The tournament rules in this backwater neighborhood were simple. Fight until you dropped. Fight until a winner emerged at night.
A winner was then decreed, celebrated, and remembered. A month later, they did it all over again. Fighters could go and fight as many times as they would like, although the cost of silver coins would increase by doing so.
No one was there to tell Dasha—Leon—it was time. The crowd suddenly began to chant his name, and so, it was time to begin.
Dasha approached one of the barrier mages, a hand raised. A gap was created for him to enter and he took his place opposite his opponent. Blaze was a tall, lean man with tattoos of fire snaking up his arms and legs. Bare-footed and in grey chiton robes, his cloak dark green and demonic. Blaze had been beaten only once today due to a surprise attack when his mana was refueling.
But now, he was in the zone.
