Chapter 55: Novice Tournaments
The news reached them three days before the tournament.
It came from a notice pinned outside the public training ground, surrounded by dozens of smaller announcements that had already been torn, replaced, or covered by newer ones.
Ore stopped first. "Wait."
Tolu and the others turned.
She pointed at the largest sheet. "What’s that?"
Akin stepped closer. "A tournament."
Temi leaned over his shoulder. "Novice Combat Trials."
Below the title were several lines of information.
The competition was open to Novices throughout the outer districts of Ilebi. Participants would be divided into brackets, with individual combat making up the first stages before the surviving contestants were eventually placed into a final elimination bracket.
There were rules.
No killing.
No deliberately crippling an opponent.
No attacks outside the designated arena.
Victory would be determined by surrender, incapacitation, or being forced outside the boundary.
And beneath everything was the part that caught their attention.
The prizes.
Ore read it twice. "First place gets five gold."
Akin’s eyes widened."Five?"
"Gold."
"I heard you."
Temi folded her arms. "Second place gets two gold."
Tolu continued reading. "Semifinalists get fifty silver."
They looked at each other.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Their current lives had trained them to understand the value of money.
Ten silver paid for a room.
A few more disappeared into food.
Training cost money.
Weapons needed repairs.
Arrows broke.
Potions cost money.
Every silver coin had somewhere to go.
Five gold was not a fortune to a powerful cultivator.
To them?
It was enormous.
Akin rubbed his chin. "We should enter."
Ore immediately nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."
Temi looked toward Tolu."What about you?"
Tolu stared at the notice.
His first instinct was to say no.
They weren’t professional fighters.
They were adventurers.
They took contracts.
They hunted creatures.
They gathered materials.
They had trained for two months, yes, but that didn’t mean they were ready to throw themselves into a tournament filled with people who had probably spent years learning how to fight.
Then he looked at the prize again.
Five gold.
He sighed. "How much is the entry fee?"
Akin pointed to the bottom of the notice. "Five silver."
Tolu’s expression tightened. "Five?"
"Between the four of us, that’s manageable."
Ore nodded. "We can afford it."
Tolu looked at them. "Then let’s do it."
Temi smiled. "Good."
Akin grinned. "Finally. Something worth fighting for."
Tolu laughed. "Don’t get yourself knocked out in the first round."
Akin’s grin widened. "You worry about yourself."
---
The tournament arrived quickly.
The public training ground had been transformed.
The usual practice areas had been cleared, and wooden barriers surrounded the central arena.
Temporary stands had been erected around it.
Merchants had appeared along the roads leading toward the grounds, selling food, drinks, cheap equipment, cultivation supplies, and small trinkets to spectators.
People came from every direction.
Novices arrived with their friends.
Families came to watch.
Independent adventurers stood around discussing the participants.
Even some cultivators who had no intention of entering had come simply to observe.
Tolu felt the atmosphere the moment they entered.
It was different from the training ground they knew.
The usual noise of wooden weapons striking practice dummies had been replaced by cheers, shouting and the occasional roar from the crowd.
There were more people here than Tolu had ever seen gathered around a single place.
Ore looked around. "There are a lot of them."
Akin smiled. "More opponents means more opportunities."
Temi glanced at him. "You’re unusually confident."
"I’m about to become five gold richer."
"You haven’t fought anyone yet."
"I’ll worry about that after I become five gold richer."
Tolu shook his head.
"Let’s just survive the first round."
Their names were registered.
They received their numbers.
Then they waited.
The first matches began.
---
Tolu’s name was called first.
He stepped into the arena.
The ground beneath his feet was packed earth, smooth from years of use.
Across from him stood another young man.
Tolu recognized his type immediately.
Novice.
Probably around his own level.
The man carried a short sword.
A thin layer of nervous sweat covered his forehead.
The referee raised one hand.
"Begin!"
The sword came immediately.
Tolu moved backward.
The blade cut through the space where his chest had been.
He pivoted and raised one hand.
The earth beneath his opponent’s foot cracked.
A small spike erupted.
The other Novice barely jumped away in time.
Tolu followed.
Another spike.
Then another.
The opponent twisted between them, moving surprisingly well.
Tolu frowned.
He wasn’t going to win by simply throwing earth spikes at him.
The swordsman suddenly rushed forward.
Tolu raised his arm.
Earth rose from the ground.
The sword slammed against the crude barrier.
The impact sent a vibration through Tolu’s arm.
The swordsman pushed harder.
Tolu stepped sideways.
The barrier crumbled.
The sword came sweeping toward his shoulder.
Tolu ducked.
He drove his palm toward the ground.
The earth beneath the swordsman’s feet shifted.
His balance disappeared.
Tolu seized the opportunity.
An earth spike erupted behind him.
Not toward his body.
Behind his heel.
The swordsman stumbled backward directly into the spike’s side.
His balance broke completely.
Tolu stepped forward and placed an earth blade against the man’s throat.
The referee immediately raised his hand.
"Victory!"
Tolu lowered the spell.
The swordsman sat heavily on the ground.
Tolu offered him a hand.
The man accepted. "Good fight."
The swordsman smiled tiredly. "You’ve got annoying magic."
Tolu laughed. "I’ve heard that before."
He walked out.
His chest was rising and falling.
But not heavily.
That surprised him.
He had used several spells.
He had blocked attacks.
He had moved constantly.
Yet his energy wasn’t nearly as depleted as he expected.
He didn’t think much of it.
There were more important things to worry about.
---
Ore’s match came next.
Her opponent carried a spear.
Ore carried her bow.
The crowd immediately began whispering.
"A bow?"
"Against a spear?"
"She’s going to lose."
Ore heard them.
She ignored them.
The referee stepped between them.
"Begin!"
The spear fighter charged.
Ore released her first arrow.
The man twisted.
The arrow passed his shoulder.
Second arrow.
He blocked it with the shaft of his spear.
Third.
He knocked it aside.
He was closing the distance.
Ore backed away.
She fired again.
He dodged.
Again.
He dodged.
His feet were getting closer.
Ore suddenly stopped retreating.
The spear came forward.
She stepped to the side.
The weapon passed beside her ribs.
She released an arrow at almost point-blank range.
The man jerked backward.
The arrow struck his shoulder guard and bounced away.
He stumbled.
Ore immediately created distance.
She didn’t panic.
She had learned that lesson the hard way.
A bow wasn’t merely about shooting.
It was about controlling distance.
Her opponent charged again.
Ore ran.
He chased.
She turned.
Fired.
Missed.
Turned again.
Fired.
The arrow struck his thigh guard.
He stumbled.
Another arrow.
His spear fell from his hand.
The referee stepped forward.
"Continue!"
The man charged without his weapon.
Ore waited.
Three steps.
Two.
One.
She moved aside.
He passed her.
She hooked his ankle with her foot.
He crashed into the dirt.
Before he could rise, she had an arrow drawn and aimed at his chest.
He stared at the arrow.
Then sighed. "I surrender."
The referee raised his hand.
"Victory!"
Ore lowered her bow.
The crowd gave a modest cheer.
She walked out smiling.
Akin slapped her shoulder. "Not bad."
"Not bad?"
"You ran around the entire arena."
"I won."
"Fair."
---
Akin’s fight was different.
His opponent was bigger.
Not dramatically, but enough to make the difference obvious.
The man carried a heavy wooden club.
Akin had his own weapon.
The referee started them.
The club came down.
Akin blocked.
The impact rattled his arms.
He immediately understood.
Stronger.
Akin stepped backward.
The club swung again.
He dodged.
Again.
He dodged.
The third strike came faster.
Akin twisted beneath it and struck the man’s ribs.
The hit landed.
The opponent barely reacted.
Akin’s eyes widened. "Oh."
The man smiled. "That’s all?"
The club came around.
Akin ducked.
The weapon passed over his head.
He kicked the man’s knee.
The leg buckled slightly.
Akin attacked again.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
The bigger Novice recovered and slammed his shoulder into Akin.
Akin flew backward.
He landed hard.
The crowd roared.
Akin rolled before the club could crush him.
He came up on one knee.
The club descended.
He caught the attack on his weapon.
His arms shook.
The other man pushed.
Akin gritted his teeth.
Then remembered what Tolu had told him during training.
Don’t fight strength with strength.
Akin released the pressure.
The opponent stumbled forward.
Akin stepped aside.
Then struck the back of his knee.
The man dropped.
Akin hooked his arm around the man’s shoulder and twisted.
The club fell.
The opponent struggled.
Akin pushed him toward the arena boundary.
The man tried to turn.
Akin drove his shoulder into him.
Both nearly went over.
Akin dug his heel into the dirt.
Then shoved.
The larger Novice crossed the boundary.
The referee raised his hand. "Victory!"
Akin dropped onto his back.
He stared at the sky. "That hurt."
Ore laughed. "You won."
"That doesn’t make it hurt less."