The opening ceremonies had come to a close when Sumitsu returned to join Goji and Naroki. She assured them that the girl who "copied" her was just a misunderstanding and that everything was fine.
Goji accepted her word without question, but Naroki was skeptical. She had started hiding things from the two of them right after her return from the Avatars' Council. Sure, she had her secrets and sacred oaths, but this was too dismissive. He figured the stress on her was causing her to act so nervous, so he decided to let it be for now.
The first round of the tournament followed immediately after the end of the opening ceremonies.
A knight in full plate armor and wielding a massive sword entered the arena. Spectators cheered. He ascended the stairs to the stage to stand on one side of the center ring. Kyou heralded his titles and achievements from behind the Judge's Bench. It was an impressive list.
Satori entered through a porthole on the opposite side of the Colosseum's arena. She was tall and graceful. Her face was hidden behind a ceremonial panther mask. She held her magical glaive in her right hand, using it like a walking stick. She waited until Kyou began listing her achievements before moving. She slowly walked toward the stage, ascended the stairs, and took her place on her side of the ring. Even though she was walking slowly, Kyou kept listing her accomplishments for another half a minute before finally announcing her name.
The audience roared even louder.
The competitors bowed to each other.
Kyou took her seat among the other judges.
Everyone watched with bated breath.
The starting bell rang.
Satori was already on the other side of the ring. Her opponent's helmeted head flew from his shoulders, away from the stage, and landed in the sand and gravel surrounding the stage. In less than one second after the starting bell, Satori had decapitated her opponent with a single strike.
The entire Colosseum fell silent in an instant. Goji, Sumitsu, and Naroki stared, their faces aghast. Satori stood up straight and bowed to Kyou and the other judges.
"The winner, by deathblow— Satori Yoshi of Tapferkeit," Kyou announced.
Then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, the crowd roared back to life, enthralled by the blood sport they had come to see.
But the trio didn't join the rest of the spectators in cheering. Goji and Naroki felt the icy grip of death for the first time. It wasn't just hypothetical anymore; it was tangible, undeniable. They both turned to Sumitsu, who was pale as a sheet, and each of them took one of her hands and squeezed it. She, in turn, took comfort from their gesture, knowing they would be more cautious now.
The following day, the tournament began in earnest.
Sumitsu sat quietly, her heart pounding beneath her composed exterior. On her right, Goji was caught up in the excitement, cheering loudly with the enthusiastic crowd, his laughter ringing out like music. To her left, Naroki's gaze was sharp and steady; he watched the scene carefully, his worried glances toward her growing less frequent as the atmosphere became more energetic. Despite the lively chaos around her, Sumitsu felt a swirl of emotions—excitement for the event and nerves for her beloved boys.
The first fight they saw between Satori and the armored knight was definitely quick and fierce. Later matches were less intense. Ring-outs and knockouts became the usual outcomes. Sumitsu noted that, in fact, there were no additional fatalities. Yet.
There was a sense of showmanship and camaraderie among the competitors. Their taunts and posturing were lighthearted and lacked real malice. This realization helped to calm Sumitsu's nerves somewhat.
"If I am reading this right, I'm up in another five fights," Naroki said to Sumitsu, conversationally.
"You're not reading that right," Goji said, somewhat tauntingly.
Naroki and Sumitsu glanced at Goji, neither one amused.
"Be serious," Naroki berated his friend. "Now is not the time for jokes."
"No joke," Goji changed his tone, realizing he had not sounded serious before. "You're next."
Sumitsu placed a hand on Naroki's shoulder, in part to sooth him, but also to comfort and ground herself in that moment.
Naroki's face paled. He hadn't taken the time he thought he would need to prepare mentally. His mind raced with everything he planned to do to prepare for his first fight. Perhaps that was for the best, since he was far likelier to psych himself out instead of building himself up. Then again, perhaps not.
Naroki had no time to meditate or focus. He rushed through his preparation time. He put on his ceremonial combat gear and gripped the katana he had trained with for half his young life.
He took a moment to compose himself just behind the porthole entrance. Once his nerves were under control, and his name was called, he emerged from the porthole onto the sandy Colosseum floor. He walked with a practiced stride that helped him start to feel the confidence he was projecting. The deafening roar of the crowd filled his senses.
When he ascended the steps to the stone dais with the ring painted on it, his opponent slowly came into view. Across from him stood the shark-headed Templar from Caitar, whom he had seen on the tram earlier. Naroki was visibly intimidated by this adversary.
"I have been salivating at the thought of fighting you, boy." The shark-man's voice was as gravelly and intimidating. It was just as Naroki imagined it would be. The rows of razor-sharp teeth in the creature's broad grin glinted in the afternoon sun.
Naroki took a deep breath, drew his blade, glanced at the judges, and nodded, indicating he was ready to go. However, all his survival instincts were screaming at him to do the opposite. Running away was his best chance at surviving this fight. He readjusted his grip on the hilt of his blade. The starting bell rang.
Seemingly, as soon as it began, the fight was over. Naroki stood still, wavering on his feet. Did I lose? He wondered to himself. What happened?
Naroki surveyed the scene around him. The shark-man lay outside the marked ring, battered and breathing heavily. Naroki noticed that his own face and blade were splattered with small amounts of blood. He watched as Kyou, the elf in the rainbow uniform, approached the stage, grabbed his wrist, and raised his fist high into the air, just as she had done for the winners in each previous match.
Naroki had won.
Kyou's voice was heard throughout the Colosseum, declaring Naroki of Solaris the victor. Standing in the shade of a porthole, Satori made eye contact with Kyou, and they wordlessly confirmed that this was one of the two boys they needed to keep an eye on.
Alone in his private room, Naroki reflected on what had happened. He saw the outcome as if he were an outsider. He cleared his mind and practiced the meditations he wished he had done earlier.
His mind processed the events slowly, as if he were gradually remembering a forgotten dream.
The shark-man charged him the moment the bell rang. Something inside Naroki shifted. He sidestepped the charging creature and parried its teeth with the flat side of his blade. The shark-man went from shocked to delighted in quick succession. The grin on his face told Naroki that he would enjoy this fight.
There was a rapid flurry of blows. Strikes and parries echoed through the arena. Naroki's entire life had been dedicated to training for this moment; now his subconscious took control. It was all pure reflex, pure muscle memory. He was gentle with his blade. He had never taken a life in all his training; he wouldn't start here.
Exhausted, furious, and humiliated by Naroki's behavior, the shark-man misinterpreted the swordsman's gentleness as infantilization. He lashed out. He was off balance—bad move.
Naroki dove low under the charging opponent and expertly redirected the shark-man's energy to launch him bodily out of the ring. In that moment, time sped back up.
The ethereal, dreamlike memories finished playing in his mind. The crowd had erupted into cheers for him. He was moving on to the next round. He promised himself he would be more prepared next time.
He meticulously polished his sword, carefully removing any trace of battle from his blade. Each piece of his armor was treated with equal attention, the leather and metal glistening as he wiped away the remnants of dirt and grime.
He stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over him, washing away the sweat and fatigue from his fight. Once refreshed, he dressed in his spectator attire and secured his gear for the next fight.
Goji, brimming with excitement, praised and congratulated Naroki relentlessly. He couldn't stop gushing about how amazing Naroki's form was during his bout.
Meanwhile, Sumitsu smiled her quiet little smile, which Naroki took as his reward. He smiled back, and a weight on his heart was lifted.
After their enthusiastic exchange, Naroki attempted to sound serious and asked, "Okay, Goji, how am I reading this schedule wrong?"
"I would love to take the time to explain it to you, but it's my turn to kick butt," Goji grinned a stupidly wide grin before leaving Naroki speechless.
Goji bounced happily into the arena and onto the stage. He was finally going to fight, finally getting to do what he came here for. Never before had he been this excited about something he was looking forward to so much.
Alone on the stage, he listened as the elf judge in rainbow robes announced him to the crowd. The cheers were lackluster at best. He had higher hopes. He didn't spend any time thinking that, as an unknown rookie Templar, it would be entirely expected for him to have zero fans.
He was determined to change that from that day forward.
The elf judge began announcing his opponent. He didn't pay any attention to all the titles, honors, and achievements she listed, but boy, was it taking a while for her to finish. Once she had finished and announced the name of Goji's opponent, the audience roared. He would steal those cheers for himself, or so he told himself.
Then everything went quiet. Too quiet. Goji looked around, confused. Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet trembled. Then again. And again. There was a distant thump… thump… thump that slowly crescendoed, matching the tremors. The source of the physical disturbance was a creature that Goji had never seen before—a walking, talking, fighting Tree man.
Goji looked over his opponent, capturing every detail as it slowly ascended the stairs to the stage. It was tree-like in every sense of the word—two arms, two legs, humanoid, bipedal locomotion. Branches and leaves sticking out in odd places. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be wearing some form of armor made of bark, with glowing green light emanating from its crevices. Green. This was a creature from Sagesse, the planet of wisdom and forest creatures. Whether this was a magical tree mecha piloted by some gnome, or was itself a magical forest creature like an ent or a dryad, Goji didn't know. But he figured he could punch it until he found out.
The bell rang. The fight began.
Goji didn't know what hit him. He found himself suddenly unable to move about as he wanted. He looked down and saw two shafts of unrefined wood pinning his feet to the stone stage. They didn't grow from the ground. They were shot at him from above. This tree-thing had projectiles.
Cool.
Goji's shoes ripped off his feet as he leaped over the creature's massive arm, which swung at him with a powerful blow. "Ehehehehehehe…," he emitted unrestrainedly as he landed on the arm and ran up to its shoulder. He intentionally leaped off its shoulder and tumbled away behind it as it struck its own shoulder to try to hit him.
Goji held his ground, mentally timing how long it took for this lumbering piece of lumber to turn around. Before the thing turned around, it forced Goji to quickly perform three consecutive back-flips to dodge the incoming shards of wood. He had barely caught sight of them.
The creature didn't turn to face him; instead, the individual wood pieces shifted and reassembled, now facing him directly. This wasn't armor; it was a collection of separate wood segments floating and fitting together like puzzle pieces, with the green magic holding it all together.
So cool.
Goji decided it was time to test this creature's defensive abilities. He charged and feigned at the last second to avoid the creature's grip. He passed between its legs and targeted a knee. He threw a punch. The creature summoned its Spirit Rings to form a shield between Goji's fist and its knee. Goji was curious what would happen when he punched it.
FLASH!
From behind the Judge's Bench, Kyou watched as the creature's green glow flashed brightly, then vanished entirely. Then, in horror, she watched as the collection of timber suspended in the air collectively surrendered to gravity, crashing down directly onto Goji.
She frantically scrambled up the stairs to the stage and climbed over the remains of her fellow Sagessen Templar to unearth Goji. Who was now unconscious, but breathing. She grabbed him by the wrist, hoisted him out of the pile, and presented his unconscious form to the stunned audience.
"The winner, by total knockout… Goji of Solaris." It was less an announcement and more of a statement that she herself struggled to believe.
She shot a glance of utter confusion at Satori, who was just as baffled as she. Neither could truly explain what just happened.
Goji sat still as his head and feet were bandaged. He was dazed and confused. The elves who tended to him were sweet and caring, making sure to remove any splinters from his wounds before bandaging him up completely.
Naroki and Sumitsu waited outside the nurses' station while Goji was treated. They patiently waited for their turn to explain to him how his fist managed to connect with the Tree-man's knee, which caused the whole creature to stop glowing and subsequently collapse in a heap directly on top of Goji.
Adjacent to Goji, his opponent was being reassembled piece by piece. It turned out to be a Dryad Templar, a being of magic that uses wood to shape itself. So once it regained consciousness and resumed glowing, it could hold onto the individual pieces of wood to reform itself.
Upon hearing the news of how the match ended, Goji pouted. Sure, he won, but it wasn't cool, and it was over way too quickly. Hopefully, next time he won't win in a single punch. He got up to leave the nurse's station and had to promptly sidestep a wheelbarrow full of the next load of the dryad's wood.
The trio walked back to the stands to watch the remaining bouts for the day. Rather than cheers of a triumphant hero, people gave Goji a wide berth, which he did not like one bit.