Dragon Ball X
Guardians of Tranquility
Hi there.
Yeah, if you read my pokemon story Passion for Glory, you'd know that I'm meant to be doing my NaNoWriMo, writing a 50,000 words in a month. Well, I was doing well, keeping up with my word counts and all that. But the stress-load was incredible and I began to fall behind on my assignments, having to take an entire day off school to finish them. So, I've unfortunately decided to stop the NaNoWriMo, but not the novel. I'm still writing it, just not in a month.
Anyway, that means I can pay attention to my other fics again, so I'm gonna do a chapter of this. Feel lucky ;)
Anyway, on with the chapter!
000
"How long do we have?" asked Blitzo, and Kenta looked at the watch on his arm.
"Still forty-five minutes until the tournament. Forty until they reveal who's fighting who. I can't wait to find out who my opponent is."
Zeang smiled. "Sorry, Kenta, but they only reveal who the first pair is. Before each match they do a draw. You don't find out until the beginning of your match who you're fighting."
Kenta sagged his shoulders, looking mopey. "How do you know that?"
"It's in the competitor's handbook. I suppose you didn't read it?"
The three of them were walking down one of the corridors in the stadium, weaving around small groups of people. Some were competitors preparing for the tournament, but most were spectators waiting for the tournament to begin. Excitement ran rampant in the air; you could almost smell it.
"Nope. Let's just get this food and get back to the others."
After volunteering to pick up snacks, they'd left the rest of the group in the Fighter's Barracks, and now found themselves wandering the hallways of the stadium rim.
Zeang clapped his hands. "So…ready? All prepared for the bouts?"
Kenta nodded, but Blitzo just smirked cockily. "Not that we needed to really train at all. The only threat is each other."
Kenta and Zeang both nodded in agreement. "Of course," added Blitzo. "You know who's the most dangerous to fight."
Kenta looked grim. "Of course I do; Ferris."
"Yes," replied Zeang. "You're stronger than him normally, Blitzo, but he has an advantage over everybody."
"The Kaio-Ken."
"Yes. What an ability…Even after these years I still find it difficult to comprehend just how impressive a technique it is. To be able to double your power at will; at his level he could destroy Denkuma in an instant."
Blitzo frowned. If there was one thing a Saiyan hated, it was knowing that someone else was stronger than them. Generally gentle and respecting as he was, Blitzo's Saiyan instincts ran deep in his blood, the fierce nature of his warrior race still present.
"The Kaio-Ken…" he said thoughtfully. "It reminds me of that old legend. The Super Saiyan."
"Huh?" Kenta had never heard the term, and was confused. Zeang smiled at the memory, and explained.
"A Super Saiyan was said to possess tremendous power far beyond his normal limits. According to the legend, one hasn't appeared for a thousand years, but there's no proof that they ever existed. Most Saiyans discard it as a folly myth."
Kenta frowned. "Super Saiyan, huh? What do you think, Blitzo, do you believe in it?"
Blitzo smiled sadly. "To be honest, I don't even know. I definitely used to when I was a kid, but I guess I don't anymore. Most of us just used it to taunt Saiyans who thought they were strong."
He started as a memory flashed back to him. In his last conversation with a Saiyan other than Makurin or Rhuna, Bardock had joked about Super Saiyans with him. As always, he felt a twinge in his heart as he thought about his old friend.
Kenta spoke again. "These Super Saiyans remind me of an old Havien legend, actually. Pretty similar - can't remember what they were called, though. Anyway, they were said to have enormous strength as well."
Blitzo smirked. "Well, Zeang? We've covered Saiyans and Haviens. Do the Gakusha have any fabled warriors?"
For a second, Kenta was confused, before he recalled that Zeang's race was called the Gakusha. It didn't come up in conversation too much…
Zeang shook his head. "Nope. Just good honest-to-goodness training. Some of the elders were said to have extremely powerful minds though…Now come on, let's get this food and head back to the barracks."
"Can do," said Blitzo eagerly, rubbing his hands together. "Nothing like a good meal before some old-fashioned ass-kicking."
Kenta laughed. "You've got that right."
000
Arnika frowned as she looked at the man on the other side of the room. He'd been eyeing her for some time now, a hungry look in his face, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.
The man was remarkably skinny for a fighter, and wore no shirt. He packed a punch though, savagely attacking a punching bag in the barracks. His speed was admirable.
"Well," thought Arnika as she surveyed the man. "Admirable for a regular Havien, anyway…"
The Fighting Barracks was a mixture of a waiting room and a practise arena, located around the main ring in the centre of the stadium. Above the roof of the Barracks were the grandstands, and even this early before the matches begun you could hear the sounds of hundreds for people fighting for good seats.
The ring itself was a massive rectangular arena made of grey tiles, surrounded by a large moat of bright green grass. The rules were simple; if you fell out of the arena and touched the grass, you were out and lost the match. Other ways to lose were by being beaten unconscious, disqualification, and of course, forfeiting.
This close to the beginning of the tournament, all of the competitors – about one hundred of them – were waiting in the Barracks for the pairings to be announced. Some were resting, others were training. And in the case of Ferris, Mataro, Rhuna, and Makurin, chatting to each other while waiting for Kenta, Blitzo and Zeang to return with food. Accompanying them was Arnika. While normally only competitors were allowed in the Barracks, Arnika had used her influence and wealth to obtain a Gateway Pass, allowing her to access virtually any area of the stadium.
And now, while the others chatted casually, she found herself being stared at by this man. His sneering rat face was covered by rough stubble, and he had disgusting crooked teeth. Arnika gave up playing the looking game, and called across the room to him.
"Do you want something? I'm taken, you know," she said in disdain.
The man smiled a leering sneer, and swaggered over. Arnika wrinkled her nose. He smelled of sweat. The others looked around as he approached, but didn't seem alarmed. Arnika could handle herself, they all knew.
"Taken, ay?" said the man. "Well, no surprise there, little miss. What're ya doing down here with the brutes? Maybe ya'd like to come and cheer for me instead. The name's Jan Binks. I'm much more of a gentleman than anyone else in this tournament."
Arnika raised an eyebrow, her green pupils staring in dull indifference. "Really?" she answered sarcastically. "Well, in that case I definitely want to be your girlfriend."
Binks scowled at her, and began to grab her arm. Arnika slapped the hand away, taking extreme care to not injure his fingers. Binks made a face, laughing.
"I like you," he said. "You're a tricky one as well as pretty. Come on, don't you want to cheer for me in the tournament?"
He reached for her arm again, but stopped very suddenly as he felt a cold steel at his neck, and a razor sharp pain nicking at the skin there. Arnika looked over his shoulder.
"Allow me to introduce you to a real live gentleman," she said. "Too bad he's only gentle without his knives. Glad you could make it, Geani."
"The pleasure's all mine," said the newcomer, wiggling the dagger he held at Bink's throat. "This fellow giving you any trouble?"
Arnika tilted her head, looking at Binks, who gazed frightfully back, his confidence disappearing in an instant at this occurrence. "Not really. Just a bit annoying."
Geani nodded. One of the Eternal Warriors who had fought Denkuma, Geani was a master swordsman and blacksmith, the unofficial leader of the Eternal Warriors. As always, he wore rough leather belts, though had forsaken his usual twin knife belts for today, bringing only a single dagger, which he now held against Binks' windpipe, threatening to drag it across and end the man's career (not to mention life). "I thought so."
"Hey!" whimpered Binks, trying to inch to the side, but Geani held him fast with his free hand. "You're not allowed weapons in here, they're banned in the tournament!"
"Exactly," answered Geani, and shoved Binks away from him, before spinning his knife from its reversed grip and sliding it back into its single scabbard. Binks stumbled a few metres, falling to his knees. Terrified, he scrambled back to his feet, pointing wildly at the swordsman, who continued. "They are banned from the tournament, but I'm not in the tournament, am I now?"
He glanced at Arnika. "Thanks for the spare Gateway Pass, by the way. Arasha will be along soon."
"No problem, Geani," said Arnika, and the two of them turned to walk back to the others, but as they passed Binks, Arnika stopped, looking with sadistic pleasure at him. He stared back, the confidence before replaced with fear and bewilderment.
"Oh, by the way," she said, and stuck two fingers up his nose, one in each nostril. Binks yelled in pain as Arnika's fingers dug into the sensitive cartilage in his inner nose, and had to stand on his toes as she tugged upwards, pulling him up. Binks marvelled at her strength; she didn't even look to be trying. "Don't ask me that again. I don't really like watching buffoons."
She released her fingers from his nostrils and kept walking, joining her companions, as Binks clawed painfully at his nose, whimpering and backing away. He quickly disappeared to another part of the Barracks, wanting to get away from this woman as quickly as possible.
Arnika giggled. "That was fun!"
000
The hundred or so fighters (plus Arnika, Geani, Arasha, and Zeang) gathered eagerly around a large board on the wall of the Fighters Barracks. Behind them was a large doorway, leading into a hallways which eventually opened to the arena. It was time for the pairings to begin. Whoever was picked for the fight would go through the archway and the match would commence. Two officials stood beside the board, one of them holding a large stack of cards.
"Alright, listen up!" he called. "The first match begins in five minutes." He picked the top two cards, and everybody held their breath. "And the competitors in the first match are…"
He slapped the first card onto the board, where it stuck in place, probably held up by some magnetic force. Blitzo – standing at the back of the crowd with the others, largely unconcerned, smirked as he read the name on the card.
"Well, I'm up first. How about that?" he said, and yawned. Kenta looked at him in jealousy. Makurin just grunted. Like Blitzo, he found the notion of going first to be an irrelevant one.
"But who's your opponent?" asked Ferris, slightly more interested, but not by much. He was more interested in his own fight, whenever it would be.
Once again, the crowd held their breath as the official raised the second card, before placing it dramatically up on the board beside Blitzo's.
"What?" Blitzo's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he read the name, and Arnika gasped. "Already?"
"It seems so," said Zeang. "Good luck to both of you."
Blitzo glanced behind him at his opponent. Mataro - an Eternal Warrior and a fierce melee combatant – was no pushover. Despite his large frame, he was pretty darn fast; his training in the Gravity Room for the past five years had seen to that.
"Should be fun," said Blitzo, and Mataro winked.
"That it will be, young Saiyan. I was actually rather hoping I'd be able to fight you."
Together, with every eye on them, the two turned towards the entrance hallway, and side-by-side they began to walk, always under the scrutiny of everyone in the room. Blitzo felt his blood begin to pump harder and harder as he prepared for the –
Quite suddenly, the two opponents stopped walking, both of them pulled back by the same force. Blitzo gagged as his short tightened around his neck, pulled from behind. As they had begun to walk to their match, Geani had quickly stepped forward and pulled them back, and was now holding them both by the backs of their collars.
"Listen up, knuckleheads," he said quietly. "We don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, so tone the fight down a little, OK? Don't go all out and don't start zipping around in the air. No flying, you understand?"
Grimacing, they both nodded, and Geani let go, sending the two fighters on their way again. Each started the way they'd left off, dramatically striding into the hallway, each trying to make himself look more important and badass than the other.
"God I look awesome," thought Blitzo as he walked.
"Fighting's only half the battle," thought Mataro, deliberately stretching up to his full height. "Showmanship counts."
"What the hell are they doing?" thought Arnika, an embarrassed bead of sweat running down her neck.
"They look like fools," muttered Arasha. The third member of the Eternal Warriors had arrived a few minutes after Geani, wearing the same leather armour as he did, only black instead of brown. Her piercing violet eyes stared with chagrin after her two companions.
"Come on," said Kenta. "Let's get to the grandstands so we can watch the fight!"
"I'm down," said Rhuna. "Let's go."
000
Bright sunlight seared into Blitzo's eyes as he and Mataro emerged from the tunnel into the arena. Surrounding them on all sides was at least six thousand people, all of them screaming and cheering as the first combatants arrived. TV cameras lined the edge of the crowd, and an announcer stood by the ring, microphone in hand. Already he was screaming into it, only causing the crowd to cheer louder as he declared their names.
"You've seen him before in movies such as The Clockbolt, Round the Keyhole, and My Aunt's Constipation, but I better you never knew he could fight!" boomed the announcer, and Mataro winced. That last movie had been a rather embarrassing one, especially since it was based on a real story. "Here he is, ladies and gentlemen – Mataro Fenix!"
The crowd swelled in pride, letting out a massive cheer in unison. Mataro was pretty well-known these days, and was a fan favourite.
"And facing him is a newcomer to the Martial Arts Tournament; husband of billionaire Arnika Hale, he's a self-proclaimed martial-arts expert. Let's find out if he's telling the truth! Give it up for Blitzo Hale!"
Blitzo's cheer was noticeable less enthusiastic, but the knowledge of his relationship to Arnika gave him some recognition. Blitzo scowled at the announcer.
"Self-proclaimed expert?" he scoffed. "I'll self-proclaim him a new arse if he wants."
Mataro chuckled. "It's just to get the crowd rolling. Now it's our turn."
They reached the ring itself, stepping up onto the tiles and splitting up, positioning themselves on either end of the arena. Blitzo could feel the bloodlust surging through his body, lighting his veins on fire, but he forced his Saiyan instincts down.
"Let the match begin!"
At the edge of the stadium, Arnika and Kenta forced their way into the front line of the crowd, the siblings equally excited about watching the fight. Travelling less urgently behind them were the others, lining up behind the barrier of the grandstand to watch their friends duke it out. Geani had his arms folded.
"Go Blitzo!" shouted Arnika. "Show him who's the top Saiyan around here!"
Rhuna and Makurin rolled their eyes at each other.
Blitzo could feel his instincts growing stronger, and began struggling to repress them. He hadn't had a decent fight in months; he had to let it all out.
"I can't fly in this match," he thought, thinking of Geani's warning, and crouched down, ready to spring. The Saiyan held his arms across his body at perpendicular angles, elbows tucked in. "He wouldn't be happy if I draw too much attention to our strength. Better just stick to jumps and speed."
Across from him, Mataro furrowed his brow. Blitzo was a formidable opponent; after all, he'd been the one to kill Denkuma, who'd easily bested Mataro himself. But five years of training in a very useful gravity chamber did wonders for one's muscles. Mataro had doubled his strength and speed in the past five years.
Slowly, the crowd's cheers died down as they waited for the fighters to move. What was taking so long? The referee had started the match. Fight already!
And then, to the amazement of every single person in the audience, Blitzo disappeared from sight entirely, fading into a blur of lines before vanishing completely. More than one draw dropped.
As one, the crowd gasped in shock as Blitzo reappeared, directly behind Mataro. He still was still in his crouching position, facing the same way that he'd been before, his back to Mataro. Even Geani and Arasha raised their eyebrows in surprise.
"So fast!" muttered Makurin, furious. Blitzo's increasing abilities were beyond his. "How does he do it, damn him?"
Mataro's eyes shot open at the manoeuvre, but he was too astonished to make one of his own, only turning his head to look behind him.
"Wha-!"
A cry tore from Blitzo - drowning out Mataro's shocked gasp - and he rocketed around, leaping off his left foot and kicking with all the energy he could muster with his right. His booted foot slammed into Mataro's cheek.
The sheer force of the blow staggered Mataro both physically and mentally. He was hurled through the air like a limp rag-doll, but rolled as soon as he landed, recovering quickly. But despite his quick landing he was panting heavily, staring at Blitzo with reverence. The Saiyan had spun in the air from the momentum after landing the kick, and was back into his crouching position, arms still splayed at right angles.
"What speed," thought Mataro, impressed. "I could barely even see him. He's been training in that area alright…But so have I!"
And moving just as quickly as Blitzo had, Mataro vanished as well, zooming across the ring until he was crouched right next to Blitzo. The Saiyan gasped; he hadn't expected Mataro to retaliate in kind, and yelled as the Slavoan Warrior smashed his elbow into the side of Blitzo's head.
Like Mataro, Blitzo was knocked right off his feet by the impact, sliding roughly across the tiles before halting. He climbed slowly to his feet, working his jaw.
"Not bad, old friend," he said, grinning.
"You too."
The crowd watched in stunned silence at the two fighters. They'd never seen anything like it, these guys were beyond anything. And in that moment, there was no doubt whatsoever that Mataro did his own stunts in his movies.
Even the announcer was gobsmacked; he just stared silently, the microphone forgotten.
"Finally, that moron has shut up," said Ferris, and Kenta laughed, but then his eyes widened.
"What the -!"
BOOM!
There was a loud shockwave as Mataro and Blitzo's fists slammed together. The two fighters themselves couldn't be seen, they were moving so fast. Several more shocks followed, all around the ring, as the Saiyan and the Havien collided again and again. Finally, they ceased, and Blitzo and Mataro became visible to the naked eye again.
They stood in the centre of the arena, exchanging blows one by one. Kenta watched in awe as their arms darted back and forth, slicing through the air and being blocked or intercepted. He winced as Mataro took a crushing blow to the chest, and then again as Blitzo copped it in the stomach.
"It's like they don't feel pain!" he thought as they continued unfettered. They didn't even seem to notice being hit.
Blitzo grinned wildly as he fought, relying on sheer instinct and reflexes to know where the next strike would come from. He struck out, catching Mataro on the chin. The Havien grinned back.
"I haven't had a fight this good in months!" he shouted, and Blitzo shook his head.
"Neither have I!"
He lashed out again, but this time, Mataro didn't even attempt to block, ducking down and twisting instead. Blitzo's instincts yelled at him, and he scissored over Mataro's outstretched leg. Focussing entirely on the sweep, however, he missed the next attack, and was blown back several metres as Mataro's other foot slammed into his abdomen.
"Not bad," he yelled, skidding over the tiles, and concentrated, sending a flow of his energy into his palms. "Catch!"
Two ki balls formed in his hands, summoned from his very body, and he hurled them wildly at Mataro, who sprinted forward. As the ki balls reached him, he swept them away with two well-timed chops, and put the base of his hands together, wrists touching and palms facing forward. One large ki balls sprung from his own hands, at least three times as big as Blitzo's.
The Saiyan laughed in the thrill of the fight as Mataro's ki orb hummed through the air towards him, and caught it, before throwing it high above him, where it exploded in the sky. Less than a second later, his arms still above his head in the act of tossing the ball, Mataro reached him.
"Yargh!" the man bellowed, arm tearing through the space between them. It caused the very air itself to ripple, and thundered into Blitzo, knocking the Saiyan back for the second time.
Blitzo grimaced in sudden apprehension as he saw the edge of the arena a few metres away, and forced his body to the ground using his ki, stopping about four feet from the edge. The green grass stared at him as he crouched on one knee, one hand held beside his leg on the tiles. It had been close. The second a competitor touched the ground outside of the ring itself, they lost.
And then, as Blitzo looked back to Mataro, a plan immediately formed in his mind. Mataro was once again running towards him, arm held back. A glowing ball of energy was suspended in it.
"This is it," said Zeang. "I can sense it. Whether Mataro lands this hit or not, the fight will be over in thirty seconds."
Ferris looked at him. "How do you know?"
"Blitzo has that look in his eye," said Makurin, and Rhuna nodded.
And just as Mataro reached within a metre distance and thrust downwards with the ball of ki, Blitzo shot up from his crouch, leaping over Mataro's head. As he flew, his knee collided with Mataro's forehead, sending a wave of pain across the man's entire body. He lost control of the orb, and it disappeared, fading away as Mataro's concentration was shattered.
Blitzo somersaulted and landed, before spinning and jumping backwards. Mataro had straightened up and turned just at the wrong time, and Blitzo's foot impacted on the man's jaw, throwing him off the edge of the arena and flying over the grass, two metres out.
"Blitzo won!" gasped Arnika, but it wasn't over yet.
For Blitzo had predicted one more thing; after over five hundred years of training, Mataro's instincts would be dominant, whether he willed it or not. And so, just as Blitzo knew he would, Mataro involuntary threw his ki beneath him, holding himself above the grass.
The man opened his eyes, gasping. It had been a reflex action to stop himself from hitting the ground, but it was too late to stop it. He was flying, and in a few seconds people would notice.
He didn't have to worry for long.
Because after Blitzo had knocked Mataro out of the ring, he had leapt out himself, jumping at least three metres into the air. The crowd gasped in shock as Blitzo performed another somersault to gain momentum, before coming down with a crash, slamming his feet squarely in Mataro's stomach, crushing the man into the ground.
And there they were, Mataro lying on the grass, completely out of the ring, and Blitzo, balancing on top of him, using his opponent to stop himself from touching the ground.
There was silence for at least five seconds, before the announcer recovered. "INCREDIBLE! Blitzo Hale has defeated Mataro in the very first round, earning himself another bout. Give him a cheer, folks!"
And in response, the crowd did what crowds do best, raising to their feet and roaring their guts out. Blitzo allowed himself a few seconds of glory before stepping off Mataro and pulling his friend to his feet.
Mataro grunted as he stood, dusting himself off, before giving a weary grin.
"Congrats, Blitzo. Whoo, you did a number on me."
Blitzo gestured towards the cheering crowd. "So much for discreet, eh?"
Mataro gave his normal booming laugh, clapping Blitzo on the shoulder. "Geani's gonna have our heads on a platter."
They turned and walked side by side back to the Fighters Barracks, as the next two competitors walked out. Blitzo frowned. There was only one. A scrawny man, with no shirt and a sneering rat face. Arnika had pointed him out before. Jan Binks, or something.
After reaching the safety of the tunnel leading back to the Barracks, Blitzo turned back to the arena, and saw the other fighter walking onto the raised ring. Blitzo's mouth dropped open in shock.
The other fighter was tall, with no hair. He had pale skin that was bordering on white, and it had a sickly looking blue tinge to it.
And he was wearing yellow battle armour.
The kind used by both the Saiyans and members of the World Trade Organisation.
Instantly, Blitzo froze in shock, a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck, but it had nothing to do with the exertion of the fight.
"They found us…"
It had been six years since Planet Vegeta had been destroyed. For six years they'd lived free from the evil rule of Frieza. But now, it seemed…no longer.
"And next up, we have the wiry Jan Binks! He may look puny, but he packs a punch, folks. But who's this he's up against? Well, he says his name is Primal, and with that armor and those muscles, we weren't going to ask for more. Give it up for our next fighters!"
The fighter with the battle armour glared fiercely around at the people in the crowd, who ignored his expression and cheered anyway. And then, the warrior looked past Binks and saw Blitzo, who was still standing in the doorway, frozen at this revelation.
Primal's fierce black eyes widened in surprise as well.
"He's recognised me…" thought Blitzo. "He knows that I'm a Saiyan. What's he doing here? Could he have actually been tracking us? Does he actually work for Frieza?"
"Let the match begin!"
Binks pounced forwards, dancing nimbly around, fists raised.
"Bring it, sucker!" he cackled. "I'm gonna teach you who's the top dog around her-URGH!"
Blitzo gasped as Primal lashed out. He hadn't taken his eye off Blitzo for a second, wordlessly swiping his hand and backhanding Binks across the face. The bare-chested fighter hurricaned through the air, blown right out of the ring in a single blow. The crowd was completely silent, as the announcer stuttered into the microphone.
"B-But…W-Wow, folks. K-knocked out in a single hit. Who is this guy, h-huh?"
Primal ignored the crowd's horrified expressions and the announcers attempt to break the tension, merely staring into Blitzo's eyes. Suddenly, his head tilted a complete ninety degrees, turning horizontal, and a sadistic grin burst onto Primal's face.
"Soon, Saiyan," the smile seemed to say. "Soon it will be your turn…"
000
Wah? Who is this Primal guy? He sure is strong…but is he working for Frieza? What are his real intentions, and what is he doing on Haven?
I'm glad I got this chapter down. I've been working unsuccessfully on that fight for weeks, writing and then deleting, writing and deleting. I just couldn't get it good when they couldn't fly. Luckily Naruto inspired me, and I came up with that. Pretty good in the end, I reckon. Kudos to me!
And so much for 3000-4000 words, eh? More like 5000. Strangely, this only took me about 4-5 hours to write the whole thing, showing how little effort I really put into putting aside time to write...Oh well...
Anyway, stay tuned. The action is only just beginning…
