What followed was simple. Laughably so, though nobody seemed to find it funny at the time.

It starts with two steps forward, like poetry. 

Next, the tip of the last remaining blade scrapes against his chin.

Lastly, whether it by honorable concession or the symptom of a shattered will,

'Dark Horse' fell to the ground. 

And the deafening silence told us it was over.

. . .

"WELL?" Shouted Cal. "COME ON, THEN! THE SHOW MUST GO ON, SHAN'T IT?" 

. . .

His words were greeted by explosive applause. Not just an explosion of noise, but one of emotion as well. One could taste the excitement, surprise, fear, the rage, the bliss, everything that could possibly be all at once. 

It was utterly intoxicating. I began to truly understand, for perhaps the first time, why people some love sports so much.

It made my head hurt and my stomach churn. I understood why people some can't stand sports at all.

Sis handed me a torn off sheet of paper.

'You should probably get food soon.' The sheet told me to the messy tune of a red crayon.

I couldn't help but chuckle, and I could've sworn I felt my soul rapidly return to my body.

HOLY CRAP, THAT WAS NUTS! WHAT EVEN WAS THAT? ONE SECOND HE'S JUST WALKING UP THERE LIKE A DOOFUS, THE NEXT HE'S A FRIGGIN SAMURAI KNIGHT WARRIOR DUDE OR SOMETHING, OTHER GUY WHOS, LIKE, TWICE HIS SIZE'S SWORD's IN THE AIR, AND I SWEAR HIS EYES WERE GLOWING!

Dang! That was cool!

Whew! I guess it'd certainly take a guy like that to manage a logistical nightmare like this. I know that the skillsets probably aren't related, but there's no way I'm questioning it after moves like that!

I looked over at S, who was... Significantly less wow'd. If anything, he looked almost angry, maybe fearful. That, or he needed to take a crap. It was hard to say. 

"You okay?" I asked this time. I'm beginning to get the feeling he's not just invested in the show. 

"Oh, uh, right. Sorry, just... Thinkin'. 'Bout stuff." S said. 

"That's good." I said kind of unthinkingly. "Uh, I mean, unless it's bad or whatever. But, uh, keep doing it." Hopefully he'll get to thinking about when he's finally going back to Starsford.

"Right."

I'm glad S doesn't mind my bumbling. Though, I'm not certain he was listening this time. 

"The loud guy's taking longer than usual, isn't he?" Sis said.

And, as if on que, "Uh... A-AND IT'S, ER, OVER! I GUESS... CAL WINS! AGAIN! SOMEHOW! WHAT AN UPSET! I'M NOT GONNA LIE FOLKS, WE ARE VERY CONFUSED ABOUT THIS ONE!" 

"I really should've seen that coming." Sis conceded.

"ANYWAYS!" Gregor said with a short cough, "WE'RE MOVING ON! NEXT UP, IT'S ONCE AGAIN ZIGFRIED THE TRUE-ARMED..."

The rest of the round progressed much like the first, though fights were generally quite a bit longer, and everyone, both the contenders and the people in the stands, were clearly more than a little spooked and on edge after that initial upset. But, as Cal said, the show must go on, and go on the show did. 

At one point, once he had calmed down a little, I asked S if he knew anything about Dark Horse, to contextualize things and get me up to speed.

"Right," S began, like he usually does. "I don't really know much, but from what I can remember he used to be some high-ranking knight dude, worked for the king himself or something, but was relieved of his duties after a record of incredible violence and corpse mutilation. Apparently after that he got into some criminal-underworld stuff, and eventually went to prison. Not sure what happened in there, but I guess he mellowed out after a while, and when he got out he got into tournament fighting. He's supposed to have this crazy rough and tough persona whenever he's working, but I've heard he's a pretty nice guy in real life."

"Oh. That's... A lot." I said. Dang. That's one impressive backstory. I wonder if any of it's actually true, or just made up for entertainment? Either way, even after getting his rear handed to him by someone who looks like they're in the midst of a mid-life crisis, he still seems kinda cool.

"Right."

"That sure is a lot of information coming for someone who supposedly doesn't know much." I joked.

"Right, I was thinking the same thing... Ah, now that I think about it, a chick I used to run with was crazy into this stuff. Guess some of their rambling's still in the back of my head somewhere."

"Ah, that makes sense."

. . .

"Uh, w-when you say 'run with' do you mean..? Y'know..."

"Wha?"

"Y-Y'know, like..." I awkwardly put my fingers together. "And stuff..."

"Huh? Oh, right, we did that all the time."

Huh? 'did that?' I-Is he t-talking about- "Eh? Wha- Uh- Eh-" It felt like my face was dunked in molten lava as he said that. W-Why does he look so nostalgic!?

"Yeah... Some nights, we kept doing it way after it got dark, we barely even slept! Good times..."

Eh? Beh?! HHEd... Zzzz... H-He's- I-I-I didn't take him for- 

"Man, those hammers of hers were nuts."

HAMMERS? WHAT KINDA FREAKY CRAP IS HE IN- oh, wait a sec.

"You're talking about fighting, aren't you?" 

"Hm? Yeah, obviously, we used to train together. What were you talking about?"

"Fighting. I was also talking about fighting."

"Hm. Right." He said with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

. . . 

"But you didn't, like, kiss or anything, right?"

"Didn't what?"

"K-kiss."

"Huh?"

"K-kiss?" Is-Is he teasing me?

"Kick?"

"Kiss."

"With an 's'?"

"Yes."

"Right, I've got no clue what you're talking about."

Eh- bu- beh- e- h- d- ho- how- daewdsazdxcv "eh?"

"What's it mean?"

Th-there's now way...

He's... He's serious.

I was so utterly flabbergasted that I forgot about the tournament, and everything else happening around me.

"Y-y'know, it's when 2 people... Their mouths, they... Touch... andssstuffn..."

"Why? That sounds gross."

"I concur. It's very unsanitary." Sis randomly added, which wasn't very helpful. 

"Right."

"I-It's not about that. It's, like, affection and stuff..." 

"Right. Come to think of it, I might've seen something like that before... Eh. Sounds weird."

"It is." Sis said.

"It's- I- Ehehhhh..." I give up.

. . .

Most of the rest of the second round wasn't all that special. It was entertaining, but what I was really looking forward to was seeing the 'big man' himself. I am easily influenced by good marketing. 

Fortunately, the big event was just about to start by the time I returned to the right frame of mind after that absolute doozy of a conversation with S. 

"AAAAAND FOR THE LAST BOUT OF ROUND 2... THAT'S RIGHT, IT'S THE FIGHT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!"

Excited applause and cheering emerged from an eager audience.

"THAT'S RIGHT!!! AAAAAAAAAAAND COOOOOOOMING FROM THE NORTH END, IT'S TALLGRASS LOOOOOOONNNNGGGGCOW!!"

"Tallgrass Longcow?" I uttered aloud in disbelief. That's not the guy, right?

"Right, I know it's stupid, but this guy's supposed to be in the top 5."

"Tallgrass Longcow?"

"Right?"

Emerging from our side of the arena was, thankfully, not the 'big man', but instead a tough looking farmer dude with a big straw hat, HUGE overalls, and a wooden pitchfork, for some reason. I guess he's allowed to have his own special weapon. Whatever.

He turned around the arena as he walked out, as if to show off his brilliant smile and the bit of hay in his teeth. And, in fairness, his smile was brilliant. His mouth was wide as heck, and his teeth were unreasonably white, at least for the time. This guy's just one gimmick after another, isn't he?

"HOWDY!" He shouted at the top of his lungs in a very southern United States-y accent.

He was greeted by equal parts laughter and cheer. Guess everyone loves a good comic relief character.

"And in the south corner," Gregor said, unenthusiastic probably for the sake of comedy, "The undefeated, the man with the perfect record, literally never been hit in his career, yada yada yada, it's the big man himself, Grigor The Eye."

Absolutely MONSTEROUS cheering. And a bit of booing. But, if anything that just speaks to his incredible popularity even more. Dude's got contrarians!

I wonder if the upset at the start of this round made them more or less excited for his appearance? 

"NOW NOW, DON'T GO GETTING HIM CONFUSED WITH ME, FOLKS!" Said Gregor, Not Grigor.  

Half-hearted laughter from the audience. He makes this joke every time, doesn't he?

'Grigor The Eye' walked out with absolutely 0 flare, just a confident strut with his sword at his side. Evidently, he didn't need any flare. The dude had presence. At least, the audience seemed to think so. He looked much like he did on the poster, almost comedically masculine, his hair and eyes seemed to almost glisten beautifully in the light, and he was tastefully big in all the right places. 

Ew. N-not like that. 

Uh, a-anyways, he looked good. Even down to his weird purple shirt, which would have looked tacky on anyone else, he just made work. This is a guy who's nailed presentation. Catface'd like him.

. . . 

He's... He's not Catface, right? No, there's no way. Not even Catface could create a personality with much context.

Probably...

. . .

Gregor sure is taking his sweet time coming back on. What's he- 

Oh, Grigor's doing something.

He leans back, sun dancing upon his face, his head forward dramatically, his eyes narrow, like a hunter waiting for his prey, and he...

Points at the other guy. Just... Points.

Huh. That's kinda weir-

AAAH, HOLY CRAP

OKAY

OKAY

THAT WAS LOUD.

I'm not quite sure why, but, for some reason, the crowd REALLY liked that. I guess that's a thing he does. Weird pre-game ritual or something. Ah. That might've been the loudest these people have been. I say 'might've' because Sis covered my ears soon after they started. 

"Th-thanks, Sis." I said. 

. . .

"Y-you can move your hands now."

She shook her head.

Uh... I looked over at S for assistance!

He was distracted! Dangit! He was looking down into the pit with an odd look on his face. He seemed perplexed, even more so than I was. And his nose was twitching like crazy.

Wonder what that's about.  

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT... NOW... ARE! YOU! READY!" 

Guess I'm gonna be hearing things like this for a while, then.

"AAAAAAALRIGHT! COOOOOONTENDERS!!!! TAKE! UP! ARMS!"

I think this was followed by more cheering as the contestants charged in at each other. 

The fight was... Peculiar. Almost everyone was cheering, and people were excited, but, still... Maybe I just didn't get it, but it struck me as odd.

The 'big man' really didn't throw any attacks. He was just dodging and blocking Tallgrass without end, with minimal movement and incredible timing. The guy's reflexes looked impossible from here. Even I could tell it was impressive. And it's not like Tallgrass was a joke, either, his attacks were fast, aggressive, made with clear intentionality, and I could feel the power behind them. But every feint, every juke, every jab, nothing could break past Grigor. His sword was a wall.

Despite very little actually happening, just watching the flow of it was oddly captivating. Somehow, it looked like... Art. 

But it didn't look like combat.

I... I didn't get it.

There were swords, clashing of blades and adrenaline, probably some grunting, but... It wasn't like anything I'd seen here before. I didn't dislike it by any means, but it was certainly odd. That said, I can see why it's popular. That unmoving cool exterior against the boundless passion of his opponent was nothing short of incredible. 

Speaking of cool and incredible, I looked over at S, who was... Grinning? And laughing? I think he mouthed something, too, but I couldn't hear it.

Huh.

Peculiar indeed.

The fight went on like this for a little over a minute. It sounds short, but it certainly didn't feel short. I would imagine the stamina alone required to pull something like this off would be intense. 

The end was spectacular. I can't help but wonder if Grigor wasn't biding his time for the most stylish finish possible. A feint, a juke, one high, high again, low twice, left, right, left, right A, B, all perfect near misses culminating in a perfect blow aimed directly at Grigor's head,

Elegantly and immediately deflected.

And Grigor's sword scraped the farmers chin, 

and the crowd exploded.

And it remained peculiar still.