The greatest in the Multiverse
Round 7: The Chronal Kobold vs the Spectral Sentinel
"WE'RE ALREADY AT THE 7TH ROUND NOW, SO LET'S KEEP THOSE CHEERS COMING!"
The cheers did indeed keep coming. Despite all the violent brawls and intense action that had already taken place, the audience never seemed to have enough of it. Even now their eyes were all glued to the left gate, illuminated by the bright spotlights.
"IN THE BLUE CORNER WE HAVE THE CHRONAL KOBOLD; OUR SECOND REPRESENTATIVE OF UNIVERSE 8 IN A ROW! AT THE AGE OF 34, THIS SCALED MAGICIAN HAS DISPLAYED AN ASTONISHINGLY HIGH INTELLIGENCE FOR A KOBOLD! THIS NOTABLE BRAINPOWER HAS SECURED HIM A SPOT AS A PROFESSOR IN CHRONURGY - OR TIME-RELATED MAGIC - AT THE HARLOW UNIVERSITY OF MAGIC AND SORCERY! WILL HIS IMPRESSIVE MIND OUTWIT HIS OPPONENT, OR WILL HIS TIME RUN OUT? THE ONE, THE ONLY: CONTESTAAAANT PROFESSOR SUSS!"
Somehow, the cheers seemed less loud than usual when the tiny wizard entered the arena. Nevertheless, Professor Suss met the still excited crowd with some dignified bows and nods. Either he hadn't noticed the somewhat lesser enthusiasm or he simply didn't care. Although anyone who knew him would tell you it was definitely the former. As if to wordlessly reinforce this, the more sharp-eyed spectators could see him give a seemingly insulted scowl as the spotlights moved from him over to the opposite gate.
"AND IN THE RED CORNER, SAY HELLO TO THE SPECTRAL SENTINEL OF UNIVERSE 1! THIS CLERIC OF EILISTRAEE SPENT HIS 155 YEARS OF LIFE AS A SLAVE TO THE DROW SOCIETAL SYSTEM, BUT ONE CRUCIAL EXPERIENCE GAVE HIM ENOUGH OF A HEART TO LEAD ONE LIFE AWAY FROM IT! AND WHILE THIS ACT COST HIM HIS LIFE, THE DARK MAIDEN GAVE HIS SOUL A CHANCE TO ATONE FROM BEYOND! AND NOW, 19 YEARS LATER, HE HAS BEEN GIVEN A TEMPORARY PARTIAL RESURRECTION TO NOT ONLY SAVE HIS HOME UNIVERSE, BUT ALSO PUT HIS DEVOTION TO THE TEST IN THIS TOURNAMENT! WILL THE MIGHT OF THE LADY OF THE DANCE'S CHAMPION PURGE HIS FOE, OR WILL THE DIVINE LIGHT BE SNUFFED OUT? HERE HE IS: CONTESTAAAANT VUZRAK!"
The approving cheers were right back to their usual volume as Vuzrak slowly walked onto the field. Although the Drow waved back with his right hand without any obvious signs of stage fright, his left hand was put right above his squinting eyes. The starry void of space surrounding the arena meant that his dark blue skin didn't have to be plagued by any sunlight, but those spotlights centred on him didn't exactly do his sensitive golden eyes any good either. Also, did the announcer really need to bring up the circumstances of his death to everyone? He himself had long since come to terms with it, but that didn't mean he liked thinking about it. But telling Googlorp off had to wait. Right now there was a Kobold with very round glasses looking up right at him.
"Right, uh… good day to you, sir. I hope that none of us will come out of this with any hard feelings, so good luck and let's both do our best", Vuzrak told the scaled professor. The wizard simply responded with a small chuckle before crossing his arms, not even bothering to shake Vuzrak's extended hand.
"Likewise, Drow. You do appear less… malicious than the rest of your kin, so I'll make sure to keep your dignity intact upon your defeat. Now then, I propose we stop wasting time and begin our little engagement, hm?" Professor Suss answered before turning around to get into a starting position.
As a man of the cloth, Vuzrak had been taught to always keep an open mind and treat everyone with respect and honour. But this little arrogant man made that really difficult right now. The Drow turned around as well as he firmly grabbed his ornate spear; surely Lady Eilistraee wouldn't take offence if he neglected to hold back here, right?
Once again, the mass of spectators quickly fell silent as the combatants tensed up. And up in the announcer's booth, Googlorp signalled for the explosion to start off the bout. Along with the golden countdown before it.
"3!"
"2!"
"1!"
"BEGIN!"
[KABOOOOM!]
Professor Suss started the battle without warning. Within seconds, he had created and fired a sharp spike made out of solid ice towards Vuzrak. The cleric was prepared, however, and grabbed his iron shield that'd been mounted on his back. Thus the magical shard of frozen water shattered against the shield, completely negating the attack. Vuzrak followed up by charging in towards the professor, attempting to close the distance and give himself an advantage over the likely long-range specialist. But as he came up to the Kobold and thrusted his trusty spear towards him, his attack missed by a country mile. Professor Suss might not have been anything close to strong, but he was fast. Very fast.
"Quick little fellow, isn't he. Lady Eilistraee, please guide my blows so that I may vanquish this opponent!" Vuzrak whispered to himself. As he closed his eyes, he lunged towards the nimble wizard again. Once again he rapidly thrusted his spear towards the professor, guided by the hand of his patron. And this time it seemed to work. Professor Suss had briefly lost his footing after narrowly avoiding attack after attack, leaving him wide open for the Drow to strike him. But right as the spear was about to pierce his frail body, the Kobold's brown eyes suddenly flashed a light blue colour. And for the briefest of moments Vuzrak's movements came to a halt.
The cleric was left dumbstruck as his spear arm was pulled backwards against his will. Almost like it repeated its own thrusting motion… in reverse. After he regained control over his arm and hit nothing but air as Professor Suss backed away, Vuzrak realised his mistake. He remembered Googlorp's words during the professor's introduction: "Time-related magic". He almost let out a curse before reminding himself of his vows, his unease now completely replaced by sheer annoyance. Not only was the wizard tiny and extraordinarily nimble, he could also briefly rewind Vuzrak's attacks enough to prevent them from landing. In other words, there was no way the much slower Drow could hit him dead-on.
"THE ROUND STARTS OFF WITH A TRADE OF SHARP ASSAULTS, BUT NEITHER SIDE HAS MANAGED TO LAND THEIR ATTACKS! PARTICULARLY CONTESTANT VUZRAK SEEMS TO BE IN A PICKLE; OUT OF WHAT MUST HAVE BEEN OVER 10 SPEAR THRUSTS, NONE OF THEM HAVE LANDED! WHAT WILL CONTESTANT PROFESSOR SUSS ANSWER WITH, AND WILL HE HAVE MORE LUCK THAN HIS OPPONENT?"
"As a matter of fact, I will" Professor Suss confidently whispered to himself.
As soon as Vuzrak had stopped "rewinding" the wizard once again pointed his thin staff towards him. The round glass orb attached to its end quickly became covered in a mucky green liquid, drops of it falling to the ground whereupon they made a sizzling noise. And merely seconds later the professor fired the glob of acid in the form of a thin missile. However, even this attack failed to leave an impact. The acid arrow struck the iron shield, and while it did burn a small mark into it it didn't reach its target. While it normally would have possibly been strong enough to melt right through it, it had been generated by a very small caster. What was a fairly large projectile to Professor Suss was nothing but a tiny dart for most people. Something the arrogant Kobold had failed to consider.
For a moment, Vuzrak simply stared at the small scar left in his shield. He shrugged his shoulders before rushing forward for yet another attempt with his spear, but the professor simply darted to the side again. The cleric groaned loudly; this wasn't working, that much was clear as day. He needed time to think, to come up with a new plan. Suddenly, his head jolted slightly as an idea came to him. It was high time that this puffed-up academic saw the light.
The still intrigued audience watched on in awe as Vuzrak's entire body began to emit a beautiful shimmering light. However, this sight didn't last very long. Because he started to glow brighter and brighter to the point that everyone - including Professor Suss - were forced to turn their gaze away. The light only lasted for a few seconds, but the cleric wasn't done yet. He started to mutter a few words in elvish under his breath, and when his opponent opened his eyes his still blurred vision registered a strange shape in front of him.
To everyone else its nature was obvious; four blue and white orbs of light, formed into a vaguely humanoid form. But to the blinded nearsighted professor it looked somewhat like Vuzrak. During all the action he hadn't noticed it himself, but his round glasses had fallen off after one dodge too many. With the real Vuzrak far behind the fake one, Professor Suss had successfully been fooled. But the Drow did not allow himself to drop his focus even for a moment. The Kobold's reflexes were still fast enough to threaten his plan, and thus he needed to strike very quickly. So he once again started to mutter something in elvish, and roughly 6 seconds later his eyes turned pitch black. Along with the area surrounding Professor Suss.
"AND NOW THE BRIGHTEST DAY TURNS INTO THE BLACKEST NIGHT AS CONTESTANT VUZRAK UNLEASHES A TO US FAMILIAR TRICK! JUST LIKE CONTESTANT JOHN DID BACK IN ROUND 1, THE SPECTRAL SENTINEL CLOAKS HIS OPPONENT IN PITCH-BLACK DARKNESS! CAN THE CHRONAL KOBOLD ESCAPE THIS BLACK HOLE? WE'RE ABOUT TO FIND OUT, FOLKS!"
Professor Suss had just managed to figure out that the shape in front of him was, in fact, not his opponent when every light around him went out. He had been surrounded by a large dome of darkness, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. The birthright of the Drow: the ability to call upon the gloom that was their home wherever needed. Vuzrak grabbed the warhammer that'd been mounted on his back behind his shield; this was his chance to land the first hit. The cleric rushed towards the dark sphere, weapon firmly grasped in both hands.
The professor's senses were still disoriented by the rapidly alternating light levels, but his mind was more determined than ever. He was a distinguished professor of the Harlow University of Magic and Sorcery. He was the smartest Kobold to have ever walked the planet. He was a master of chronorgy magic! He wasn't about to let some pretentious priest show him up like this, his pride wouldn't allow it. So he clutched his staff, preparing the spell that would give him the advantage back. This wasn't over just yet.
"If you can hear me out there, know this: I will not show you any mercy any longer, Drow! This next spell will send you back to the underdark faster than you can say 'Darkvision', and-"
[WHAM!]
The onlookers saw a small reddish-brown shape fly right out of the dark sphere like a missile, before crashing into the arena wall. In a pile laid Professor Suss; limbs twitching, glasses cracked and his broken jaw gagging. The wide-eyed audience looked back over to the now dissipating sphere, where they eventually saw Vuzrak with his hammer swung to the side. The Drow once again took an offensive stance, calling out to his opponent.
"I'm really starting to tire of your remarks, professor! For all your claims of superiority and all your insults about my visage, you still haven't managed to lay a hand on me! So come on out and prove your 'greatness' if you believe you can back it up!"
No answer. The whole arena had fallen silent, eagerly awaiting the Kobold's response. But the only response he gave were pained grunts and gags, and the only movements he mustered were quick uneven twitches. By now both Vuzrak and the crowd had gone from eagerly vigilant to plain old dumbstruck; this couldn't be it, right? Surely this wizard, who'd spent the last few minutes bragging about his stupendousness, wouldn't crumble to a single hammer strike? Everyone was about to find out; one of the fairy referees fluttered over to Professor Suss' mostly still form.
"10!"
"9!"
"8!"
"7!"
"6!"
"5!"
"4!"
"3!"
"2!"
"1!"
"K.O!"
The roaring cheers seemed a bit less roaring than usual, a hint of disappointment ringing through the air. The majority of the audience didn't seem to complain about the results, but it was obvious that everyone agreed the fight's conclusion had been… very anticlimactic. Even Vuzrak seemed taken aback, clearly not having expected his opponent to go down that easily.
"Wait, that was it? Hrrm- THAT'S IT, FOLKS! ONE SOLID BLOW WAS ALL IT TOOK TO END THIS BOUT, AND THAT BLOW CAME FROM CONTESTANT VUZRAK! THIS FIGHT LEFT A NOTABLE IMPRESSION DESPITE ITS SHORT LENGTH, THAT'S FOR SURE! AND IN THE END, CONTESTANT VUZRAK'S DIVINE DEVOTION AND… SUPERIOR FORTITUDE BROUGHT HIM THE VICTORY!"
At that moment, the shimmering white light once again washed over the battlefield. Professor Suss' broken bones fused back together, his jaw relocated itself to its proper spot and his broken scales reattached themselves to his body. Even his glasses were pulled back to his snout, restored back to their clear intact state. Vuzrak had little to no damage that needed fixing, although his stamina did return and the scars and bumps in his shield evened out. Compared to the previous round, the healing process did not take long.
As the groggy professor shakily rose to his feet, he looked up to see his opponent walking up to him. Vuzrak had tried to replace his bewildered expression with a smile, although it was clear as day that said smile wasn't very authentic. Nevertheless, as a cleric of Eilistraee he needed to display honour and respect to his opponent. He was representing the Dark Maiden after all. Despite his own thoughts regarding his opponent, he would still treat him - and everyone else - with dignity in the name of his patron. It was just who he was.
"I'm sorry, that must have been painful. But you fought well, professor! I hope you had a good time out there!" the Drow stated, his hand reaching out to the much shorter Professor Suss. But the Kobold did not shake it. He reached up towards it, but only so he could smack it away.
"Do not pity me, Drow! There is no way that a simple underdweller like you could have reasonably defeated a professor of chronurgy! This was a fluke, nothing more. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to than these ridiculous games!" Professor Suss practically spit out, before turning right around to hastily march out of the arena.
And for the first time, the audience did not cheer or gasp or even stay silent. Hundreds of thousands of people were now all booing towards one singular person, with even his relatively few supporters having changed their mind. Yet among the discontented cacophony, Vuzrak could do nothing but shake his head in disappointment and frustration. At least he'd won, and therefore come a bit closer to his end goal regarding the tournament. There was always that.
"AND WITH THAT, WE'LL… COMMEND CONTESTANT PROFESSOR SUSS' PERFORMANCE AS HE WALKS OUT OF THIS TOURNAMENT. AND WE'LL THANK CONTESTANT VUZRAK FOR HIS QUICK AND IMPRESSIVE VICTORY! BUT NOW, EVERYONE, IT IS TIME FOR THE 8TH ROUND! IT IS TIME FOR THE LAST BOUT OF TODAY, AND THERE WE WILL FIND OUT WHAT IS TRULY SUPERIOR… BRAINS OR BRAWN! LET'S FINISH THE FIRST STEP OF THIS GRAND JOURNEY!"
As Vuzrak headed back towards the red corner's waiting room, his thoughts were scattered all over the place. On one hand he was satisfied with his victory and how the most annoying Kobold he'd ever met had been taken out of the contest, but on the other hand he was conflicted once more. Because the next fighter to take the stage was his fellow Drow of Universe 1. Next up was Pulse. The one he cared about so much was only a few metres away, and was about to enter probably the biggest fight of her life. As soon as that thought entered Vuzrak's head, so did all the anxiety and worries he'd managed to suppress during the fight. But he clutched the sides of his head to focus his thoughts; he was better than this. Moments later the cleric had calmed down, before taking a deep breath as he entered the room. He could deal with those thoughts later. Right now, he had a brief moment to once again see Pulse. One brief moment to see his-
…aaaand she wasn't here. Unless she'd grown almost 3 feet, gained about 400 pounds of muscle and turned her skin green.
Since the bench hadn't been able to handle her immense weight, Alva had settled for leaning against the wall as she impatiently waited for her turn. So the sight of that silent shorty of a Drow was very welcome to her, if only because it meant the wait was over. Anything was better than staying in this cramped room any longer. But something about the look on Vuzrak's face was quickly getting annoying to her. She was very much used to people staring at her, but not this way. He looked a bit intimidated, sure, but also… disappointed?
"Hey. Midget. The hell are you looking at?" the massive Half-Orc snarled, slowly but staunchly walking up right next to him as she did.
Vuzrak staggered a bit upon this, almost as if snapping out of a trance. He gave a quick bow towards the irked giant.
"Oh, sorry. I was just expecting someone else", the Drow sheepishly answered. By now he was actually trembling a bit; Alva seemed even more colossal up close. Vuzrak wasn't the tallest guy ever - only just over 160 cm or so - but even so he was only about eye level with her stomach, for Eilistraee's sake. There was no way her size was natural; it had to be the result of some outside source. This only made Vuzrak even more worried about Pulse. Would she be okay going up against this… this mountain?
"Right, the redhead I assume? She'd be over in the other room, unless she's wet herself in fear. I'll try not to break her in half out there!" Alva bellowed. Seeing people get so terrified of her was just the best; she couldn't help but egg them on. However, the warrior's last comment had helped Vuzrak push aside his unease. It had been replaced by defensive confidence, maybe even a hint of anger.
"Look here, miss, as long as I'm around you will not break apart my-"
Vuzrak was interrupted as Alva brushed past him, completely ignoring his little speech. He had barely been in contact with her leg as it grazed his side, but even that was enough to cause his armoured body to stumble backwards. This lady wasn't just strong; she was the very definition of power. The shaken Drow didn't bother to continue his statement, instead opting to leave for the watching area. Something told him Pulse needed all the encouragement she could get.
As Alva marched through the cramped corridor, her confident expression suddenly became serious. This upcoming fight - hell, this entire tournament - would be a breeze, but she still needed to take this as seriously as possible. If she lost here, at the grandest of stages, her reputation would never recover. She was the undefeated champion back home, and that title carried respect. Respect that she definitely needed to maintain if her family were to persist.
She had to win this.
"Right then… Cannon: check. Shield: check. Hand: check. Good, everything's in working order".
In the other waiting room, the redheaded Drow prepared for the fight in her own way. As someone who'd spent practically her entire life in various workshops, Pulse didn't have anything like physical strength or huge weapons to rely on. The only weapon she'd ever needed was her gifted mind. Or rather, the marvellous inventions that mind could think up. Inventions which, thankfully, all seemed to be working as intended right now. The artificer carefully placed everything too large to carry personally back into her Bag of Holding, before leaning back to take a deep breath. Just like her fellow Drow representative, her thoughts were all over the place.
Pulse was not very confident about her chances here. She'd spent most of her time analysing her fellow contestants, trying to figure out who would most likely be the winner. And Alva, the one she was just about to go up against, had a colossal 63,54% chance of winning. The second and third highest, Prime and Ashes respectively, both only had about 10%. Pulse herself? Just 7,7%. However, she did not plan on going down easily. All her analyses meant that she knew everyone's greatest strengths - and biggest weaknesses. Even the seemingly indomitable Alva had exploitable flaws, and as long as those remained then there was a chance. And as long as there was a chance, then she would keep aiming for victory.
Her mental train of thought was suddenly derailed, as light but frantic footsteps could be heard from the corridor. Professor Suss, fresh from his humiliating bout with Vuzrak, was rapidly approaching the room. He sure didn't seem very happy, at least from what Pulse could gather from his scowl, brisk pace and fierce murmurs under his breath. Suddenly, the Kobold stopped dead in his tracks, glaring at Pulse with an intensity rivalling few. The unnerved inventor went from dismissively lost in thought to curiously anxious. If a bit vexed.
"...What? Did I offend you or something?" she answered somewhat aggressively. But the somewhat hidden anger in her voice, born from receiving more negative looks like these throughout her life than she could possibly count, was nothing compared to the professor's answer.
"Correct, young lady! I have been thoroughly disrespected out there by that dimwitted Drow, and what is the next face I lay eyes upon? Somebody so similar to him that it's plain and simply aggravating!" the livid Kobold practically snarled.
"Brutish idiots, all of you. Can't even fathom the meaning of the word 'arcana', I bet."
By now Pulse completely snapped. She didn't even know this guy, and now he's spouting racist nonsense based on someone he'd just met? Not that she hadn't heard that before, but this little prick was among the worst.
"Oh, you mean one of the fundamental laws of the multiverse? The counterbalance to the laws of physics that surrounds all materia? The force that everyone is connected to via their own naturally generated biomagic, some being able to manipulate it? Why yes, I DO know the meaning of it! Only studied it for maybe 10 years or so, nothing major! I, who due to my genetics am clearly nothing but a moron, surprisingly know more about arcana than you know about basic decency!"
Pulse was practically shouting at this point, but she didn't care. This fucker had not only insulted her based on her heritage, but had also really crossed a line and insulted her intellect. She was this close to just hitting him right there and then, consequences be damned.
Luckily for her, the professor didn't answer. Frankly, he was in shock. Pulse's unflinching description of the arcane laws had been said with such clarity and accuracy that there was no way he could make a counterargument. Not only that, but even he - an esteemed professor of the Harlow University of Magic and Sorcery - didn't know about the biomagic part. And for once, he was willing to back down. Maybe, just maybe, she was actually smarter than he was. Of course, this was not something he was willing to admit. Not even to himself.
"I… uh… hrrm, have some pressing matters to attend to. So if you'll excuse me…" Professor Suss stuttered as he shuffled away and out of the room. Pulse was about to shout some more corrections after him, but decided to leave well enough alone. Now she felt better. It wasn't often she got to win an argument about her heritage; most people were too simple to understand her counterarguments. With a smirk, she turned around and headed towards the packed arena. Better go now while her spirits were still somewhat high.
And as the artificer steadily walked to the battlefield, her expression turned stern. Her odds might have been low, but that was not going to stop her. Her planned countermeasures would have to work, they just had to. Otherwise she could kiss that victory goodbye, and she couldn't allow that to happen. Winning was the only way she could prove her point. And she desperately needed to do that. She needed to prove what she was made of, here on the grandest stage of all.
She had to win this.
The multiversal tournament was just one fight away from ending its first round, but it was not even close to hitting its peak yet.