Chapter 35 – Tournament (2)
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Marlon stood in front of the warrior, his heart beating heavily in his chest, as the crowd in the stands chanted their anticipation for the fight to begin.

The presenter knew exactly what he was doing and waited a few seconds before turning his gaze to the two fighters who had already assumed a fighting pose. He pulled a red cloth, just like his outfit, from his pocket and waved it in the air with a sadistic smile on his lips.

"When the cloth hits the ground, the fight begins, kid. Be careful, your opponent is already gathering mana in his body. Presumably to launch a technique."

Marlon took note of Loki's warning and felt a great emptiness come over him. Nothing mattered anymore, except the fight. His perception focused on the opponent who was facing him and his eyes narrowed slightly. A cold and cruel smile appeared on his face and his opponent tightened his grip on his weapon upon seeing this, wary.

The presenter, with a well-assumed gesture of rakishness, finally let go of the piece of cloth he was holding between his fingers.

Time seemed to slow down as the red rag swayed back and forth like a dead leaf toward the sandy floor of the arena. Marlon took one last deep breath, raising his sword a little higher as Doleon did the same with his oversized axe.

The young man's muscles were tense as can be, ready to explode, when the rag finally hit the ground, time seeming to freeze for a quarter of a second.

Doleon threw himself forward, not even allowing a quarter of a second to pass since the fight began, a red aura surrounding his body as he covered the distance between him and Marlon.

His axe split the air up and down as he let out a howl and he literally tried to cut Marlon in half, wanting to end the fight as quickly as possible.

But the latter, having kept Loki's warning in mind, had immediately thrown himself to the side to avoid the colossus' strike, and the latter had been unable to do anything to divert the momentum he had given to his blow, planting it in the sand of the Arena and losing a few microseconds at the same time, which left a window of action to the runist.

Marlon retaliated by sweeping the air with his blade in a horizontal strike, aiming at Doleon's legs, but he wasn't a warrior for nothing. Rolling backward to avoid the counter of the runist, he found himself out of reach of the young man and immediately changed his fighting posture.

Now wielding his axe with one hand, he unhooked the dagger he wore at his waist and held it in his second hand. The muscles in his arms were tense and showed under the skin. Marlon realized that he would probably not be able to dodge as he had just done, still surprised that the colossus had managed to dodge the counter he had used.

He would have preferred to eliminate the warrior with his weapon quickly, rather than having to reveal some of his cards to the other opponents who would surely use them to counter him, but remembering what Jacob had told him, he decided to go on a much more violent, more decisive offensive.

Without waiting for Doleon to launch a second attack, Marlon pulled a ready-made scroll from one of the well-placed pockets of his leather armor and injected it with mana to activate it.

He was now familiar with the sensation of energy coming out of his body and into the piece of paper, thanks to the training with Djilany, and as the spell activated, consuming the medium, a ball of flame rose into the air, sizzling and spinning.

With almost no time to spare, it charged towards Marlon's opponent who was wide-eyed at the sight of what was happening. Stiffening up, he prepared to dodge the monster of flames that was coming at him, but it was without counting on the one that was facing him.

Marlon pulled out a second scroll and activated it immediately, watching his mana bar drain to almost half its capacity. A combination of Breath, Race, and Spirit then combined and burned away, surrounding the young man with what appeared to be magical gusts of wind.

This new suit, discovered during his training with the mage, was much more powerful than the one he had discovered in Akranio. It gave him a very high speed for ten minutes, and also allowed him to slightly deflect the blows or projectiles that would reach his flesh.

He summoned the wind itself to protect him and assist him. The system had named this spell [Windy Body] and Marlon was very pleased with the result, even though he had never tested it in a real combat situation.

His [Fire Tracker] spell had now landed on Doleon and the colossus threw himself to the side to dodge the fireball, which still grazed him and exploded on the ground just behind him, causing him to cry out in pain.

The sand crackled and glazed from the heat of the spell, small sheets of glass forming instantly as a small crater formed where the fireball had crashed. The grains of burning sand that did not turn into glass flew into the atmosphere and were thrown like small shrapnel in every direction several dozen meters away.

They rippled the magical barrier that stood between the spectators and the fighters, some of them crashing into the skin of the two opponents, a fleeting sizzle reaching their ears as the fleeting pain resembling oil splatters reached their brains.

The blast threw the warrior a few feet away and even Marlon felt the power of the shockwave resisting him as he lunged forward to give his opponent no respite. He raised his left hand to shield his eyes from the sand while his other hand held his sword firmly and prepared to bring it down on Doleon.

His movements, whose speed was increased tenfold by the wind spell, brought him to the level of his opponent and he brought his sword down with all his strength towards his neck, not thinking and trusting his instinct to deliver the fatal blow.

Only, Doleon had seen and participated in many battles, and his instincts were not outdone by the young man's. He had raised his axe with both hands, ignoring the searing pain that came from his left side where the flesh had melted under the effect of Marlon's spell, and countered in extremis the young man's attempt at decapitation.

He was angry at himself for underestimating the runist, for he was now seriously injured and his chances of victory were greatly diminished. With a grunt, he pushed Marlon back with all his strength and he was thrown back two meters, his feet digging into the sand without losing his balance before his body stopped.

Doleon was truly a force to be reckoned with, but it wasn't enough to deter the young fighter, so he gritted his teeth and charged forward, relying on the speed of [Windy Body] to overwhelm his opponent's defenses.

What followed was a memorable showdown, where Marlon put to good use every lesson Jacob had taught him, every hard-won lesson he had learned during his quest in Cronande.

Not for a moment did he stand still, his feet dancing in the hot sand without interruption, his sword coming down again and again on the colossus who had straightened up and parried his every blow. Sparks flew from their weapons with each clash, the shrill sound of metal rubbing against metal rising in the arena as the excitement of facing a worthy opponent gleamed in the eyes of both fighters.

Had it not been for the large burn on the side of his body, Doleon would have surely dominated Marlon, but Marlon had managed to handicap him greatly.

After a few minutes of this dance of blades, the warrior decided to turn the tables and take a risk, activating one of his previously unused abilities.

He jumped back to get away from Marlon's attacks for a quarter of a second and used [Warrior's Way].

Immediately, his body glowed with a silver color, and a mist of the same color escaped from Doleon's mouth. His muscles contracted and it was as if they had grown a quarter of their size.

This skill increased a warrior's strength, speed, and endurance by thirty percent, but it only lasted two minutes, and at the end of his skill he would be weakened by as much as the buff provided. His life would be reduced to fifty percent of the total amount, which was a high price to pay, but worth it according to the warrior.

His mana had been devoured by the use of what he considered his trump card, and it was an excited smile that hung on his face as he threw himself against Marlon, an axe raised high above his head.

The warrior then infused his weapon with an axe-user specific skill, [Cutting], and his weapon glowed with a bluish color, a sense of immediate threat overtaking the young man.

"Marlon, parry! This attack will cut you up, it's infused with mana!"

Loki could indeed see the mana flows and had detected this attack at the fortuitous moment.

The warning forced the young man to parry, and Doleon's increased power caused him to bend his legs, his arms vibrating under the impact and struggling to absorb all of it, his bones vibrating painfully under the impact.

Despite his counter, the axe blade sank into his shoulder a few inches, causing Marlon to cry out in pain and do his best not to let it sink in any further. If he hadn't had his spell active, the axe would probably have plunged much further into his body.

He immediately kicked Doleon's right knee, who didn't even flinch under the impact, beginning to deliver bumper after bumper in Marlon's defense, which was weakening more and more. His blade was now full of chips caused by the repeated shocks, and he feared that it would totally give way to the incessant assaults of his opponent.

To give himself some breathing room, he retreated a few feet, his spell still active allowing him to gain time and catch his breath, even if it was only a few seconds.

Marlon pulled another scroll from his pocket and activated it, draining his mana bar to a quarter of its maximum capacity. He decided to stick with the strategy he had decided to follow and cast a [Fire Tracker] again, this time hoping to hurt Doleon more severely.

Unfortunately, it was a critical failure. His abilities augmented by his warrior skill allowed Doleon to perfectly dodge the flaming projectile that came crashing down behind him without being able to hit him. Without interruption, the giant jumped on Marlon and made it look like yet another axe strike.

The young man raised his sword to counter but was surprised by the giant who abandoned his attack at the last moment, dropping his axe completely to come and strike violently with his bare hands the floating ribs of Marlon, passing under his guard and crushing his fist with violence.

[Giant's Strike] was a barehanded attack that didn't cost mana, but life and Doleon willingly sacrificed a part of his life to successfully land this blow, which was inevitably a critical strike. He encountered some resistance due to Marlon's wind armor, but he passed without too much trouble, the power of his raw skill being a big part of it.

Marlon's ribs broke immediately, the air was forced out of his lungs and he was thrown a few feet away, coughing as he desperately tried to catch his breath and spitting blood onto the now stained sand of the Arena.

The cheers from the crowd were loud and immediate as Doleon bent down and picked up his axe, eager to finish off his opponent before he recovered.

The young Runist would undoubtedly have died if he had not had the protection of his spell, and he crawled back onto the sand, his mind pondering a solution.

Several ribs were broken, one or two organs were probably out of commission, and his lungs were punctured by the amount of blood that poured out of his body with each coughing fit. He had to heal himself, and inwardly he gave up the resolution not to reveal certain spells until he was further along in the tournament.

He had underestimated his enemy, and he would die if he did nothing, with Doleopn only two steps away. But he looked tired...slower. The silvery color that had come off him moments before had faded and finally disappeared completely, and Marlon hastily pulled out a scroll he had kept in one of his pockets in case he was injured like this during his fight, [Life Steal].

He had strengthened his spell with the knowledge he had gained from Djilany, adding a rune of Breath to turn the simple vampiric mist into a full-blown murderous gust.

The scroll burned and Doleon leaped at Marlon as the wind picked up and formed a reddish gust that surrounded the warrior's body as it came down on the young man, who made a superhuman effort to roll to the side and avoid the axe that came down just millimeters from his skull.

Doleon breathed in the red wind and palpable anxiety took hold of him as his hands dropped the axe from the sand and went to his throat, a cry of shock and pain coming from his mouth.

The scream grew louder as the last of the wind rushed through his body and he fell to his knees, his hands now reaching for something in his throat, scratching the skin until it bled as his muscles seemed to collapse in on themselves.

His skin cracked, drying like parchment in the sun, and at the same time Marlon felt the pain in his own body disappear as all the warrior's vitality was transferred to him.

Doleon's scream had turned into a bloody borborygmus and it was with a look of incomprehension that he fell to his knees, while the young man stood up, grabbing his sword that lay on the ground, wiping with one hand the blood that had flowed down his mouth.

He had not expected his life flight to weaken the warrior so much, but the spell that had covered him with a silver color must have had a backlash allowing his spell to be so effective.

Advancing towards the giant, Marlon saw that the latter was unhooking from his belt a transparent flask that seemed to contain a red liquid that could not be anything other than a healing potion.

With his [Windy Body] still active, Marlon rushed at him and with a precise gesture sliced the hand that carried the flask, tearing off another cry of pain from the mummy that was now his opponent.

He kicked his opponent's severed limb away from him, desperate to prevent Doleon from regaining his strength, and without waiting he struck another sword blow, this one to the neck of the withered giant.

The latter still had the strength to raise his arm to defend his neck, thus sacrificing his last hand to save his life. Convulsing, the severed hand moved by itself on the burning floor of the arena while the whole crowd seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome of this superb fight that had given them so much emotion.

As Marlon raised his sword to finish off his opponent, he heard a whisper come from his parched mouth and reach his ears.

-I'm going to...

The smile of excitement on Marlon's lips turned sadistic and his eyes became even colder than before.

He did not lower his blade and brought it down hard on the back of Doleon's neck. It went into his flesh like butter and went all the way through until it came out in the open, Doleon's head falling and bouncing limply on the ground.

A geyser of blood spurted from the decapitated body and drenched the sand around the warrior as well as Marlon, who felt a deep sense of accomplishment inside, closing his eyes to enjoy the bloody rain that was synonymous with victory for him.

It lasted a few seconds, and when he opened his eyes again, the crowd in the stands was roaring with contentment, a tidal wave of sound that took him by storm and made his eyes widen. He had never felt this before, this celebratory side to public fights and their victory.

It was his fight, but he felt an even greater joy at the crowd's contentment. Not that he cared, but he appreciated the novelty of the feeling.

No rune rose from Doleon's body, and Marlon felt a small pang of disappointment, hoping that the next one would be the right one...

The red-clad man was walking towards him, having left the protection of the magical barrier and looking at Marlon with now a slight hint of distrust in his eyes. When he addressed him, it was in an unamplified voice and with thunder in his voice.

"This is the first and last time I'm warning you. Doleon had surrendered, you had no right to finish him off. From my referee's box, I can hear every word, every whisper. Do something like that again, and even if the audience is on your side, you'll be out, got it?"

The demented grin that hadn't left Marlon's face as he nodded to the announcer made a bead of sweat run down his back and he turned to the crowd, willfully ignoring the bloodied runist who looked more like a demon than a human next to him.

"Gentlemen and ladies, here is an opening fight that can be described as exciting! We were not bored for a single minute! Unfortunately for Doleon, who was the betting favorite on this fight, he was not incisive enough and got decapitated by our dear Outsider, I named Revenge, the Runist! A thunder of applause for our fighter who will now go to rest. He has earned it!"

A healer arrived at Marlon's level and activated a healing spell on the runist to finish healing the few bruises and cracked bones that had not been healed by the [Flight of Life] spell.

Marlon then headed backstage as the audience erupted in raucous applause and excited cheers whose meaning did not reach the young man.

"Very nice fight, kid. You didn't even need my help, haha! But next time, don't play with your opponent. Just kill him quickly, otherwise you'll have a nasty surprise one of these days."

Once through the door, he found Jacob waiting for him with a big smile and the rest of the fighters who were now glancing at him much more calculatingly than when they first met.

Everyone had watched the fight through a very wide slit placed halfway up the door, and they had all given Doleon the win, except Jacob of course. Seeing that Marlon had done more than well, they had raised his threat level

"Good fight, Revenge! I thought you were going to go down at one point, but that's a hell of a spell you pulled out of your hat for us!"

By saying this, Jacob had put a big friendly slap on the back of the young man who almost gave up his lungs under the impact.

They waited a few minutes for the draw that determined the next fight. Two more people were drawn, a short but stocky-looking man with chakram-like weapons on his back and a woman with a two-meter spear stuck in the ground at her side.

Marlon, relieved that his name didn't come up, huffed and walked with Jacob to his break room.

"I had a basin of water carried to your room. Wash up, get some rest, I'll come to get you when your name comes up, okay?"

He nodded, returning to the room where Luna was wisely waiting. A few moments of rest before having to return to the fight. He was exhausted, but he was eager to cross swords again, to feel the bloody euphoria he had just bathed in. The danger, the uncertainty, this dance on the edge.

There is nothing like bloodshed to excommunicate one's inner demons...

 

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