiful outcomes it yielded. The inference drawn was that Matsouma's present inclination to establish this expeditionary team signified the discovery of a new mine or well—a prospect deemed both lucrative and influential.
The village head had gleaned a profound understanding that political influence, while undeniably significant, was not the sole requisite; substantial wealth held equal importance. As the tendrils of age embraced him, the imperative to secure his clan's continued dominion over these lands grew ever more palpable in his mind.
'Why has he sought me out despite securing victory? Is it a manifestation of pride?' Malamu contemplated within the recesses of his thoughts.
Dombi now stood in immediate proximity to Malamu, a mere six meters bridging the expanse between the two adversaries. The stadium, once teeming with activity, succumbed to a hushed stillness. Even the few remaining players on the playground suspended their endeavors, compelled by the anticipation of witnessing a duel between two elite combatants.
Abana, positioned in the first rim, had strategically decided to steer clear of Malamu following their prior encounter. Her pragmatism eclipsed pride, recognizing that the ultimate objective lay in securing a triumph, even if indirect. Her mariage proposal having been rejected she knew that each Mbila bore a distinct semblance of pride, but Abana, discerning the broader implications, perceived the paramount importance of the impending clash between Malamu and Dombi. It wasn't merely a contest between the two; rather, it unfolded as a crucial exploration of the vulnerabilities of Dombi and Malamu that might unveil themselves in the crucible of combat.
"I find myself pondering the motive behind the orchestration of all your endeavors to my advantage, leki na ngayi," mused Dombi.
Leki na ngayi, a phrase resonating as 'my little brother' in the cadence of Lingala was used condescendingly as a mean to diminish Malamu's standing compared to Dombi.
'Interesting,' Malamu ruminated further. 'He endeavors to thrust me into the forefront, subtly scrutinizing my character for the onlookers, all while conveying that he bears no responsibility for directing my actions—assisting his team in securing victory. A deft maneuver to cleanse his own image and cast a shadow upon mine.'
Malamu's response, measured and deliberate, unfolded like the nuanced strokes of a masterful narrative. "I merely navigated the currents of the game. Assisting you was not my primary intention, but I cannot help but marvel at how adeptly you capitalized on my moves."
A wry acknowledgment danced across Dombi's thoughts. 'Dangerously astute,' he pondered. 'He neither confirms nor denies, deftly deflecting the discourse back upon me by emphasizing the utility of his own actions to my benefits.'
In the silent tableau that ensued, the young adversaries locked in this verbal joust comprehended the gravity of the confrontation. Unofficially, Malamu bore the imminent mantle of leadership for the forthcoming expeditionary team, backed by Matsouma's advocacy. Conversely, Dombi's grandfather, the venerable head of the village, diligently maneuvered to ensure his grandson's ascension to leadership. Tarnishing Malamu's reputation in this critical juncture could prove instrumental in shaping the narrative favorably for Dombi's cause. The stakes were not merely confined to the lipato arena; they intertwined with the clandestine currents of village politics and the looming expedition that awaited on the horizon.
Conceding that his actions were expressly crafted to aid Dombi would not only expose vulnerability in the eyes of the public but also manifest a subtle submission to him. Such an admission would inevitably cast shadows upon the character of the prospective leader of the expeditionary team, inviting unwarranted scrutiny and questioning from those who would shape the perception of leadership within the village.
Matsouma, adorned with a smile within the confines of his opulent loge, marveled at the vigor emanating from the embodiment of the village hope. "It is heartening to witness such boundless energy; a promising harbinger for the future. Do not falter, Malamu," Matsouma whispered to himself in a sotto voce.
"I believe everyone gathered here anticipates a spectacle!" proclaimed Dombi.
The stadium erupted in a cacophony of fervor, a symphony of exuberant shouts. "Woooooooo!!!!! Yeah!!!!!!…" echoed through the air. The collective roar of the crowd reverberated, accompanied by the rhythmic chant of "Boma Ye, Boma ye, Boma ye, Boma ye."
'Boma ye,' that translated to 'Kill him,' resonated, yet in this fervent context, it was not literal but rather an emotive expression of the intense atmosphere enveloping the stadium.
Dombi surged forward with calculated swiftness.
"I'll illustrate the disparity between one konga and three kongas," he declared.
The skirmish between the Mbilas unfolded with brutal efficiency, where a single misstep could tip the precarious balance fatally. In the throes of combat, words were sparse, and the air remained devoid of the usual shouts accompanying techniques' names.
Silence veiled the fighters as they honed their focus, deciphering not only the immediate threat but also discerning the enigmatic abilities of their opponents.
While Malamu and Dombi had frequently engaged in the game of 'lipato,' the statistics compiled about them were akin to studying Michael Jordan—insufficient to truly impede their play. Yet, they approached the confrontation with a guarded demeanor, aware that each could've a hidden card that could turn the tide.
Dombi unleashed a fireball, compelling Malamu to retreat.
For mist users, the exchange of [States] formed the crux of their ability. If you recall the lizard encounter, the [State] of dizziness was extracted. However, lugging lizards into one's pocket for fighting purposes was impractical. To circumvent this, Ngangas devised Maqala cartridges, encapsulating these [States] for convenient usage by Mbilas. The economy lay in preserving these [States] in the cartridges that could be carried on easily until their potency surged. For exemple the State, 'Bull strength' could be carried on one cartridge instead of Bringing a Bull into a fight.
Dombi employed a Maqala cartridge, encapsulating a modest fireball. The potential of the [State] heightened when sustained externally. In a display of finesse, he 'took' Kamata, the fireball [State], from the cartridge through his mist. Amidst the stadium's clamor, Dombi drew mist into his lungs, allowing the fireball to concentrate. As the cartridge disintegrated, he retained the fireball [State] within his lungs for two seconds, intensifying its power. In a seamless exhalation infused with Kaba 'give,' a mere heavy breath birthed the manifestation of a fireball. No theatrical stances or uttered technique names signaled his actions, emphasizing the deceptive simplicity inherent in his mastery.
The oncoming fireball surged relentlessly toward Malamu, who, during Dombi's verbal onslaught, discreetly planted a grappling hook from his Maqala cross on the ground. As the fiery projectile approached, Malamu willed the grappling hook to dodge it perilously close, the fireball narrowly skimming past him.
The challenge with wielding a singular Konga lay in its limited capacity to harbor only two states. This dichotomy forced Mbilas to allocate one state for absorbing damage and transmitting it to Maqala shields, reserving the other for offensive maneuvers. With the luxury of possessing two Kongas, the possibilities expanded; the first Konga housing two states and the second accommodating up to four, allowing for a dynamic blend of damage transmission, attacks, and incorporation of other states like motion and perception.
Strategically, Malamu found himself constrained, capable of employing only two [States] at a time with a lone konga. In stark contrast, Dombi wielded three Kongas, enabling the utilization of up to 14 states. The spatial allocation for one [State] [S.p] served as the theoretical model, indicating that one konga contained two S.p. Complex states sometimes demanded more than one konga, exemplified by the fireball's cost of 3 S.p—comprising 2 S.p from the first konga and 1 S.p from the second konga.
To elucidate further, the first Konga could harbor 2 states, the second Konga could embrace 4 states, and the third Konga could encompass 8 states. In totality, it amounted to 14 states or 14 S.p.
"It appears that young Dombi has activated the panther speed and reaction [state]," mused an observant Mbila analyzing the fight. Despite the rapid pace, this particular Mbila, equipped with a perception cartridge, drew a state that warped time, making one second feel like 16 for ten seconds. Specialized in perception and analysis, he harnessed Maqala cartridges containing states that augmented his thinking and perceptual faculties manyfold.
Amidst the analyst's contemplation, the fireball's evasion left Dombi unruffled, but the ensuing explosion propelled Malamu forward. Seizing the opportunity, he deployed a cartridge housing the dizzy state, attempting to lash out at Dombi and narrowly avoiding the later devastating punch that found its mark on an obstacle behind him. Malamu's trajectory struggled to readjust due to the fireball explosion that pushed him forward, the entire sequence unfolding in a mere 3 seconds after Dombi's fireball release. However, before Malamu could gather his wits, Dombi, lurking in his blind spot, demanded a swift reset. Employing a grappling hook, Dombi zigzagged around obstacles, aiming to unsettle his pursuer who he believed to be in the rear.
In the attempt to destabilize the presumed follower, Malamu suddenly felt an intensified warmth from the sun, an oddity for the afternoon. Raising his head, he discerned a fireball hurtling toward him. Swiftly, he drew a Maqala-made smoke bomb, ready to deploy.
Then there was a deafening crash.