Reincarnation: Origins

Chapter 8: Tournament Pt. 2

It came time for the next part of the tournament to begin, the deciding factor of the bunch that gets the join the guild. A buzz had settled heavily in the air of spectators and competitors alike. The announcer took to the stand once more, this time brandishing a scroll with a flourish.

"LUNE vs. NEEDA"

Lune coolly turned towards the exit. If Lucien had to guess, he looked to be around his own age. He had odd blue hair that peeked out from beneath his ornate helm. Despite his amateurish appearance, he gripped a giant lance on his right hand.

"Don't feel bad if you lose to me." Needa smirked, tilting her witch's hat lower on her brow. Her tight dirty blonde hair swooped to the side from beneath her hat. She dressed like a true witch; tight, skin revealing garments and robes, complete with a pair of ornate thigh-high boots. All in blue. She lazily gripped a glowing wooden staff. "I'm the daughter of the witch of the mystic wilds after all."

Murmurs rippled around the circle of remaining participants, sin Rilin and Tatheo. Apparently the Witch of the Mystic Wilds were a big deal in Aiona. They were a entirely autonomous and self-sufficient coven of witches--and witches only. Legends had it that they captured human men for the sole task of adding on to their lineage.

Lune returned her taunts with a cold, disdainful gaze before turning back and exiting. Even the guards could not confidently match the his glare, preferring to look away like he was a man who wielded unimaginable power.

Lucien's train of thought was interrupted by an obnoxious crunching. He turned to the side to tell the source off only to meet Dahol...the glutton that had lost to Rilin. Lucien glared at him, then at his bag of chips, then back up at him again. Crumbs littered his evolving chin, but Dahol did not seem to notice. His eyes were too busy glued to the center of the arena.

Lucien rolled his eyes and turned back to watch. A swirling light encased Needa, clinging and sinking to her skin and clothes. She turned to Lune and pointed her staff at him before casting a spell.

"Electrtic burst."

Blue, erratic, static light shot out from her staff, heading towards Lune, who looked defenseless despite his lance and somewhat heavy armor. He easily swatted the bolt with a lazy arc of his lance right back at Needa, who lunged to the side.

"Shit, reflecting."

Needa fired bolt after bolt with seemingly no end in sight. By the end of her tirade, scorch marks littered the area but Lune remained unscathed.

"How you still have the mana for all that is amazing." Lune sounded genuinely impressed as he commended her. "My turn."

He lunged at her, moving faster than the human eye could follow. He swung his lance downwards only to have his strike deflected by the wooden staff. The eating besides Lucien paused before continue with a new invigorated pace, spraying crumbs left and right. Dahol had moved on to a new bag.

"How long can you keep deflecting my attacks, I wonder." Lune pressed harder. "How fast must I move before you can no longer see me, even with the eyes of your kind."

Needa could do nothing but glare, unable to think up a retort snarky enough to force back or taunt Lune. Lune darted back, giving Needa space.

"you know what. I'll stand here and let you come at me with all you've got." Lune tossed his lance off to one side.

Like a fish that had taken the bait, Needa sprinted at him. How she was able to balance herself on those heels while running on sand slightly scared Lucien. Women are terrifying, Lucien thought, recalling one of the rarer times that his mother had been pissed at his father.