The Grand Tournament

by Ivan Kal

  Lucius nodded and stood up. He took a few wobbly steps, but then he stabilized. They then walked back out to the lounge. It had filled up again—those who had lost the previous rounds had returned, though not all of them from what he could see. There was, however, at least one remaining member from every team. In the corner Morgan saw the Harbingers, who looked at the arena with cold looks in their eyes. As Morgan and the others entered, they noticed, and turned to glare at them. Morgan met Emily’s eye calmly, seeing her pale face twist into a sneer. But she didn’t move from her spot.

  Morgan chose to ignore her, as provoking her would only invite future trouble—if the fact that he beat her didn’t. He approached the Last Vanguards, who turned all turned around and looked at Lucius a bit uncomfortably.

  Vrshar had an uncertain look on his face. “Uh, hey, Lucius—”

  “Congratulations, Vrshar. It was a good fight.” Lucius offered his hand, and Vrshar relaxed immediately as he grabbed it and shook it. The others all brightened.

  “So,” Morgan started as they settled in next to the wall watching the arena. “What did we miss?”

  Borodar answered. “Fjordstar stomped another match. They are in the semi-finals.”

  Morgan nodded in understanding. Fjordstar seemed to be the best team in the fights, but of course that didn’t mean anything. They only had to get a bad match-up once to lose.

  “Who is fighting now?” Morgan asked as he looked at the two humans bashing each other with hammers.

  “Fire Rise versus Emerald Dream. The winner is playing against us,” Borodar said.

  “Have you chosen who will fight next?” Morgan asked.

  “Yes,” Borodar said grimly.

  The Vanguards were in a good position. Because of their seed in the tournament, they only had to fight four rounds until the final fight, meaning that their supporter, Jelara, didn’t need to fight. Still, he wondered who they were going to choose.

  Down on the ground the fight came to the end, with one of the hammer-wielding ascended winning by knocking his opponent out. Ragnor announced the Fire Rise team as the winners, and the Vanguards had their next opponent.

  The next match was the semi-final: Fjordstar against Emagenum.

  Morgan and the others got close to watch. Fjordstar had so far used three of their members, including their supporter, leaving only two: their leader, the white-furred Úlfriir, and the male giant. This time they picked the giant. He walked into the arena and stood across from his opponent from Emagenum, a brown-skinned Orc wielding a two-handed sword.

  Ragnor announced the battle’s start and both combatants blurred into motion. Morgan was fairly impressed by the giant—he moved far faster than anyone his size rightfully should. The orc was unleashing a lightning-fast fury of attacks at the giant and he blocked them all with his fist weapons. He wore something that looked like a cross between a gauntlet and a cestus, a fist weapon that was basically a bulge over the fingers.

  The giant didn’t have a weapon with a long reach, but his size made up for it. He blocked one of the orc’s attacks and snapped a punch forward, sending an air strike at his adversary and catching the orc off guard. Quickly, the giant took advantage. He closed the distance and pummeled the orc, and within a few moments the orc fell to the floor and a chime sounded.

  Morgan turned and looked at the Fjordstar crew in the lounge. They weren’t celebrating; instead, they all had focused looks on their faces.

  The healers carried the orc off and the guards came for the next group.

  “You better win this!” Morgan said to the Vanguards, and got a laugh out of them. They waved and walked out. Morgan turned to the arena, seeing a white orb floating near him in the air, recording. He wondered why they recorded people in the stands, but there was no fight at the moment, so he figured that they didn’t have anything to do, and soon after the orb floated away.

  About fifteen minutes later the Vanguards returned, but without Gravough. Morgan was surprised at the choice, but as the dwarvar walked out into the arena he did a double take. The dwarvar had some armor on him, but not much. What he did have, however, were canisters attached on his chest belt, on his waist, a few on his legs, and in one hand he carried what looked like a grenade launcher. Morgan knew that Gravough used many devices on the hunts that they had done together, but he had never used anything like that; although they had talked about such weapons, as they did of course exist on this world.

  His opponent was a female elf dressed in a blue robe, with a staff in one hand.

  The start of the battle was announced, and both sprang into action. The elf raised her staff, but before she could cast even a single spell Gravough leveled his launcher and fired. A canister sailed through the air and the woman changed whatever she was planning to do into a shield. The canister fell and released smoke, covering her domed shield and everything around her in it.

  Gravough didn’t even pause. He reloaded and fired again, then repeated the motion quickly. The first canister landed into the smoke and detonated with an explosion. His are more powerful than mine. I wonder if he knows how to make gunpowder, Morgan thought. He had never known how to make it, or if he had once known, he had forgotten. Instead he was forced to use materials that he harvested from his plants. They were good, but not as good as what he saw now. The second and the third canister fell and exploded as well, and two more were already in the air.

  The smoke was blown away, revealing the woman, who was keeping her staff up and powering her dome. Another canister fell and exploded. Morgan could see the woman wince and tighten her hands on her staff. The next canister exploded midair and showered the dome with several smaller glowing spheres that all exploded against it. And he has cluster bombs—I really need to convince him to let me in on a few of his secrets. Morgan would kill for any of his devices to tinker with.

  Gravough was moving forward, still firing his launcher without stopping. The woman had made a mistake with her defensive play. She was now stuck, unable to take it down, or she would be hit by the explosions.

  The dwarvar just kept pelting her, and soon she dropped to her knees, her dome shrinking. Another grenade exploded and her dome flickered out. Gravough switched his launcher in an expert move, inventorying it and pulling out something that looked like a four-sided crossbow. He aimed to fire, but the woman collapsed on the ground and a chime sounded.

  “She had to have depleted herself,” Hexna said.

  “Most certainly,” Morgan said. She had made one mistake at the start of the fight and lost because of it, without being able to even pit her strength against Gravough’s. Morgan would’ve been pissed at himself if that had happened to him.

  Ragnor announced the winner, and the crowd cheered.

  “You are in the finals,” Morgan said.

  Borodar nodded grimly. “Against Fjordstar.”

  “Yeah,” Morgan said. “You’re fighting, right?”

  “I am,” Borodar answered. Morgan hadn’t doubted it, but just wanted to check. Having Jelara fight wouldn’t be at all smart.

  Ragnor spoke out announcing that the final battle would take place in half an hour.

  “I should go and get ready,” Borodar said, and his team gathered around him.

  “Go—and good luck, my friend,” Morgan said.

  Borodar waved and then they were gone, going to the preparation room probably.

  Morgan and his team chatted softly as they waited. Morgan would cast his eyes on the arena, or rather the stands. It was an entire city’s worth of people, a truly massive gathering. He knew that Al’Valor was a large city, a city of millions, but it somehow didn’t seem like it day to day. But here and now, he was reminded of Earth. This world was in form inferior to his last—it did not have many of the technological advancements he enjoyed on Earth—but it had magic, had the system which was beyond anything that existed on Earth. This world was a brutal place with brutal people, but at its core Morgan could feel that they all wanted only to grow. That was t
he driving force inside of this world, growth: those on top stagnated, but at the bottom, with people like Morgan and the others in this tournament… They were who wanted more.

  Morgan allowed himself to be lost in the noise of the arena, in the hundreds of thousands of lives all waiting in the anticipation of what was to come next: a fight between ascended, a thing to behold. The knowledge that high-leveled people stood among them, that they organized and watched over the tournament, was all there, in the whispers and conversations about nothing at all, about the fights, about the Tower.

  Half an hour later the other Vanguards returned and settled in to watch. They didn’t speak, their focus on the two combatants who had just walked out down below. For Fjordstar, it was their leader, the white-furred Úlfriir. He wore a simple black cuirass with a brown leather jacket beneath it. On his legs he had leather trousers, and greaves on his shins. In his hands he carried a truly massive sword in his left hand, already unsheathed. It looked like an over-sized katana at a first glance, making it an odachi, at least one and a half meters long including the handle. There were a few differences, of course; it had a round pommel, about the size of the fist. The guard was larger than what Morgan had seen on Earth, though it was still round. It had strips of colored fabric tied just above the pommel, and they trailed down in three colors: white, blue, and red. The blade also had somewhat bluish tint to it, which probably meant that it was made out of one of the metals that were unique to this world.

  Across from the Úlfriir was Borodar, looking like the classic example of a barbarian from Earth’s popular culture. His red tattoos covered his now bare chest and back, and in his hand he carried a great double-headed axe, made out of dark iron. From what Morgan could see, the handle looked to be made out of the same material, which meant it had to weigh a ton. Borodar has to have a massive strength stat, Morgan thought. Other than that, Borodar had a brown battle skirt and greaves on, and nothing else.

  Ragnor asked them if they were ready, and then when both nodded he announced the start of combat.

  Surprisingly neither side jumped to attack immediately. Fjordstar’s leader lowered his center of balance and put both of his hands on his sword, pulling it behind himself, while Borodar held his axe in both of his hands horizontally in front of his body. Then the Úlfriir took a deep breath, before slowly releasing it. Mist left his mouth, and more started to fall from the rest of his body. Morgan watched as the ground around his feet started freezing and his armor became covered in a light sheen.

  Then he moved. It looked as if he was skating on the ground—his movements were so fluid and refined that he almost wasn’t even touching the earth.

  Swiftly, he reached Borodar and swiped from the side. Borodar’s axe blocked the sword, and then the big man bellowed, a red haze filling the area around him. The Úlfriir staggered, but only for a moment. Borodar’s axe fell from above and the man twisted his sword over his shoulder, letting the axe slide down as he made a pirouette and then slashed with his great sword from his back over his head. Borodar jumped to the side, but not fast enough—the blade cut his arm, a shallow wound that let some blood out. The barbarian didn’t even pause, however, as he attacked with his axe from below.

  The two exchanged blows several times. The Úlfriir was unnaturally fast and fluid with such a large sword, while Borodar’s every swing looked like it could split the Úlfriir in half. Then Borodar’s axe shimmered, and he brought it down in a devastating strike. The Úlfriir dodged, the axe missing him, but he was nevertheless blown back and the leather of his jacket was ripped apart.

  Morgan leaned closer. He hadn’t seen that ability before. The Úlfriir didn’t allow Borodar to continue attacking; instead, an eerie blue mist rose from his sword and he swung it in Borodar’s direction, sending a wave of ice spikes toward him. Borodar slammed his axe down, sending a wave of shimmering air forward and the ice melted and burst into steam. The Úlfriir’s sight was obscured by it, and Borodar jumped through the mist, exiting near the Úlfriir and attacking mid jump.

  The Úlfriir raised his blade and blocked, but again some force shimmered from Borodar’s axe and damaged his shoulders. Then, before Borodar could make another attack, the Úlfriir burst into mist, his entire body just disappearing, and the mist expanded, surging to envelop Borodar.

  He tried to use his axe to cut into it, but it did nothing, and then the mist collapsed behind Borodar as the Úlfriir coalesced, his sword pointed at the barbarian’s back.

  The blade went through Borodar’s back and out his stomach.

  Morgan winced, thinking the fight was over, but then Borodar’s tattoos started glowing, the red spreading until it encompassed his entire body. He roared and swung his axe behind himself, forcing the Úlfriir to pull it out and defend himself.

  The blow sent the Úlfriir flying, but he dropped into mist form before hitting the ground and then coalescing on his feet. Borodar followed, attacking wildly and without control, his every strike powerful but unfocused. The Úlfriir defended, and then when he saw an opening cut into Borodar’s leg.

  Morgan’s friend howled, but the Úlfriir didn’t let up—he started attacking faster, his blade moving almost too fast for Morgan to follow. Borodar tried to defend, but the cuts started appearing on his body, and he was soon covered in blood.

  Then when Borodar tried to counterattack, the Úlfriir dodged and brought his sword on his axe, ripping it out of his hands and sending it dropping to the floor. Next he released his sword with one hand and snapped a quick palm strike at Borodar—the air burst all around the strike and sent the barbarian flying.

  Fjordstar’s leader then raised his sword and concentrated as Borodar got to his feet and charged, unarmed. Smashing his sword down, an ice path exploded forward, catching Borodar. The moment his feet touched the ice, it spread over them, then grew insanely quickly until Borodar was encased in a pillar of ice.

  A moment later the chime sounded, and the crowd erupted.

  “Winner: Fjordstar!” Ragnor announced, his voice cutting through everything. Healers appeared next to Borodar and placed their palm against the ice encasing him. Swiftly, the ice melted and Borodar fell into their arms and was carried away.

  “Congratulations to Fjordstar, the winners of the grand tournament!” Ragnor bellowed. “I invite all teams to come and join the winners of this stage on the floor of the arena in fifteen minutes, for the declaration of the champions and the reward ceremony.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Several minutes later, the teams that had fought in the tournament were assembled on the floor of the arena. The platform was back, and Ragnor and the rest were standing on it again, except that this time there were people in the stands all around them.

  “Team Last Vanguards,” Ragnor began, his voice booming across the arena. “You have proven yourself well in this stage of the tournament, and as those who came in second place, you are entitled to a reward. Please approach the platform.”

  Morgan gave his friends an encouraging smile and they walked over, their heads held high. Borodar was the only one who looked a bit downcast, but that was understandable. Not only had he just come back from the healers, he was the only one in his team that lost.

  Evermou and Kalrak met them and pulled out an ornamental silver chest, about the size of a jewelry box. They opened it and showed them that the chest contained ten rings and five healing potions. The potions didn’t seem like such a great treasure when he had been seeing them used all day, but Morgan knew just how valuable they were. The Last Vanguards bowed and took their reward. Morgan wondered what the rings were, but he hadn’t had the chance to use his Inspect skill.

  After they left the stage, Ragnor spoke again.

  “Team Fjordstar, you have placed in the top three in every stage, and have proven yourself as both a great team and capable fighters individually. As such we have a great reward for you and your guild: you are being granted the city of Endersmire in the territory of the Call Guild. May your guild
rule it wisely.”

  Morgan could see the shock on everyone’s faces. No one had known that such a territory was going to be a reward. The crowed exclaimed in surprise, and then started cheering.

  “They got land?” Vrshar asked, incredulous. “That…that is worth more than all the other rewards put together!”

  Morgan nodded. He knew just how much the guilds competed for land. It was nearly impossible for smaller guilds to grow, because the larger guilds already owned everything. Short of them declaring war and winning that territory, there was no way to expand. But war rarely happened, as smaller guilds had no chance against the resources of larger ones.

  Fjordstar was stunned as well. The surprise was written all over their faces; they just couldn’t believe it. Ragnor allowed the cheering to continue for a while, but then he finally raised his hand and quieted the crowd.

  “Now, the thing that all of us are here for: we shall declare who we have chosen to accompany us to the Tower,” Ragnor said, and again the crowd was taken aback, along with every team in the arena. They had all just assumed that it would be the winner, but now it seemed like that wasn’t the case.

  “We have been watching your progress carefully, evaluating everything about you. We are searching for people who are like us, who wish to climb the Tower and reach its top. People who can be depended on, who we can call allies and friends—who can be trusted to guard our backs, and who can adapt to the unknown,” Ragnor said.

  He looked over the teams, then at the crowd. “We have chosen three teams,” Ragnor said and before the crowd could erupt continued. “The first team that will be invited to accompany us to the Tower are the today’s winners: Fjordstar!”

  The crowd cheered and clapped. Morgan could see the relief on the faces of Fjordstar. He also figured that even if they hadn’t been chosen they would’ve left happy with the reward they got.

  Ragnor raised his hand. “There is no doubt as to why we wish Fjordstar to be on our side, as I feel has been made evident to all today. The other two teams are the same, two teams that we feel have the potential to become what we need. Two teams with powerful ascended, along with the traits that we want in partners. Their names are: Last Vanguards, and Sky Force!”