Fallenshade VS Sapphire Enclave

…

The next day he woke before dawn and worked out in the courtyard, the stone still cool underfoot. When it came time for the second day of the guild tournament, they were led to their seats and listened to another of the king’s speeches.

The plan was to finish the guild competition today—unless a team suffered too many injuries to recover within a few hours, in which case they’d add a day.

In the third round the previously seeded guild finally joined: the Sapphire Enclave and were first up against Fallenshade.

They filed down: Fallenshade’s five facing Sapphire Enclave’s eight—three women and five men, mostly human, with a young dwarven male and an elven woman among them. All were clad in quality gear and carried themselves with the attitude of a high-ranked guild.

Before Joseph could speak, Han set the order. “Joseph, I’m assuming you want to go first again?” He nodded back so Han continued. “In that case, I was thinking that so long as nothing happens you may as well do all of them. We’ll save our strength for the solo rounds, gives us a slight edge we could use.”

The others nodded in agreement. Han then turned to Che. “How about you go up with him, get used to the stage and the pressure.”

Firmly nodding she turned to Joseph, wanting to confirm it was alright, who shrugged back not minding.

When the timer ran out, Joseph and Che stepped onto the solid platform, the wear from yesterday’s bouts vanished into a smooth surface once again. Opposite: two men—one with a sword and long black hair, the other with a shining glaive and restless red bangs.

Cedrid's hand dropped. “Begin!”

They moved in sync, skills flaring, footwork truly random—no predictable zigzags. Joseph didn’t like the odds of landing a blind dome clean, so he changed the terrain.

A concrete wall sprang up between them, cutting line of sight. Forcing them either over or out of the ring to reach him. With his spirit senses activated, he could personally get a faint outline behind the wall of their location.

Waiting for the right moment, a small section of the wall burst open, the sharp glaive busting through the left most part of the wall.

Unfortunately, it was too late, that moment of slowness needed to produce an attack, allowed him time to set pre-cast a barrier, combined with a moderately high charge shooting out from his other hand.

In that split second, the opposing two, was down to one. With the swordsman leaping through the air on the other side, hoping for a pincer play he was now left alone. Landing on the ground, the swordsman gained his bearings and altered the plan, changing directions straight towards Che.

However, another thin pillar shot out the ground. The swordsman scoffed and easily maneuvered around it but, at the same exact moment a thin extension came out from the bottom of the pillar.

Cracking off upon impact with his foot, the swordsman lost his balance and that moment of slowness sealed his fate like the other. A water dome and shock combo attack.

“Fallenshade wins.”

Joseph and Che stayed on to no one’s surprise. Two women approached next: a mage with a wand and a dagger fighter. Joseph shifted plans, wanting to test a new magic. The instant the match started a strong wind kicked up in the arena.

The mage, controlling the winds launched forth a strong whirling gale, visible to the naked eye by green energy streaks mixed into the wind. Joseph immediately raised a concrete pillar in its path, scattering the wind upon impact.

While that happened, the dagger user didn’t stay still. Merging into the background like a misty mirage, she dashed forth with extreme speed, a speed much higher than he’s seen before.

With hawk like eyes focused on him, and a slash of solidified wind slicing his pillar in half, many in the audience held their breath.

But it was for nothing, taping his staff to the ground, the smooth surface turned soft and black. Squelching immediately sounded out, the misty figure stuck as though her feet were a part of the ground, the black sludge too strong for her to overcome.

With a wave of his staff, she became surrounded in concrete, engulfed in darkness and the outside sounds muffled.

With another swing, a wave of wind surged to push him back, but his feet glowed faintly, anchoring him to the ground. A floating lance of concrete then formed, with its large cone shaped tip and sturdy, hollow handle cradling a small orb of blue and white, many held their breaths in anticipation.

Sensing the threat, the mage summoned a wall of wind—a tornado-like barrier, not unlike Joseph’s own water dome. But as a sharp bang rang out, the lance’s shaft shattered, and the cone-tip shot forward through the air.

Wind versus a pointed lance of concrete glowing with spirit power, the winner was obvious. The tip tore through the wall of wind, and on the far side a bloodied figure was driven into the wall, a gaping wound in her stomach.

Gasps rippled through the arena as medics rushed in. She was already out, and with a faint ping the concrete lance was yanked free and tossed aside.

Joseph turned his attention toward the concrete box and summoned a dozen spikes aimed at the legs within. A muffled cry of pain followed. He shifted his gaze to Cedrid, who stared at the box with glowing eyes before waving his hand. “Sapphire Enclave is unable to battle, Fallenshade wins.”

The last two bouts proved simpler. Though stronger on paper, the opponents relied on familiar weapons and predictable, straight-line attacks. Joseph used the matches to showcase the breadth of his magic, holding nothing back in regard to his mana and spirit reserves.

Against another swordsman and the elven archer, he carpeted the ground with the sticky tar once again. While the Swordsman fared better due to his strength, once a few concrete nails shot out the ground and through his foot, anchoring him to the ground further, they both forfeited.

For the closer: a magic swordsman and a dwarf with a great hammer, both heavily armored with full plate metal. Joseph waved a cloud of glittering dust across the field, controlling the wind to drive through every crack in their armor.

Their eyes immediately watered, shutting tight, their lungs burned, and as they forced their mouths closed, their outer skin reeked of sweat. Skin tightened, wrinkling fast like dried fruit, their strength leaking away as globs of thick water clung to their armor.

It was dust made to act like a desiccant — the kind of substance that drags water out of anything it touches. Weaponized, it stripped them dry in only a minute.

By the time they forfeited they looked like shriveled elders, muscles flat and papery. Ugly, but temporary: water and a day of healing would fix it.

Joseph looked over their bodies and the crowd’s reaction with a pleased look. Plan achieved: decisive, varied, surprising.

Back in the seats, a servant offered a mana potion, a concoction made of materials with naturally high mana. Combined with other ingredients, it was a drink that allowed for the rapid absorption of said mana into the body.

Joseph accepted, as that last attack drained most of his mana. After that, the next three matches flew by. With the numbers evening out, they soon witnessed all-out battles: guild against guild.