Chronicles of the Selphia Plains [Rune Factory 4]

To the Victor Part II

Chanda's father had, after some deliberation, finally agreed to her terms, thinking to himself that it probably wouldn't hurt anything and might even generate some interest in the little harpy. And so it was decided that in two weeks, the competition would be held.

To Chanda's surprise—and her disgust—there were a decent number of applicants. It was finally decided that the competition would be arranged tournament-style, with the winner of the tournament fighting Chanda first, and so on down until someone finally beat her or until there were no more challengers to beat.

Most of the combatants were callow youths, and these were quickly weeded out. Soon, it was down to four competitors: an older man, formerly a fighting instructor, who wanted a servant girl to warm his bed in his waning years; a middle-aged man, a foreigner that had somehow heard of the tournament, and who stated that his intent was to show her in carnivals for a time, then sell her into service at a brothel, perhaps even in the capitol; Chanda's father, who turned out to be a better fighter than Chanda had expected; and a slender youth who spoke not a word, nor removed his helm even between battles.

In the semi-final round of the tournament, the youth faced Chanda's father, while the carnival operator fought against the older fighter. Unsurprisingly, the fighter won against the foreigner, but surprisingly, Chanda's father lost the competition. The onlookers were amazed by the youth's vigor and acrobatics, and murmured that while he lacked refinement, he showed remarkable promise.

In the final round, the old instructor faced off against the youth. The crowd was keen to watch this battle—would experience and sharply-honed skills win, or would youthful energy and raw, unrefined talent carry the day?

The two opponents faced each other, the older man wielding a large, heavy wooden sword, and the younger selecting a pair of short wooden swords. Only training weapons were used, as the fight was simply until a combatant was incapacitated, not to the death. The older man immediately charged at the younger, feeling that, by now, the slim youth must be wearing down despite the healing spells provided between fights. He swung his sword, and to his surprise, his opponent leaped up and over his blade, flipping neatly over and landing on his feet behind him with cat-like reflexes. The fighter whirled and raised his sword as the youth spun around and swiped at him with his short swords. He succeeded in blocking the onslaught, but before he could renew his assault, the youth had dropped down and swiped a kick at his legs, knocking him off his feet.

The crowd  immediately began to chant, counting towards the time limit before the youth could be declared the victor, but the older man struggled to his feet again, despite having the wind knocked out of him. The pair circled each other, the older man trying to catch his breath while the youth stayed his hand and allowed him to do so—and they both knew it full well.

From then on, the youth seemed to merely toy with his elder, dancing and darting around him like a leaf in the wind, bending to duck below or leaping to jump above the broad blade while occasionally raining blows on the older man's person. After a while, the fighter began to tire, and when at last he couldn't raise his sword immediately after a failed attempt to strike the youth, his opponent seized the opportunity and leaped at him, landing a powerful kick squarely in the center of his chest, and he was unable to block it in time. He flew back into the crowd, landing on his back, gasping and staring wide-eyed as he struggled to breathe. The crowd again began to chant the countdown, and as soon as they reached the end, they cheered loudly for the winner as he stepped forward and helped to defeated old man to his feet. "Who are you?" the fighter asked, curiously, as he shook the youth's hand. "I thought I knew the fighting style of every man and boy in the tribe, yet I'd swear I've never sparred with you before." His opponent merely smiled and shook his head before quickly returning to the center of the ring, where the youngest of the seers stepped forward once again to heal him.