"So you said your future matches have no rules. What does that mean?"

Technoblade lifted his arm to make it easier for Ranboo to reach around and help him latch the leather armor into place. It was a newer set that hadn't been worn down as much by other fighters' use, yet it still didn't fit properly. The rough hoglin hide sat too tight around his chest while moving loosely at his wrists and knees. Techno hadn't questioned their choice of material, he could respect symbolism when he saw it.

"I'd say it means exactly what you think it does, Ranboo." He pulled back when the other was done fixing the straps, rotating his shoulder to test the armor's sturdiness.

Ranboo stretched from his bent position with a frown, then went back over to the bench to resume cleaning a box of rusty old swords a handler had tasked him with. Technoblade knew Ranboo had asked for a chore in the armory despite hating the place specifically to be able to be present for the preparations. Hearing that Techno had been upgraded from pre-game matches to the main show had made him nervous.

Other fighters hung around the armory, also getting prepared. Sharpening their weaponry with care, no more blunt swords or dull axes. This was the real deal. Ranboo had glanced at them apprehensively more than once.

There were no rules against killing people during the advanced events. It wasn't encouraged to do so either – the arena would run out of trophy fighters rather quickly if that were the case. But you could incapacitate your opponent in any way you saw fit, with no consideration of whether the injuries might turn out to be fatal. Techno turned the netherite sword over in his hand. The blade had perfect edges, honed with a wet-stone mere hours before. He could cut through unarmored skin as if it were wet paper with this thing.

"That's still not very fair," Ranboo said. He used the sandpaper in his hand to gesture with. "I mean, not all the fighters have the same equipment and weapons. Pros get to take their own items into the ring, while slaves have to fight with what they're given."

"I think that's the point," Technoblade answered at the same moment Ranboo muttered a discontented "I guess that would be the point though" under his breath. Techno heard the crowd's screeching and a loud horn signaling the previous fight was over. The referee in charge of the matches today gestured to let him know he was up next.

Quickly, he refastened his hair into a bun to keep it out of his face during battle. "Ranboo, do you think the odds were always fair back in Hypixel?"

"I know they weren't." Ranboo stared at the sword in his lap, odd-colored eyes reflected in the freshly polished steel as he glared. "That doesn't make it okay."

Techno didn't have a rebuttal to that. Maybe because he agreed, or maybe because there was something to be admired about Ranboo's naive idealism.

Technoblade just wasn't the right person to do so.

He didn't recognize the guy until they were both halfway across the pitch, standing opposite each other before the match. Their hair had been cut shorter and their face sported a new scar that ran perpendicular to their jawline across their cheek. But despite the changes, they were definitely the same man Techno had fought during his very first battle in the arena.

Judging by the vicious smile on their face they must have known ahead of time who they were going up against – perhaps they had even requested it. They circled Techno like a predator would circle their prey, making a spectacle out of it. They hadn't lost their taste for theatrics, at least.

"We meet again, sir pig." They spread their arms and bowed mockingly, shifting the sword in their grip with a bit more ease. Technoblade could tell they had been training. Perhaps they'd even put up a decent fight this time. "I want you to know I've been looking forward to this."

Techno turned his head to stare at the audience on the benches, enjoying the show. "Yeah, who were you again?" He tried not to laugh at how easy it was to raise their hackles when they visibly deflated at his disinterest.

A horn that signaled their cue to begin interrupted their rebuttal and the man pushed off on one leg, charging with less reluctance than before. Technoblade got into a position to parry them. The time for fooling around was over, he had a fight to win.

gg ez
blood for the blood god
E
E
I seriously don't even remember this guy lol

Despite how much more forceful their strikes had become, Techno still didn't have a hard time dodging their sword. Nevertheless, their movements had improved in fluidity and speed, so they had an easier time managing Techno's counters as well. He wouldn't say they were evenly matched, but he had to put some actual effort into responding to the attacks thrown at him.

When their swords met next, both fighters pushed forward and forced each other into a stalemate. The man grinned, vicious eyes scrunched together. "I'm going to have you regret making a fool of me on the day we met."

"I don't think I was the one making a fool of you dude," Techno drawled. "You were doing a fine job at that yourself."

Face darkening, they drew back. Techno was still pushing so he adjusted his foothold and thrust this blade against theirs, angling downward. The satisfying sound of fabric ripping was followed by their pained hiss as blood started pouring from a cut in their arm.

"Fuck!" They jumped back, fist curling into their sleeve. Surging forward again, Techno raised to catch their attack as he had done earlier. Normally, this would be the moment he could overpower them with ease, but when he got close enough to be within arm's reach they dug into their pocket.

Technoblade barely had time to blink before they shucked a small glass vial at his face.

It shattered against his sword, liquid raining down on him. The man had already jumped away, holding their free arm in front of their face to cover their eyes with their clothing. Techno understood why when he felt his own eyes starting to sting from the potion's fumes.

Closing them didn't help. The faint prickling only grew until his eyes were burning and his sight started to blur. Techno rubbed at them, but it only served to make them hurt more when the poison dug deeper into the soft tissue.

He couldn't see anything, vision reduced to a swirl of black.

"I wouldn't get distracted if I were you!" the man laughed. Technoblade could hear their boots sinking into the sand, knowing when to throw up his sword and block. Unable to tell where they were aiming for meant he had to rely on guesswork to predict where they would strike. The chest area was the largest target he could think of so that was where Techno tried to deflect.

The sudden pain of their blade cutting into his thigh proved him mistaken.

Stumbling back he heard the man advance on him quickly, emboldened by their self-made advantage. Techno didn't know how long the blindness potion would last, but surely it would be long enough for them to make quick work of him if he didn't figure something out fast. He barely managed to catch a slice aimed at his throat, only anticipating it by the sound of netherite cutting through air. The voices were silenced for once, and distantly Techno was grateful for their awareness of the situation. He needed his hearing more than ever now.

Not that it made any difference since their next strike was too sudden for him to parry without his vision anyway.

Pain wasn't the first thing that registered. Instead, Techno felt an uncomfortable wetness – sticky and warm. It spread across his chest and when he exhaled it was his lungs that brushed against the sword's sharper edges. His opponent pulled their weapon out of his ribcage. Techno sank onto his knees.

The metallic taste of blood forced its way up his throat. He coughed, each inhale becoming more labored than the previous one. A foot slammed into his side, the swish of the sword coming down again above him. With instinctive strength and reflexes honed by war, Technoblade threw himself sideways only in the nick of time, rolling out of the crossfire. Their attack dug into the ground instead of between his shoulder blades.

Before they could attempt again he kicked them. The man yelped, grip loosening around the sword still stuck in the sand. A second kick send them sprawling on the ground beside him and - still blinded but determined not to let that stop him - Techno grappled his way on top of them.

no weapons?
E
blood for the Blood God
E
technohurt
just beat the shit out of him

Only a strangled shriek made its way up their throat when Technoblade curled both fists into the front of their tunic. He pulled them up as far as he could go while his lungs were straining for air he couldn't get inside them, then slammed their head down with all his strength. Again and again he did it, until he couldn't feel them struggle underneath him anymore and their arms had gone limp against the ground.

When they finally went still he stopped. The audience was screaming, applauding, the noise forming an echo chamber that made it too hard for Techno to think. He got up and through his blinking could finally make out some shapes and colors. A blur of black and white running its way towards him.

"Technoblade!" And then Ranboo's hands were on him, putting pressure on the wound in his chest. Techno grunted in pain, trying to push them off but unable to. "Techno, are you-"

"Not fatal," he said quickly. Too low, the sword must have scraped off his ribs. He was thankful for the armor though, it made the difference between a regular stab wound and the sword skewering him clean through. Technoblade never dies the voices were chanting in unison. He coughed, blood pooling behind his teeth that he spat out into the sand. "I've had worse. Still hurts though."

His vision was coming back fully by then, just enough for him to see Ranboo nodding with a pinched expression. He looked worried, but otherwise perfectly unharmed. "I do believe we should visit the infirmary now."

Techno laughed, iron sticky and thick on his tongue. A small price to pay, he couldn't help but think. "I'd say that's a good idea, yeah."