As the morning came, Omoi rose from his sleep, his body laying upon the floor with his legs still touching the wall, as if he were sitting on it. His muscles had a dull ache to them as he laid there, still as a stone.
As he relaxed, he could hear everything around him, each droplet of water and every breath he took as loud and as prominent as the sound of chatter around him.
He reflected on his life, the sun that beat upon his skin every time he stepped into the arena, once a symbol of his peaceful and simple life, now just another one of his many oppressors. The seeds in the ground, so full of life and promise, only to turn to ashes under the flames of uncaring demons, these so-called knights. The delight of a home with a family, one that could warm even the coldest of winters, now only a cold, damp cell with only one man to call a friend, a friend that now refuses to acknowledge his existence.
The signature clanking of the bars broke through it all, as the guard approached him for what he knew, whether he lived or died, would be the final time.
"Alright you two, time to go."
Omoi and Master Daihei were led back up into the entrance of the arena. 8 men gathered for one last chance at freedom.
The head guard moved in front of them, as he had yesterday. "Good morning, you lot. I hope you've rested well, because one way or another, this will be your final day here. This is a special occasion, as the royal family will be watching the spectacle, so make sure to give them some entertainment."
"Daihei and Y'hone, you will be first up. Make sure it's a good one."
The two men followed the same routine as always, making their way outside. As Daihei selected his sword, Y'hone selected a bow and arrow. Stange for a battle, like this. Whilst in group battle, it was very useful, able to thin numbers at a distance, in a one on one, it didn't hold the same level of practicality, especially one as fast and as skilled as Master Daihei.
'So why?' Omoi questioned.
"Good Morning, Lords and Ladies!" A voice rang out over the arena, "We have come for a very special day, as the final 8 of the Freedom Tournament compete for their freedom, and for your entertainment!"
Omoi looked across the arena at the thousands in the audience. He could see in a large box-like structure and group of people that stood out. The oldest woman was familiar, as he had seen her a couple of times over the years. The two younger ones, a boy his age, blonde hair and in white regal clothes, and the girl, slightly younger were also familiar, but it had been so long since he had seen them, back when he was still just a child.
But the man was new, his clothes even more regal than the others, and he wore a large golden crown his head, shiny enough to even glisten down to where Omoi and the rest were.
"And joining us on this occasion are our esteemed king, Hairota II and his Queen Maribelle, alongside our dear Prince Gilien and Princess Yuribelle. Let us all give our noble royals the respect they deserve."
The crowd roared and cheered for their king, as if their lives depended on it. The king accepted the praise as gracefully as possible, waving around to vatious people in the audience. The cheering soon died down as the festival prepared to continue.
"For our first match of the day, we have the Lord of the Hunt, Y'hone battling the God of the Blade, Daihei! This will certainly be an intetesting one. Will the blade beat the bow? Or will the hunter claim another trophy?"
Daihei took a stance as Y'hone drew back his arrow.
"Let the battle commence!"
The first arrow fired, firing across the field like a lightning bolt, straight for Daihei's head. Most would have been hopeless to stop it, up the master was not a normal man. The arrow bounced off his sword, and as it soared through the air, master Daihei grabbed hold before throwing it right back. The arrow zipped back to it's owner, nicking him across the side.
Ignoring the rush of pain, Y'hone pulled out a few more arrow and loosed a volley at Master Daihei. The master deftly avoided or blocked each arrow making sure to send one back. Y'hone soon began catching the arrows sent back and refiring them, each arrow flitting back and forth between the two combatants.
As this was happening, Master Daihei was gradually approaching, each block he took a step forward, slowly closing the distance.
An arrow was loosed into the air as Daihei took the moment to rush his opponent, trying to cut him down then and there. Y'hone had apparently predicted this, using the oak bow to redirect the sword. The steel bit into the wood, but the wood held strong as Y'hone used his own oppertunity, jumping away from the master in order to regain distance.
More arrows were loosed, and master Daihei continued to block the blows effortlessly, but Omoi could see something was happening, Y'hone was no longer moving away from the master so much as around him, as if he were leading him across the battlefield to a certain destination.
The arrow! Omoi remembered the arrow Y'hone had fired into the air. He was trying to lead him to where the arrow would land!
Omoi wanted to scream out to his master, to warn him of the danger, but a part of him held that back. It warned him of speaking out of term, of the consequences such an action may have. It might cost him this one chance at freedom after all that time and effort it took to get here. All those lives he ended, all for nothing. And besides, if the old man was going to be silent with him, what was the harm with him being silent with the old man?
The trap was sprung. The arrow soared down towards its target. As Daihei prepared another strike, the arrow grazed him across the heel. The moment of broken concentration was all that was needed.
Another arrow fired, this one managed to make it through master Daihei's guard, striking him directly in the chest. The old master reeled back, coughing up blood.
But he did not fall.
After a moment, master Daihei moved to retaliate, sword sailing through the air. Y'hone made an attempt to block the blade with the wood, but Daihei struck at the chipped part of the wood, this time cutting straight through the bow, and then through the man that used it.
The blade carved through the man's torso, sending gouts of blood up from the wound. Y'hone fell to the floor, now coughing up blood himself. The man tried to rise to his feet, but his condition was too severe. Daihei cleaning his blade, turning to make his way back to the table, but he was stopped by his opponent, who called for him.
Daihei answered the man, walking over and kneeling beside him. The man whispered something to master Daihei. Though Omoi could not hear it, he could see something was going one, judging by the king's more rigid posture.
After the man was finished he coughed up one last gout of blood, before going still.
"And the blade has broken through the bow! Quite literally, in this case. Daihei advances to the semi-finals!"
Daihei was much slower to get up and walk to the back than previously, and when he did, he simply walked over to the corner and sat down.
Omoi was tempted to speak to his master but that part of his mind again pulled him from that option.
As the next match went on, Omoi was approached by someone he didn't expect, his next opponent Gryffins. Truth be told, he had considered approaching the man, so it was fortunate that the man was aporoaching him.
"So, you are my next opponent, yes?" Gryffins said drearily.
Omoi had seen Gryffins before, but this was his first time seeing the man face to face. In this he, got a look at how truly disheveled the man was. His shoulder length hair was black and matted, his eye had large bags under them that served to show the weariness of the man that used them. His body was emaciated, some of the shape of his bones visible through his flesh.
"I guess I am." Omoi replied bluntly, "Why do you ask?"
A relaxed smile came to Gryffins face as he stared up at Omoi, "Always like to know my enemy first before I kill them."
"Do you enjoy killing?"
For a moment, the two men stood silent. Omoi could see the gears in the mans head turning, trying to process how to answer a question such as that. He could tell the spindly man was stumped, perhaps for the first time in his life.
Remaining collected, Gryffins rubbed his chin as he responded. "Killing someone is a part of nature here, as vital to survival as food and water. It's not really a matter of enjoying death. I don't enjoy killing anyone, but it doesn't revolt me either. It's just something I have to do to see another day, you know?"
Omoi stood, contemplating what had just been said. "I suppose I do."
"You might, but I take it you have something to fight for. Perhaps the old man curled up in the corner?" Gryffins pryed.
Omoi tensed, "That's not for you to know."
"I play a part in whether you live or die in the next couple of hours, I'd say I'd get at least some right to know."
Omoi slowly grinded his teeth, frustration building, "It's not just the old man. I have people out there, people I care about who I need to save from the chains they have."
"I see. I wouldn't hold out hope." Gryffins replied bluntly.
Omoi's face pulled taut, almost indignant at the man's words. "That's not for you to decide."
"Maybe not," Gryffins responded, stepping closer to Omoi "but being in here is merciful for a slave in these parts."
"And what about you, why do you want to win so bad?" Omoi retorted.
Gryffins eyes fell as he raised his head and sighed deeply, contemplating. There was a moment of silence between the two, a moment that felt like an eternity, before Gryffins finally replied.
"I want to know what it's like to be free."
Omoi stook shocked by his eventual opponents words. He fought to reattain the freedom he had lost, so he could never know the perspective of a man like Gryffins, a man who has never known freedom. He almost pitied the man.
"And an emphatic victory from Norigata! He moves on to the Semi-finals!" The announcement rang out over the stadium, as the man himself made his way back to their position, interrupting his thoughts.
Once back, he simply stood, gazing intently at master Daihei. Omoi took as the man trying to size his master up, as they would inevitably be fighting next round. The man did bare some resemblance to the master, with a similarly dour face, as well as a similar complexion, just much younger.
'Perhaps they know each other?" Omoi questioned internally.
He shook the thought from his head, as he turned to the next match, something Gryffins had also done. From the beginning it was obvious to Omoi who was going to win the fight. The Butcher was simply far to mighty for his opponent to match, and his opponent had neither the speed nor agility to compensate.
The big brute toyed with his opponent, daring him to come closer and try to cut him. Once bored of the game, Butcher simply grabbed ahold of his opponent shoulder, before splitting him down the middle with the greatest of ease.
"I guess it's time for us to settle who will be in the semi-finals" Gryffins said casually, as Omoi remained silent.
As Butcher walked to the back, the two men were called up front and sent out. The sun was nearing it's peak as the two men readied themselves, grabbing their preferred weapons before taking their stances.
"And like that, we are on our final matches of the quarter finals. It will be the Dragon's Claw, Omoi battling the Grey Death, Gryffins. Will the dragon be immortalized? Or will death have his head at the edge of the blade?"
Both men tensed, ready for the fight of their lives.
"Let the battle begin!"
Both men darted forward, as Omoi tryed to cleave the man in two, but Gryffins was able dodge the blade, before thrusting his knife forward. Omoi was able to dodge a fatal blow, but the blade still cut across the bridge of his nose. Turning the blade horizontally, Gryffin aimed to slash at his opponents eyes. Omoi, leaned back just barely avoid the attack. In danger of falling, and desperate to gain distance, Omoi palmed his opponent in the chest. Gryffins winced as he was forced back by the blow.
'So that's his type,' Omoi deduced 'fast but frail. I just need to make sure I can hit him, if I can hit him.'
Omoi clutched his sword as he readied himself, 'Can't afford to be careless'.
The battle resumed with Gryffins as the clear aggressor, trying to pressure Omoi as much as possible, mess up his footing and slip inside his guard. On the other hand, Omoi tried to stay strong, waiting for his one oppertunity to neutralise his opponents speed.
It wasn't long before Gryffins began to use his feet alongside his hands. The two weapon came at him from various angles, with the knife trying to cut at joints and any other more vulnerable part, as the spike trying to bury itself into vital point. Omoi was just barely keep up, with the occasional slash of the knife getting through his defenses and drawing blood.
Omoi could endure the hits for now, but that damage built up. What's worse, as Gryffins blow were meant to be fast, not powerful, they did not generate much power to feed off. Omoi had to think of something fast, or else he would end up a sitting duck.
Omoi waited for the right moment carefully watching his opponents pattern. For 4 blows, Gryffins got closer, then woukd use the 5th move to distance himself and begin the process anew. Omoi began to count.
'1, 2, 3, 4', too late, Gryffin was able to distance himself on the 5th move.
'1, 2, 3, 4', too early this time, Gryffins was just early enough to avoid the punch, retaliating with a slash to Omoi's arm.
Omoi breathed in deeply, and focused.
'1', Gryffins moved in with the knife.
'2', Gryffins moved in again, this time with the spike.
'3' Gryffins thrust his knife forward, but Omoi successfully parried the blow.
'4!' Stepping forward, Omoi thrust the pommel of the blade up hard into Gryffins' jaw. The blow almost broke Gryffins jaw as he fell backward.
'Gotcha.' Omoi thought confidently as he pressed forward, ready to end the fight. In the blink of an eye, he is just barely able to defend a fatal blow from the spike, aimed straight for the side of his head.
Gryffin had prepared, dropping the spike to his foot as he moved forward with the knife, drawing Omoi's attention away from the spike. Now, the spike was pierced through his arm, millimetres from his skull.
Using the moment and the loose sand, Gryffins span around and buried his knife into the back of Omoi's knee. The knee buckled as he dropped, his whole leg seered with pain.
"I'm sorry I have to do this" Gryffins said softly, "I'm going to make it painless, I promise."
In a split second, he felt a splitting pain as Gryffins' knee smashed into the side of Omoi's head, before his head began to spin. He struggled to remain conscious as each footstep became deafening. He tried to force himself up, but his body struggled to respond at all. He felt the knife pulled from his leg as the spike was pulled from his arm.
He then felt the slight weight of Gryffins straddling his left side just above his hip. His head was pressed into the sand by the mans hand as the tip of the spike pressed slightly into his skin as Gryffins lined up the killing blow.
As the spike was raised up, Omoi thought peacefully, 'So this is it, I'm sorry mother, I'm sorry Mairi, I'm sorry to everyone."
That's when the voice in it's head pulled itself from the depths of Omoi's mind and grabbed how of his body. His head jerked back violently as the spike missed it's target, scrapping against the bone of the skull.
His body reached up, grabbing Gryffins by the throat. Gryffins slashed at the hand with the knife, but the beast was undetered, tossing his opponent off him.
Gryffins was first up, by clearly shaken, assuming a defensive stance for the first time in this battle. Omoi rose to his feet, but just barely, the pain in his leg excruciating.
'What. Are. You. Doing.' The beast growled deeply
Omoi did not respond.
'You dare consider giving up? After all they've done.' The beast roared indignantly
'I don't have the strength to fight him, I can't get much energy from his attacks.' Omoi
'Then draw from within.'
'How?'Omoi asked frustrated and exasperated.
"Remember what they did to us, to your family, how they laugh at your pain. Use that pain to fuel yourself, fuel their destruction.'
The memories flooded through him, the laughing of the demons as they took everything and burned what was left, the screams of his family as they dragged away, the blood of his father staining the earth. His rage built, and with it the energy began to build within him. It was just like the very first time he entered the arena, only so much more powerful.
He slowly approached his blade and picked it up, letting his opponent experience a moment of tension. He then dashed forward to his opponent, in a downward slash that was just barely avoided.
For the first time in the fight, it was Omoi that took the offensive, and Gryffins struggling to keep up. Everything had been enhanced, his strength, speed, perception, all of it. The blades now looked slow as his opponent was just barely remaining ahead of the blade.
Gryffin's blade thrust forward, stabbing into Omoi's sword hand, but the pain was drowned out by Omoi's fury. Drawing back his fist, he punched Gryffins hard in the chest, sending him sprawling across the floor.
Omoi approached, ready to end the fight. Gryffins leapt to his feet, dashing forward. Omoi swung forward, seemingly trying to cleave Gryffins in two. Gryffins responded jumping up and running atop the blade. Gryffin kicked Omoi hard in the face as he leapt into the air, before tossing the spike at his head.
Omoi stopped his blade mid-swing, before it was turned back around. His arm threatened to tear from the effort, but Omoi held strong, he would see it through, even if it meant the destruction of his body.
A normal blade would have missed Gryffins with how far he had leapt, but the size of Omoi's sword was far greater. The blade smashed into Gryffins, cleaving through the collar bone and slashing the upper chest open.
Gryffins collapsed to the ground him a heap as Omoi sprinted forward. He delivered a kick of his own, pulverising Gryffins' nose, before stepping of Gryffins' arm.
For a moment, both men looked at each other, waiting for the next move, before a look of realizatiob and resignation came over Gryffins. No matter what he tried now, it would be pointless. At best, he could only hope for a draw, and that would do him no good, for he would be dead regardless. Gryffins closed his eyes, awaiting the blow to end his life.
"KILL HIM!" The beast roared in his head.
Omoi's hand shook as he readied the final blow, unsure of himself. He looked up to see the royals, the individual so esteemed in this society. Raising his sword up, he stared at them, and waited expectantly.
"O-oh! It seems that the Dragon's Claw is waiting on the decision of our king! What will his majesty decide. Will Gryffins be spared, or will the sword of judgement come down across his throat?"
The king stood, slowly raising his fist. The crowd roared in anticipation, ready to see the result.
The thumb came out.
And moved up.
"And it seems the Grey death will meet his own death at the hands of the Dragon's claw.
The crowd roared in approval, ready for the killing blow. Slowly, Omoi raised his the blade into the air, point aimed at Gryffins' neck.
The noise was deafening, everyone in the audience bayed for blood. As the crowd cheered, Omoi began to think about those people for the first time. The ones that had created these games to use people like him as entertainment, and the ones that had cheered it all on, unable, or perhaps even unwilling, to listen to the suffering caused.
"Kill him!"
"End it!"
"Do it."
The ceaseless cacophony of noise grew louder as he raised his sword into the air.
'DESTROY HIM!' The beast roared.
The blade came down, crashing hard into the ground just centimetres from Gryffins head.
"No." He said.
"What?" Gryffins and the Beast said, almost in unison.
"I'm not going to do it. Not for them, not anymore."
Gryffins remained silent, staring at him in amazement. Pulling the blade from the ground, Omoi turned to leave. The crowd bwgan to boo, but at this point, he did not care.
'Don't you dare walk away from this fight.' The beast growled
'That's not your decision to make.'
The announcer came out over the crowd. "Well... it seems that Omoi has decided to spare Gryffins... uh, I don't know quite what to make of this. What will our king rule?"
Omoi looked up towards the royals as he walked. The King's face was twisted in a look of fury, the queen with a look of indignation. However, just as he was about to issue a kill order, he was stopped by the prince. Whilst the monarchs were furious at this upjumped slave, their children held a look of curiosity towards him. This, in turn made him curious for a moment as to what they wanted with him. He then returned to his previous train of thought; he didn't care what they thought of him or what they wanted from him.
The king was talked down, and the order given to declare a winner.
"Well, regardless, it seems that our winner is the Dragon's claw, Omoi. He will be advancing to the semi-finals!"