"Now, lower the gates!"
As the Ascended's voice echoed across the Pristine Colosseum, the gates rattled and lowered. Specifically, the gates of the two gladiators chosen for round one. When the gates clanked against the bottom and vanished entirely from view, two figures stepped out. One of which was a man of great height with large purple eyebags, and the other was...
'Is that a...'
The other figure seemed to be a centaur, and possibly a Nightmare Creature. Aeona narrowed her eyes at it and deciphered a few things.
First of all, this was a tournament battle between not only humans, but other species or abominations as well. This meant that her matches would likely not be so simple. This also meant that the matches would likely be one sided most of the time.
All she could hope was that she didn't fall onto the wrong side.
Although she did receive combat training and survival training as a woman under the care of two carriers of the Spell, she wasn't well versed in actual intellectual confrontation. All she could do was formulate a plan, so she took ganders across her station.
"As you can see! This will be a fight between the infamous Western Centaur and South-Eastern Bandit, while the bandit is quite unknown, the Western Centaur is clearly the matches favorite with feats such as: Murdering a city of children..."
'What the fu—'
"...Beating the Glad-Marked Dragoon in a one on one before their popularity, triumphing against the forces of poison, and drowning in the blood of any opponent it has ever faced!
"Will we, today, witness the rematch between this famed centaur and the glorious dragoon, or perhaps one of the two will fall in their first battle!? Well, only time will tell. Sit well, because this round will begin on the count of three!"
The entire stadium suddenly grew quiet, and Aeona's blood ran cold, but she ignored it and continued to seek her surroundings.
"One...
"Two...
"Three!"
Aeona smirked and noticed that her clothing was old and unfit for battle, but that fact was exactly why it held pockets. She had a plan, but it could only be used as a last resort only achievable through pure luck.
Finishing her preparations, she walked up to the gate and grabbed the bars with her hand before paying close attention to the battle ahead.
The centaur stood still, side stepping and assessing the bandit with a razor-sharp glance, while the bandit lowered himself closer to the floor, clearly steering clear of the centaur's human arms. Noticing this, the centaur switched positions into a more defensive combat style, made specifically for counter attacks.
Neither made the first move...
...Until the bandit made a terrible decision.
Running towards the centaur's core, the bandit must have noticed the size difference, hoping to somehow reach a blind spot. Unfortunately, when he feigned a left dodge, the centaur failed to react and stood completely still.
After all, what was the point in dodging or blocking when the best a mere human with fists could do was punch? A strike from a malnourished bandit would never hurt such renowned warrior such as the Western Centaur.
The bandit struck the horse in the chest, and—noticing his unfortunate predicament—attempted a back step to avoid the centaur's radius of attack. Unfortunately, this flee only fed into the opponent's charge, landing him with a headbutt to the solar plexus and a few seconds of airtime.
While the fight hadn't quite ended, the bandit could hardly breath. Even if he could, he wasn't the smartest attacker, nor was his opponent stupid, so he hardly had a chance to begin with.
Maybe if the poor bandit had time for preparation, he'd at least deal some damage, but in the first round of the tournament, the only thing he was met with was a stomp from a heavy-hitting centaur.
His skull was fractured and the brain behind was shifted to mush.
The winner was number one, the Western Centaur.
"What a one-sided match! The favorite has emerged victorious while the underdog seizes to breath! One must wonder how the Glad-Marked Dragoon feels about this fight!"
As for how Aeona felt, her expression remained the same, she had quite the background for emotional control after all.
'The Ascended spoke about number one as if it were the strongest gladiator in the colosseum, which gives me a good gauge as to how powerful the skill range could be. Some might be named fighters, while some might be unknown alike the bandit. I should listen to the man's words as my match approaches, then I can scale how difficult it will be.'
The centaur trotted back to its station, and the Ascended ordered for the gates to close once again. This time, he took a moment before speaking, letting the crowed banter with themselves. Some people lost bets in which they voted for the underdog, while some won thousands of whatever currencies they used.
As the spectators naturally reached a quieter tone, the Master stood atop the podium once again.
"As per the colosseums rules, the Western Centaur will be moved to the quarter-finals!
"Now, for round two of this tournament, we will have number three battling number four!
"Both fighters aren't quite known to the crowd, but you will certainly be surprised when you see their figures!"
The speaking drowned out in Aeona's mind as she tilted her head. The body of the Bandit was still dead in the center, and nobody genuinely checked to see if the man was dead. Obviously, he was, as his skull caved in, but surely, they had to check as per rules, no? Regardless, why leave the body on the battlefield, are they insinuating other fighters to avoid it like an obstacle?
No.
This was an incentive to use the bodies in order to win fights, but the gladiators aren't smart enough to realize, and the strong might be too prideful to use them to their advantage. While it was an assumption with only one fight worth of backing, it was one she could continuously put to the test as she watched over the next three skirmishes.
"Lower the gates!" The Ascended's voice echoed as the gates descended for the next two challengers.
'Wait...' Aeona scratched her cheeks with her nails. 'From what I have read about First Nightmares, the Spell will give an evaluation depending on the way you survive, that means that there are obviously better or worse ways to live through it.'
"Three...
"Two...
"One..!"
The battle between a short, nimble imp and a strong meaty soldier commenced.
'That means that winning the tournament isn't the only ending, only that it is the most obvious and will likely give the worst evaluation.'
The imp took a tall leap before landing and beginning a slide beneath the soldier's legs. As it continued through, it raised its hand and used its fist to punch the man's genitalia. Unfortunately, the man simply stood on his toes rather than flat-footed and narrowly avoided the blow.
'Quick, think, other ways... I could try to climb the wall and escape, but the Ascended wouldn't let me. I need to use resources from within.'
Then, Aeona got chills. Chills which were disrupted by a sudden pound.
"Number three has come out on top! A battle between Short and Tall has come to an end! Tall with an outstanding win, slamming the imp's head into the gravelly wood with mighty force! Such a force that could potentially send somebody straight out of the arena! How do you feel about such a win, folks!?"
'Mighty force that could...'
A grin from ear to ear expressed on Aeona's face as she continued her thought process, thinking of as much as possible in this short amount of...
...time.
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