Author's note: Whoops! If you're following, I accidentally posted the wrong chapter this month (July 2023). I gave you an advanced sneak peek of the semi-finals, by accident! I've deleted that now; it will reappear in September. Sorry! Here's the correct chapter for this month.
Cid watched the plump man in green robes, the tournament announcer, stride to the centre of the arena, hold up his hands, and shout to the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Quarter Final Three! Vish of Aibar versus Li of Farr!"
The crowd cheered its deafening approval as the announcer walked back to the edge of the arena to referee the match.
I don't see why they really have to announce what country each fighter is from, Cid thought, not for the first time that day. It just encourages prejudice. The Farrians all already know who their own people are and who to cheer for…
Just then a man appeared from out of the dugout tunnel, literally backflipping his way up the short path that led to the arena, where he executed a particularly massive spring from his hands, twisted around several times in the air in a way that Cid couldn't follow, and landed with both his hands held out in a fighting stance, yelling "HYAAAAAAA!" at the top of his lungs.
The noise from the crowd grew even more deafening.
This must be Li of Farr, thought Cid. A medium-height, tanned Farrian in black trousers but with bare feet and chest, muscles honed to hard lines, and a bowl of short-cropped black hair. The audience clearly know him already. They had been angry at the defeat of the Farrian woman by Sagar in the previous match, but also somewhat confused that she had been a woman, and this was more familiar territory: a male Farrian martial-arts champion who knew how to perform for them.
Little do they know, though, Cid thought, that young man Vish will be more than a match for him.
Vish…
Where was Vish, anyway?
Li of Farr had finished his entry routine now and was standing over on one side of the arena awaiting his opponent.
Moments passed.
The crowd waited quietly, with baited breath.
After a while, Li of Farr looked from the dugout to the announcer, cocked his head, and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
The announcer shrugged, then shouted in the direction of the dugout, "I repeat, Vish of Aibar!"
A pause.
Cid could have sworn he heard the sound of crickets chirping somewhere.
"Ha!" laughed Li of Farr all of a sudden, spinning around to address the section of the crowd nearest to him. "Stupid foreigner! He must be too afraid to even come out to fight me! Hahaha!"
The crowd broke out into laughter too, mimicking the fighter. A forced, chortling, superior sort of laughter.
Uh-oh, thought Cid.
Young lady Elrann turned to him where she stood alongside. "Er, pops, where's bountyhunterman got to?"
"Um…" said Cid, "I thought he was in the dugout with the other tournament finalists…"
"But did ya actually see him go down there with farmboy and pirateman?"
"Um…" Cid searched his memory, from which Vish was conspicuously absent. "Actually, I don't remember seeing him, not as such, no…" His heart sank.
He looked past Elrann to the two newcomers, the hooded bard Quel and green-haired girl Riss. "Did either of you see our Shadowfinger companion come to the arena this morning?"
Riss shook her head, tight-lipped and wide-eyed as usual.
Quel said from within his hood, "Can't say I did, Master Cid. Apologies."
"Ah," said Cid. "Poodoo."
"Where's princess-girl gone?" said Elrann. "Can we ask her?"
"She went with young man Ryn to talk to the Governor about something. I don't know how we could all have missed Vish this morning... He must still be sleeping off his poppy hit from last night." Or finding himself some more, Cid added in his head.
Meanwhile Li of Farr had begun to prance around the arena floor performing a sequence of flashy fighting moves for the entertainment of the crowd while making more of those ridiculous high-pitched noises.
He executed a series of three rapid kicks at nothing with the same foot in quick succession, leapt, turned over horizontally three times in the air, and came down into a series of punches, ending with an almighty quivering backhand strike as he yelled "HWAAAAHH!"
The audience lapped it up, cheering and clapping.
"It appears that young man Vish may have to end up forfeiting this round…" Cid said quietly. Damn. He was our best chance.
"But isn't bountyhunterman, like, our best chance of winning this tournament thing and getting the Earth Emerald?" said Elrann, echoing his thoughts.
"Yes. If he doesn't show up, we shall just have to hope that young men Ryn and Sagar continue to hold their own in the fighting…"
Cid picked at his beard. Sagar and Ryn had gotten lucky so far, but he wasn't sure whether they would continue to do so as the Finals progressed. Yes, they had elemental projection, but they weren't the methodical, calculating, highly trained fighter that Vish was. When he wasn't laid out from a damn poppy hit. If only he hadn't relapsed. If only he had gotten further in his recovery…
"Vish of Aibar," the tournament announcer was calling one more time in the direction of the dugout, "if you do not present yourself for combat now then you will be forced to forfeit this match and your place in this tournament! I will give you to the count of ten: One!"
A figure dressed all in black stumbled out of the entry tunnel.
"Alright, alright, I am here," grumbled Vish in his deep voice. He staggered slowly up to the arena, one hand clutching the top of his head. "No need for me to forfeit. I am just a bit late; that is all."
Cid's eyebrows rose.
"Phew, there he is," said Elrann.
But Cid didn't know whether to be relieved or not.
The crowd had quietened again. Apparently they didn't know what to make of this black-clad latecomer.
Vish took his place on the opposite side of the arena from Li and stood facing him, swaying slightly on his feet, his hand still holding his head.
"Alright then…" said the announcer from the side of the arena, unable to keep the uncertainty from his voice. "Now that you are both here…BEGIN!"
"What's the matter, foreigner?" Li called out at once, voice rising and falling in mockery. "Were you too afraid to meet me in combat? Lost your nerve, did you?"
The crowd chuckled.
"Well, I don't blame you!" called Li, spurred on by their approval. "I would be scared to fight me too!"
The crowd laughed.
Li punched the air in his immediate vicinity a few more times, then threw in a few more kicks and a knee-thrust, displaying his skill now not just for the crowd but for Vish. He ended with a straight air-punch which left his arm fully extended and his fist pointed in Vish's direction. He rotated his fist so that his thumb faced upwards, opened his hand, and made a couple of 'come here' motions at Vish, beckoning him to attack.
"Come at me!" Li of Farr challenged.
"Oh, just get on with it, would you?" said Vish, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I had a rough one last night. I have a splitting headache and I just want to get this over with."
Li's cocky smile transfigured into a furious scowl. "How dare you insult me?" he said, dropping out of his pose. "Don't you know who I am? I am the great Li of Farr! I have won twelve Farrian Fighting Tournament titles! I am a Grand Master of the ancient fighting arts! My students are feared and respected throughout the whole of Mid!"
"I really could not care any less," hissed Vish through gritted teeth. "I would rather that you just hurry up and get on with this fight, so we can finish it."
Li's eyes bulged.
The crowd had stopped laughing.
"Insolent foreigner!" Li screeched. "Fine! Have it your way! I will end this contest in one blow!"
He pelted across the arena towards Vish with tremendous speed, screaming his head off as he went, "YAAAAAAAAAH!"
He arrived at Vish with a humongous backhanded punch–the same one which he had shown off earlier.
Vish caught Li's fist with one hand, stopping it in place in front of his head, at the same time punching him in the chest with his other hand, so hard it made an audible bang like metal on metal even though it was just a fist on a chest.
Flecks of spittle and blood came out of Li's surprised mouth.
The Shadowfinger let go of Li's fist, and the martial artist fell back onto the ground immediately, eyes unfocused with shock. He let out a quiet little whimpering sound, then lost consciousness and lay still, his eyes closing.
Vish walked past him, rubbing the hand that he had punched Li with, back towards the dugout.
For a moment everyone just looked on in silence, almost as stunned as Li had been, Cid included, only the sound of Vish's footsteps carrying across the arena.
Then the announcer called out "One!", remembering the tournament rules.
"Don't waste your breath," Vish called back over his shoulder as he reached the edge of the arena and walked off it, into the dugout, himself completely disregarding the rules. "He won't be getting up for a while. You'll need to carry him off."
The crowd was quiet.