Chapter 38: To The Winner, Remorse

 "Laaadies and Gentlemen! Boys annnnnd girls! Welcome! To the first annual Marksman Festival... Round Robin Tournament!"

 ...I see

 "That's the best you can do?"

 "Why don't you eat my ass you old fart!?"

 "I'm not some tamed monster whose job is to remove sticks lodged in places they shouldn't be"

 Adelard and a strange older man both sat in the announcers podium spewing insults at each other, causing half of the crowd to laugh and the other to be completely confused.

 Their energetic and gruff voices bounced off each other perfectly, even though it felt like both of them clearly didn't wish to be in such a position, nor were they happy about it. And that only made it better.

 I stood in the center of the large tent, next to a hooded referee wearing an all blue cloak, mask included. She gave off a familiar feeling, but I was certain I hadn't met her before either, nor was she a copy.

 Calling this place only a tent felt like a disservice to its size. It could fit multiple dueling circles, with plenty of audience seating, and still have room left over for absurdities like the announcer's outstretched booth. 

 As the first match of the day, we would use the center circle with six others surrounding it, marked out by a blue rope. 

 The perfect spot to see and commentate on everything.

 "Soooo, uh, where, or like, who am I facing? Am I early?"

 "*Sigh* Your opponent is late. He's a muscle head who was recently demoted. I've been informed you have more experience than most, for your sake I hope that's true"

 Well that's ominous.

 Not even a minute later, my opponent came stumbling through the front entrance, knocking over a few people also entering to watch the early fights. He was a young man with black hair dressed in regular Adventures gear.

 Apologizing to everyone and making sure they were all okay, he dashed towards us. He struck me as everything but intimidating. We where perfectly matched in height, but he was slightly more muscular than me, not that I had anything to brag about either.

 I had gained strength, but it didn't show as much as I wished it did.

 Maybe it's in my blood? 

 Ota once said Oni had really dense bodies, so size was more important than definition, and the strongest could go head to head versus High-Drakes. If I took Rider into consideration, her race had bodies of almost completely condensed power.

 "Hey, can you tell me why he was demoted?"

 "He's a block head, and too kind for his own good"

 "Huh?"

 "..."

 She refused to elaborate, leaving me even more curious.

 "Torse Bruxen. Your late"

 "Sorry! Sorry! There were to many people in the way, you know?"

 Hey! I know that last name.

 Bruxen was the last name of Saint Thekla, a famous Priestess who most would point towards her application of Divine magic in ways never thought possible. She pioneered the means of casting blessings, by applying her body as a conduit for power.

 Through her methods, healing magic could be cast on multiple people, eventually leading to the rise of Faith magic.

 Mother Zoe always talked about Saint Thekla as the reason she chose to be an adventurer when she was young.

 Despite being half a head shorter than either of us, she felt intimidating. Without a shred of hesitation, she unsheathed a knife and approached Torse. I could tell what this was, and both of them knew it had to be done.

 She ripped his gear to shreds, removing each piece of metal, not caring to leave it in a state where it could be repaired. Pauldrons, shin guards, chest plate and bracers, ending it by flicking his forehead.

 "One day your carelessness will cause someone to be killed. Next time I'll leave you naked. Understood?"

 "Yes Ma'am..."

 With shredded gear and a sunken heart, he took position on the opposite side of the ring.

 Her intent was crystal clear. What she said was a warning to both of us. 

 Whoever this woman was, she had connections.

 Blue and white are the official colors representing the Nala Alliance, and the back of her cloak showed a poorly painted symbol of the hollowed mountain peak of Nala itself. My best guess put her as traveling to be a judge for this makeshift tournament.

 "I'll remind all you kind folks, the limit of gear in this tournament is gambeson. However, unlike my idiot co-announcer-"

 "If you're a pot, I'm the kettle! So come up with your own damn name!"

 "*Ahem* Indeed. This was organized last minute, and most of you may have guessed, neither of us are the official hosts of this event. Unfortunately, they're out of commission-"

 "So why are weeee hereeeee!?"

 "You're a natural"

 "Ah, thank you. I take pride in my ability to mimic clowns"

 "No wonder you fit in so well. We'll be your hosts today as Raden and Twain Hein recover from... unintentional poisoning"

 "Yeah so anyway, kicking off the first fight of the day is a battle between two idiots!"

 ...

 "The rules are simple: If knocked out of the ring, give up or fall on your back, you lose. Best of three. Fight with the designated weapons or unarmed, magic is not allowed. Miss Volkov, please roll the dice"

 I thought it was meant to be a wheel?

 As I understood it, this tournament of sorts is simply a bonus activity anyone could participate in, and all ranged weapons, from wands and staves to slings and bows were not included as possible options.

 This was to keep the exclusive use of ranged weapons to the other events, whilst also encouraging people try things they may have never used before. 

 I had my doubts about the whole setup, because unarmed was an option, any competent monk could show up with the advantage.

 "Both of you step forward. If you understand the rules, shake hands and we will begin. Remember, what happens in the ring, stays in the ring, understood?"

 "Got it"

 "Yes Ma'am"

 Why's he so formal?

 We shook hands. He was eager to show of his grip strength, to which I ignored, and the dice was tossed to the ground. One it stopped, an image made of blue light grew from it. 

 It was a basic drawing of a spear.

 As the point system was simple, and all the weapons wooden, I knew how to exploit such a choice. 

 Of the three ways to win a round, my goal was to achieve a victory in each manner. 

 "Both of you step back and take your weapons"

 "Uhh, where do we get them?"

 No sooner than asking, she parted her cloak and I recognised the design. Its inner layer mirrored the night sky. With a constellation drawn, she tossed out two wooden spears, each rounded off with no tip. 

 I caught it with no fanfare, while Torse decided to flourish his weapon. Whether it was to show off or send a warning I had no idea. What I did know is that those that acted flashy tended to fall under one of two camps, inexperienced or a master. 

  He didn't strike me as someone who would hide his talent, but would brag as well.

 However, my mind focused on the masked referee.

 "Why do you have that cloak?"

 "Begin"

 With a smirk, she signaled the start of the fight.

 Holding the spear in both hands he charged forward ready to thrust.

 Without the head, it was no more than a glorified staff, and he had no idea what he was doing. There was no need for a cheap shot, or any complicated other tactic with overconfidence. This was a time to teach him why a spear is so heavily used.

 Left foot forward, right back, I grabbed the back of my spear with my right hand, and aimed for the one spot he wasn't expecting. 

 Breathing slowly, focusing, the world slowed slightly, and I lined up my thrust with his step.

 Before his right foot landed, I started twisting my waist, thrusting forward with my whole body, stretching the spear's range to its physical limit with only my right hand gripping the opposite end.

 He tried to adjust but it was too late, as he misjudged my aim, and I hit directly under his knee.

 Losing his balance as the shock ran through his body, he stumbled out of the ring.

 I didn't move forward for this very reason.

 The old announcer started to laugh.

 The referee made sure Torse was alright.

 Then Adelard started shit talking.

 "What a masterstroke! Suck shit Torse, that's what you get!"

 Huh, what the hell happened between them.

 I felt embarrassed on his behalf. 

 "Torse?"

 "Yeah yeah I'm good. Lucky shot... uhhh"

 "Touji"

 "Right. Beginners luck my ass, what rank are you?"

 "E, and you should be D, right?"

 "Yeah, guess fighting people is a bit harder than monsters"

 I reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet.

 After confirming no real damage, we took positions once again.

 "Is there any special rules depending on the weapon?"

 "No. Now, if you're both ready, begin!"

 Asking such a strange question wasn't part of my strategy, just confirmation I could do it. If it just so happened to make Torse wonder what I planned, then it was no skin off my back, not for this round.

 We approached each other cautiously, slowly reaching a thrusting distance. He waited for me to make a move.

 I leaned down, ready to launch myself towards him, while switching my grip entirely.

 The wooden spear was more or less a glorified quarter-staff, so I would use it like one. 

 Torse didn't understand my plan, so I chose to feint with an identical attack. He jumped back while whacking my spear to the side, the right move if I was using a spear, so I switched it up.

 Charging forward with a dash, I narrowly avoided his spear. Then I positioned my right foot slightly behind his left whilst forcing him back through the collision.

 Shit!

 I had moved far faster than I expected, like mimicking something Arisa would pull off, with all my weight behind it. In overshooting, Torse was able to respond by switching his stance with a hop backwards.

 He had excellent defense and instincts.

 But this was my territory, and any I made should always be followed by another.

 Sister Naji's words rang through my head. 'When facing an opponent who can match your offense with their own defense, a direct attack is folly. That is the strength of techniques, is adaptability'

 Guess I'll improvise.

 Stepping just outside thrusting range, I switched my grip once again, then threw it like a javelin, aiming for his knee again while spiriting forward. 

 He sealed the round when he hit the spear down, but couldn't readjust to defend against a punch in time. 

 His only option was to weave, and in doing so I was able to stand on my spear. It was a dirty trick that Rider had used on me before. As my arm stretched forward with the jab, my right foot on the spear, I kicked it backwards with my left heel with as much force as I could.

 The momentum from his weave worked against him, and the spear tripped his front right foot.

 Torse toppled backwards.

 It happened again, a moment of complete clarity, at a time I would have preferred it earlier in the fight. Time slowed significantly as my mind cleared, I was 'in the zone'.

 He intended to strike as he fell, so I grabbed his spear with both hands on either side of him, and twisted it anti-clockwise. 

 I had no idea what triggered it, and could barely control when it happened either, but for the brief amount of time when everything slowed and my body moved on it's own without a hitch.

 The first time it happened, I was scared for my life, the second against Ota when we first fought, and the third against Rider.

 Now was the fourth, and as the dust settled, I could tell everyone was as confused as me, only with different reasons.

 What I pulled wasn't a masterstroke, it was complete annihilation.

 I stood above Torse, my foot holding him down while pointing his own wooden spear at his throat.

 "Torse?"

 "I give up, you win, I- You aren't E are you?"

 "I was ranked E, but my party is C, and we're all evenly matched"

 Miss Volkov stood still, lost in thought. I got off him and called over Aoife. She'd hidden herself in bird-form while watching on the side-lines, ready to step in at any time.

 Not only did I twist his left hand when I took his spear, his right foot was heavily bruised. I fought without restraint on an opponent I could of easily overpowered if I paid attention to his strength, and my own.

 My stomach twisted with guilt.

 Volkov spoke up, having made her mind.

 "Touji, I'm placing you in the C rank finals. You have clearly exceeded D rank. Torse... I'm sorry"

 Through my actions, even the strict referee felt remorse, and something deeper. She wanted to apologize to someone, not just Torse.

 A sour mood settled on the stadium as newcomers slowly filled the seats.

 Adelard and the old man made no remarks. 

 But in the end, we all knew it was an unfair fight, and an easily avoidable situation was the end result. 

 I could have prevented it.

 I could have controlled myself.

 I could have been correctly ranked.

 I could have held back.

 I was the cause.