Street Cultivation, page 37
The problem was that it was all too far above him. He couldn't sit back and enjoy the intensity of it, he wanted to understand and follow the lucrim techniques. Yet before he had even begun to catch up to the overpowering fighters, the match was already over.
One had fallen, two were injured, and the other five looked untouched, including Teragen. He realized that one of the survivors wore the Verdant Mountain sect's traditional robes. Perhaps a long fight would have ended differently, but it was over rather soon. Not that many points were awarded, either, which mirrored his sense of anti-climax.
"Is that usually how heavyweight fights go?" Rick glanced at the others, some of his disappointment showing. "Or will they fight to the finish later?"
Anthony sat back and propped his legs up on the window. "Nah, the pros don't like to lose publicly. This is like a chance to show off for them, not a serious tournament. They prefer the invitation-only, one-on-one type deals."
"That's right," Malati said. "In these multi-tier tournaments, the top power classes often cancel each other out. That's why you need a strategy for all the tiers."
Rick glanced at Granny Whitney, but she had nothing to add, watching the scoreboard. Though her team was still in the lead, she seemed more tense than before. He looked to the listing and saw that the Verdant Mountain sect had knocked the Branton Bulldogs out of the top five, but otherwise nothing had changed.
The next class selected was welterweight again, so Anthony left with his usual bravado. When he got down to the arena, Rick saw that Tom was in the match too, as well as a green-robed woman. At the edge lurked a man in a long coat who looked strong as well. Since all the most powerful welterweights were thrown into this melee, it seemed like this match was meant to finish the power class.
When the match started, Tom began with an explosion of lightning, but only one of the weaker fighters was hit by it. Judging from the strength of the blast, Rick thought that Tom had anticipated that and not put much strength into it. The green-robed woman faced off with him, extending an aura that seemed to suppress Tom's lightning entirely.
Then the man in the long coat shot Anthony in the back.
It looked like a lucrim bullet, too, which would have shocked Rick if he hadn't just seen a machine gun used in the previous match. Anthony grunted in pain and dropped to one knee, but pushed himself back up. He hurled one of his explosive spheres, but the man shot straight through it.
This bullet hit Anthony in the chest. He staggered a step back, aura failing, and a third shot knocked him flat on his back.
Seconds into the match, their fighter had been taken out. Granny Whitney released a slow breath that hissed through her teeth. Below, Anthony began to bleed out on the arena floor, yet she gave no instructions.
Though the Verdant Mountain sect member pressed Tom fiercely, her aura proved ineffective against the lucrim bullets from the man who Rick assumed was from the American Basilisk's team. Her body was immediately pulled from the arena by other green-robed figures and taken for treatment. In the end Tom faced off with the gunman, but his lightning proved overwhelming and he was the only one standing at the end, though injured.
They all looked to the screen for the scores, recognizing that this was their first major loss. Anthony's performance earned only a single point, while Tom and the gunman both received 7 points. As the results were displayed, the rankings shifted as well.
[1) Alger's Heroes - 42 pts
2) Granny's Underground - 40 pts
3) Obsidian Thirty - 37 pts
4) Serpenza - 25 pts
5) Verdant Mountain Sect - 23 pts]
Granny Whitney clucked her tongue and shook her head slowly. Before she could say anything, an official leaned into their room with a look of concern. "Uh... we've stabilized your fighter, but he needs more treatment. If you tell me wh-"
"No." Granny Whitney didn't even look back at him. "We have no additional treatment to offer. Do your bare minimum and then turn him out. He isn't to be allowed into the contestant area again."
The official's eyebrows rose, but he nodded and slipped out. Once he was gone, Granny Whitney turned to them all and smiled gently.
"Well, this is a setback, isn't it? Please do your best from now on."
Chapter 51: Closing In
Their room had never been exactly festive, but after Anthony's defeat and dismissal, it became much grimmer. Malati was digging her long fingernails into her own arms, struggling with the tension. Teragen and Emily seemed mostly unaffected, but when the screen declared that the middleweight class was next, Emily couldn't escape it.
"Take out Alger's fighter." Granny Whitney grabbed Emily's arm as she stood up, staring at her. "He needs to take a hard loss now, or he'll extend his advantage."
"I can try." Emily still seemed focused, though the recent events had weakened her concentration a bit. "Which one is he?"
"He's an old hand at the Underground, with a strong Turtle Lucore. You're a good match-up for him, which is part of why I recruited you. Don't disappoint me."
Instead of answering, Emily just headed toward the arena tunnel. Rick found himself on the edge of his seat, hoping that she'd do well. Though she had more resources than some of the rest of them and could recover without Granny Whitney's help, he didn't want her to end up injured because the old woman pushed them too far.
The match started intensely, but this time Emily didn't jump into the fray. Instead she crept around the side of the octagon, repelling anyone who tried to engage her with rapid swipes of her aura blade. The fighter with the "Turtle Lucore" turned out to be an older man who could rapidly convert his aura into some sort of defensive shell, hence the name.
Emily rushed past his defenses and swiped for his neck, but her blow was repelled by the defensive shell. She fell back, taking fire from another one of the combatants, and then the man charged, slamming into her.
One of Emily's arms was burned and she should have been disoriented from the burst, yet her unnatural focus held. She struck out at her target again and the man retracted his aura into his defensive shell, just as before.
Except her other hand swung out first, a second aura blade cutting through the outer part of his aura. The man winced and his control faltered, the shell dropping away to expose one of his legs. She struck it instantly, her blade sweeping through his leg. As he cried out in pain, she slammed both blades into his chest.
Even in non-lethal mode, two blades like that going through a person's torso must have been painful. It was unquestionably a disabling blow and the man dropped, but Emily was entirely committed to the movement. When others struck her from behind, she went flying across the arena and smashed into one of the pillars before falling to the ground.
Rick gripped his armrests tightly, willing her to get back to her feet. She gradually did, stabbing her aura blades into the arena floor and levering herself up. But when Emily staggered back to her feet, her eyes had changed. The meditative trance that had taken her that far had been broken.
That didn't mean she was weak, as one of the other fighters learned when he attacked from the side and got a blade to the face. But it took obvious effort for her to straighten after the blow, struggling to move past her injuries and the fatigue. Worse, in the time it had taken her to get up, a lean woman in a black coat had taken out all the other fighters except a man wearing a dragon mask.
At the beginning of the fight, Rick would have guessed that Emily had a good chance against either of them. But now, they were both in good condition, while she was struggling. Just when he started to worry... the buzzer sounded. Emily looked upward, as if slightly surprised, then began limping her way back to the room.
Meanwhile, everyone looked to the screens to see the results. Emily had scored 4 points, which was only the third most in that round. However, Granny Whitney seemed pleased enough. Apparently taking out Alger's fighter really had been her top priority, even if it hadn't regained them the lead.
[1) Obsidian Thirty - 45 pts
2) Granny's Underground - 44 pts
3) Alger's Heroes - 43 pts
4) Serpenza - 31 pts
5) Verdant Mountain Sect - 24 pts]
Now he saw the core three competitors pulling ahead of the others, neck and neck as they moved toward the finish. The single point difference between the three groups meant almost nothing, so perhaps Granny Whitney was right to focus more on taking out one of their opponents. Their job was to make her happy, after all, not to win.
When Emily returned to the room, she was limping but didn't show any pain. Malati got out of her seat to help support her, but Emily just looked to Granny Whitney. The old woman gave a slight nod, and after that Emily seemed to relax.
She didn't let Malati help her for long, however, and instead of returning to her seat, she sat cross-legged in one corner of the room. Rick glanced back at her a couple of times before he decided that it was worth going to talk to her. He'd just have to hope that he wasn't annoying her.
"Hey." He sat down a short distance away from her. "Are you okay?"
"I will manage." She was silent for a long time, then spoke softly. "Your defensive techniques were useful in limiting injury. Thank you."
That seemed to take a lot from her, so he shrugged it off. "It was a fair exchange, or if anything I got the better end of the deal. Will I be bothering you if I stay here?"
"No. It is fine."
Emily didn't say anything more than that, however. After they sat in silence for a while, Malati's power class came up and she headed out to the arena. Though Rick wouldn't have minded seeing her in combat more, he didn't want to just walk away from Emily. After a bit of awkward silence, he decided to just satisfy his curiosity.
"What was that trance-like state you were in?"
"Part of my discipline." She paused long enough that he thought she might not provide any more of an answer, but eventually she continued. "It was necessary if I wanted to perform at an adequate level as a melee fighter, if you understand me."
He nodded to let her know he understood: she didn't want to show her ranged attack in front of so many people. Rick found himself wondering if that was simply for self-defense, or if she had other reasons. "It seemed pretty impressive. Are you trying to regain it?"
"If possible. It would help with the pain."
"Shouldn't Granny Whitney be providing you healing, anyway?"
Emily shrugged. "I'm done fighting for the day, so she doesn't have any motive to help me. But the rewards include a number of valuable items that would help me recover, so I am not concerned. It's just an issue of pain-management until then."
"Let me know if there's anything I can do, okay."
"Yes... I will." She actually gave him a slight smile, and then opened her mouth to say more, but at that moment a gasp of surprise went through the audience.
Both of them stood up to see what was happening. All the screens displayed different angles of the same thing: the center of the arena was smoking from some sort of impact that left several bodies crumpled nearby, one of them bent in half. It looked like the man's back might be broken, brutally enough to provoke the reaction, but Rick found his attention drawn elsewhere:
Malati lay at the edge of the blast radius, unconscious.
The fight ended soon afterward and Rick glanced toward Granny Whitney. She looked furious, and he wondered if she would abandon Malati as well, but after a pause she moved to the door and gave a command. Several people in healer's outfits moved out to recover Malati and took her beneath for treatment.
It took everything a while to get back to normal, since the man with the broken back needed serious medical attention. The results also seemed to be delayed, though Rick wasn't sure if it made any difference. Unless the injury had been done via an illegal method, there probably wouldn't be any penalties. Or maybe the tournament organizers were drawing it out, since the crowd was abuzz with talk of the previous match.
When the large screens began cycling through the tiers again, the results popped up on screen. As expected, Malati had not done well, leading their group to drop back more.
[1) Obsidian Thirty - 49 pts
2) Alger's Heroes - 47 pts
3) Granny's Underground - 46 pts
4) Serpenza - 33 pts
5) Verdant Mountain Sect - 28 pts]
That was bad news, but they were still not far from the other main contenders. Yet Rick's attention was drawn away from the scores by a gasp from the crowd. There was no one fighting, what could have drawn such a reaction? He saw it a moment later:
The screens had selected middleweight again. Emily closed her eyes and took a slow, shuddering breath, then began to move toward the door.
"Wait." Granny Whitney moved to block her path and pulled something from out of her handbag. "Take this."
"Have I fulfilled the terms of our agreement?" Emily accepted the object, but looked down at her with a neutral expression.
"Well enough. But I expect you to give this everything you have."
"I'll try." With that, she headed out to the arena, still limping. Rick rushed to take his seat and watch the match.
When Emily walked up the ramp onto the arena, she was no longer limping. In fact, she looked as calm as before, though he suspected that was partially an act. Whatever that trance technique was, it couldn't be dropped and resumed on a whim.
This time there were only four fighters, the three survivors of the previous match and one from the previous middleweight match. He was the freshest and knew it, immediately rushing to attack the others while they were still reeling from their injuries.
In a less experienced group, it might have worked, but those who remained were all veterans. They actually briefly aligned in an unspoken truce against him, striking back and rapidly dealing several injuries. As he fell back, they turned on each other, but Emily slid free of the combat, her aura blade held in defensive position.
The woman in the black coat - presumably affiliated with the American Basilisk - kept targeting her, but she did so predictably, thus opening herself to attacks from the other two. Rick was starting to hope that the battle would reach equilibrium and be ended... then one of the fighters went down.
Immediately the American Basilisk's fighter lunged for Emily again. The other remaining fighter tried to take advantage, but it was all a feint - the woman turned on him and raised a finger, firing several aura bolts that pierced her opponent. Even as he fell, she turned on Emily and rushed in to end the match.
Though Emily swung at her, the other woman dodged and then grabbed her arm. Her fingers bit through the aura blade and then somehow she snuffed it out. Emily jerked back, but too late: the other woman aimed at her with two fingers and fired multiple aura bolts through her stomach.
Emily summoned an aura blade around her other hand and cut through her opponent's arm - or tried to. Instead of sliding through and dealing lucrima damage, the edge actually bit in, causing blood to flow from the woman's coat. She fell back with a cry but then struck back, dropping Emily to the ground.
Rick found himself hoping that she'd stay down this time, let the match end without any more serious injures. Yet somehow Emily pushed herself upward again, weak but refusing to surrender. Her opponent had been cradling her arm but turned back angrily, raising her good hand to release more of the aura bolts.
The buzzer sounded.
A second after it went off, ending the match, the woman in the cloak fired several more aura bolts anyway. Emily collapsed to the ground, barely evading them, and lay still. Rick honestly wasn't certain if it was an intentional dodge or if she had just run out of energy.
Though Granny Whitney gave orders to retrieve Emily and help heal her, she was obviously focused on the screens, waiting for the results. They took a bit longer than usual, and Rick was surprised to see that Emily received the second most points. Their opponents had pulled further ahead, but only by one more point, and the fact that Alger's fighter had been eliminated made him plummet.
[1) Obsidian Thirty - 54 pts
2) Granny's Underground - 50 pts
3) Alger's Heroes - 47 pts
4) Serpenza - 34 pts
5) Verdant Mountain Sect - 28 pts]
"Four points." Granny stared at the screen for a long time, then turned to look at them, first at Teragen and then at Rick. "You need to close that gap, somehow. Alger will be throwing everything into the last matches as well, so you can't get complacent."
Though she spoke to Teragen, she seemed to be focused more on him. After all, the heavyweight class was likely to mostly cancel out again. Now he understood why she was willing to invest time and money into the lowest power class. He didn't like it, but he did understand.
Rick wanted to find out if Emily was okay, but knew he couldn't go meet her. Not with the screens lighting up and running through the wheel of power classes again. Though they displayed all five, Rick remembered what Emily had said. Based on how many fighters were down, there were probably only two options. That gave him a 50% chance of having more time.
And even when it was just a coin flip, his luck couldn't let him rest.
The last featherweight match was about to begin and all the pressure was on him. He couldn't just win, he needed to win decisively. As he started to walk down to the arena, Rick tried not to think about Granny Whitney's eyes drilling into his back.
Chapter 52: Rick's Last Fight
When Rick reached the chamber beneath the arena, the ramp didn't lower as quickly as before. Perhaps they had more cleaning work to do. In any case, he didn't want to waste that time, so he ended up looking over the others more carefully. After the previous rounds, he actually didn't recognize any of the remaining featherweights, and he struggled to accurately evaluate their lucrima portfolios.
While he was watching, one of them approached with a smug look on his face. The man was several years older than him and wore a black coat that looked of a kind with the other fighters who worked for the American Basilisk.
