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"Ow…Ow, ow ow…"
Shield got her shit rocked. Earclackers often died and retained a lot of their major injuries post-battle but it wasn't the same result every time. Sometimes the arena would switch things up and keep the losers relatively fine and the winners would end up keeping the injuries, which created a lot of lag between fights.
There were certain reasons behind this. One was that it helped ruin the consistency of the fight; if everyone knew what would happen after they won or lost, it would be a bit contradictory to the thrill of the fighting until their demises. A second was that the anarchy of fighting was consistent to the reality of fights in a true universe:
Not every fight is a good one.
"Ugh…It feels like Axe sliced my arm off!! This is so not fair, why does she get to come out completely fine and I gotta suffer the consequences of my actions?!"
Shield is a great example of getting her ass sent the highway.
"Well, fam, if you wanted to win, ya' should've won!"
Shield had a dirty pout on her face. Axe looked fine and dandy. To be fair, it was an incredibly defensive fight; had Shield read Axe proper, she would've likely won through attrition. Yet Axe just simply held up the better ground, the better position. Those constant feints and whiffs left Shield at a complete loss.
"Hey!"
Axe put a hand on her shoulder.
"Ow!! Not there!"
"Nice fight, 'fam!! You was slayin'!! Ate so hard, ya' almost made me couldn't walk over here!"
"Don't break my pathetic spirit too…"
By this point, they'd become good friends. Axe and Shield were equally…Creatively worded.
"Ah…That fight was really fun…I hope we get another chance to fight. Maybe you'll really break this lowly body of mine again…"
"Chat, t'fuck is this girl sayin'?"
"Hey, how about we get food?!"
"Sure!"
Their attention spans were unparalleled when put together. When combined, they could beat out even the most elite of fruit flies. This brought them into the lunchroom, and their eyes caught onto two individuals in particular.
"Oh!!! Those are the tournament fighters!!"
"Duh' what?"
"Oh, you weren't there!! Lance was…Amazing!!! Seeing her completely take over her side of the brackets…Ohh…Anyway, you're new, so you missed out, but Lance is a semi-finalist!!!"
"Oh…Damn, chat. That sounds crazy! They must be pretty old…"
"You should've been there…I think you would've given Unarmed a real run for her money."
"Geez…I knew Lance was a boomer, but not that much of a boomer. That kinda' slays, actually."
"Um…Misses? Are you going to order?"
Turned out they'd been waiting in line at the lunch counter and had completely missed the part of the staff prodding the two for a good minute.
Shield turned right back around with the face of someone who absolutely did not know she was in line. "Oh! Sorry, sorry, I'll get…Uh…"
She takes her eyepatch off; ironically, she sees better in that eye, but she hasn't realized it yet because it's constantly in darkness. "…Ice cream and she'll get…"
"I wanna try mapo tofu, chat keeps asking me. Spice level seven!!"
In the corner of the lunch room.
"Spear."
"Oh. It's Lance."
Lunch was usually great downtime. Spectators would speculate, the Earclackers would trash talk, but by the end, it was all in good fun. There were several who took things incredibly seriously, but there needed to be a yin and yang to fighting as a whole; if everyone was taking it too casually, there'd be no competition. Too serious, and everyone was up at each other's throats all of the time.
"I watched your fight against Grimoire. Very impressive."
"As much as I'd like to agree, I watched you impale her at point-blank range."
"Eh…"
Lance and Spear might be cut from the same cloth, but they were very different in ideology, especially with Lance's more armored offensive and Spear's hyper-range contrast. Even their clothes were different, with Spear voluntarily discarding any semblance of armor for a flowy outfit…This made her quite a danger to those who couldn't get past the spear, but ultimately lost when fighting up close.
Them being friends turned out to be a stroke of luck. At first, they paid their respects when Spear rightfully took the first victory…But once the tournament came around…
Lance's lance, Spear's spear. Deflection, reburst, recoil, repeat.
"Tck!! I can't…"
Lance retained a focus Spear had hardly seen before. Whether it was due to the tournament aspect or some unknown potential Spear hadn't observed before…She couldn't tell. Lance wasn't stopping her assault, even as Spear continued to follow the path of Wukong.
"Too…Fast…!!"
Lance whipped around; nicked her shoulder. Across the wall, she'd bounce and kick her shin in. Followed with a backwards flip, and an overhead swing right into her face, sending her flying across into the other wall.
"Gah!! What fearsome power…! She's nothing like before!"
By this point, she had kept herself implanted against the wall, wheezing her lungs out; she was bleeding in multiple spots, she'd gotten a healthy nick against the majority of Spear's vitals, and Spear was losing vision in both eyes.
But she kept on.
I won't…I won't lose…Not like this…! Not when I haven't even gotten her bleeding!!
She hoisted her spear and lunged, her eyes brimming with a blue dazzling light.
They clashed, again and again and again; their movements dazzling the arena like a light show of blood and sparks.
Lance gouged into Spear's chest, sending her burrowing deep into the walls of a decrepit castle.
"Guh! Gugh…!!" Spear let out a ghastly cough, her dying breaths filled with blood that flooded her throat and lungs. She had to hit her spear against the wall to keep herself stable.
I'm bleeding out…I can't…Go on…!
But she kept on.
At her last breath, she blitzed back and forth, dazzling Lance from every blind spot. Her spear moved like lightning; Bang! Bang! Bang! Left, right, forward, right, overhead, rear, left, lower right, upper right, overhead rear-
From the head came a lightning strike.
Clashed, their polearms did.
Spear was doing damage. She was wearing Lance down; even at her dying breath, even as Spear could no longer move her legs, forcing her spear as the single crutch of her rotting mobility, she could see the blood splatters on Lance. Blood that was not Spear's.
"I…Can still…"
And that was when her body became unresponsive. A lance drove directly into her heart, piercing her and sending her right into the rock walls of a fallen castle.
"Cough…Hgh…"
Lance held tight.
"It was a good fight. Thank you."
After that, they started talking about pork buns and they had hit it off. Lunch happened to be their go-to meeting place.
Lance chugged down her waterskin. "I consider that a difference of play style."
"Play style."
Spear took a long sip of her bamboo cup. Lance heard she got it from this place called a 100-yen store. She wasn't sure if 100 yen was the same as a silver coin, but if it is, Spear must've been quite wealthy…
Also, tea was disgusting. Lance hated it. Spear had a kettle and cups. Lance preferred creamer and coffee on the side.
"Yes. Why'd you say it like that? You say that like I'm-"
"Lance, I see you every fight observing your opponent, watching their movements, testing the limits of your thrusts and securing at the pivotal moment. Your fight against Staff? That was impressive."
"Er…"
"Then the fight against Bow. A pyrrhic defeat. The audience may have been disappointed, but I was enamored. If it wasn't for Bow's assault, you would have won for certain."
Lance was finding difficulty in explaining that she got sweat in her eyes that fight and couldn't see half the time. "Wait, now-"
"Flask. Flask was a fast mover, that one. She must have been blinding you, that dirty trickster. I'd always held a grudge against her after what she did to Katana. Katana wielded three katanas. Three! She should've won by sheer appearance alone! Have you seen how threatening someone with three katanas is! I've watched the shows!"
What shows?
Spear continued, swinging her tea left and right like a drunkard would. "There's no telling what these fighters will do to rig the arenas in their favor…"
Lance didn't want to admit she was spacing out, both now and during that fight against Flask. Spear had strange concepts of strategy. Lance didn't understand what three katanas was supposed to do in a fight. Maybe some oriental or unorthodox technique Lance wasn't aware of?
She pretended to agree. "Right…"
"That was why when Wrench and I won, it had felt like the odds…"
She fell silent.
Since Wrench's fight with Duplicator, they'd been silent. Wrench had a working chance against Duplicator, but…
"Aghh!! W-why!! S-stop…!"
It didn't matter.
There was no stopping in these fights. Duplicator would beat her in. Straddle upon her waist and brutalize her. Using the turrets to block her clones' path was a smart choice. Once Wrench made the unforgiving mistake of trapping herself with Duplicator, it was all over. Those turrets meant nothing, not when they were but pea shots at a princess.
One a tyrant should reward through extensive superiority.
"I…Will not stop."
Wham!
I have to win.
Wham!
I need to win.
Wham!
I want to win.
"And I will claim my rightful status as the greatest fighter in this entire arena."
"Agh…!!! It hurts…It hurts…!!"
Spear clenched her fists tight. "Duplicator had no right to disrespect like that…She's just a young girl."
"She's a semi-finalist and Duplicator's also young."
"But…"
"I don't like how it went, either. But we are all here to provide no mercy. Duplicator's onslaught…Is just a reminder of how capable she is, even on her own. Wrench seems fine, too; actually, even more jubilated than usual. She kept shouting how she got flowers every day but she couldn't figure out who was sending them."
"It wasn't me."
Lance rolled her eyes. "I know."
"How?"
She spread her hands out, lining the table with origami structures, made with paper found from the break room, followed by a plastic golden cat with the swinging arm. "You send little folded cranes and boats and these weird golden cats."
"They're plastic and bid good fortune." Spear cleared her throat. "I know it wasn't you, either."
"How?"
"Your idea of a gift is mashed potatoes and sugar."
"That was one time. You also still ate the potatoes."
Spear cleared her throat. Again. "They were better than what I usually eat…Heard they're healthy for the heart."
"Ha-ha."
"Regardless. Is there any chance of victory? How can anyone possibly repeat your feat?"
"You already know. Win." She chugged the rest of her coffee down in one fell swoop.
Spear stared at her. "I see."
"It's Cah-ra-mal Ma-ki-ah-doe. I like it."
"The coffee or the creamer?"
"Yes."
Duplicator! Versus! Spear!
"Well, well. The other washed up pole decoration." Duplicator was stretching her fingers, her back, and her neck. "I heard things about you."
Spear stared.
"After suffering an unfortunate defeat at the hands of your ill-befitting half-sister, you went out on a long meditative session, didn't you?"
Duplicator let out a gorgeous laugh. A depraved gorgeous laugh.
"And you were the one of the first to have your spear lodged in your backside by the hands of Unarmed. Losing eight versus one…How appropriate that you fools can't possibly understand what it means to be a princess who guides her people. That a win is only possible through the efforts of others around you…Or simply just a bad matchup."
"You're one to talk. Talking of cooperation like it's a sin. You're no different, Duplicator."
"My hands are my own, imbecile. My clones are nothing like the doormats you call help. And what help was it really? Those eight hardly did anything. At least that Lance girl actually fought until the very end while you were losing your last kidney with the rest of them."
Duplicator brushed the dirt from her fingernails; a remnant from her previous fight. Her eyes glimmered with a familiar purple dazzle, the very same that all Earclackers did.
The intent to win, a language every body and mind understood.
"You look so earnest. Confidante. I hope you realize I will crush you. Just like I did your friend."
Spear scowled. "…I will show you what a bad matchup looks like."
"And I will show you true cooperation. And you will obey."
WHO
WILL
WIN?
Spear blitzed her down fast! A three quick strikes, bouncing from wall to wall in this ever changing coliseum.
Spear took to the rear again; a comforting space, but she knew it wouldn't last long.
"You're not quite like Lance…Makes sense I pegged you for a coward."
Duplicator let out a soft giggle, snapping her fingers, just as Spear closed in on her. "And then there were two."
Spear hurled her spear, whipping past Duplicator and landing a good jab at her shoulder. Duplicator whiffed past it. The other came at her flank.
Move.
Her spear whipped around, her legs kicking off the ground and slamming into Duplicator.
Build up more damage…More distance.
"Oddly lacking," her clone cackled.
The two flanked her, harassed her; one would cave in her face and send her hurling into the ground. Spear landed on both feet and swung her spear right into a clone's side hip, bouncing her away.
Crown. Aim for the crown.
They would dance around the fields, in an expanse of trees and ever growing flowers.
"Then there were four~" Duplicator chirped, happily with that superior-sounding voice.
"Hmph." Spear sprung herself up into the air, twirling like an extravagant ballerina. Her spear hit one, two, three, four.
"The length won't matter. Not if I hit you so enough times before you can hit me!"
Spear would prove this wrong. Her spear hit them four, then eight, then twelve times; the last one dug right into Duplicator's side.
"Gah! What- What the…?!"
Spear would continue her onslaught, in a dead calm state.
Then there were eight.
It was by this time, Duplicator was realizing the reality of her situation. This arena was too small. So small that her advantage of numbers was smaller than Spear's latent advantage.
No! I- It's just like…
"Isn't it ironic?"
"Gah- I- I can't-" Duplicator couldn't talk; the spear was directly hitting her vitals, pressuring her heart to burst. She couldn't block the attacks anymore, as it was breaking her arms.
I have to evade! No, I can't! I can't evade!
The same spear slammed into her. Each of her clones were getting hit just the same. No one was landing a single blow.
Block! Hit her! Do something! Anything!!
"Talking trash against those below you. You're no princess."
This was nothing like Duplicator's last fights…Even the one she had lost. Duplicator couldn't avoid Spear's strikes. The range advantage, she couldn't close in, and it was clear Spear had taken full notes from Lance's duel. Since the start of this fight, Spear had always been standing at the skies.
"The cooperation of those around you. It's very you to use hypocrisy to bring those around you down." Her spear extended past the skies, swung into the swarm of Duplicators before her. Every hit, every strike, it amplified the lightning in her eyes. It amplified her mind. It amplified her desire to
WIN.
I don't think I'm winning.
WIN.
I don't think I will win.
WIN.
I won't win.
WIN.
I don't think I can win.
WIN.
I don't win.
WIN.
I can't win!!
WIN.
"W-wha…!?" Duplicator had never felt this overwhelming disparity before. She'd been convinced, no, confidently certain that she was the best…
Was that…An oversight?
"Uugh!" Duplicator was sent flying into the ground once more as Spear crashed her monolith, the primordial piercer, right into Duplicator's chest. She hadn't ever been sent flying like this…!
Duplicator was weak; her vision was fading faster than ever, even faster than her fight against Lance.
"No…No…I can't…"
Her clones were all getting disseminated into the stratosphere. It was like watching an ocean wave get repelled. Spear was pushing back a natural disaster, an apocalyptic event Duplicator thought she had full control over. With every new swing, Duplicator could only eat her own words; she was being shown left and right that she could barely land a hit. It didn't matter, the numbers…All she could see was the overwhelming lightning that dazzled her eyes.
And of course, she could only guard her face from the light that penetrated her core.
"S…Stop…! I…"
"So, as long as I clear all of them out in one single sweep…"
Her clones fell, one after another. It was like watching a castle fall.
No…!
"Then you are nothing but a useless brat."
The light of the ever-dazzling storm pierced right into Duplicator's chest.
"GAh-! C-cough…! U-ugh…"
"Tell me, how does it feel to trample on those weaker than you?"
D-don't you dare…!!
"And how does it feel…"
…Lecture me!!
"…To be beaten by those you deem inferior?"
With those eyes!!
Spear brushed her hair aside.
It didn't matter what the clones could do.
Spear hadn't been out of breath for longer than a few seconds.
She held onto her spear, staring down Duplicator. Held with both hands, holding down the slowly fading Duplicator.
So twisted the great spear, ending this fight in half the time that the legendary Lance had.
…
"Damn it…Damn it…"
Spear was joined up by Lance.
"Don't talk to her. She's…Well, you know."
They both shared a glance at Duplicator; like most budding Earclackers, facing their first reality check was usually the most difficult. Those who had ongoing win streaks often take it harder. Duplicator was standing there, back slouched and her arms against her eyes to hide the tears that were flowing down.
Lance clasped Spear's hand. "That was a great fight."
"…Hardly."
"…?"
Spear sighed. "Why do we fight?"
"To win. Isn't that it?"
"…This win doesn't feel earned."
"Elaborate."
"Winning a fight is one thing. Yet, when a win is earned this easily, this fight is nothing more than what I had said before. Trampling on those weaker than us. It was not even a close bout. The fights...What are they for if everyone knows who wins?"
"…"
"I…Wonder if she truly feels joy in stomping those weaker than her. That fight with Wrench. There's an unexplainable joy I saw, as soon as Duplicator saw the opening, she had pounced and completely saw through it to the end. It was...Like watching you."
"…The joy of fighting someone as strong as you."
"Right. When's the last time you had something like that?"
"When I fought Duplicator."
They took another glance at Duplicator. Without that cocky smirk on her face, the glimmer in her eyes, she looked no different than a school girl who lost her dog. Duplicator's eyes widened as they drifted over to Spear looking back at her.
Lance elbowed her a step forward. "Now might be a time to say something. She's probably traumatized by that glare you were giving her the entire fight."
"…"
Spear approached her.
"…Duplicator."
"…What?" Her broken voice said, like an echo in a dark cave. "Sniff. Come to prattle to me- Hic. -about how I lost?"
"I just thought I'd tell you you fought well."
Duplicator didn't have the energy to act surprised, from what Spear could tell. "Snff. Yeah."
"I noticed you didn't say anything to Wrench after you won. It seemed like you pitied her, even for just a small moment. I don't suppose you were the one sending her those flowers?"
Duplicator's mouth furrowed and bit into its lower lip, then she grit her teeth and closed her eyes. "…Sorry."
"…?"
"For. Saying those things. You and Lance alike."
"…"
"Clearly…I have a lot more to learn. But I swear." She pushed her finger against Spear's chest. "I will fight and win next time. You might have beaten me fair and square, but I'll come back."
"I look forward to it."
Duplicator shared one last look at Spear, took a glimpse at Lance, then turned around. "This isn't the end."
…She left.
Spear glanced at Lance.
Lance glanced back. "Well. I think that conversation went better than I thought it would. Pork buns?"
"...Yes. Let's go."
Duplicator fiddled with her crown. It was a simple-enough crown; there wasn't even gemstones on it; it was just something she had put on to help distinguish herself from her splits. Without it, she was nothing more than a pretender. She didn't belong here. She wasn't even intended to be an Earclacker, she knew that. She was just someone who was given the offer and took up the opportunity to be something more.
Her arms rubbed against her face.
Tsk…I was crying, wasn't I?
There were plenty of chances to prove herself. That's what she told Multiplier, told Orbital, and told Drilly. She swore she'd prove their place in the arena, starting with her.
"…I'll win. I'll win for sure."
Next time.