213 – Youth Bracket

Saffra was realizing she might have overestimated her opponents in the under-14 bracket.

“Winner, Saffra of Vanguard!”

She lowered her staff, panting from exertion. The fight hadn’t been so easy she hadn’t worked up a sweat—but still, it hadn’t been that challenging, all things considered.

Which didn’t make sense. Weren’t these supposed to be the best fighters in the world?

At the announcer’s verdict, the coliseum roared its approval. Even dampened by the barrier, the noise that thundered out of the stands was cacophonous. Her gaze drifted away from her ice-entombed opponent and wandered up and around the huge bowl-like arena. The splay of colorful dots, each representing a person, was absolutely impossible to make sense of. The amorphous mass almost looked like liquid, wiggling and flowing as tens of thousands of people jumped up and down in excitement. Having been focused on the fight, she’d forgotten just how massive the audience was.

I can’t believe they built this thing in less than a month, Saffra thought.

It was only a third full, but that was probably close to the Royal Coliseum’s maximum capacity. The number of spectators boggled her mind.

And they’re all watching me.

Her eyes turned to the colossal illusion on the north side of the arena. The magical construct had magnified her image to show her from an uncomfortably close angle, her face at least a hundred feet tall so that the entire stadium could see her in perfect detail.

Beyond disliking the idea of being in the spotlight in general, she couldn’t help but think: I look scared. Her ears had flattened against her head. She really hated how those things gave her thoughts away—controlling her face was so much simpler. Humans didn’t know how easy they had it.

Tentatively, she waved in no particular direction. The crowd went newly ballistic.

So weird…

She turned back to her opponent, saw him still struggling in a cocoon of ice that had encased him from his elbows downward, and twitched in realization.

“Ah, right, sorry.”

She dispelled the magic, and the dark-haired boy—he looked around twelve—stumbled as he regained his footing.

He was bleeding from a deep cut on his shoulder. It had been the injury that had won her the fight early on, putting his weapon arm out of commission. She had Lady Vivi’s void spell to thank; while not the easiest ability to aim, it cut through defenses like butter. At this rank, all it took to win was a single well-placed attack.

The leather armor on his right leg had also been blackened by a grazing [Scorchlance], along with a number of other signs of damage; she was still using plenty of spells from her original arsenal. The offensive void ability was incredible, but still just one tool in the toolbox.

The boy looked thoroughly battered. He was struggling to stay upright. Normally, fights went to unconsciousness or a killing blow—which the Sorceress’s enchantments would rebuff, of course—but when opponents had visibly lost in another manner, the referee would call it. Saffra had been preparing a [Scorchlance] aimed at the boy’s face, and frozen like he’d been, he couldn’t have dodged it.

So the referee had spared a twelve-year-old from being roasted alive.

Maybe the one-sided performance was why he gave her a sour look when she offered a tentative “Good fight.” Still, he returned the courtesy; he wasn’t that much of a bad sport. He did immediately begin limping toward the exit, though.

She considered offering him a shoulder to lean on, but that would’ve been rubbing salt in the wound. At least, that was how she would’ve taken it. He seemed touchy.

No. He’s probably not ‘touchy’ so much as just upset. He lost out on the opportunity of a lifetime.

Saffra was in the very bizarre position that she was fighting for her reputation only. The tournament’s prizes didn’t matter. The woman and the guild responsible for those rewards were her master and the organization she belonged to.

That wasn’t the case for most others. Making it into the top sixteen, eight, or higher could set a person up for life. Even Saffra didn’t know what Vanguard would be handing out, but knowing Lady Vivi, they weren’t going to cut corners.

If it’s half as good as the armor I’m wearing, it’d still be a once-in-a-lifetime reward. Rarer.

Reaching the end of the walkway, she dipped into the shade of the exit tunnel—and out of the eyes of tens of thousands of people. She breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a healing station immediately present with healers ready to patch up the fighters of each match. Her injuries were light enough she considered walking past it. She would have if not for how her battered opponent stumbled over and collapsed into a chair. Passing by without a care when he was so obviously roughed up felt like it would be… rude, somehow.

Saffra took her own seat. As a tall priestess in white robes manifested glowing light around her and her bruises began fading, the same thought from earlier bubbled up:

These fights should be way harder, shouldn’t they?

She’d been feeling that way since working through the under-14 qualifiers, but she had chalked the experience up to being, well, the under-14 qualifiers. There were all kinds of reasons the bracket would be easier—not only because of the obvious restrictions and the lack of experience children would have compared to lifelong adventurers, but also because the bracket simply wasn’t as competitive. She’d swept her way through those matches, having no difficulty at all.

The open-division qualifiers had been a different beast. But even then, she’d made it to mithril before falling out. She had even won against some of them. Conquering a two-hundred-level gap was pretty crazy.

She’d figured there would be more people around her age who had outleveled her in a similar way. Mithril-rank thirteen-year-olds would be freaks of nature, but a tournament open to the world would attract hundreds of those. Right? While Lady Vivi might have taken a personal interest in training and leveling her, there were people who’d been getting that treatment their whole lives.

But… not by the Sorceress herself, she supposed.

Which maybe mattered more than Saffra had predicted.

Once Saffra had left the healing station and begun heading for the stands, a familiar voice behind her said, “Congratulations.”

She jumped, though not as dramatically as some of the times Lady Vivi had ambushed her. Her mentor was really bad at announcing herself. It felt like she was always popping out of thin air while Saffra was deep in thought.

“Sorry,” Lady Vivi said, noticing the reaction.

“It’s fine.” She thankfully managed not to snap out the response, despite her heart suddenly racing in her chest. “And, uh, thank you. It wasn’t that tough of a match.”

“I noticed. You controlled the fight well.”

Saffra made a noise that voiced more disagreement than she’d intended. Lady Vivi didn’t comment, though.

“It’s weird being watched by so many people, isn’t it?” Lady Vivi followed up with.

“I was thinking that, yeah. Crazy how it’s only going to get worse.”

The youth bracket wasn’t what people cared most about. The open division—which would be happening last among the brackets, with the youth and rank divisions building up excitement—would be what really packed the stands. Saffra had heard that even with this newly constructed, gargantuan stadium, Meridian was planning on setting up overflow seating using the other arenas. There would be projected illusion spells to display the fights from all across the city.

Most of Meridian would be watching the final matches. An unfathomable number of people.

“Don’t remind me,” Lady Vivi grumbled. “Let’s go up to our booth?”

“Sure.”

A [Blink] spell tossed them a few hundred feet upward and off to the side. Saffra popped into existence inside Vanguard’s VIP booth—since of course the stadium had been built with one of those. The Royal Family had gotten another, theirs with front-and-center placement. Personally, Saffra thought Vanguard’s should’ve been the more prominent one, but at the same time, that probably wouldn’t be the proper political way to handle things.

The booth was shaded, built into the natural bowl shape of the coliseum, and walled for privacy. Much of Vanguard was present and spread throughout the lounge-like room. Saffra hoped they hadn’t shown up to ‘support her.’ She found that idea mortifying.

After an awkward round of congratulations that Saffra mumbled ‘thank-yous’ for, she and Lady Vivi took seats at the front.

“I can tell you’re thinking about something,” the woman said.

Had it been that obvious? Saffra hesitated for several seconds, working up the nerve to ask what she wanted to. It could be seen as rude, but then again, Lady Vivi was weirdly tolerant. Saffra couldn’t remember a time she’d visibly annoyed the woman.

“You didn’t… like… rig the tournament, did you?”

Lady Vivi clearly hadn’t been expecting the question. She blinked once, a dramatic reaction for her, then looked at Saffra with confusion. “Rig it?”

“By giving me easier matches.”

“Why would you think we did that?”

“Because it… it was way too easy!”

Lady Vivi seemed like the kind of person to do ridiculous things to help others. Not that long ago, over a meal, Saffra had dumped a bunch of anxieties about failing to climb the youth bracket to a respectable rank. It didn’t seem inconceivable that Lady Vivi—or even Rafael or someone else—would try to nudge the odds to ‘help her out.’

Not that Saffra believed that was what was happening. She was being paranoid. Lady Vivi might want to lend a hand, but it would be out of character to do so at the expense of other people. Especially when the youth bracket was single elimination. Once someone fell out, they were out for good.

Just, really. Saffra had expected more of a challenge from her first match. From the earlier qualification matches, even.

Lady Vivi had taken on an amused expression. “No, Saffra, I didn’t rig the tournament.”

“Did anyone else, though?”

Lady Vivi gave the question actual thought. She rarely dismissed things out of hand. “You mean Rafael? No, not a chance. First of all, he wouldn’t do that without asking me, and second, this tournament is… a little high profile.” Yes, the woman’s amusement was definitely growing. Saffra felt her cheeks starting to color. “Any ‘rigging’ would be scrutinized to the heavens and back. So knowing him, he’d at least be subtle about it—he’d make sure they gave you a good fight. Yours wasn’t close.”

“Yeah. That… that makes sense, actually.”

Again, she’d already known she was being paranoid.

Lady Vivi thankfully didn’t interrogate or tease her further. Saffra stewed in silence for a bit. Maybe she understood logically just how many advantages she had, and how those advantages would result in her being stronger than almost everyone else her age—that wasn’t the problem.

Secretly, it was emotional turmoil messing with her head. She couldn’t be one of the most powerful people of her age in the entire world. That defied logic. It was beyond her capability to accept. Potent and unique spells, ridiculously powerful armor, age restrictions, and personal training by the Sorceress or not, she shouldn’t be winning this easily. It might’ve only been the first round, and things would get harder for sure, but she’d won with a few bruises. She almost hadn’t bothered going to the healer!

“You’re getting better with [Nullification Pulse],” Lady Vivi said.

Saffra appreciated the change in topic, but she still responded with a grumble. “I didn’t even land it. What do you mean ‘better’?”

“You were faster than with your previous tries. And in the middle of a fight. That’s progress. You’ll be practiced enough to use it in the later rounds, I’m certain of it.”

Maybe. Saffra hoped so. [Nullification Pulse] was the second void spell Lady Vivi had designed for her, and it was monstrously useful—but also a lot harder to master.

It was crazy for what it was, even compared to everything else Lady Vivi had passed on. Rather than a simple offensive ability like the void-slash, the tier-4 spell was a ranged, area-of-effect spell that could fry almost any defenses it made contact with—skill-based, mana shields, or otherwise. Even armor softened into paper when struck by it.

There were two downsides that prevented it from being a free-win ability. First, she had to pick a point in space, and properly targeting spells in three dimensions was tricky. She had practice with elemental magic that operated similarly, but while the lack of travel time or projectile-based movement helped, the calculations were difficult to make in the heat of battle. And then additionally, even after finishing the invocation, it took nearly a second for the effect to materialize.

Lady Vivi could no doubt remove the limitation, but it would increase the complexity by a lot. That she’d crammed such a strong technique into tier-4 architecture was already absurd.

Lady Vivi had suggested [Nullification Pulse] as the next spell to learn since a powerful disabling ability enabled the rest of Saffra’s grimoire—break their defenses, then follow up with another spell like [Scorchlance]. She didn’t have time to learn a million void abilities, so it was clearly the highest-efficiency option to rush toward. Saffra had agreed with the appraisal. Not that she would ever disagree with the Sorceress when it came to opinions on magic.

She just had to figure out how to wield the frustrating spell, both functionally and tactically.

Below, two new participants were marching out into the stadium to a fresh wave of thunderous cheering from the audience. Their booth thankfully muted the outrageous amount of noise.

Lady Vivi’s next words distracted her from hearing whatever names the announcer called out. “Oh, and I actually have some big news for you.”

Saffra glanced at her mentor out of the corner of her eye. A hint of smugness had crept into Lady Vivi’s voice, which was especially suspicious.

“Big news…?” she prompted.

“As you might’ve heard, void research hasn’t just been my priority, but most of Vanguard’s. We had a breakthrough this morning. I wasn’t going to tell you until it was finished, but…” Lady Vivi smirked, which really wasn’t something she did often. “If you’re already finding your matchups easier than you expected, imagine once Malach and I finish your next set of gear. This is what we made just a few hours ago.”

Lady Vivi held out her hands, and a set of mage’s robes appeared in her grip.