Ashborn 343: Chitran vs Aindri (Patreon)

Tara was immediately carted off via stretcher, but when no one came for Shan, Vir grew enraged. Still on the stage, he picked up his unconscious friend and Leaped off the stage, not bothering to respond to the crowd—who booed and jeered at him—nor did he pay any attention to the commentators, who were talking about Shan’s capabilities.

Did none of them see his friend was hurt?

Vir raced into the waiting area and shouted even before he’d come to a stop.

“Healers! Now!”

It may have been the urgency in his tone, or the sight of the sight of an angry Tournament victor, but the handful of young demon-hands dropped what they were doing and ran to get someone, acknowledging Vir with a crisp ‘Yes, sir!’ and ‘We’re on it, sir!’

A demon emerged, whom Vir could only guess was a naga.

“My companion has been poisoned,” he said, trying and failing to keep the panic out of his voice. “Please, heal him!”

The Panav knelt, placing a hand upon Shan’s fur, and Vir saw the prana inside him cycle, filling the tattoo of Yuma’s Touch. It wasn’t the same as the Ultimate Bloodline Yuma’s Embrace that Tara possessed, but she was currently incapacitated, and somewhere deep inside the other end of the arena. Finding her quickly would be a challenge.

The naga retracted his hand a moment later. “Friend, there is nothing wrong with your beast.”

“What do you mean?” Vir cried in panic. “Don’t you see? He fell ill because of Tara’s poison! He needs—”

Vir stopped as Shan twitched. His eyes fluttered open, and and stood up.

“See?” the naga said, rising to his feet. “Right as rain.”

Shan started pacing around as if nothing had happened, and Vir gave him a close look with Prana Vision. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and if the Panav trusted with healing contestants assured him nothing was wrong…

Vir let out a sigh. “Thank you. I may have panicked a bit. You have my apologies.”

“None needed!” the naga said. “If he experiences further symptoms, please do bring him by. Our facilities are available no matter the hour.”

“Thanks,” Vir said with a small nod. “I’ll do that.”

— — 

By the time Vir returned to the grandstands, the next match had already begun. Unlike previous days, the tournament officials decided to switch up the format, putting two official fights back-to-back. The reason for that was Cirayus’ fight at the end of the day. They figured the stadium would be packed to the brim in anticipation of that fight—and it was—so they would host three fights today, instead of two.

Another tactic to milk as much money from the bets as possible—more people meant more gambling, which ultimately meant more coin flowing into Raja Thaman’s coffers.

As Vir neared his seat, he noticed Aida had been replaced by someone of greater stature, sticking out from the crowd of Bairans who surrounded them. Vir could take a guess as to their identity. There weren’t many Bairans that large, after all.

“Well fought, lad!” Cirayus roared the moment Vir was up. “That was something else. Had me fooled!”

“And I as well,” the Bairan Clanlord said. 

“Raja Thaman,” Vir said, bowing his head in deference. “I hadn’t expected you here.”

“Just came over to reminisce with my old mentor, is all. Though, I’d best be going.”

“Now?” Cirayus cried. “In the middle of a match? That’s the craziest thing I’ve heard all day. Sit, Thaman. And let us place bets on who will fight Vir.”

Thaman, who had been half out of his seat, hesitated, and sat back down. “Very well. Just this one match, then.”

Vir took a spot next to Cirayus, on the other side. Shan curled up at his feet, and he eyed the wolf warily.

“Your wolf,” Thaman said. “I trust he is well? You left the stage in quite a hurry.”

“I… Yes,” Vir replied. “I may have overreacted. Tara’s field seemed only to have put him to sleep, as she claimed.”

“Indeed,” Thaman said. “You’ve nothing to fear from that girl. She’d never harm your friend.”

“Right,” Vir said, thinking back to all he knew of her. She’d never once displayed that kind of hostility, or shown herself as someone who’d resort to such underhanded means.

It was nothing but paranoia, and so Vir squashed it and focused on the match.

This fight was of interest to Vir, not only because the victor would determine his next opponent, but also because of the contestants. 

Saras, the Aindri with the boar, fought with Annas—a Chitran kothi. 

Vir didn’t know who he wanted to root for. The Aindri? Or the Chitran—so that he’d have the pleasure of driving the monkey into the ground himself.

Finding himself getting worked up, Vir allowed the anger to pass. He had to remind himself that Annas himself had done Vir no wrong. The one he bore ill-will toward was sitting somewhere up there, high up in the Chitran section. The demon responsible for the downfall of the Garga.

Annas, however, might not even have been present during the invasion.

Vir shook his head, clearing the errant thoughts. The match moved quickly, and he’d miss learning his opponent’s ways if he allowed himself these sorts of distractions. Channeling the Foundation Chakra, he once again focused on the match.

To Vir’s surprise, Annas wielded a talwar and a round dhol shield, which was quite different from the equipment he’d carried at the introductory procession.

“He likes to switch between gear to keep his opponents on edge,” Cirayus clarified. “I'd say he fights better with his katars, but he’s not bad with the sword and shield, either.”

Saras, meanwhile, rode atop his armored boar, hefting a spear. The boar was, of course, no mere boar. Vir hadn’t thought the beasts could grow to such size—it must have been raised in close proximity to the Ash, for the animal was nearly as big as an Ash’va.

It was, however, far stronger and more agile than the lumbering beasts of burden could ever dream to be.

Saras circled the arena atop his mount, charging at Annas on a collision, only to break off at the lats moment and dart away while thrusting his spear at Annas’ exposed side.

To his credit, the Chitran expertly defended against these attacks. Instead of panicking in the face of such an enormous beast, he stood his ground, moving only the slightest amount at the last possible moment to avoid the incoming attack. One mistake, and he’d be trampled. 

Vir wasn’t sure what abilities the Chitran possessed, but kothis weren’t known for invincible bodies, unlike the Bairans.

Thus far, Annas had remained on the defensive, making no move to attack.

“Awfully cautious, this one,” Thaman commented.

“He’s probing his enemy,” Cirayus said. “A double-edged sword, that.”

“What do you mean?” Vir asked.

“Every charge gives Annas more information about his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses,” Cirayus said. “How fast is his beast? How quickly can he veer away? What is his range, and how does he like to attack?”

“And he gives away comparatively little,” Vir said.

“Indeed. All Saras learns is that his opponent can avoid his strikes with little effort. The Aindri knows nothing about Annas’ attacks or abilities.”

“So, the double-edged nature…”

“Well, it’s rather obvious, isn’t it? Every attack Annas takes puts him in danger. One slip-up. One misstep. One hidden art from his opponent, and instead of barely dodging, he could find himself gored, or hurled out of the arena.”

“Which means he’s sure of himself.”

“Aye, lad. That is he is. 

“Gold fighting a silver,” Thaman remarked. “And a newly-ranked Silver at that. Little wonder. Annas is a veteran.”

“Well, so is Saras, but the experience gap is simply too great.”

By the way they were talking, it seemed to Vir that both Cirayus and Thaman had written this match off as Annas’ victory.

Though, as Vir knew well, anything could happen in the heat of battle. Even the most battle-hardened veteran could be taken down by a lucky strike.

Annas seemed to have had enough, because upon Saras’ next strike, he struck back. Not with his talwar, but his dhol shield. He struck the boar just as it passed.

The action earned applause and gasps from the audience, but it didn’t strike Vir as anything terribly interesting. The boar hadn’t even seemed to notice the strike, let alone take damage from it. 

Saras came around again, and again, Annas bashed the boar. This time, however, Saras’ spear connected. Driven by the full force of his momentum, it slipped a gap in Annas’ shoulder plate, drawing blood.

“And we have first blood, everyone!” Samik roared. “By Saras, no less!”

“I have to say, Samik, this Aindri is moving better than ever before. He’s almost a different demon from last time!”

The routine continued, with Saras charging, only for Annas to shield bash.

And yet, something had changed. Perhaps because Vir also fought with a beast, he noticed it almost immediately.

“Saras’ boar is getting sluggish,” he said.

“Not quite,” Cirayus replied. “Not sluggish. Fearful.”

“Though the shield may not stop its charge, I don’t doubt getting hit is an uncomfortable experience for the creature,” Thaman commented. “Even the most well-trained animal can’t ignore such an attack.”

“And the reason he used his shield,” Vir said, catching on, ‘is because his talwar wouldn’t penetrate the boar’s armor.

The boar was covered nearly head-to-toe in steel plate. Finding a gap would be difficult when the beast was charging, and attacking the plate would do no good. Rather, Annas relied on the blunt force of his shield to do damage—if not physical, then psychological.

“That is really smart,” Vir admitted. “I don’t know if I’d have thought of that.” 

“You would have if you’ve fought as many demons as Annas, lad,” Cirayus said. “That demon’s got a century fighting our kind under his belt. Your experience is primarily against Ash Beasts.”

It was true, but it was demons Vir would be fighting in this tournament.

And then fortune turned.

Saras, who had been about to charge again, bellowed a roar. To most, it may have looked benign, but to Prana Vision, it was anything but. Vir saw the telltale blast of Earth prana emanate from the demon.

The animal’s transformation was a sight to behold. 

Vir had expected the beast to become rejuvenated, or perhaps accelerate or grow mor aggressive.

It did all of this, only to a degree Vir couldn’t have guessed.

“Did it just… Blink?” Vir asked, mouth agape.

The beast had blurred from sight, and it was as if its prior fear was nothing but a distant memory. Annas was knocked off his feet, but before he could land, the beast gored him again. And again.

And every time, Annas was driven closer and closer to the edge of the stage. The kothi was tossed like a child’s plaything, and without serious prana reinforcement, there was no way Annas would emerge unscathed.

“He’s… going to lose?” Vir breathed in disbelief. It seemed impossible. Annas had handily dominated the fight the entire time, and now…

Vir shuddered. Would he be able to counter such explosive movement arts? He couldn’t know until they faced off.

And then Warlord’s Domain activated, and the battle ended faster than Vir could’ve ever guessed.

The rampaging beast slowed just a bit—just before it smashed into Annas again. That instant—that split-second was enough. The Chitran grabbed the beast’s head, swung himself around, up, and over, and kicked Saras cleanly off. 

The force of the impact was equal to the boar’s speed, and with as close to the edge of the arena as they were, Saras landed in the dirt several paces outside, rolling and tumbling to a stop, where he lay unmoving.

“Winnneerrrrrrrr, Annaaaaas!”

Vir’s jaw clenched. It seemed the next bout would be Chitran versus Garga. For the sake of his unrepresented people, Vir resolved himself to win.

So focused was his zeal, so single-minded was his determination, that he failed to notice the heavy, labored breaths the wolf by his feet was trying so desperately to conceal.