Ashborn 342: Vir vs Tara (Patreon)

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! The first official duel of the dayyyy!” Samik shouted, which in turn prompted the whole arena to go wild. 

As Vir waited alone in the staging area, he couldn’t help but worry. Not that he’d lose, but rather that his deception would be believable enough. It had to be, if he wished to catch his future opponents off-guard.

“We’ll have to give it our best today, Shan,” Vir said, looking down at his trusty companion. “We’ve got no choice.”

The ash wolf barked. Vir wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, but Shan’s response felt a bit less enthusiastic than he’d have expected.

Not a good sign if even Shan’s worried…

“Introducing our first combatant! Vaaaak—of Ash!”

“That’s our cue,” Vir muttered. “Let’s go.”

Though Vir had braced himself for the onslaught of booing, it was still quite the spectacle.

So many people, Vir thought. And they all hate me.

Personally, he didn’t care. The opinions of some no-name strangers were so low on his mind that he’d have forgotten all about it only minutes later. What struck him more was how so many could feel so strongly about someone they’d never met. So quick to judge, based on the handful of times they’d seen him. 

And Vir was sure many of those booing hadn’t even seen his prior fights. Many had likely heard of it from friends, or were simply booing because everyone else was.

It was a reminder of the insanity of crowds, and how even intelligent individuals became easily cowed sheep when subjected to peer pressure. Vir wondered how much of the clans’ decision to ally with the Chitran had been because of something similar. Only on a realm-wide scale.

Vir waved up at the crowd as if he were being cheered, which of course, only made the voices louder.

“He seems utterly unfazed, Samik! Does our champion-destroyer have nerves of steel? Or is it just an act?”

“Act! Act! Act!” came the crowd’s fervent reply.

Vir smirked and shook his head. So stupid…

“If it is, he seems to be an awfully good actor! If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s feeling quite confident about this upcoming match.”

“Well, Nakin. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough! Why don’t we bring out our other competitor?”

“Indeed. She’s young. She’s beautiful. She’s a natural-born killer! Introduciiiiing Taraaa of Clan Panaaaav!”

Tara’s reception was deafening, drowning out whoever was still booing for Vir in a matter of seconds.

Tara walked out, hefting her spear over her shoulder while casually waving with the other hand.

“And that’s the darling of Panav we’ve all been waiting for!” Nakin shouted, trying to make himself heard over the din of hoots and cheers.

Suddenly, the fervor redoubled, and Vir snapped his attention back to Tara.

“Is-Oh my! She’s blowing kisses, folks!”

“And not just at her own clan. To the whole stadium! Is there anyone who doesn’t love this girl?”

“As a matter of fact, it seems our two fighters worked rather closely during the qualifiers.”

“Closely, you say?” Nakin replied. “I wonder what their history is like? Two new competitors showing up all of a sudden? Would you say they’re friends, Samik? Or perhaps… Something more?”

Vir groaned. 

The applause, which had only just begun to die down, reached an absolute frenetic intensity—nearly on par with the reception Cirayus got when he was first introduced. 

Vir didn’t even want to think about the fallout from this development. It’d have been bad enough as it was, but now? The last thing he needed was for an arena full of tens of thousands of demons to think he had something going on with Tara, of all people. And especially not after he defeated her today. 

“Well, it’s out of our control. No use worrying. Right Shan?”

To his surprise, Vir found the wolf resting on his belly, tongue out, and panting. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, frowning.

Shan stood right up and barked back at him, as if telling him ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.’

Before he could check on Shan further, Tara arrived at the stage, jumping deftly up onto the platform.

Vir regarded his opponent—dressed in the same leathers she always wore. 

“No hard feelings, yeah?” she said with a tight smile. “However this goes.”

“Back at you, Tara.”

There was no longer any room for doubt. He had to win this. Pure and simple. 

“Combatants! Fight!”

— — 

“If I hadn’t seen his power and judged his character myself… I would be weeping for the realm right now,” Thaman said from his place beside Cirayus on the grandstands.

Cirayus, for his part, wanted nothing more than to bury his his face in his palms. “By Badrak, what is he doing?”

“I think it’s fairly obvious what he’s doing,” Thaman replied. “He’s trying not to hurt a girl. Or lover, perhaps?”

Cirayus snorted. “Not that. Far as I can tell, the lad is bent on staying monogamous.”

“A pity,” Thaman replied, before raising a brow. “So, he has someone, then?”

“Oh, yes. He does.”

“I see. I’ll not pry. I suspect, like everything with him, the situation is complicated.”

Cirayus barked a laugh. “More than you can imagine, Thaman. Suffice it to say that when it is eventually revealed, it might throw the entire realm into chaos.”

The Bairan Raja gave Cirayus a look of pure horror, but Cirayus didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were glued to the stage, and his fingers brought fried sweets to his mouth like a machine.

Tara had covered her half of the stage with her noxious cloud, and Vir… Well, Vir seemed content to stay defensive. For the duration of the match, he hadn’t even attempted to attack the naga.

“He could end this with one throw of that Artifact of his,” Thaman commented. “Still green, it seems.”

Cirayus grunted. “As you said, he doesn’t wish to hurt the girl.” He wasn’t about to reveal the secret of the chakram’s limitations to Thaman—not in such a crowded space with so many ears, and not when it was so vital to his competition strategy. “Still, he is playing right into her hands. He’s fought more Ash Beasts in two years than most demons in their entire lives, and yet he still behaves this way.”

Thaman chuckled. “I recall you saying something similar to me, centuries ago.”

Cirayus grunted. “You, at least, had time. He does not.”

Thaman fell silent for a moment. “Will your plan really work?”

Cirayus cringed as Vir dodged again, entering into the thick of Tara’s poison field. He had doubts about how effective her field would be on him, given his prana density and constitution, but it seemed his hopes were unfounded. Vir faltered, and Shan’s movements were sluggish.

“It will,” Cirayus replied at last. “He will win. For that is the sort of demon he is. Against all odds. Against superior enemies… He finds a way.” Cirayus thought back to the first battle they’d fought. To how much the boy had grown since then—to the adult he had become.

“He always finds a way.”

— — 

Vir was having a hard time.

Not because Tara’s poison was getting to him—Prana Channeling, when combined with his pranites—had no issues keeping the cloud at bay. If he spent days in the densest part of the cloud, then maybe he’d feel something, but as of now? He was in perfect health.

No, the hard part was pretending that the poison was getting to him. And pretending that he had some chivalrous issue attacking Tara.

Vir’s goal wasn’t to win. His goal was to win while making it look like a fluke. Which was where Shan came in. That was the other reason he was concerned. Shan was the lynchpin for his plan… And yet, something was clearly wrong with the Ash Wolf.

The poison cloud seemed to affect him far more than it did Vir, despite the wolf possessing all the tools needed to counteract the damage. Shan had Ashani’s pranites coursing through his body just the same as Vir.

“Shan!” Vir called out, urging the wolf to attack. If Shan penetrated Tara’s cloud and pinned her down, Vir could come in and look like he stole the wolf’s victory—the same as he’d done in his first match.

Except every second that passed had the wolf growing more and more sluggish.

“Don’t think you can rely on your friend there,” Tara said with a smirk.

“He better not suffer after this,” Vir called back.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll just go to sleep for a while. Have a nice nap!”

Tara shouted that last part to the crowd. It was clear from the moment she walked out onto the stage that she was milking this battle for every bit of publicity she could get. Tara would never say things like that to him in private.

Vir crumpled to a knee, feigning agony.

“Why don’t you just give up?” Tara asked, positively gloating. “It’s not like I enjoy doing this, you know? Just say the magic words and it’ll all be over.”

“I…” Vir coughed. “I won’t. Give in.”

Tara strutted closer, putting Vir in the densest part of the toxic gas. He fell to all fours, hacking.

“How exactly do you intend to beat me? You won’t hurt me? Your wolf is out of the fight. And now, you can’t even stand. Can you?”

Vir glanced over at Shan, desperately hoping the wolf was faring better now. He wasn’t. The wolf was lying on the stage—either unconscious or close to it. 

Tara arrived at Vir’s position, her spear positioned menacingly at his chin.

Vir struggled to raise his head to look at her.

Tara, meanwhile, waved to the crowd. “Should I hurl him off the stage? Or should I hurt him?”

The arena answered with a myriad of responses, which melted together, becoming a soup of garbled nonsense. 

Tara cupped her ear and made a show of listening.

“I see!” she said, nodding to herself. “Well, Vaak. It seems they want me to push you off the stage. It’s the least I can do to respect the courtesy you’ve shown me. Don’t worry, though. I’ll administer your first aid myself. You won’t feel a thing.”

“Courtesy?” Vir wheezed. “Is that what you thought?”

Tara frowned. “Why, yes. Is that not why you haven’t hurt me?”

Then, without warning, Vir moved. Not sluggishly, or weakly, but at his absolute full power. He sprang up, driving into Tara’s torso, and Leaped.

“Not quite,” he whispered as they sailed through the air. All the way across the stage, and at their current trajectory, over it. “No hard feelings,” he whispered into her ear.

Tara heaved and her eyes bulged as the wind was knocked out of her. “N-no!” she sputtered, sucking in a hacking breath. ”Wait! We’ll both lose! The bounds! We’ll go out of bounds!”

“Sorry, but I can’t afford to lose here.”

Vir pushed Tara away from him, then kicked her torso and sent her flying into the distance. 

Somersaulting in midair, Vir righted himself as he fell. He watched as Tara collided with the ground and rolled to a stop, where she lay unmoving and unconscious. A full dozen paces out of bounds.

As for Vir, he activated Light Step, landing on the very edge of the stage.

Silence filled the arena as Vir rose slowly to his feet. He dusted off his armor and looked up at the commentators.

“Well? Don’t you have something to say?”

“R-right,” Samik said, his amplified voice echoing across the arena. “Winner! Vaaaak of the Ash!”