The final match. When The White Phantom told me about this tournament, I thought that there'd at least be some worthwhile opponents here. But it's all been fodder.
"Returning to the ring after dominating every other opponent she's had, we have the Curator Rosa de Leon!"
The moment the gate closes behind me, the gnats outside the cage boo just at the sound of my name. Like I'd care what you think. None of you would even think of walking inside here and booing me to my face.
"And her opponent, the gladiator for Melanie's All Sight, the titan of the underworld, the iron woman, Vilma Reyes!"
A low shake ripples ahead through the canvas floor, as a woman with long bushy hair and muscles bigger than my head climbs the steps.
I've seen her previous matches, I'm not impressed. She didn't fight anyone of note, and she crushed everyone she was put against before they could put up any resistance.
That means my information's limited. We're in completely different weight classes. And she's smiling, that confidence could mean she's appraised me the same way I'm doing her, and she's certain she'll win.
Finally, a match that might be worth something.
"This'll be my first time going against a Curator!" She smiles. "But don't hold back, give it your all against me!"
I crack my knuckles and roll the rust out my neck. "You better not disappoint. I've waited this entire tournament for any kind of challenge."
Her size and strength are her obvious fortes, I'll have to rely on my speed and wear her down. I'll make it a battle of endurance and exhaust her. Let's hope she's good enough to prove me wrong!
The bell rings and I push forward, confident in my strategy. My heels float off the ground, my arms barricade my head from any surprise attack while also sitting ready for a strike of my own. I scan her approach, one foot forward, left arm drawn back, eyebrows scrunched. She's screaming her plan of attack before it even starts. Disappointing...
As I predicted, her left fist takes its projected course, descends like a shooting star, and whiffs entirely when I pivot my right foot. The torrent of wind that travels with her wayward punch is staggering, and a statement of how strong she is. But all that muscle doesn't matter if she can't touch me.
More wind blusters through my hair when another erratic punch goes as well as I'd expected. Her swings are wild, unfocused, easy. I'm ducking and diving them with a glance. I need something more if I want to get better. I thought she'd be that, but she's just... nothing. This is worse than that annoying Phantom.
A slow chop at my shoulders is sidestepped smoothly, and I draw my right elbow back. I overestimated her, she's nothing. I'll end this quickly so I can get out of this dump. I let the arrow fly, sticking a swift shot in the muscle under her ribs.
"Ack!" My arm! When I punched her, it felt like I slammed my hand against a brick wall! Did I miss, punch her hip bone or rib? But even then, her bones shouldn't be that hard should they?
A sluggish punch nearly scathes me while I'm distracted. I can't be distracted. If her bones are really that tough, then I just have to be careful with where I punch.
Another opening in her poor defenses arises when her arms come up for an attack, abandoning her stomach for me to attack. I swiftly twist a vortex up with my arm and send the whirlwind jab into the weak spot.
"Nngh!" It's the same thing! My arm almost broke from my own punch! I know I hit her stomach, so why is it so hard? She's solid steel wherever I hit!
Her hands come down together as a gavel that misses my light body. No matter how bizarre this is, I can't get flustered. If I remember my footwork and stay moving, she has no chance of hitting me.
"What is with you? You're rock solid!"
"Thank you! I do work out a lot, so it makes sense I'm a tough nut to crack!" I don't know what it is, but that can't be a normal muscle I'm hitting. She's cheating, I know it! Maybe it's implants or an Antique I don't know about! Just thinking about it is getting my stomach hot!
She shakes the ring rushing to my side, and her palms grab air when I phase through her. Blunt force isn't working, so I'll use her brutish strength against her! Right on cue, she misses another feral swing. But this time, I wrap my arm around her trunk arm, slide my left foot back, and pull her with all I've got!
Shit! She's as heavy as she looks!
My knees almost buckle under her weight! Feet sinking deeper into a floor not made to flex this much. An ocean of sweat trickles from my palms, turning just holding on into a battle I need to win. But I can do it!
"I'll send you through the ring!"
I fling her over my shoulder, exhaling through my clamped teeth as I release the herculean load. Her ten-ton body smacks the floor, rousing the chain-link fence around us into a violent roar. Greedy gasps fight to get a tranquil breath in and out of me. My hands can't help but gravitate to my knees. My body pleads with me to savor the short break as it tries to regain what little energy it can.
But, she's down. The ogre was heavier than a ton of bricks. She's big, but she shouldn't be anywhere near my weightlifting personal record. If I have trouble just lifting her, I need to train more.
"That's a first!" She rises from the ground, rattling her head back into place. "I've never been manhandled like that before! You're strong, but Miss Melanie sent me in here because she believes in me and my strength. And when I beat you, I know she'll-"
"Shut up. Stop dreaming like you're going to win this." My heels float like feathers in an updraft. My arms sway near the center of my body. "You're nothing. No matter how tough you might think you are, I'll crack you in half."
The biggest hurdle is her brick body. Every punch likely hurts me more than her. It's going to cost me a few bones, and it could take longer than I'd like, but it's training. Exactly what I came here for. I don't need to know if or how she's cheating. They'd be able to bring her down, so I have to bring her down!
I step closer into her, bouncing and pivoting through her telegraphed attacks. Another swing misses even when I'm right inside her, inches away from her hands. No matter how close I get, she's so easy to avoid it's putting me to sleep. I shouldn't risk kicking her, because if I damage my legs on her rocky body, I'll be slower to dodge. The throw did nothing to her, and she'll easily overpower me if I attempt a hold.
But, all she's been doing is attempting to grab and punch me. Her legs haven't made an offensive move yet. Either because she isn't skilled enough to kick me in any meaningful way, or what I hope is the solution, that her legs aren't as solid as the rest of her body.
Her monstrous weight shifts onto the balls of her feet, essentially telling me an in-depth summary of what she's planning to do next. Her advancing motion while her arms are still relatively tucked in. It looks like she's given up launching her fist at me in favor of pursuing me with her whole body.
It'll end the same way. You can't touch me.
My feet spring off the ground into the blended sweaty air of the ring. I curl my head into my chest and spiral into a flip. I can't see her with my face tucked in, but I feel a strong gust of wind brushing against my neck hairs. The evasive leap is successful, and the momentum of her lazy grab carries her directly under me.
Now with her in position, my body unfolds and softly lands facing away from her on my left foot. In one fluid motion, my left foot plants its roots into the canvas, my right foot climbs high over my head as Vilma's lagging body attempts to turn to me, and my waterfall heel crashes down on the shallow crevice behind her right knee.
Except the soft part isn't fleshy or soft as I'd hoped! It's stone! A stone that sends an unkind force back into my leg with equal strength.
Alright. I've confirmed her lower body is just as hard as the rest of her body. And the rebounded pain is a bitch! But, even if her lower body isn't the secret weak spot I thought it could be, I've still gotten my desired result.
The specific spot I aimed for, the Popliteal Fossa, the area on the back of her knee that keeps us upright. Easily exploitable if an experienced fighter uses it against an unprepared opponent. And thankfully, both of us fit those descriptors.
Her knee bends involuntarily, dropping her down to my eye level. With her turned away, the back of her head is completely exposed and she's helpless to stop me. I can see my success before I even move. Her head rings like a bell when I exhale and strike her with my arm. It rings a victory anthem. A triumphant theme that makes the pulsating pain in my arm a little bit softer. Her head rings and rings, knocking her brain against her iron edges.
She won't stay down from that. I can even see hints of her regaining herself right now. Her arms are reaching for the stable ground, while her legs are slowly putting her upright. She's getting ready for something, probably another attempt to capture me. Her ability to bounce back so easily is annoying, especially when I went through all of that and landed such a brutal hit on the back of her head. But at least she was phased by it. She's durable but she can be hurt. I knew I'd win, now I at least have some direction.
She stops her head from bobbling and jerks her body in my direction. Her arms come down on me with the speed of a lazing tortoise. So slow that one backstep sends me miles away from where her claws come down.
"Do you mind sitting still? I can't hit you if you keep jumping around like that."
I'm not even going to bother responding to her. I don't need to bother anymore. I have her weak spot; I know how to evade her. All I need to do now is put what I've gathered into motion.
She strides towards me, a wide grin stroked across her face. Enjoy it while you can, you won't be awake for much longer. She can't lay a finger on me when I'm less than a foot from her face, so fighting far away or running around the ring to dodge her does nothing for me. All I have to do is play close to her head and brace myself when I attack her!
A wild swipe flies over my head, and an arrowhead uppercut pierces hers. My wrist screams from the backlash.
Brace Rosa!
A desperate headbutt flies wayward and I seize the opportunity, beating her watermelon head with a jab right to the nose. A crunching sound reaches my ears. I think it's her's for a moment before my left middle finger drowns in a tidal wave of pain.
Gah! It's warm! It's not moving! I think I broke it!
But she's stunned! Her head is falling back! Her stride is broken!
I jump into her face. I almost bite my inner cheek off, dragging the broken bone into a coalition with my other fingers. They stick together, intertwined and morphing. Molding into a heavy mallet and holding each other in that position. Holding just long enough for me to smash that mallet against her hard forehead.
Another finger starts signaling for me to surrender, and the one that might've been broken before the bunch isn't moving an inch when I tell it. Every time I try to take my mind off them, the stiff pain tugs me back to it.
My eyes look up to my opponent, partially to avoid staring at my swelling finger, but also to see what damage she's going through. I just shattered my finger into pieces with that punch. Her skull has to be in the same state.
Her balance wavers for a moment, but before I even touch back down her glare finds me. Her nose looks scratched at most, but not a drop of blood is anywhere to be seen.
Hmph! Fine by me! I'll cut you down to nothing!
Her fist shoots forward as my toes touch down, my head weaves the perfect amount away from the blow, and I cross her along the cheek.