Chapter 5: The Moment Before a Fight
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Hello there, everyone :)

For the first month, I'll be publishing one chapter per day (sometimes two) so you can immerse yourself in the story. Afterwards, I will create a publishing schedule of probably three to four chapters a week.

So, enjoy the chapter and read on!

 

Chapter 5

The Moment Before a Fight

 

Night came to Hari as a cursed whisper. A ghastly harbinger of a problematic possibility. Really problematic. Aside from the fight, she still had to worry about what the kids would eat at the end of the night. Not to mention, Norell hadn’t woken up since this afternoon. If he had really died this time, Hari would have a heart attack.

The cold brought the worst thoughts to the surface. Would the Immortal really come? Would Hyperia protect them once more? Would she be strong enough to escape and survive? Or should she run away like she did in the past?

Not this time.

Running away always seemed like a tempting option, but Hari wouldn’t forgive herself if she abandoned them all. She hugged herself as she descended the long stone staircase that led to the Pit. The secret entrance rest inside a smelly tavern on the outskirts of town. Hari knew that wasn’t the only entrance, though. The sponsors and the audience came in from somewhere else. But this was the passage she knew.

Of course, she would love not to have to go through that cramped, damp hallway every time she went to fight, but strangely it brought her some comfort. An unsettling comfort stemming from the familiarity this path provided. Which only confirmed Hari’s own theory about her being needy. Heavens, she felt at home with bats. If that wasn’t a lack of something, what else would it be?

Hari touched the rough wall, feeling the chill of the concrete, and took a slow breath. She never got nervous before a fight, not after so long. But today was different. Hari felt her stomach turn and her skin itch. A sickening sensation accompanied her every step.

This fight wasn’t just for her, it was for all the orphans in Alcove.

Hari had decided that she would run away with some orphans after today’s fight. For that, she needed to win. She’d put all her savings in a bet on herself. A desperate gamble that, if successful, would bring her some money. And she would need a lot of coins if she wanted to get out of there with everyone.

All bets were against her. Everyone believed in Gojo.

Hari walked to the separate space reserved for the fighters. A small room next to the Pit arena. She found Gojo sitting cross-legged and eyes closed. He seemed concentrated in some sort of meditation. Gojo exuded a resolute calm that made Hari want to throw up. Looking at him was like facing a terrible enemy so big he didn’t even know she existed.

Yet now, Hari’s world revolved around him.

“Wancheng Hari?” Gojo said, opening his eyes. He had a tone too calm for someone his age. Teenagers were very agitated.

The sudden question startled Hari, but she answered right away. She nodded. “And you must be Gojo?” she said, noting that she didn’t know if he had a surname or a clan name. Some people hid their origins, out of shame or pride, so Hari decided not to ask.

Gojo smiled. “I’m sure you know who I am. The newest attraction in the Pit. The wonder boy.” he said in a conceited tone.

Oh, so he was one of those proud bastards.

Good, more reasons to punch your face.

“You’re definitely right. Everyone is talking about you.” she went on, giving him some of the ego boost he craved. Hari rarely talked to her opponents much before a fight. Some fighters did this to weaken mentally their opponent, or even to create sudden friendships. But that never lasted when their blood spread across the Pit arena.

“What can I do? Master Fushi even said that I am the best fighter of the last decade.” He pointed to himself with every word.

Hari mentally sighed, but kept a friendly smile on the outside. Captain Fushi must have brought Gojo to the Pit just to annoy her. He was everything she hated most in a fighter. Too talented for his own good. Despite the obvious presumption, he was still wrong. Gojo wasn’t the best fighter of the last decade. Her sister was. After the Immortal’s attack on Guinam—eleven years ago, both Alin and Hari became war orphans, bought by the Fist Maker soon after it.

They trained together for years, but Alin had a talent for fighting that Hari didn’t. When Alin entered the Pit, Hari could feel the crowd’s atmosphere change. Alin displayed a presence completely unlike any fighter Hari had ever seen. She was a true prodigy. Even so, three years ago, Alin simply disappeared without saying a word. She just left a note that said ‘sorry’.

But Hari didn’t want to lower Gojo’s ego, so she wouldn’t say anything about Alin. The more Gojo overestimated himself, the better for her. “I heard maybe you are the best fighter that has ever emerged in the Pit's history. I hope the rumors are true.”

Gojo’s cheeks turned red. “You see…” he chuckled. “I really am exceptional. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” he approached, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I hear you can be a little violent, but I’ll go easy on you. Master Fushi told me everything. Consider it a courtesy, from one fighter to the next.”

Hari felt her blood boil, but she would save her energy for the Pit. He really only saw her as a ladder, a promotion for the new brand, Gojo. “Don’t spare yourself. They are here to see an excellent fight.” She said.

“They are here to see me. So it doesn’t matter. Just don’t resist too much. When they see I can defeat you as fast as they can say good heavens, they’ll go wild.”

Gojo continued to talk about himself, and Hari kept an impassive expression through all of it. He told of how he fled Rarik’s borders alone and survived the Salt Hollow by drinking rainwater and feeding on the remains of beasts. Hari didn’t know if she believed him, but the possibility that he had actually suckled on a monster’s tit fascinated her.

When Hari was no longer paying attention to Gojo’s sporadic stories, he walked away, returning to a meditative position. With Gojo busy, Hari took the moment to prepare as well.

She donned a sleeveless black robe and tailored pants. They weren’t the best clothes in the world, but they gave her enough mobility during an intense fight. The next step was to wrap her hands. Sometimes, fights could become violent to the extreme. So breaking hands were common occurrences.

In Hari’s case, she broke her hands so many times she didn’t even feel pain anymore. After finishing the preparation, Hari sat down to meditate as well. She could already hear the crowd outside, screaming Gojo’s name. Apace, she closed herself off from the outside world, concentrating on the sound of her breathing, the flow of her blood, and the sweat that crept across her skin.

Meditation allowed Hari to focus her urge for combat, allowed her to target and control her emotions. Today, that target was Gojo. Today, Hari was more anxious than ever.

For an indefinite time, Hari became one with herself, breathing just like Alin had taught her. She could hear her heartbeat pulsing and the fighting flame that burned inside her, crackling, desiring combat.

Her meditation was only interrupted when she heard the bell outside, announcing that the fight would begin. Gojo was already on his feet. He smiled at her before stepping out of the room. Hari took a good look at the place one last time. She tightened her wraps, pinned her hair, and walked to the arena.

 


 

The Pit was packed as never. Rarely had Hari witnessed a fight that had attracted so many people. For sure, none of her fights were so expected. But Hari knew no one was there for her. They wanted to see how Gojo would destroy her. She smiled, thinking about how Captain Fushi’s strategy had worked. The crowd yearned for the new generation to crush the older one.

The Pleaser announced Gojo’s name. Gojo walked in with his hands up, smiling and bowing to the crowd. The screams that came from the ranks were enough to shake the ground and stir the air. Then the Pleaser announced Hari’s name, but to her surprise, the crowd’s clamor only intensified.

As Hari stepped into the arena, she felt the sand beneath her feet inject a dose of excitement into her body. She grinned, the fight clamored for her, and the crowd seemed entertained. The arena mediator approached—a tall, bald man. He made sure they were both in perfect condition for the fight, conducting some quick tests.

“This is not a fight to the death. Do you understand?” the mediator asked, and they both agreed.

“If one of you dies during the fight, I will penalize the other with a disqualification for the next few months. Don’t bite, don’t attack private parts, and don’t pierce each other’s eyes. And please try not to cripple each other.”

“The fight will be over quickly, mediator.” Gojo said, flashing a smug smile at Hari.

“I hope so.” the mediator looked at Hari. “Are you ready?”

Hari nodded, and Gojo did the same.

“Fight!”

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