The greatest in the Multiverse
Round 3: The Verdant Protector vs the Hammer of Tempus
"NOW THEN FOLKS, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO: IT'S TIME FOR OUR NEXT SET OF COMBATANTS TO MAKE THEIR ENTRANCE!"
The inexhaustible crowd eagerly observed the gigantic white-scaled Dragonborn confidently make his way to the arena's centre. As soon as he reached it, he planted his massive ornate greatsword into the ground as he calmly waved and nodded towards the audience. Humility was clearly nothing he lacked, that much was certain.
"IN THE BLUE CORNER, WE HAVE UNIVERSE 14'S HAMMER OF TEMPUS! AT 25 YEARS OF AGE, HE HAS ALREADY MADE A NAME FOR HIMSELF BACK HOME AS A FORMER WEIGHTLIFTING CHAMPION! AND AFTER… UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES FORCED HIM INTO A CAREER CHANGE, HE HAS SINCE BECOME DEVOTED TO SPREADING THE WORD AND TEACHINGS OF THE WAR GOD TEMPUS! WILL THAT DEVOTION BE ENOUGH TO TAKE THE WIN HERE, OR WILL THIS BE A REPEAT OF THE PREVIOUS ROUND WHERE NATURAL FORCES PIERCE RIGHT THROUGH SCALES? SHOW US YOUR STRENGTH: CONTESTAAAANT OWEN!"
Owen frowned a bit at Googlorp's introduction speech. Did he really have to include that part about his "career change"? He still had bad memories of that incident. Nevertheless, he shook his head and kept up his smile. That wasn't important right now. He had a fight coming right up, after all.
"AND IN THE RED CORNER, HIS OPPONENT: THE VERDANT PROTECTOR FROM UNIVERSE 10! FOR 31 YEARS SHE PROTECTED THE GROVE SHE CALLS HOME, AND FOR 114 YEARS SINCE HER SPIRIT HAS PROTECTED THE AFTERLIFE! BUT NOW SHE HAS GAINED A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE, AND WHAT BETTER WAY TO START THAT OFF THAN WITH A MULTIVERSAL TOURNAMENT? WILL HER ELEMENTAL PROWESS PROVE TOO MUCH FOR HER FOE, OR WILL SHE BE OVERWHELMED BY HIS SHEER DIVINE MIGHT? COMING UP: CONTESTAAAANT BASTION!"
The little frail robot didn't even address the excited crowd around her, instead steadily looking down at the floor. Even the moss covering her iron chassis seemed dim and colourless, and her thin arms of intertwined wood slumped towards the ground. As she reached the middle of the arena, she looked up towards Owen. A deep sigh escaped her voice box.
"Well, let's get this over with. Greetings and salutations and all that, but I really don't see what the point is here." Bastion's high-pitched, but mature voice echoed with a metallic philter. She put up her hand for a handshake towards Owen, who had to go down on one knee to reach it. He took it as gently as he could, but the wooden construct still visibly flinched as he shook her hand. The gigantic Dragonborn could clearly see that something was troubling his opponent, and tried to break the ice.
"How so, if I may ask? I can understand if the huge crowd seems unnerving, but as long as you think about something else then you won't even notice they're there!" Owen had never been good at reading people. Bastion harboured a lot of worries right now, but the onlooking audience wasn't even close to the top of that list. She simply shook her head.
"No, I… look, you're like 10 times my size and from what I've gathered a full-fledged warrior. I have a body the size of a dwarf and a limited pool of elemental magic. How, pray tell, would I stand even the slightest chance here?"
Bastion had more or less given up as soon as yesterday's opening ceremonies had concluded. The moment she had seen her randomly picked opponent, the artificial druid had been cursing her own luck. Why couldn't she have fought that red-headed Drow or maybe the Kobold with the glasses first? At least then it probably would've been somewhat even. Her soul had just been brought back from the dead, she didn't want to lose it again already.
Owen simply looked at her, his eyes hinting at a sense of pity for the extremely blunt construct with the crushed spirit. But his somewhat vacant stare, contrasting with his usual outgoing self, alluded to the gears turning inside his head. He clearly had gotten some form of idea. He simply held up a fist towards the sullen Bastion as he smiled confidently towards her, not even seeming to mind being left hanging.
"I see. But you'll never know unless you try. What is better: To give in immediately and never know for sure what the outcome could've been, or try anyway and feel pride in that you did your best? Think about that, then strike at me when you've made the right decision. I'll wait, that's a promise."
Owen rose to his feet as he grabbed his greatsword and walked a few metres back as a suddenly conflicted Bastion stood still in silence. Maybe Owen had a point. She was gonna lose this anyway, but maybe she owed it to herself to not go down without at least trying to fight. But then again, that was simply prolonging the inevitable. What difference would an extra minute or so of resistance do? Her thoughts went back and forth like a pendulum as her opponent simply sat down, patiently waiting for her to make up her mind.
But the self-proclaimed beloved Plasmoid in the announcers booth was not as patient, and as soon as Owen sat down on the ground the countdown had started.
"3!"
"2!"
"1!"
"BEGIN!"
The explosion above the arena signalled that the battle was on, and that there would be no more time to relax. The time to fight was now.
It was at this point that Bastion finally made her decision. And with a deep sigh, teeming with feelings of surely impending regret, she planted her wooden arms on - or rather, in - the ground. The area surrounding her began to quake and heave, small cracks forming as the very earth beneath the fighters uprooted. And since the unprepared Owen was sitting right in the middle of this tremor, he took the full force of it as he fell backwards headfirst into a small precipice. A few seconds later, the tremor stopped and the earth settled. Owen slowly rose to his feet while clutching the back of his head. He had slammed the back of his head into a rock-hard edge of earth and stone, but all it had done to his thick hide was open a small barely bleeding wound.
"Well well, so you did choose to fight back. Excellent! But I sure hope you can do better than that. You're gonna need to!" Owen declared. He clearly hadn't expected Bastion's first attack to come from below, but other than creating a tiny scar the tremor hadn't seemed to do much to him. With greatsword in hands, he quickly started to make his way towards the druid. As fast as he could on the scarred and uprooted earth, at least.
"CONTESTANT BASTION STARTS OFF BY SHAKING THE VERY BATTLEFIELD ITSELF! BUT WHILE IT CERTAINLY HIT ITS MARK, THE EARTHQUAKE BARELY SEEMED TO EVEN INCONVENIENCE CONTESTANT OWEN! AND NOW THE HULKING WAR PALADIN MOVES IN FOR A COUNTERATTACK!"
Bastion had flinched in surprise. Not only had her attack hit, but it had actually caused some damage. Very little damage, yes, but it had proved that Owen wasn't completely invincible. But she could think more about her great success later, preferably sometime when her foe wasn't rushing up to her with a greatsword twice her size. Owen now cast a looming shadow over Bastion as he brought the sword down right towards her.
[BBROOOMM!]
The white and gold coloured weapon struck nothing but dirt with enough force to split a fully grown pine tree in half. Bastion had jumped to the side moments before the attack hit, but the sheer impact had caused her to stumble and almost lose her balance. And for a moment, her already shaky resolve stumbled as well. If that strike had hit her, she would've been killed. And she knew that. Maybe giving up here was the best course of action after all…
"What's wrong, you're not gonna try to attack again? Was that little earthquake really the best you had? Don't tell me I was wrong about you…"
Owen's sudden remark caused the wooden robot to twitch. Something about being dismissed and looked down upon caused something to stir within her, despite the fact she had spent the last day telling herself the almost exact same words. Bastion's shaking hands tensed up as she clutched her spruce staff tightly. The previously dim moss on her chassis now seemed a lot more colourful, even a bit reddish, as she replied to Owen's words.
"You know what? No. No, you weren't."
At that moment, everyone in the previously completely windstill arena felt a small gust of wind blowing. The mild breeze coalesced around the intensely focused Bastion, growing fiercer and stronger by the second. And soon it had turned into a small but full-fledged hurricane, howling around the druid in the controlled form of a sphere. Owen had needed to put his arms up in front of his face to protect himself from the gale, but behind the defensive posture he could be seen smiling. Not a cocky smile, nor an enthusiastic one. But a sincere warm smile, showing hints of pride. It became clear to him that he didn't need to provoke her anymore. And inside the wind barrier, Bastion had a few words to share. Not that anyone heard them over the crashing storm.
"Be careful what you wish for, paladin of Tempus! But I suppose I should thank you for getting me going!"
With those words, Bastion unleashed the Wind Wall. The metal druid waved her thin arms around almost like a conductor, the raging storm bending and moving to her will. Bending and moving right towards Owen. The Dragonborn's eyes suddenly went wide as the powerful winds rapidly approached him, only one word managing to escape his throat before the impact.
"Shit…"
Owen was struck from the side by the full force of a small hurricane, soon finding himself right in the middle of a huge wall of wind reaching from the left side of the arena all the way to the right. And it hurt. The wild tempest crashed into him from both sides, and any regular person would have been flattened by the impact. But the living mountain known as Owen Whitlock wasn't any regular person. With two strained steps forward, he broke out of the Wind Wall. Although his heavy breathing and bruised arms showed that he hadn't escaped completely unscathed.
"FROM THE GROUND, TO THE SKY, CONTESTANT BASTION KEEPS LAYING THE HURT ON CONTESTANT OWEN! BUT NOT EVEN A RAGING WIND WALL IS A MATCH FOR THE PALADIN'S SHEER STRENGTH, IT SEEMS! ALTHOUGH IT LOOKS TO HAVE CAUSED HIM SOME SERIOUS DAMAGE, AND NOT ONLY THAT, BUT HE STILL HAS YET TO LAND A BLOW ON THE VERDANT PROTECTOR! RIGHT NOW, THE WINDS ARE BLOWING IN CONTESTANT BASTION'S FAVOUR!"
By now, Owen had started to realise what he'd gotten himself into. The little robot who had claimed to be completely outmatched had proven that she could indeed damage him, and if he didn't start fighting for real he could actually lose this. But at the same time, he didn't feel even a speck of fear or regret. Bastion had proven her worth not only to him, but more importantly to herself. And even if he lost here, in the very first round, then he would be content. Content that he had helped someone drive back her inner demons, even at the cost of his own success. That was just who he was. But he hadn't lost yet, and he wasn't planning to. He was ready to fight tooth and claw to win, no matter how determined his opponent was.
"Well, look at you! That storm spell really put a number on me! If you keep this up I'm gonna have to put in all the effort I have if I want to beat you!" Owen shouted, his words almost deafened by the loud wind behind him. And by now Bastion's doubts were almost completely forgotten. Her single glowing eye shone brighter than ever, and even the moss covering the metal on her body seemed to sport a lighter hue of green than before. She just needed to hit Owen with one or two more attacks like that, and then she could win. At least, that's what she thought. But right in the middle of her excited thoughts, she was interrupted. By an immense pain the likes of which she had never felt before.
[SLSSH-CRACK!]
While the tiny construct had been distracted by her own thoughts, her opponent had run up to her and delivered a gigantic slash with his greatsword. The massive blade had hit Bastion dead-on, and the sheer shock had prevented her from even realising what had happened. Until she shakily turned her head around, and saw her right arm and leg lying severed on the ground. And that's when the pain hit her.
"YYAAAAAARRGHH!"
Despite lacking flesh and nerves, Bastion's very soul was connected to every inch of her wooden frame. Thus the violent loss of two limbs felt every bit as painful to her as it would to any flesh-and-blood being. A shocked gasp surged through the crowd at the sight of this devastating blow, and even Owen himself reeled back after he landed it.
"By Tempus, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean to hit you that hard, I…"
The paladin stopped in the middle of his stunned apology, as if he was collecting his thoughts. A moment later, he shook his head and pulled back his sword as he solemnly looked down at the wounded druid.
"No, I can't let my guard down again. I'm happy that you have regained your confidence, I really am. But this is still a competition, and I wouldn't be a true follower of Tempus' ideals if I willingly let myself be defeated. You fought well, Bastion of Universe 10. You truly did."
With these words, Owen raised his sword upward to deliver the final blow. Bastion, now lying on the ground writhing in pain, seemed to have lost all hope. Her light blue eye was blinking slowly, and the plants on her body seemed to have wilted slightly. And just as her body had been torn apart, her spirit had been reduced to its prior crushed state. Her body was in pieces, her opponent was about to finish her off and her vision was getting blurry. This was it. She lost, and now she was about to die for a second time. And eventually, Bastion's vision went dark as she lost the last slivers of consciousness.
Suddenly, her eye lit right up. Bastion hastily looked around, only to find out she wasn't in the arena anymore. Her arm and leg were back where they belonged, but she still felt too weak to move. And all around her was a very familiar sight. Bastion was back in the Hollow Grove, the deep forest she had spent all of her life protecting. And that's when she realised it. This open clearing, her weakened body, the animals currently surrounding her… it was all like before. This was the moment before her metal body had given up after more than three decades of no upkeep. The moment right before she had died.
"I understand…" Bastion thought to herself. Since she was about to die a second time, it only made sense for her mind to flash back to her first demise. She weakly raised her hand to reach out towards a small sparrow, one of many animals who had come to say farewell. The little bird fluttered towards her, perching on her finger. And right as the druid was about to once again close her eye for the final time, the sparrow - just like the first time - chirped out a sound.
"Bastion!"
Huh? What was that? Bastion's dimming eye lit up again as she looked back at the sparrow. She was certain; it had just spoken her name. But that was impossible. The only way Bastion could understand animal speech was with a specific spell, and at this moment she had been in no position to cast it. But then… how?
"Bastion! Bastion! Bastion!"
Now all the other animals spoke up as well, the singular statement having turned into a repeated chant. And that's when it hit her. Now she understood why all the forest animals possessed the ability to speak. Because it wasn't them. She wasn't about to die for a second time. Because she hadn't lost yet. And unlike what had happened the first time, Bastion stood up.
"Bastion! Bastion! BasTION! BASTION!"
About half of the crowd loudly screamed in excitement as the druid began to move her remaining arm. Their cheers and chanting had paid off; Bastion was still in the game. How long she had been out, she did not know. But Owen was still looming over her, mumbling a prayer with his eyes closed. But as the audience erupted in excitement, he realised that his opponent was awake. Without lowering his sword, he gave a brief smile. At his core, he was relieved that his opponent wasn't out yet.
"CONTESTANT BASTION IS STILL CONSCIOUS! I REPEAT: CONTESTANT BASTION IS STILL CONSCIOUS! IS THIS THE POWER OF BELIEF? THE VERDANT PROTECTOR OF UNIVERSE 10 HAS WOKEN UP THANKS TO THE INTENSE CHANTING FROM THE AUDIENCE! IT'S NOT OVER YET!"
A fairy referee fluttered away from Bastion with a frown on her face; clearly she didn't enjoy her countdown being interrupted. But interrupted it was, and the living construct was stirring. She raised her left arm towards Owen, giving a quick plea.
"S-seems you got me. Doesn't look like I can get out of this one intact, huh. B-but before you finish me, will you do me one last favour?"
Owen stood still with his sword still raised skyward, as if pondering about Bastion's question. But eventually he answered.
"Of course, I have sworn to help those who need it. What do you ask?"
Bastion did not have any facial features, but she didn't need any to show her confident feelings. And as she clutched her hand, she replied.
"I want you to ask yourself if it really was a good idea to point a long piece of metal straight to the sky."
With that, Owen looked up and realised too late what everyone watching had already seen. A small patch of dark clouds, sparks flying in between them. The surprised Dragonborn barely had time to widen his eyes in panic before the thunderbolt struck his sword. He had been too distracted by the little robot's feint, and now he paid for it in the form of thousands of volts coursing through every inch of his gigantic body.
[CRAAKKKOOWWW!]
The shock, both the literal and the figurative, was unlike anything Owen had ever felt before. All of his limbs twitched and flailed uncontrollably as he let out a stuttered and pained scream, sounding more like a bestial roar than anything. And even though the lightning only struck him for a second or two, for Owen it felt like an entire minute. Moments later the storm subsided, as Bastion didn't appear to make the act of keeping the spell active a priority. But the aftermath clearly showed that the single lightning strike had done its job well.
The Dragonborn's stark white scales had been scorched and blackened in places, and several of them had been burned off to reveal open flesh wounds. But these wounds were nothing in comparison to the state of his sword. The previously so imposing and gleaming sword had been reduced to a burnt rolled-up crisp, completely useless for any form of combat. But despite taking the full force of a lightning bolt, Owen had not even fallen to his knees. He stumbled a bit, yes, but not much more. This result did not go unnoticed by Bastion, who quickly came to a hasty conclusion.
"I need to end this, fast!" she thought to herself. She decided to take advantage of the still stunned state of her opponent and quickly dragged herself towards her severed arm and leg, still lying on the ground. The druid grabbed a hold of her right arm and pressed it against her shoulder where it belonged, and almost as soon as the wooden limb touched its socket it became surrounded in a shimmering dark green light. Slowly but surely, the wood began to intertwine with the shoulder as the arm was reattaching itself.
"Ooh ooh ooh, she's using my spell! Go little miss robot, you can do it!" Over in the contestant's watching area, the artificial druid was observed by a fellow nature lover. Root practically bounced up and down as she saw a technique she recognized, but she eventually stopped as a large red hand was placed on her shoulder. Root looked up to see her almost 7 ft. tall tiefling friend adorned with a wide-brimmed hat looking out onto the battlefield. Over the last day, Root had started to get along well with Ashes of Universe 7. And that budding friendship went both ways, as Ashes smiled towards her new little buddy.
"Well hun, it is a pretty common spell."
(Note: We here at the Tournament Recording Team have felt the need to translate Contestant Ashes' heavy southern accent to regular Common. This will help you wonderful viewers to understand even a single word coming from her.)
"Do you still think mister Dragonborn can win? He's looking pretty hurt right now… I hope he's okay" Root said. Her intense defeat of Gameron in the previous round had done nothing to diminish her caring nature, and even though she had cheered for Bastion the entire match she was still worrying over Owen's condition. Ashes kept her hand on Root's shoulder as she reassured her genasi pal.
"That fella has endured a lightning bolt and what was more or less a tornado. If ya ask me, he looks far from out. So don't you worry. Meanwhile, the lil' contraption seems to be in anything but apple-pie order. But, then again…"
The two contestants' attention was drawn back to the battlefield, just like it was for everyone else in the massive crowd. Something was about to happen, and that something could decide the final outcome once and for all.
"...I could be wrong."
Bastion had managed to reattach both of her severed limbs, just in time before Owen regained his composure. Both fighters had taken a heavy beating, but despite being hit by what essentially amounted to a thunderstorm the giant Dragonborn still seemed to have energy to spare. Meanwhile, his mechanical opponent was struggling to even move. Owen clearly had the advantage, and Bastion knew that. But she was not planning to give up. Not at all. She still had one last trick up her sleeve, and that would have to be enough. She glanced over to the contestant's watching area, and silently apologised to the attentive Root.
"Sorry about this, young lady, but I'm gonna borrow your move for a bit!" Bastion thought to herself. She grabbed her spruce staff from the ground and once again planted it in the coarse dirt. Owen had been starting yet another prayer after recovering from the lightning bolt, but was suddenly interrupted by something grabbing all four of his limbs. Just like contestant Gameron before him, he had been entangled in a set of thick vines. Upon seeing this Root was pointing and screaming in glee, but Bastion didn't notice. She was far too busy channelling all the strength she still had into her now brightly glowing staff.
"FOLKS, LOOKS LIKE CONTESTANT BASTION IS MOVING IN FOR THE BIG FINALE! SEEMS SHE'S TAKEN A PAGE OR TWO FROM CONTESTANT ROOT'S BOOK BY COMBINING AN ENTANGLE SPELL WITH A HUGE BEAM FINISHER! BUT THE QUESTION REMAINS: WILL IT BE ENOUGH? HOLD ON TO YOUR SEATS EVERYONE, THIS MANOEUVRE WILL DECIDE EVERYTHING!"
Owen pulled and tugged at the vines with all his might. Unlike the physically weak Gameron, the exceedingly brawny paladin knew he could free himself from his restraints given a minute or so. But given the steadily increasing amount of magic gathering in his opponent's staff, he didn't seem to have even that much time. And if that spell was the one he thought it was, then he was very much uncertain if he could take it and still stand afterwards. Owen's mind quickly straggled to find a way out of this, and it didn't take long for him to find an answer. All he needed to do was to place his trust in the divine Foehammer, like he always had and always would. And thus, restrained by thick plant matter and with a big charging beam attack only 10 metres away, the Dragonborn started to pray.
"Tempus, oh almighty Lord of Battles, I beg for your blessing to allow me to defeat my opponent. Please, lend me strength in order to win this heated battle!"
Almost immediately, Owen's prayer was answered. And in front of an entire stunned audience, the paladin was surrounded in a fiery aura as his already huge frame began to grow even larger.
Every muscle in Owen's body visibly grew bigger, stronger and denser. And after only a few seconds, the glowing aura subsided to reveal an even more massive Dragonborn than before. By now his arms alone were thicker than his own head, and his legs were so large that they brushed against each other. Tempus had listened and given his devout follower just what he needed. With this sudden burst of strength, tearing through the vines took barely any effort. But by now, Bastion was ready to unleash her final move. She was more or less Owen's physical opposite right now - the moss covering her body had shrivelled up and wilted, and her wooden limbs seemed dry and stiff - but she didn't care. She could still win, even if it cost her.
"I don't care how big you are, I'm not giving in! Let's see what your god can do against the pure power of the sun!"
And with those uncharacteristically boasting words, Bastion fired the golden Sunbeam. The huge blast, larger than Bastion's entire body, roared towards the powered-up Dragonborn at an alarming speed. But Owen didn't even try to evade it. Instead, he simply grinned. And without warning, he threw himself into the incoming attack. The entire crowd gasped at this sudden move, and even Bastion jolted her head backwards. What on earth was he thinking?
"EVERYONE, THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE! CONTESTANT OWEN LUNGES STRAIGHT TOWARDS CONTESTANT BASTION'S ATTACK, AND ENDS UP GETTING SWALLOWED WHOLE BY IT! I DON'T SEE HOW HE'S GONNA GET OUT OF THIS IN ONE PIECE FOLKS, SO IT LOOKS LI- WAIT, IS HE…"
The audience lost it completely. Googlorp almost fell out of his seat. And the strained but determined Bastion let out a bewildered gasp.
"CONTESTANT OWEN IS BULLDOZING THROUGH THE SUNBEAM BY SHEER FORCE ALONE!"
Every part of Owen's hulking body burned in pain. But right now, he didn't give a damn. All thoughts had been swallowed by his sheer lust for battle, and all he could see in front of him was a foe to defeat. With each thundering step the very earth shook as he came closer and closer to his grunting opponent. Bastion pushed back with a determination and grit worthy of song, but in the end it wasn't enough. And with one booming roar, the Dragonborn emerged right in front of the natural wonder on the other side of the Sunbeam. His enormous arm was raised and his hand was clenched into a fist. And as he threw it, everything went black for Bastion.
Time seemed to stop for the briefest of moments. The full-force punch had connected, and the impact was enough to create a visible shockwave pulsating through the air around the combatants. And then the effects were felt. Bastion's frail body had never taken a blow of this magnitude; even the greatsword earlier couldn't be compared to this. So it gave in. Metal shards and wooden splinters scattered everywhere as the construct's body exploded in countless pieces, and her mind couldn't even process what had just happened before it snuffed out. As the Sunbeam fizzled out, so did Bastion's soul. The battle was over, and the victor was clear.
As the dust settled, not a single sound was heard throughout the entire arena. The entire audience had fallen silent, Owen quietly stared wide-eyed at the remains of his foe and even Googlorp had no bombastic commentary to add. Every single mind in the arena was trying to process what had just happened. Finally, the silence was broken by the fluttering wings of a fairy referee. The tiny flyer went around checking Bastion's remains, as if to make sure that she was truly gone. Finally, he announced what everyone already knew.
"L.K.O: LETHAL KNOCKOUT!"
About half the people in the crowd started to cheer loudly once again, but the other half remained still and horrified. This they shared with Owen. He fell to his knees as his engorged muscles shrank back to normal, his hands shaking uncontrollably. But mere seconds after his legs hit the floor, the field was slowly being covered in a dim light. But not the white light that had healed the combatants following the previous round. This light was a shimmering azure colour, and unlike the all-encompassing white healing light this one only covered Bastion's blown-apart body. A great weight was lifted from Owen's chest as the broken pieces of metal and wood started to magically pull themselves together. Turns out that Googlorp had been correct in what he said during the opening ceremonies: There would, in fact, be no deaths in the tournament. At least none that would stick.
The paladin wasted no time. He pulled his tired body up from the floor and went over to grab as many splintered pieces of his fallen opponent as he could, before quickly placing them as close as possible to the quickly reassembling main body. He had reduced Bastion to this state after all, it was only right that he did what he could to atone for it. Splinters reattached to twigs and branches, metal shards fused back together and inner wirings were reattached. And moments later, a bright blue light lit up from inside the restored head. The druid had come back from death's door a second time.
"(A-AHEM) AND WITH THAT, THE BATTLE IS OVER! CONTESTANT BASTION PUT UP AS MUCH OF A FIGHT AS SHE POSSIBLY COULD, ALTHOUGH IN THE END CONTESTANT OWEN TAKES THE VICTORY! THAT K.O. BLOW LOOKED DEVASTATING, BUT THANKFULLY THE NATURAL WONDER OF UNIVERSE 10 IS STILL WITH US! WHAT A CLIMACTIC END TO A VERY INTENSE FIGHT!"
Bastion shakily stood up, but otherwise showed no signs of having just died and come back to life. As a matter of fact, she hadn't even realised it herself. The last thing she could recall was the brief image of a borderline frenzied Owen emerging from her Sunbeam with his fist raised, then the next thing she knew she woke up on the ground. And Googlorp had used the word "K.O blow" after all, nothing implying anything more serious. But right now, there were no feelings of shock or doubt left in her artificial heart. Only pride and satisfaction, though maybe there was a hint of disappointment somewhere in there too. Losing was never fun after all. She walked over to the oddly relieved-looking Dragonborn as the ground beneath them started to give off that shimmering healing light that they had seen in the prior matches, their depleted energies slowly replenishing.
"Well, guess we both proved our points there. You did beat me, just like I thought you would. But at the same time, I can't say I feel that bad about it. You were right, big guy. I did everything within my capabilities, and that's good enough. Thanks for snapping me out of that funk!"
The little metallic being stretched out her hand towards the much larger paladin, who took it as gently as he could and shook it. Owen had already decided to not tell her about her temporary death; she seemed content right now after all, and he did not want to risk crushing her spirits again. In that regard, he had accomplished exactly what he had hoped.
"Glad to hear that, miss Bastion. Maybe it went a bit too well, I can definitely imagine this fight having ended the other way around! The winds of Tempus merely blew in my direction today, that's all. But regardless, that was a fantastic fight, and I'm glad I got to face you first!"
The paladin of Tempus laughed a bit as he expressed his thanks. He hadn't been in a fight this fun in ages, and besides the part where he had lost control and accidentally taken Bastion's life he had enjoyed every minute of it. The two combatants respectfully bowed towards each other, before turning around to leave the battlefield behind them. All to the deafening cheers from the entire crowd.
"AND WITH THAT, LET'S GIVE A BIG THANKS TO CONTESTANT BASTION FOR HER DEFIANT PERFORMANCE HERE TODAY! AND LET'S CONGRATULATE CONTESTANT OWEN FOR HIS GLORIOUS VICTORY, WHICH WILL TAKE HIM TO THE QUARTERFINALS! THERE HE WILL FACE… WELL, WE'RE ALL ABOUT TO FIND OUT SOON! NOW WE'LL RAPIDLY MOVE ON THE FOURTH ROUND, WHERE WE SHALL SEE WHO WILL PREVAIL… IN A CLASH OF BLADE AGAINST FANG!"
As a tired but satisfied Owen walked down the corridor back towards the waiting room, he was met with a robust blue-scaled figure. Morgan Sarun of Universe 11 was waiting for him, arms outstretched and with his trademark resounding guffaw.
"Hahaha, what a spectacle! Congrats old chum, you sure showed her what for!"
Morgan's optimistic spirit seemed impossible to dampen even by a little. Despite everything going on during the fight, despite all the heavy elemental hits striking his friend, he had never shown even a hint of worry. He believed that Owen could win, so therefore the result was obvious to him.
"She never really stood a chance against a Hammer of Tempus, now did she? Bwahahahaha!" he continued. But Owen simply shook his head as he sported a calm smile.
"I meant every word I said out there, my friend. If she had gone all out from the beginning, then I doubt I would have left the battlefield in one piece. The sole reason I'm still in this competition is because Tempus favoured me today. Nothing more, nothing less." The earnest look in the paladin's eyes was enough to convince the jovial Mosasaurus hybrid. A devoted follower of the divine would never lie after all, even the much less religious Morgan knew that. Especially when regarding a friend. Morgan put his smooth hand on Owen's shoulder as he moved to another subject.
"Well then, now it's my turn to - as you elegantly put it - try and stay in this competition! Let's meet up in the next round, shall we?"
Owen burst out into a mild laughter himself. The energy of this man was simply that infectious.
"Hahaha, of course! Best of luck to you, my aquatic friend! Do your best out there!"
Before he left, Owen looked over to address the spectral presence on Morgan's shoulder.
"That goes for both of you!"
"Hyah! Hugh! HA!"
In the other waiting room, a restless figure prepared himself for the upcoming fight in his own way. The dynamic metal fighter known as Prime had been eagerly awaiting this moment ever since switching from standby mode this morning, and now he was throwing in some last-minute training by striking the air around him. But as he paused to readjust his focus, said training was interrupted by a new presence in the room. Prime turned around to face the imposing form leaning against the doorframe. And though he lacked a mouth to emote with, his energetic voice displayed the cordiality he felt towards his creator well enough.
"Here to wish me luck, Abby?"
"Mostly to make sure you don't get too cocky before you even start fighting, really."
Abigail smirked. The huge Half-Orc walked over to her greatest invention and put up her fist towards him.
"And to wish you luck, yes. Get out there and kick his ass!"
Prime answered Abby's fist bump without hesitation, and both of them gave a gaze of respect towards the other. Other than her son back home, Prime was the most cherished individual in her life. More or less the younger brother she never had. This respect was very much mutual; Prime did owe his entire existence to Abigail's genius after all. To him, she was the most important person he knew. And although he didn't want to consider her his parental figure (particularly since she had actively discouraged it), she was very much like an older sister to him. The artificial fighter slammed his fists together, before turning around to take the stage.
"Thanks, I will! I'll make sure to give him a few hits for you too!"
With those words, Prime practically dashed towards the arena. The burly inventor put a hand on her hip as she chuckled to herself, observing her creation going off to do what he did best. She had forged his armour, wired his cranial unit, even given him that sharp V-shaped head crest. But that spirit, that undying love for all things dramatic, she had not put there. Abigail turned around to head back to the watching area. She did not want to miss this fight for anything.
The tournament was about to reach its fourth round, and the intensity would only continue to heat up.
