Ashborn 319: Tournament Registration (Patreon)

There were so many giants walking around that Vir was fearful he’d be trampled upon. He felt like a child in a city built for adults, which was likely how most children felt growing up in any city, and he suspected parents must have had a similar issue with young children—maybe they wouldn’t be outright stepped on, but it was very easy to miss them.

This worry wasn’t without merit. Several incidents he witnessed on the way to the registrar’s office gave him ample reason for alarm.

Bairans bumped into Iksana, Chitran, and regular demons that Vir supposed were either Ex-Gargan or Aindri. Only Panav nagas in their half-serpentine forms seemed safe. Owing to their snakelike lower bodies, they could vary their height at will, and most stood a pace or two taller than the rest, likely to prevent this exact issue.

It wasn’t all bad, though. The food, and quite frankly everything else, was similarly oversized. On their way to the Colosseum, Vir and Cirayus stopped by one of the many street-side merchants hawking a variety of tasty-looking dishes. Grilled skewers and food plates were all double the portion, and while more expensive, Vir did notice that they weren’t quite double the normal price.

“Maybe bigger isn’t always worse,” Vir muttered as he took a bite into a chunk of deliciously fried fermented soybean cake. His only regret was that with the portions so large, he couldn’t sample nearly as much as his heart desired. That was alright, though. If he didn’t fail out of the tournament, he’d be spending the following weeks here, at the very least.

They made way for a Narapazu—the same beast Vir had fought in the Rani Queendom—whose stomping tremors made Vir wonder if an earthquake had occurred nearby. The great beast was surrounded by a procession of a dozen Bairans, who held reins that reached up to its collar.

This one, however, wasn’t deranged. It was clearly domesticated, and walked with heavy steps. 

Even among giants, the Narapazu reigned supreme. Standing nearly thirty paces in height, the horned, elephant-headed, Ashva-hooved beast lumbered along, causing minor tremors with each step.

Vir had scarcely ever seen any beast as large, even in the Ashen Realm, and he had to wonder how such a bizarre amalgamation of various beasts could ever have been nature. Was it? Or were they a product of Imperium experimentation? Vir doubted he’d ever know.

Everyone gave the creature a wide berth—even full-sized Bairans. In their case, the Narapazu may very well stomp on someone without noticing. They truly were that large.

It carried a boulder the size of a building above its head, though for what purpose, Vir couldn’t say.

“First time seeing one?” Cirayus asked.

“In this realm.”

Cirayus cocked a brow. “I don’t recall ever encountering one in the Ash.”

“Not the Ash. The Human Realm. Trapped in an ancient Imperium complex under Rani.”

“Incredible,” Cirayus muttered, taking a large spoonful of spicy curry. “I’d never have guessed one of their kind could have ended up there. Exceedingly long-lived, those beasts. Not too intelligent, though I’d be scared shitless if they were. They’d make unparalleled warriors.”

Vir shuddered at the thought. Their size alone made them deadly. With equally large weapons and the knowhow to use them, they would be absolutely terrifying.

There had been several factors influencing Vir’s fight back in the Human Realm. The relative lack of prana, the tight confines, and the Narapazu’s limited intelligence had all contributed. Without those impediments, Vir had no doubt he’d have perished.

The Narapazu’s procession soon passed, leaving an empty street in its wake. From Narapazu to nagas to giants, Vir couldn’t help but wonder at the Demon Realm’s uniqueness and diversity as Vir and Cirayus traveled to their destination—the Colosseum’s registrar’s office.

The Human Realm, for all its bountiful prana and prosperity, now felt a bit stale to Vir, who’d now experienced this land of perpetual sunset. despite the poverty, despite the short stick demons had received, Vir felt more at home here than he ever did in the Human Realm.

He felt proud. Of his people—of what they’d accomplished despite all that was stacked against them. He only wished their petty inter-clan politics hadn’t resulted in a Realm-wide war, with his own clan at the center.

Since it was just the two of them—Aida had opted to run last-minute chores in preparation for her departure to the Ash—Vir and Cirayus made good time to the Colosseum.

Despite refraining from using movement arts within the city, but their relatively smaller frames allowed them to slip through crowds, using their extensive experience in combat to weave through crowded streets with ease.

The Aindri, especially, had a hard time of it. Some had bandies as their animal companions, while others rode Ash’va, and even other animals Vir had only seen in the wild. Vir had to thank the clan, though. Without them setting a precedent, he’d have had a difficult time convincing the Tournament staff to allow him to fight with Shan.

The stoic Ash Wolf had roamed off on his own, as usual. Vir needed him to appear for registration, but the beast somehow always knew when to show up. After agonizing endlessly over his safety, Vir had finally learned not to worry about his four-legged friend. Shan was not Neel—a fact Vir now accepted.

The colosseum was a sight that took Vir’s breath away. That was saying something, given all that he’d seen in the Ash.

It wasn’t only the sheer size. The gorgeous carvings, inlays, and colorful banners that draped its circular stone walls all combined to form a magnificent building that inspired awe.

Vir hadn’t been able to imagine a building that could house forty thousand demons. Now, he wondered if that number might not even fill it.

The structure stood over fifty paces tall, and many hundreds in width. Even from afar, its size broke Vir’s sense of scale.

Standing next to it… Well, he truly felt like an ant.

“Over here, lad,” Cirayus said, thumbing to an entrance nearby.

On cue, Shan hopped down from a nearby rooftop and ambled up to Vir, matching his pace.

Vir followed the giant through a large corridor along with Shan, sneaking glimpses at the arena that lay inside. It was difficult to see, and soon they arrived at a large wooden door in the hall with a sign that said ‘Combatant Registrar.’

Cirayus entered and Vir followed, finding a spacious square room with a double-height ceiling inside. There were no windows, instead being lit by the amber light of magic tablet sconces on the walls.

The room was bare, except for a large table at the end, manned by a Bairan who was currently poring over an enormous tome.

Cirayus strolled up

“Thought you were dead. Should’ve known better that an immortal like you could ever die,” the Bairan registrar at the Ravager’s Den. As with the rest of Camar Gadin, the registrar’s office was similarly large, making Vir feel small and insecure. He’d begun to think the Bairans built their structures intentionally large to achieve exactly this effect when other clans visited.

Regarding the name of the place, Vir had to have Cirayus swear upon his family that it wasn’t a joke. That it was, indeed named in his honor, for holding the record of most wins. It wasn’t even close—Vir suspected he’d hold that title for millennia, long after he was gone. 

Vir had laughed most of the way to the Colosseum after that, putting Cirayus in a sour mood.

“Not dead. Not immortal, either. Merely training,” Cirayus replied, using the excuse he’d had Raja Thaman spread. Apparently, the Bairan clan lord was a disciple of Cirayus’ from long ago. 

Vir’s godfather’s longevity, fame, and influence never ceased to amaze him.

“Training. You?” The registrar snorted. “Adinat help us if you’re still training. Poor fighters don’t have a chance.”

“Well, you never know,” Cirayus replied. “Maybe this time will be different.”

The registrar just stared at Cirayus.

“What?” Cirayus said. “You never truly know…”

The Bairan shook his head. “Ravager, I’d bet my firstborn that you’ll win.”

Cirayus scratched the back of his neck. “Well, er, that’s flattering, but I’d honestly rather you didn’t. Too much pressure, y’know?”

Sighing, the registrar finally opened the large leather bound tome that sat on his desk. “Registering, then? You’re a bit late, but well, it’s you. Exceptions can be made, considering it’s you.”

“Aye,” Cirayus replied. “I’ll be registering. And I’m registering this whelp as well.”

The Bairan—whose body was not only larger than Cirayus’, but whose arms, chest, and legs all ripped with muscles, was not impressed.

“What, this whelp? Don’t even see any tattoos on him. You sure you want to apply, kid?” The registrar swept his gaze across Shan, lingering only briefly before returning to Vir.

“I do,” Vir said, matching the demon’s gaze. Size wasn’t everything. Tattoos were, and so he’d had Aida inscribe some fake movement art tattoos on his arms and legs. More of a semi-permanent paint than a real tattoo, they’d at least fool anyone who got a glimpse of his limbs.

While Vir intended to hide as much of himself as possible during the matches, combat could very well result in torn clothes. He wasn’t about to take any chances.

“Well, I suppose we can add you as a last-minute entrant, but I’m afraid I can’t waive the exam. Not for him.”

“Oh, I won’t be fighting alone,” Vir said, placing a hand on Shan’s back. “This wolf will be as well.”

“He’s Aindri?” the registrar asked Cirayus.

“He can speak for himself,” Vir said. “And no, I am not. I didn’t realize being of Clan Aindri was a requirement for fighting in the tournament.”

“I meant no offense,” the Bairan said tiredly. “Just… If you’re not Aindri, I think it’d be best if you fought alone. Tournament’s no place for an animal. Not even prana wolves. Trust me, leave your friend behind if you do not wish to see him injured. Even the Aindri lose their pets here.”

Vir stifled a sigh. This wasn’t a situation that could be resolved by shows of force or bursts of Ash prana. 

“What will it take to convince you?” he asked.

“Oh, no convincing needed. Just making sure you know what you’re getting into.”

Vir nodded. “I do. Now, about this exam. I assume it’s combat-related?”

“It is,” the Bairan replied. “Can’t just let anyone into the Tournament, after all. Even with the preliminaries, we get far too many applicants. Now, Cirayus has vouched for you, so you get to skip the formalities and the panel review. But you’ll have to participate in a duel. And we’ll need both of you to fight, to gauge your abilities. If your wolf can’t pull its weight…”

“No need to worry,” Vir said, scratching Shan’s neck. He only barely kept the grin off his face. “I think we’ll do just fine.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, let’s have a name, clan, and Guardian Rank.”

“No official rank. And the name is Vaak. Of the Ash.”

The registrar’s pen froze, and this time, Vir did smile.

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