Show Them

The Kailash arena is located atop a snowy mountains, or rather, above it. It is a place where spirits are born, where prophets make them, and make money while they are at it.

The center of the arena is a fighting ring covered by a dome. That dome would gradually absorb the spiritual essence within the bodies of what and who was in it, take that essence and then convert it into spirit cores. But the absorption rate of the dome was very slow. Nonetheless, it absorbed at a comparatively faster time when the essence containing bodies within are excited. In other words, when these bodies are in battle.

Unfortunately, along with the essence the dome would take, the lifespan of living creatures within the ring would be absorbed proportionally. But this was where the fun part of the fight came in.

Spirit cores made within the arena are of two types, the 'Steam phoenix' cores and the 'Fluid turtle'. Whenever a fluid turtle core was made within the arena, it would crawl into the ground and fall into the bottom half of the drum-like arena to create a burst of random spirit which could later be harvested for use.

But if a steam phoenix is made, it would soar into the body(ies) of its chosen winner(s), giving them back a portion of their lifespan and a short burst of energy for the next round.

The prophets who did battle would get paid regardless of whether they won or completely lost all three rounds, but it was still better to get their stolen lifespans back and the advantage for the next round. Besides, the winner gets paid a lot more.

———

"And the winner for the first round is... Ik—" The referee had to stop as he and the audience watched the small red phoenix fly into the body of the collapsed man instead.

It's wrong choice was weird on its own, but the fact that it even seemed to scamper away from the clear winner of the recent match to take shelter in the defeated foe made the situation even more peculiar.

Sitting atop Ikky's head, Yaga scowled, "Not like it was of any use to me."

Ikky looked away from the now subconscious body beneath his feet up at Yaga.

"Hey, what about me? I rushed that guy cuz I wanted my lifespan back."

"Calm down. Only a few seconds have passed, and only a few seconds have been removed from you." Yaga answered.

After the blessing of the steam phoenix had gotten completely assimilated into the beaten up man's body, he soon stood upright.

"H-huh? Did I...?" Even he didn't understand what had just happened.

But after a few seconds of recuperating, the referee stammered as he gave the two opponents the signal to begin their next match, "R–round two!"

"Well, I guess I could trade a few seconds of my lifespan." Ikky thought things through for a while before shrugging and walking up to his opponent.

The man who was unfortunate enough to be matched up against Ikky shifted his feet backwards as the boy approached.

This was how it went down the first time except then, he had a condescending smile on his face as the fragile looking boy walked up to him. But although his attitude had taken a 180 degree turn, Ikky's was still blank. It was almost impossible to read into his thoughts through Ikky's poker face.

Ikky suddenly launched himself from the ground towards the fleeing man.

Quickly predicting where Ikky was about to hit, the man shifted his legs to protect his groin and took on a defensive stance when Ikky's elbow brutally crashed into his neck instead. Gagging and wreathing in agony for a few seconds, the man fell once again, lying pathetically on his stomach.

Multiple gasps came from the audience as they watched. Of course, they had seen worse sights than this, however Ikky's violent nature along with the ease at which he took down another prophet like himself, was still something to be surprised about.

"With how calm he looks, you'd think his opponent is the only one expelling spiritual essence." One of the prophets muttered.

"Is that why the bird picked the other guy?"

"Nah, this kid's just way too brutal."

Looking at Ikky's opponent get back up after the phoenix fled towards him, the referee asked,

"It's two to zero. So you have the option to forfeit. Your choice?"

The man rubbed his neck gently as he came back to his senses.

'Give... up?' He thought. 'Wait why am I here again?'

He soon began to recall.

Ivern is a forty nine year old man (age before + after his first omen). He was one of the few lucky people to escape the recent Omen-call. There was a reason why there were so little who had made it out alive, and that was because this year's first omens were unlike any other. They defied what the world of prophets had come to agree on as reasonable. The monsters that lurked in these omens... the horrors they wrought. No one who had not experienced it would believe; and Ivern wanted to show them all, to give them a practical show of what it took to make it out of the godforsaken omens. He had intended to...

Looking up at the man standing indifferently above him, Ivern could only clench his teeth in frustration as he muttered in a hoarse voice,

"How much do you think I had to suffer to get back here alive? How can someone like you think you can take me down, huh?"

To survive against a Sullen grade spirit with four crystals— three more than the maximum amount that was supposed to be in a first omen— was not easy. He had made it out of that hardship alive, he was as hard as a boulder now!

But Equinox... Nox had been fighting for their lives ever since they could discern the difference between the light from a lamp and that from the sun. Yet,

"Troubles don't make anything. Torment and hardships only break you. So they don't mean anything at all unless you take advantage of the experiences and learn from them. You are not better than anyone here, and even if you were then still shut up. There's always a bigger predator who, and they usually go for the lousy ones first.

You... have learnt nothing."

Ivern looked up at the audience as they watched with their eyes glued to the ring, and then at Ikky who now seemed to be losing patience at the referee for not announcing the start of the final round.

He shook his head stubbornly. "No, you don't understand! None of you do! But I'll show you... I'll show you that I'm different! That I'm stronger, and that I... AM..."

The winds within the arena suddenly began to fold and swirl around the dark object that was forming around Ivern's right hand. And with its complete materialisation, the air went wild enough to even cut Ikky's cheek from afar.

"... better." A pole arm weapon with the head of a closed umbrella with four sharp and straight edges was formed, it's head spinning vigorously while the pole part stayed firm.

Since prophets are advised to keep their totems out of the sight of others, Ikky had expected to only catch sight of one in life threatening situations when he had started going on omen missions. But never had he anticipated that he would be seeing one soon, and in a public place no less.

Alas, Ikky could still not see what he was looking for, no... he could not see at all.

"Yaga, what are you —" he carried his hands to clear his vision, when his opponent's metallic weapon suddenly slammed into the side of his ribs and sent him flying all the way to the edge of the dome.

The arena was devoid of human noises, but filled with the sound of the raging wind; and Ikky wasn't getting back up.