Quilla’s dull blade whooshed through the air, its wielder pacing back and forth in anticipation.
“Yeah, that doesn’t look for show,” Ziana noted.
Dorrin leaned close, whispering in her ear. “As we discussed. Her hands are swift, but her footwork is sloppy.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Then get in there and show me.”
Ziana did just that, stepping into the hexagon, her twin rods held loosely in her hands. The starting horn sounded immediately the moment both feet were inside the boundary. Quilla attacked at once, clearly tipped off to the technically legal, but still very shady, trick.
Ziana was forced to move fast, diving out of the way into an unplanned roll. Fortunately, she and Dorrin had been practicing that sort of thing, but more as a recovery motion in case of a fall in the middle of a run or obstacle challenge. Regardless, the muscle memory served her well, her shoulder absorbing the force as she rolled out of her dive.
She swung her trailing arm hard as she transitioned up to her feet. It was a blind swing, but it was worth a shot. The shuddering impact resonating through her hand made it quite clear she’d made contact, and it had not been a glancing blow.
She spun around and backed up, rods held up and ready, windmilling around her body to better confuse her adversary.Quilla, however, hesitated, favoring one leg. It seemed she’d hit her close to the knee, and as a result the woman couldn’t properly pivot on that leg. At least for the moment. Ziana wasted no time taking full advantage.
She charged, swinging high with both hands. Quilla moved to block, but her sword met empty air. Ziana’s feet crashed into her thigh, her attack having shifted from rods to feet without warning. Both feet, to be precise. She’d launched herself at the woman feet-first, and the impact was resounding.
Quilla cried out and fell, clutching her leg as she rolled on the ground. Ziana was already up and ready for her, standing aside and waiting, the one the elites had considered no more than prey very clearly the predator in this case.
“Get up!” Lonks shouted. “Get up!”
Quilla’s leg wasn’t broken, but her thigh was essentially useless from the impact. But the contest was far from over, and she had no choice but to continue. Testing her balance cautiously, she settled into a combat pose. There was just one problem. All of that training had neglected to teach her one thing.
What to do if your pivot leg was rendered useless.
And Quilla wasnotambidextrous.
Ziana carved her up, running circles around her, landing blows at will as the poor woman simply couldn’t move to defend herself. But the human showed surprising restraint. While the crowd was cheering for more violent blows, Ziana was racking up a dizzying amount of points, all while driving her adversary lower and lower on the scoreboard. By the time the ending horn sounded Quilla was barely able to stand, let alone swing her sword. Her arms were both bruised and battered, and her leg was still unstable from the assault. She would be fighting at a disadvantage the rest of the day. Ziana had just given all of Quilla’s remaining opponents a massive gift.
Ziana made quick work of most of her non-elite opponents, most of them opting for survival tactics against her rather than an all-out fight. Her final opponent, however, was well rested and itching for a fight. And after the whole day of easy bouts, Galla was light on her feet and full of energy by the time the final round came. Dorrin pulled her close before she entered the hexagon.
“I know there is bad blood, but she is far too fresh. Just make it through this round. You’ve done incredibly today, and we are far ahead. You only need to survive.”
Much as Ziana wanted to give it her all, she knew he was right. And while she wasn’t spent, she was definitely at a disadvantage as far as energy went.
“Got it.”
“Get through this, Ziana. You can do it.”
She was confident, but she also knew Galla had been watching her all day and while her color guard moves had taken everyone by surprise earlier, she’d pretty much shown all she had over the many rounds of fighting.
Galla would be prepared. And she was wielding a staff. Shorter than what Trammia had used, but long enough to provide a reach advantage. And Galla was actually good with it.
The first impact wasn’t a swing but a jab, the staff shooting out and catching Ziana in the ribs, nearly knocking the wind out of her. Only her pivot at the last second diverted the blow enough to avoid that. Galla didn’t wait for her to recover, using the same technique of overwhelming speed to drive Ziana back, landing more blows on her despite the human’s best efforts.
“Stop!” the overseer commanded. “Deduction, one point!”
Ziana looked down. Her foot had just barely touched the boundary line.
“I didn’t step out.”
“You did,” the man said in a tone that made it quite clear that was the last word on the matter.
Ziana’s anger flared, and that burst actually gave her a momentary advantage, the intensity of her retaliation forcing Galla to defend rather than attack. One of Ziana’s rods smacked her across the cheek, but it was a glancing blow from a woman with increasingly tired arms. Nevertheless, Galla’s rage spiked bright and hot.
The two women battered one another, landing blow after blow, Ziana’s ranking dropping but Galla’s falling as well.
