Chapter 28: Down One More Match; Fight of the Unknown

Kara-Throwing in Kaiohdrahl Arc

Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Zelda, this is just a Fanfiction.

Featured Music: "Puzzling Truth"Fire Emblem IX: Path of Radiance OST.Chapter Briefing.

"Main Theme" - Street Fighter V: Champion Edition OST. Scene 1 (First & Second Halves) and 2 (First Half).

"Lin Kuei Temple (Round One)" - Mortal Kombat XL OST. Scene 2 (Second Half).

"Lin Kuei Temple (Round Two)" - Mortal Kombat XL OST. Scene 3 (First Half).

"Lin Kuei Temple (Round Three)" - Mortal Kombat XL OST. Scene 3 (Second Half).

"Drumfire" - Judgment OST. Scene 4.


Having rescued the land of Kaiohdrahl and its lucky inhabitants in driving out an invading military force and even solving a horrible missing children case, the heroes of Impa's group are favoured and even lauded fairly quickly; a state that sees them with quick popularity in signing up to the next national martial arts championship, the Kaioh Bio. In signing up to it Alwyn, Barkner, Link, Raynard and Vassia all hope to win and snatch the title of 'Kaiohdrahl Champion'; one of Aurelia's six envied crowns of honour and glory, fit only for the country's strongest before eventually culminating in the World Championships themselves.

Via the pairings, Alwyn and Barkner, Raynard and Lyna, Zayne and Ragnar and Link and Vassia are all decided to clash with one another; a beautiful and refreshingly surprising reveal thus far that not even the watching commentators themselves could have predicted. In the first and second rounds, Barkner and Lyna both manage to progress forward into the next stage, shocking not just their opponents but themselves; a true pair of eye-openers to say the least.

Unfortunately however, it is during the first round that the young Raynard finds himself aggressively entangled in heated debate with his blonde-haired rival, the ever stubborn-minded Link. Although the discussion itself begins innocently enough it very quickly spirals when Hylian princess Zelda and the subsequent royal family are mentioned, possibly pointing to how deep the hardened Hylian's emotional scars appear to run through. Link, as always, opts to offer no quarter and even insults him for his consistent distrust of his close companion Zelda.

"Better 'n just bein' bitter all my life."

It isn't much but it's enough to surprise the wide-eyed Raynard into acting out similarly to how he had when they first met; an insufferable rogue with a superiority complex. Unable to draw anything the Raynard from his own time once told him of his past, Link finds himself unfit to explain Raynard's hateful focus on the Hylian nobles and the Hylian people themselves, especially in great spite to being one himself.

It is only when Impa, direct close confidante to Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule herself chooses to elucidate the situation, that answers at last are revealed to the group; history and knowledge on the Van Garrick clan themselves. Once very talented in battle, the Van Garricks despaired upon losing any hope of installing a member of their clan into the royal family when lord Daphnes succeeded, and thus reacted in their own horrific and twisted way.

Almost as if in retaliation for having been slighted, the Hylian peoples' children within Castletown very slowly began to go missing one by one. While there was no evidence ever procured for the Van Garricks' involvement, the Hylian people had no doubt in their minds who was at fault and took violent retribution of their own; a horrific act of brutality and bloodshed, made all the more tragic when having been denied by angry petitions to king Daphnes himself. Eventually and before Hyrule's king could even send a unit down to prevent them, the people had successfully killed off every single member of the Van Garrick clan... all but one.

Raynard Van Garrick.

Just a child himself, the people either decided he had no connection to them other than blood and though they were correct in this assumption, their actions that day left a black mark in the boy's heart that would later be manipulated very expertly by the Dreadlord Ganondorf and his right hand Scaverin Estienne in the original timeline.

Although the group now at last have a valuable insight into the seeming stoic madness of their hanger-on Raynard, it does them little good; seemingly having been reminded of the very cause for his lifelong suffering, Raynard begins slowly but surely to turn on his one remaining friend... Link himself. Even in his incredibly-heightened ego when he proclaims the only one within the tournament that stands a chance against him is his blonde-haired rival, he is proven wrong fairly quickly and fairly surprisingly at that as well.

In their explosive and amazing match, Lyna Greene not only takes it with great difficulty, she wins by overwhelming ring out and 'Special Conditional Win'; the first within at least three to five years, a new record for the Prima World Tour's martial arts tournament. For now the staff, group and even the audience all celebrate Lyna's unlikely win, looking forward to the mysterious newcomers fight in round three; Zayne and Ragnar.

But for Link, the concern and dread of Raynard's eventual second betrayal hangs over him like a powerful shadow; though it will be the first he suffers in this particular timeline, it is not the first entirely. When Barkner asks him worriedly, knowing of his betrayal in the original era via his connection to Scaverin, Link only responds...

"Yeah... that's the problem."


Scene 1

"And welcome back ladies and gentlemen to the Prima World Tour's greatest test yet; the Kaioh Bio!"

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

As always, the deafening echoes and cheers of the surrounding audience rent the halls of Tiverpool Castle Arena as they responded excitedly to the ever-smiling Mr. Marshall, still sitting loyally and expectantly in his seat across from the newly-repaired ring.

"If you're just joining us we're already two rounds deep into this magnificent martial arts tournament!"

"Two rounds!" The ever-grinning Tasty Seth cried out alongside the older man enthusiastically, drawing a half-annoyed look from him in response and a few appreciative chuckles in the spectators.

"We've already had two outstanding upsets within the walls of Tiverpool Arena!" Marshall began again, his sociable baritone rebounding off the walls of the huge hall they all resided within. "In our very beginning match, Barkner Elbrus not only surprised the peoples' expectations by snatching away victory, but the young Goron did it with style!"

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

The screams of the listening Gorons within the audience drowned out any other member within it; a powerful and bold resonation for their young representative.

"Don't forget about Lyna Greene Marsh!" The grinning Seth bounced back, tilting his brown-haired head at the older man as he did. "That chick pulled an amazing upset today when she threw that Van Garrick kid from the ring! I was sure he was gonna win it too; I put rupees on it!"

The saddened cry he made at the end pulled out another couple of half-entertained and half-cheering laughs from the surrounding Aurelians, tickled by the youth's anecdote.

Marshall chuckled half-heartedly before re-facing the audience, re-opening his mouth to continue. "Still coming up for you lovely people in round three are two relatively unknown challengers, Zayne Wyeford and Ragnar Romanov!"

"Yooo... the Ragnar Romanov?!" Seth exclaimed out, eyebrows rising up in genuine surprise as a similarly excited smirk widened on his young countenance.

The frowning-faced Marshall rose up his own burnished eyebrow in curiosity, surprised that his less knowledgeable companion appeared to know more than he did. "You know this fighter?"

"How can you not Marsh?!" Seth laughed back, shaking his head as if in disappointment and disapproval. "This guy's been all over Aurelia competing! Not in our series but off the grid!"

Marshall, curious ever-further, chose to rise his frown upward into an inquisitive and interested turn as he upped his eyebrows similarly to convey his intrigue.

"Ring of Honour, Fight for the Finish, Maximum Impact Gylomecia, Sultan of Stralanavia...," Seth named off the tournament names as if they were all mere close-by memories within his brain, grinning on knowingly as he rose up his right hand to shoot up fingers to convey the tournaments with. "All indie circuits our boy Romanov's taken part in; he's gone undefeated!" He exclaimed out, his grin growing quite quickly as he spoke through the small Gossip Stone on his left.

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

Perhaps infected by his passionate-filled speech, the surrounding audience all gave vent to one of their many echoing screams of approval.

"They say this guy's learned from a martial arts teacher that blows any other out of the water too," the ever-grinning Seth marched on in his enthusiastic explanation. "Not many people even know who this person is and even less know much about 'em, but apparently this teacher taught the world's greatest soldier himself; a man hailing from the far-off lands of Dracolius!"

"Really?!" Marshall shot back, his eyebrows rising even further, pulling his head back in genuine surprise and shock. Seth nodded back, grinning boldly and knowledgeably. "I must say that is remarkable! If all those rumours are true... then we're in for one hell of a round three!"

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

"This is gonna be the best damn match in a long time!" Seth grinned on excitedly.

"Right you are my young friend," Marshall began in his well-meaning smile, winking in the youth's direction before re-facing the audience and lightly pointing a finger at one of the surrounding stands as he did. "Don't leave your seats people; immortality within the borders of Kaiohdrahl... five simple victories away!"


"Stay still..."

"Yes mistress..."

Although his attempt at some form of humour between them, an old joke from their recent childhood, Link found the atmosphere between himself and his Hylian princess growing fairly stagnant and oddly cold; he couldn't help but grow his frown into a saddened curious one as she sat across from him, focusing her Aegir-caked hands in casting some kind of sealing spell within him, obviously directed toward the sleeping chaotic energies of Kage Narumono.

Ever since the fiery confrontation with Raynard and Lyna's match-up earlier and the discussion that the wary Impa had with them all about the clan he came from, an long-since desired explanation to his history, the atmosphere between each member within the group had dipped somewhat; it was a pained yet oddly pungent and sharp feeling that remained with all of them, even as the knocked out Raynard had yet to return from his explosive mistake in clashing his energy wave with Lyna's.

The more innocent-minded members of the group however took to celebrating Lyna's unlikely and exciting win; a great revelation that left the ever-grinning Barkner, Malon and even Vassia to share in the surprised Lyna's cheer. Link, meanwhile still feeling the after-effects of Raynard's odd attitude change since their fateful debate, found himself brooding and sulking all on his lonesome as he went over his raven-haired rival's last words to him.

"The only one in this tournament that even stands a chance against me is him! And even then... it's a match that'll end just like before..."

There was a very strange sense of respect within the hateful Van Garrick's words and yet a very obvious scorn spiced through them to match; it made for one hell of a back-handed compliment.

"Hey, come on guys!" The ever-sociable Barkner called over, waving at the sitting pair of Hylian children to come over and join the group of companions. "Stop sittin' over there and come over here with us!"

"Fairy boy's too busy playing kissy-face." The half-annoyed grin on Malon's face called out as she swerved her body from side-to-side, hands on her hips as if in insult. The listening Link couldn't help but roll his eyes tiredly, turning 'round to exchange his exhausted frown with the somewhat amused look on Zelda's face across from him.

"He better not be!" The contrastingly angry Vassia 'rounded her scowl on the pair of Hylians a few yards from them, drawing another exasperated sigh from the blonde boy. He exchanged his raised eyebrow with the smiling Zelda and, somehow sensing his very inward thoughts, she nodded as she lowered her small hands and pulled back the magic she channelled into them. As the pair stood to action and began marching over toward the group, the frowning-faced Link still could not help but turn his ocean-blue eyed gaze downward in deep thought and regret.

"What's wrong?"

He turned his blonde-haired head 'round to face the walking Zelda next to him, half-surprised that her soprano managed to pull him out of his hard-headed thoughts before his startled frown slowly slipped into a half-hearted smile as he shook his straw-haired head at her.

"No reason..."

"It's Raynard... isn't it."

She spoke her sentence as if it were a mere fact, let alone a question; a statement that troubled him further. Link found himself stiffening in his march, stopping immediately as she spoke it, soon finding her having stopped herself as soon as she responded. He turned his head 'round to face her and briefly considered lying to her. It was only when he saw the soft yet hardened look to her cobalt-blue eyes that his resolve faltered and a melancholic smile graced his complexion.

It's almost like she can read my mind, he thought, holding back a mirthless chuckle as he did.

Indeed, the look in her eye was a telling one; nostalgic and powerful, it had a great sway over him, much as he'd have liked to have denied especially in his past with her in the original timeline.

"Just tell her..."

He shut his own sky-blue eyes in a wistfully-growing frown as he ruminated his silently-spoken sentence, re-opening his eyes as he finished taking a deep breath in through his small nose.

"Yeah...," he at last answered her with, a similarly determined nod as he did. "It is."

She smiled back at him tenderly, stepping forward very carefully and joined her hands softly with his own, the black shirt she wore lightly blowing in the wind allowed in through the open windows in the competitor's box. Link couldn't help but fight back the embarrassed flush of red his cheeks inevitably took when she did, his own smile soon lowering into a zig-zag-like frown as he wandered his eyes downward from hers.

"Don't lose faith..."

This time his embarrassment appeared to subside, and very quickly at that, as she spoke; he blinked on, curious and surprised as he re-rose his cerulean-shaded eyes to mix with hers. She watched back in what seemed to be understanding and an odd kind of affection that felt warm to listen to.

"He'll listen to you eventually; I know," she whispered on ardently, gently squeezing his fingers within her own, her smile slowly widening as she did. "You can be... very persuasive when you need to." She finished, this time in a half-humoured chuckle, drawing out a similarly surprised chortle from him in response.

Maybe she's right, he thought.

"Maybe I can actually make a difference this time."

"Hey! Stop that!"

The high-pitched snap that was Vassia's angry soprano almost completely ruined the exchange he shared with the smiling Zelda and he instinctively flinched and tensed up when the Palashian princess' voice carried over to meet the pair of Hylians.

He turned slowly 'round to fire back an irritated and humorous deadpan-like deep-faced frown to his countenance, his stance even lowering to suit his annoyed expression. In the exchange, Shanaari and Barkner standing with Vassia turned their heads to the ceiling and let loose their entertained laughter, joined by the amused silent smirk on Malon's face next to them. Alwyn and Impa, however, as always opted to merely watch on in stoic silence of their own.

"That's not funny!"

Even as Vassia's further angered shriek pierced the air, clearly having been offended by the youth's defiance, Link blinked on in abrupt confusion when he felt Zelda squeeze his fingers again and he swung his head 'round to face her. She shook her own pony-tailed head back at him, as if to dissuade him; as always, he could somehow read the words she was attempting to convey with her gesture, something the two seemed to share together.

'Don't provoke her.'

He rolled his oceanic eyes back at her in his disappointed and discouraged frown, drawing a small and quiet laugh from her; a simple expelling of air through her nose as her smile slowly grew in response to it.

'Fine...' His annoyed expression silently responded with.

The pair turned to continue their march toward their warm group of companions, Link in his deadpan frown and Zelda in her sociable if introverted smile, their pinky fingers joined together almost as if in mock defiance of the angered Vassia.

2

"Welcome back, one and all! If you're just joining us we're two rounds deep into this delicious Kaioh Bio!" The ever-smiling Marshall called out, his baritone knocking off the walls of Tiverpool Arena. "A fight to the finish to decide your country's greatest warrior!"

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

As always, the audience's surrounding cheers filled the stands with a small vibration that resounded powerfully off the walls.

"This time we've got one hell of a pleasure for you folks," Marshall began again, grinning on as he cast his similarly entertained look across each stand surrounding him. "We have an opening match with one of the world's greatest martial artists!"

"Say it ain't so Marsh!"

"It is my young friend!" Marshall grinned in his humoured chuckle, nodding in response to the words of his co-commentator, Tasty Seth. "We have one of the world's very lucky fighters indeed; a man that learned under Sun Hui themselves!"

As if on command of the man's words, a pictograph of black and white displayed up on one of the competitor's box's pillars; an oddity when compared to the other coloured ones the Prima World Tour liked to use. He seemed to be a fairly young man, carrying short yet untamed black-shaded hair atop his head, further complimented by the blaze-like eyebrows that were strewn above his hardened raven-like eyes. His youthful complexion, a surprising countenance for such a reputation, was further reinforced by the shaved look he held on his determined face.

Underneath, as always, were the man's statistics.

Ragnar Romanov

Combination Damage: S++

Aggressiveness: S

Punishment Proficiency: S+

"My goddess look at those stats!" Seth cried out excitedly, grinning on similarly to his companion. "And yet I've never heard of this guy! Who even is he?!"

"Do I have a story for you...," Marshall smirked, tilting his brown-haired head at the youth knowingly as he spoke. "Our man Ragnar is said to be a staunch believer in the use of 'Aegir-flow'; a technique in where he accesses the finer points of his powers."

Seth chuckled back, nodding his head upwards in response. "You mean all that fire, wind, water and earth I'm seein' flyin' all over the ring?"

Marshall clicked his fingers expectantly. "Exactly my young friend, exactly!" He began again before re-opening his mouth. "In utilising this technique, said to have been taught to him directly by Sun Hui themselves, our man Romanov has reached his potential extremely quickly!"

The listening Seth, unsure, could only blink back in response. "B-But what does that mean Marsh?"

"It means... that Romanov is the man to beat in this tournament!" Marshall at last exclaimed back in response, turning his brown-haired head to the sky in laughter, his excited words drawing a likewise thrilled reply from the listening audience.

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

"Impa-sensei... is that true?"

The listening Sheikah herself, far down in the competitor's box with the rest of her group, turned her curious blink down to find the frowning-faced Link standing below her, oceanic eyes wide to convey his interest and intrigue in the subject.

"About what exactly?" She asked, furrowing her brow. "Romanov accessing his... potential was it?"

The young Hylian nodded, his pony-tail bouncing a little as he did.

Impa nodded similarly, her arms ever folded stoically. "Yeah I'd say that's possible."

"Damn...," Link murmured out, turning his head back to face the arena and the slow-marching Ragnar himself, a kind of doe-eyed awe in his eye. "Being able to be that strong and be so young... that's so-"

"Bigleux!"

The high-pitched soprano that spoke, ever in its powerful Palashian accent, made all the listeners in the group swing their heads only to find the ever-smirking Vassia in her folded-armed glare.

"Big-loo? What?" Link parroted back in response, taking on a funny turn to his facial expression as if in half-disgusted curiosity. The listening Zelda grew a small entertained smile to her face as she held back a giggle, drawing a quiet snort from the grinning Barkner and an audible sigh from the rolling-eyed Malon.

"It's Palashian...," Zelda informed him softly as she lowered one of her hands down from her mouth, presumably to speak with. "It means-"

"I don't need you to translate for me!" The ever easily-angered Vassia exclaimed out, turning her violet-haired head on the young blonde, drawing a simple-faced frown her in response. "Short-sightedness!"

A few seconds of what felt like a near-uncomfortable silence dawned on the group and heads turned to exchange looks with one another, almost as if to confirm on an acceptable-enough level of response. When Link caught the hurt look in Zelda's eyes his quiet-faced frown twitched and he turned to face Vassia, nodding his head upward. Curious, the Palashian princess swung her raven-eyed expression on the boy's, rising up her eyebrows to match the superior-faced smirk she liked to wear with it.

"Shut up Vassia."

Again the listening Barkner let out a notable snort of amusement that was ever-joined by the giggles on Malon next to him and the half-smirk on even Alwyn, Shanaari and Impa's faces. Vassia, of course, puffed up her cheeks into a red annoyed mass and glared back at him as she clenched her fists, unable to do anything but glower childishly. Satisfied by the response he received, Link double-took in the smiling Zelda's direction, only to find her mouthing a pair of grateful words back his way.

'Thank you'.

"Well gee Marsh! It sounds to me as if our boy Romanov can't be beaten!"

The sound of Seth's excited call made the listening group all swing their heads 'round in light surprise, returning their attention to the upcoming match.

"Ah but hold that thought my young friend," the similarly smirking-faced Marshall shot back as he clicked his fingers and turned his own brown-haired head up to nod toward the pictograph hanging on the competitor's box's right pillar. "We're about to find out!"

Sure enough a pictograph displayed up on the long vertical pillar of a contrastingly smiling-faced young man, also relatively young by comparison. His bright-auburn wavy-like hair sat atop his head, complimenting the orange-shaded vest he wore upon his muscled chest. While the pictograph was only taken at a close distance to get a good look at his facial structure and a little under his top half, he wore green-shaded trousers slicked with a fire-red design that spanned vertically downward; a beautiful, if, crude-looking choice. Below were, as always, his current statistics within the Prima World Tour.

Zayne Wyeford

Aggressiveness: ?

Agility: ?

Tenacity: ?

Combination Damage: ?

Punishment Proficiency: ?

Side-Stepping: ?

Grapple Countering: ?

"Yo! We know absolutely nothin' about this guy?!" Seth called out, startled as he widened his eyes to convey his emotion. His older companion chuckled back humouredly, tilting his head as he re-opened his mouth to respond.

"That's right Seth; for all we know this young man could be the winner of this tournament! Try as our information officers did they could not unearth anything on Mr. Wyeford; this should be interesting to say the least!"

As the audience all began to cheer in response to Marshall's words, the relatively-unknown pair of martial artists themselves at last made their way to the ring and cast one another with their looks; Ragnar in his hard-eyed glare and Zayne in his indecipherable slant, eyes focused firmly on one another in their sides.

"Red side, ready!"

The listening Zayne nodded in response to the young referee's words, bringing up his muscled arms to hang in the air as he hopped around in place; a basic 'Fighting' stance in what appeared to be taekwondo.

"Blue side, ready!"

Just as his former opponent did, the glaring-eyed Ragnar affixed himself into an appropriate posture; the 'on-guard' stance. He stood side-on to face his foe and hopped similarly to him in place, both arms risen up to hover at his mid as he kept the rest of his body limber as if to move at a moment's notice. As always however the baited breath that the watching audience took was roughly wrung awake when the gong rung noisily, echoing out to go along with the young woman's words.

"Begin!"


The narrow-eyed Ragnar wasted no time in his offensive approach; he hopped forward in two deft forward-advancing kicks that made the watching Zayne grin on as he deflected the blows fairly easily in simple-moving back-dashes. He responded with a quick high kick of his own, a much taller variation of Ragnar's relatively fast swipe; seemingly a signature technique of the taekwondo-style. While Ragnar shot up one of his quick kicks of his own in sudden response, the contrastingly grinning-faced Zayne aggressively deflected the wary poke before launching his own offensive; a fast-advancing series of three-to-four kicks.

Ragnar's eyes never left his opponent's, even as he zealously and expertly whipped his attempts away in swift side-steps and back-dashes before peppering Zayne with one or two quick kicks of his own. As before, Zayne smirked on superiorly and even huffed on in haughty arrogance as he diverted Ragnar's kicks, leaving the pair at what seemed to be a slow and careful stalemate. Almost as if to commentate on this himself, Zayne laughed out aloud and opened up both slim arms to his sides, stepping forward a pace or two as if to insult the glaring-eyed Ragnar.

"Come on!" The young man called out, a thick Kaiohdrahlian accent spicing his grinning-laced words. "Don't you have anything else?"

Uninspired, even the watching audience began booing out of half-agreement with the arrogant young martial artist, drawing a response from the ever-entertained co-commentators.

"Yo I think I like this guy's energy Marsh," the likewise grinning-faced Seth began lightly from his own seat, nodding his short-haired head forward. "He's got a good attitude."

"Of course you do, Seth...," Marshall grinned on in response, furrowing his brow back at the ever rambunctious youth. "But you must learn to look beneath initial impressions!"

His curious comment managed to catch the young man's attention and Seth swung his head 'round to face the older man. "What the hell does that mean?"

Marshall chuckled, tilting his head in the ring's direction. "It means this battle has only just begun!"

As if to emphasise the value on Marshall's very words themselves, the firmly-frowning Ragnar shot forward in a quick couple of high kicks aimed at his younger opponent's head without warning, before swinging 'round in a fairly telegraphed roundhouse. The ever-grinning Zayne merely batted his foe's two assaults away before swerving himself out of the roundhouse's way and swiftly responding with his own; a twirling taekwondo tag that, while not particularly very damaging, was enough to knock the surprised Ragnar down.

As the Draerithian native fell stumbling backward a few steps to his rear in a startled grunt, Zayne smirked back at him as he relaxed his stance and rose up his left index finger before wagging it in mid-air, almost as if to insult him. The watching surrounding Aurelian audience all at last let out their excited cheers to fill the arena with, their voices very lightly vibrating their very seats in their approval.

The watching Ragnar slowly rose himself to a standing state, raven-black eyes gradually narrowing as he set his bare shoulders straight before re-lowering them as if to regain his breath. He took on a sided bladed-like stance before calling out loudly as he approached in a quick high kick. The ever-grinning Zayne shook his head dismissively even as he swatted the kick down before rising up his left arm to catch Ragnar's immediate follow-up; an attempted right hook. His offence and, thus defence now lost to him, he gasped on as Zayne laughed and peppered the wide-eyed Draerithian with a deft pair of jabs into two low knees.

CRACCCCK

Ragnar called out in a high-pitched cry of agony, eyes widened as he near buckled from the surprising pressure laid on by his younger opponent, unready for the inevitable follow-up; a quick grapple of his right arm before he was tossed overhead.

SLAM

The very arena itself crashed fairly noisily as Ragnar's body knocked echoing against it, drawing out further cheers from the surrounding audience. Zayne smirked on as he rose up one of his clenched fists, presumably to finish his opponent off with, before descending it down in a rapid offensive. Ragnar's eyes widened as he merely slapped the fist away before shooting up one of his own; an open-palmed grapple that grasped at the gasping Zayne's green and orange vest.

While it wasn't a particularly damaging assault, or even technically an assault at all, the speed in which Ragnar moved surprised the watching youth so much that he could only freeze in place, shocked to his core. It was only when he at last regained some form of feeling to his body again that he angrily deflected the lying Ragnar's grapple, resulting in an ear-splitting response.

RRRRRRRRRRIPPP

As the gasping Zayne back-dashed away to relative safety, brown eyes widened, the firmly-frowning Ragnar stood quickly to attention gripping the green and orange cloth he managed to pilfer, his right hand clutching it in a hovering position just next to him. Ragnar's eyes narrowed as he blew on his open-palmed hand, sending the fragment of clothing breezing into the air in a contrastingly calm display. Zayne's earlier relaxed smirk was now lost to him, replaced only by a wary-faced frown as he ripped off the rest of his vest in a display that left the female side of the audience all whooping and cheering.

3

"Now that's speed," the watching Marshall commented on, smiling lightly as he leaned back in his chair and tilted his brown-haired head at the scene before him. "To have moved that quickly that even our young challenger Wyeford's attitude is beginning to change," he chuckled this time, shaking his head as he did. "The folly of youth!"

"Fast ain't the word Marsh!" Seth grinned back, nodding. "This guy's somethin' else!"

Ragnar pulled up one of his thumbs to glide disrespectfully across his nose as he began to slowly swing his legs up and down, almost as if to up the blood-flow. He soon turned it into a fairly limber-like dance as he hopped in place, open-handed fists resting at his waist. Zayne watched him carefully, a newly-gained hardened frown atop his young countenance as the glaring Ragnar began to advance very slowly in his hops, eyes similarly glaring back into his own.

FWIP

Zayne flinched and near slapped at the mere air itself as Ragnar tested him with a super-fast feint; a quick half-jab directed at the air between them, revealing the youth's growing nervousness. Feeling insulted, Zayne growled and made ready to advance in a quick kick forward but as Ragnar widened his eyes and his scowl grew even crueller, he faltered and winced as he very quickly pulled his form back a step. At last however Zayne found his earlier confidence and yelled out as he taut his form forward in a swift stabbing kick, eliciting the newly narrow-eyed Ragnar to side-step it in quick and careful evasion.

Time slowed down for the pair of martial artists and, as the careful-eyed Ragnar calmly circled his opponent, Zayne responded by tossing a quick back-handed jab up to catch his older foe's side-step. Ragnar deflected the blow silently as he hopped backward just a half-step to avoid the follow-up roundhouse that Zayne threw out so haphazardly, his short-hops soon growing in distance. Zayne, his anger growing, yelled out a second time as he dove a kick forward this time in a vertically-positioned high that the watching Ragnar evaded simply by swerving his head to the side.

WHOOSH

Ragnar ducked the third incoming roundhouse, wide and horizontal, before continuing to hop carefully and voicelessly in his hard-eyed glower.

"RGH!"

His rage growing to a boiling point to match his earlier vanity, Zayne tossed out a pair of deft stabbing high kicks that the short-hopping Ragnar blocked fairly easily before firing forward a fourth and fifth feverish roundhouse. As with all the others Ragnar very quickly back-stepped and ducked to avoid them both, rendering his younger foe's brazen assaults meaningless.

A very small yet somehow noticeable little grin flashed on Ragnar's face when he caught the rage-filled look in Zayne's eye; it was something that the watching audience all took in stride, cheering on in approval as they watched the lightning-quick engagement. He quick-jabbed at the air between them to make Zayne grunt and swerve his head back and, as he did, he turned his recovery into another assault; a sixth wide-swinging roundhouse that Ragnar easily quick-stepped away from.

Finally had enough with the lack of participation in the conflict, Zayne in-took a quick yet deep huff that set the tone for the rest of the fight; a response that saw the firmly-watching Ragnar at last act. His narrowed black-shaded eyes widened as he called out in a high-pitched baritone, swinging up a trio of quick high-kicks that the watching Zayne either swerved out of or deflected before quickly swinging a right roundhouse high and horizontally over Ragnar's head.

The Draerithian growled out as he ducked the inevitable and telegraphed swipe before quickly swinging up another vertical high kick. Zayne struggled to keep up and gasped on as he rose up both arms to block in a cross-like formation, leading the sweat-faced Ragnar to narrow his eyes one more time. He poked a quick low kick at the wide-eyed young man, making him gasp out a second time as he double-took downward. He took a step backward, muttering out a swear word in Kaiohdrahlian as he regained some space to breathe with.

A second or two spanned between them, uneventful yet full of life somehow; Zayne's darted between the hopping Ragnar's legs and his head, almost as if guessing in where the next assault was coming. Sure enough, the chance was taken and Ragnar called out again as he shot up and connected a painful-looking high kick that sent Zayne grunting and staggering a step backward. His defence was now opened up fully and Ragnar pressed on with a pair of roundhouse kicks of his own; while Zayne barely managed to block the first, it was the second that sent him yelling and sprawling out across the tiled ground.

Ragnar opened up his mouth and at last broke his silence; he shook his head in a fairly slow swing that looked reminiscent of a similar gesture that Alwyn once made when utilising the drunken fist.

"Wohhhhhh!"

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

"Back to basics ladies and gentlemen!" The smiling Marshall called out alongside the crying dins of the surrounding Aurelian audience. "So far we've had creatures of differing races like Weirson the Zora, Elbrus the Goron and sheer monsters like 'Fire Fist Firbrand' and his sudden death rival Van Garrick but this, ladies and gentlemen...," he began again, his smile widening a little as he nodded his head forward at the scene before them. "This is the true expression of martial arts!"

"Not gonna lie though I kinda miss the fireworks we're so used to seein'." Seth grinned on as he re-faced the blinking Marshall, drawing out a half-amused chuckle from him and the listening audience around them.


The narrow-eyed Zayne grunted out in effort as, after quickly recovering in place, he pressed forward in a deft vertical stabbing kick that the glaring Ragnar deflected. The youth continued his pressure by jabbing high with his right arm, spinning 'round in his movement before tossing a quick back-hand Ragnar's way; the older more experienced warrior blocked both hits fairly easily as he back-dashed away safely, eyes watching his foe carefully. Zayne opted to go on with his relentless assault by deftly swinging two more jabs, one low and high, before the glowering Ragnar blocked both and quickly low-kicked the gasping youth.

"Argh...!"

Shocked by the very specific area in which Ragnar struck so expertly, the once-considered superior warrior found himself doubting the air itself as he stumbled back a step to fall on his side, gasping. Strangely he found he could not seem to move his struck right leg and yet the assault was merely a simple jabbing touch.

"What the... what the hell have you done?!" He called up angrily, turning both hands to grip at his injured leg as he lay on his side, sweating. "I-I can't move!"

As he had done when the battle had begun, the firmly-frowning form of Ragnar merely relaxed his stance as he stared back at the fallen youth, unwilling to re-open his mouth to speak in reply to him.

"What the hell did he do to him Marsh?" The curious Seth questioned, eyebrow rising up to convey his inquisitive nature.

"Hrm... it's... hard to say with certainty, but...," Marshall responded, his brow furrowing forward as if he were working out the very situation unfolding before his eyes. "It looks as though our man Romanov has managed to incapacitate Wyeford through that kick somehow...," he explained on curiously, shaking his brown-haired head unsurely as he did, sighing on in half-frustration. "How exactly though... I can't say my young friend; I apologise."

"Impa-sensei?"

Somehow unsurprised by her student's call, the ever-wise Sheikah lowered her silver-shaded head to eye the frowning-faced Link below her on her immediate left. It was sudden but it was expected, especially among the more astute members of the group; whenever the commentators of the sport they watched had little or no answer to the phenomenon of Aegir or battle, they almost always turned to the more academically gifted members of their troupe.

Her eyes relaxed a little as she opened up her mouth to respond. "Zayne's Aegir points," the Sheikah revealed, drawing curious looks from the listening Alwyn, Barkner, Vassia and everyone else. "By utilising his own Aegir, Ragnar's essentially laid a quick but near-deadly assault by attacking a very specific area on Zayne's body; an entry-point for his magical energy."

"Of course...," the watching Alwyn shook his injured head-fin in sudden realisation. "I should have connected it when I saw him drop so quickly like that."

"If Zayne Wyeford cannot stand up then Ragnar Romanov will be crowned as winner of this match-up!"

The sound of the referee's voice made Zayne growl out deeply and angrily as he, very slowly, began to attempt to rise to his feet again; a painful and laborious process that saw the audience chanting for him. His right leg shook horribly; a worrying reaction of his Aegir-point having been near-broken by the careful and deliberate touch of his opponent. Beads of sweat rolled down from his forehead in a display of sheer effort as he attempted, with great effort, to stand.

It looked near-impossible however.

"I do not envy that," the watching Seth winced on. "Gotta wonder how it feels?"

"Like salt through a freshly-opened flesh wound my young friend." Marshall frowned also in response, tilting his head as he spoke wisely.

The audience's chants soon evolved into deafening cheers as the glaring Zayne at last regained some form of footing; it wasn't nearly as audacious and confident as before but it was much more preferable than lying helplessly on the ground. He stood now with a solid defensive taekwondo-style stance on his left, his hanging right leg noticeably letting down the rest of his defence, essentially leaving him open. It didn't go unnoticed by the firmly-frowning Ragnar; as he hopped in place, his scowl appeared to grow even deeper as if he were somehow disapproving, before he at last stepped forward to begin his advance again.

The Draerith native remained ever silent as he gently jabbed another light kick toward his younger foe's right leg. The narrow-eyed Zayne quickly altered his stance to place his left leg ahead of his right, as if to protect it, and was thus successful; the watching Ragnar rose up a curious eyebrow as Zayne quickly swatted the subtle strike away, leaving the pair staring at one another in a tense period of silence. Soon enough however, the ever-glowering Ragnar called out in his high-pitched baritone as he suddenly and inexplicably shot a tall vertical high kick stabbing into the wide-eyed Zayne's chin.

"Wat-AAAA!"

CRACCCK

"Urgh...!"

The poor wounded Zayne found himself launching high into the air and, already seemingly winning the bout, the scowling-faced Ragnar opted not to pursue; he merely stood and watched the cringing Zayne fly high into the air above, hopping ever in place as if to ready himself for yet another advance.

"Good lord!" The watching Marshall gasped out, eyes widened. He pulled off the spectacles he wore and rubbed at them with his clothes as if to gain a better viewing before placing them back on; regardless however he shook his head. "I... I couldn't see any of that! What about you Seth?"

"Not a thing," the younger man responded in a similar-faced frown, shaking his head. "That's fast."

"Fast ain't the word for that...," Barkner muttered out from the competitor's box, brow furrowing wisely as he re-opened his mouth, hand on his rocky-bodied hip as he leant his head to the side. "This guy's just playin' around with the younger one."

"He's obviously just tricking him somehow...," the ever-rude Vassia rolled her raven-black eyes as she chuckled on. When she soon found she was listened to by no-one within the group however her smirk very quickly dropped and she huffed. "You all really think he just moved that fast?!"

"I couldn't follow it...," the narrow-eyed Impa spoke up softly, her fire-red eyes narrowing thoughtfully at the back of the hopping Ragnar. "His strength and speed is definitely up there."

"Nor could I," the similarly frowning Zelda agreed on quietly with her attendant, shaking her blonde-haired pony-tailed head, hands joined at her centre. "He seems to be very gifted."

"What about you, Link?" Alwyn pressed curiously, tearing his eyes very slowly and carefully away from the exchange in the ring ahead to turn to the blonde boy beneath him. "See any of it?"

The listening Link gulped down a load of saliva and, shaking his straw-haired, pony-tailed head, he re-opened its mouth to speak. "No," the young Hylian admitted. "Not even an after-image."

"It would seem this man doesn't quite have the flashy skills your group has...," the smiling Shanaari began, eyebrow rising upward as she spoke. "Yet it's his fundamental skills that appear to be much higher."

"Couldn't have said that one better myself." Impa murmured out, playing with her tongue in her open-mouthed frown, tilting her silver-haired head as she did.

"Please!" Vassia laughed out in response, her grin ever carrying her through the conversation as she turned to step toward the firmly-frowning Link. "I'm sure he can't even compare to moi or mon amour?" The Palashian princess spoke again, reaching to grapple at the blonde boy's left arm to bring him out of his stupor. "Right?" She asked again, rising up her violet-haired eyebrows as she grinned on back at him.

He widened his own oceanic-shaded eyes as he double-took in her direction, surprised, before half-heartedly smiling back her way.

"S-Sure Vass..."

His lukewarm response left a genuinely surprised and unsure look in the Palashian girl's ebony eye; she blinked back as he turned 'round to stare at the ring once more, his eyes re-narrowing and his brow to match it. The words of Shanaari rung out echoing through his mind and he couldn't help but comment on them to himself.

"That's what I'm afraid of..."

4

Zayne pressed forward in a quick jabbing assault that the narrow-eyed Ragnar swerved out of, remaining ever-silent even as he blocked the second desperate jab the angry Zayne threw out. He responded with a quick high jab of his own that connected, sending the grunting young man stumbling a few steps back as he did. Further angered by his unsuccessful venture, Zayne shot up a vertical high kick that Ragnar swatted away as he stepped backward in evasion, drawing the glaring younger man to continue his assault into a wide horizontal roundhouse.

FWIP

As before, Ragnar avoided the telegraphed swipe by ducking with such speed that the watching audience had to squint just to catch, watching him hopping 'round the gasping and glowering young Kaiohdrahlian. As Zayne rather recklessly chose to pursue, the narrow-eyed Draerithian shot down a quick stabbing low kick directed at his opponent's weakened leg.

CRACK

"AGH!"

Zayne dropped to his left leg supporting him, both hands immediately on his right as it throbbed intensely within his agonised grip. He grit his teeth together and, snapping open his brown-shaded eyes to reveal the hatred-filled scowl he now wore across his countenance, he angrily stood to his one remaining good foot and recklessly threw a wide haymaker with one of his arms. The narrow-eyed Ragnar ducked before utilising one of his own fists to stab upward directly into the young man's exposed bare chest while rising, sending him stumbling back a few steps in surprise.

Ragnar followed up his counter-attack by shooting up two feints; one a quick would-be high jab that made the wide-eyed Zayne flinch horribly and another a would-be wide haymaker of his own with his remaining hand. As Zayne, perhaps in desperation chose to bring up both arms to block in a crossed formation with, Ragnar merely stabbed the youth's wounded leg a third time to cause his entire defence to crumble.

"Ngh...!"

It wasn't even a heavy strike but it was enough to open up his defences.

"Yah-yah-Wat-AAA!"

Ragnar pressed forward in a short but devastating series of four Aegir-filled punching strikes across the youth's chest and body. Zayne widened his brown eyes and, much as he tried, no sound or even air came out; it was a sheer expression of horror and abject agony. Ragnar yelled out in his high-pitched baritone as he knocked his assault deeply into the youth's body, leaving him in what seemed to be a short period of uncertainty. Sure enough however, the agile Draerithian shot up into the air with an extremely damaging and yet deft vertical high kick that saw him sheerly flying through the air, linear and powerful.

"WOHHHH!"

CRACCCCCK-CRASSSSSH

Zayne flew through the air with him as his face and chin collided with the small Draerith shoe, sending his rolling-eyed body careering backward, staining the very air above him with a coughing plume of blood as he did. A period of shock-staring silence fell upon Tiverpool Arena as the audience, the commentators and even the rest of the tournament participants all watched the aftermath of the brutal and barbarous result of Ragnar's seeming final blow; the poor Zayne's boiling-red blood stained the hopping Ragnar's shoe and the fallen Zayne himself rolled backward across the tiles so savagely and so roughly that his body ricocheted painfully twice, landing in a face-up position.

Rather shockingly indeed, as another few uneventful and tense-filled seconds passed, the fallen Zayne coughed out loudly, his voice knifing through the pressure in the air like a blade; a signature of his still-living body. Even more surprisingly the incredibly stubborn youth's body began to weakly shake, like the dying leaves on a fallen tree, as he very slowly attempted to rise himself to his feet once more.

"Incredible!"

Marshall's echoing baritone made most of the listeners in the stands surrounding him jump in their seats, drawing out responses from them at last.

"Even after that ferocious beat-down, Zayne is not giving up!" The excited older man called out, gripping at the small Gossip Stone in his right hand as he did. "I've never seen such hopeless determination! Not since the Hylian Hyrax!"

"These two are somethin' else Marsh; it's gotta be said," Seth shook his brown-haired head in agreement with the older commentator on his right, re-opening his mouth to elaborate. "I can't even follow this guy anymore; he's just way too fast," he began wisely, shaking his head a second time as he gestured toward the hopping Ragnar. "And to still be standin' after all that... who is this Zayne kid?"

"An exceptionally talented young martial artist Seth," Marshall answered for him, his frown soon upturning into a light smile as he tilted his head again as he spoke; an old habit. "It may be his stubbornness however... that does him in..."

Almost as if the two fighters were ignoring the very public comments made however, the heavily-gasping Zayne struggled to stand to his feet, finding himself backed up against one of the arena's pillars leading to the competitor's box. He held onto its surface with the open palm of his right hand, glaring back into the hardened and determined deep-black of Ragnar's own eyes, his right leg trembling from the extreme strain it seemed to suffer.

He advanced again, surprisingly, but this time opted to use his left leg to attack with; a simple-enough stabbing jab in a low kick but, as he stepped forward and attempted to use his wounded right leg as support, he perhaps inevitably crumbled to his feet in a pained yelp. Even the watching Ragnar opted not to counter-attack; whether it be a signature of respect or even an insult was anyone's guess however. He merely stood in his hardened-eyed glare, relaxing his own stance as if to announce his own victory to the watching crowd of people.

Soon enough, in spite to his great wounds and loss of energy, the glowering Zayne re-stood to his feet with similar exertion to before and even began to stop breathing heavily. The two martial artists were complete polar opposites of one another; while Zayne was covered in sweat, bruises, wounds and blood, the firm-eyed Ragnar instead had nary a mark on him and didn't even display a single bead of sweat.

A horrifying sight indeed for the rest of the tournament's participants.

As Zayne re-narrowed his eyes to stare back at the firm look in his older opponent's eyes, his angry scowl very slowly upturned into a half-amused smirk, almost as if he were thinking of a potential course of action. Somehow sensing his very private and inward thoughts, the watching Ragnar very gradually and carefully shook his short black-haired head at him, almost as if to dissuade him from continuing.

The grin on Zayne's face began to drop and, as it did, he very suddenly and abruptly opened his mouth up to scream as if in a war cry itself before quickly and desperately leaping what remained of his unresponsive body in one last ditch effort; a wide and telegraphed left hook that Ragnar easily blocked and deflected before he opened up his left arm to catch the fast-advancing Zayne's very head itself. Caught deftly and powerfully within his grip, Zayne roared out in a mixture of anger, pain and rage as he hopelessly and angrily swiped both arms in side-punches to the older man's back. They knocked off his muscled back fairly harmlessly and, as the rage-filled Kaiohdrahlian struggled endlessly within the Draerithian's grip, the glaring-eyed Ragnar widened his eyes and at last acted.

CRRRRRACCCCCCCK


All of sudden and shockingly at that, Zayne's struggle stopped; his body fell limp within the ever stoically-silent Ragnar's grip and the experienced warrior dropped to one knee as he allowed the fallen Zayne to drop down to the tiled ground beneath them both. He rolled horrifically and agonisingly into a face-up position, eyes shut and face covered in his own sweat, bruises and blood. The Aurelian audience surrounding them all watched on in wide-eyed, baited breath, unable to respond with their usual cheers for fear of an actual death within the tournament proceedings.

"Oh my sweet... Din."

At long last the horrific tension was broken through the quietly-spoken words of the similarly shocked Marshall; he very slowly rose up his hands and removed his spectacles in his display of amazement and horror, near-unable to believe it.

"Is... is he actually dead Marsh...?" Seth whispered out quietly, being sure to keep his Gossip Stone from his mouth as he leaned to his right, beads of nervous sweat running down his forehead.

"If he isn't...," Marshall began, tilting his head again as he re-rose his brown-shaded eyebrows. "Then that's one hell of a neck-ache."

As if ushered in by the commentators' words, the young woman acting as the tournament's referee rushed into the arena and skid down on her knees as she fast-approached the fallen Zayne's form, landing directly next to him. The narrow-eyed Ragnar watched on in hard-glaring stony-faced silence as she lowered a finger around his neck, as if to feel a pulse. In a second or two she eventually re-rose her head and called out the result of the battle.

"He's alive!"

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

Almost immediately, as if somehow relieved by the good news of the referee, the audience all erupted into deafening cheers once more.

"Zayne Wyeford has been knocked unconscious! This set's winner is Ragnar Romanov!" She called out a second time as she stood to her feet, grabbing the glaring-faced Ragnar's arm and lifting it to the sky as if to award him with.