02: A BAR SET TOO HIGH II

The blades collided, causing sparks to shoot across the concrete floor. To Stanier's astonishment, Jalon was a lightning fast runner. He wriggled and danced his way around Stanier, dodging his blind swings with ease. Jalon took a step forward and stepped on another vial, which exploded and blinded Stanier with a flash of light. As his blade struck with Stanier's crystalline skin, he swung it with tremendous force, shattering fragments and sent them soaring into the air.

Stanier lurched back, and before he could regain his feet, he was struck again, knocking him down. When he landed on the vials again, the elixirs bathed his entire body, soaking his garments with the potion. Jalon's name was chanted again and again by the crowd. Some questioned how he was able to dominate the lone wolf despite their swordsmanship being on par. Jalon's strategy, on the other hand, put Stanier at a significant disadvantage. By taking away his eyesight and stance, he had completely messed up his combat style, making it difficult for him to perform anything.

Before Jalon could reach him, Stanier stood up and pulled a page from his grimoire. “Dragon's breath,” he said as he hurled it towards Jalon. He seemed to have forgotten that an umpire was among them and could have been gravely harmed if caught in the crossfire when the page detonated, engulfing practically the entire platform in smoke and fire.

As he approached Stanier, Jalon dodged beneath the fireball and slid across the floor, breaking the vials and causing them to explode with blinding light. As the blasts drew closer and closer, Stanier raised his blade in preparation for Jalon's onslaught. He'd been staring at the blazing light for far too long when he saw Jalon's boot shoot out from the blast just as he was ready to close his eyes. He sliced at it right away, aiming to paralyse him.

He failed miserably, his sword slicing through the air and slamming into the earth. Jalon slithered beneath Stanier's frame and swung his blade again, sweeping him off his feet and into the air. Stanier despised Jalon's unconventional combat style. It was sneaky and clever, unlike the one-on-one sword duel he was used to. It was getting on his nerves, and Stanier was losing his calm as Jalon landed hit after hit. Stanier smashed into a stack of vials that Jalon had put under him, and his body was crushed into the ground by the sheer force of Jalon's assault.

Jalon then stepped back and stood there watching as Stanier got to his feet. As the throng sang his name, he began waving to them. Stanier slammed one palm against the ground while rubbing the pain from his eyes with the other.

“I thought you were serious about this fight?” Jalon said, mocking Stanier’s foreign accent. Stanier crept over to his sword and took it in his hands.

“I see what you're doing,”   As he grabbed for his sword, he snarled, "You're attempting to force me to fight on your terms."

“Well, that was the plan,” Jalon remarked, cockily waving his blade. “If you can't keep up, just tell the umpire you're forfeiting and I won't have to keep embarrassing you in front of all these people,” Jalon continued.

“However, there is one thing I know about you...” Stanier remarked. He raised his arm and pointed to Jalon's jacket in particular. When Jalon looked down, he noticed a small piece of paper protruding from one of his jacket's many pockets. As he attempted to get the paper out of his jacket, his eyes widened in surprise. Unfortunately, it was too late.

Stanier said, "void of emptiness!" Jalon was swallowed whole by a vortex that appeared on the page and grew exponentially. When Stanier turned to his side, another vortex appeared, spitting forth Jalon, who fell in Stanier's hands. Stanier smiled as he snatched him by the collar and held him hung.

He reached for Jalon's ghoulish mask and exclaimed, "You just have one flow, you have limited defensive awareness and capabilities!" He yanked it from his face and threw it outside the platform. He then delivered a powerful blow to Jalon's gut. As the fist drove further, almost breaking Jalon's ribs, he almost coughed up his bowels. Stanier pressed his knuckles into Jalon's stomach several times, letting out all of his rage.

Jalon's fans, who had been raucous and uncontrollable only moments before, had gone utterly silent. They stood there watching as hit after hit landed on their warrior, and neither they nor Jalon could do anything about it. Stanier appeared to have more strength than anybody expected for a man of his size; he managed to keep Jalon suspended in the air as his other arm threw punch after punch, never seeming to tyre.

Soon after, Jalon was entirely out of air, and he tried his utmost to take in as much air as he could. The pain in his chest was far from excruciating, and it felt like someone was repeatedly pounding a hammer into his lungs. With the way he built up his attack, Stanier was quite deceptive.

After Jalon's first few attacks, he immediately understood that he was leaving himself wide open, primarily because he assumed he would never need to defend himself because his plan was impregnable. He'd completely forgotten that he was up against a lorth magician. Stanier took advantage of the situation. He was attempting to deceive Jalon into forgetting about his grimoire by using his sword as a decoy. All he had to do was enable Jalon to get close enough for him to slip a page into one of his pockets, which he could then use because all he had to do was recite a spell to activate the page.

Jalon attempted to rip Stanier's arm from him, but his efforts were in vain. “You, too, underestimated me. Stanier finally let go of Jalon and let him slump to the ground, saying, "I was telling you the truth, submit now or I won't have to pain any more than I already have."

As soon as his feet reached the ground, Jalon slid up into a foetal posture, clutching his abdomen because the pain wouldn't go away. Stanier stood over him, laughing down on him as he watched him grunt in pain and relish every minute of it.

“You're dumb, vials won't help you now. You don't have your mask to protect you, which means that if you activate it, you'll be blinded as well.”

Jalon didn't respond; instead, he gritted his teeth and tried to stand up.

“it seems like the table have turned on Jalon. He was in charge of the fight just seconds before, and now he's at the mercy of the lone wolf,” the announcer continued, the crowd falling silent once more.

Jalon attempted to climb back to his feet, but Stanier kicked him down again.

“If you don't get it by now, it's over.” Stanier replied, moving closer to Jalon, his crystallised skin jingling as it brushed against the fabric of his turtle neck shirt, which was soaked in the elixir from all the vials he smashed when he went down.

Jalon turned to the umpire and locked his gaze on him for a long time. The umpire then raced towards the two and shoved Stanier away, then backed up and smiled, mocking Jalon by pointing at him and saluting to the crowd. As he did so, the audience began to boo him.

Due to the potion that had covered virtually the entire stadium due to the broken vials, the umpire knelt down on one knee, unconcerned about his trousers getting wet.

“Are you all right? The umpire asked Jalon, "Do you want to forfeit the match?" “No, listen to me...” Jalon began, shaking his head vehemently.

As he spoke to the umpire, Jalon drew him closer to him and obscured their conversation by placing his hand over the umpire's ear. Stanier couldn't hear what Jalon was saying to the umpire; all he saw was the umpire shaking his head whenever Jalon took a breath.

The umpire finally rose to his feet and stepped back. He moved all the way to the platform's edge and pulled a vial from his pocket. When he flushed the contents of the vial down, his skin hardened into a stone-like texture. Stanier lingered for a while, unsure of what Jalon had told the umpire. He then moved over to Jalon and grabbed his arm, preventing him from removing another vial from his jacket.

“I thought you said you were quitting to the umpire?” He grabbed Jalon's collar once more, asking, "Do you still want me to shame you in front of your people?" Jalon drew his blade and slid his arm past Stanier's view. He threw it at Stanier's head, but Stanier grabbed it and yanked the blade away, flinging it aside before it could build enough momentum to prove lethal.

“I see, so you want me to keep going?” he stated

Stanier was taken aback when Jalon began giggling.

“Can you tell me what you're laughing about?  What amuses you so much?” Stanier enquired.

“You and I are really similar in that we both assume a lot of things. Jalon responded, "Just like you assumed all the vials surrounding you."

“Do you think this is amusing?  Well you wo'nt be laughing when I break off your arm just like your friend Norval!” Stanier remarked. He then lunged for Jalon's hand, grabbing it by the shoulder and wrist, preparing to wrench it from its socket. Stanier felt a sudden pressure on his chest just before he did so. He could see Jalon's palm lying on the grimoire strewn across his chest as he gazed down.

“Like I said, you assumed the vials around you. I knew my defence couldn't compete with yours, so I devised a fail-safe strategy. Some of the bottles I tossed around were designed to be flash grenades, while others were meant to be explosives that would go off anytime I wanted. It just so happens that you're covered in the explosive potion, so I can detonate it whenever I want and bring this entire platform crashing down,” Jalon explained.

As the two exchanged ardent looks, tension rose.

“The explosion will damage you as well, and since my skin is tough enough to withstand the blast, I guarantee you won't be standing after it's all said and done,” 

“Don't worry, I didn't forget about it. I performed some research and discovered something regarding lorth mage grimoires. If they're destroyed, all of the mage's magical spells, whether cast on himself or others, will cease to exist. My hand is over your grimoire because the same explosive potion has soaked up pages of it. If I detonate the potion, the grimoire will be destroyed, your glass skin will not shield you from the explosion, and your protective spell will not protect you from the blast,” Jalon stated confidently.

The abrupt change in Jalon's personality caught Stanier completely off guard. The arrogant and ignorant guy had vanished, and in his place came a man who had thrown caution to the wind and was eager to blow up the entire arena simply to win. When he looked into Jalon's eyes, all he saw was a crazy, which made him uncomfortable. It made him wonder if the Jalon he saw before the fight was just a ruse, and the one standing in front of him at the time was the actual Jalon.

"So, do you want to take a chance?" Jalon inquired once more, his fingers digging deeper into the damp grimoire.

“So the umpire drank the potion for that reason?  To keep himself safe?” Stanier enquired.

Jalon did not respond; instead, he merely glared him down. Stanier, on the other hand, was not one to back down from a challenge, no matter how absurd or realistic it appeared to be.

“If you blow up the entire platform, we're all going to lose,” he warned.

“No, that is not the case; all I have to do now is stay on this platform and knock you off.  In any event, if both of us manage to stay on the platform, they will count out the man who does not get up before the count expires, resulting in the winner being the last man standing, so are you willing to wager on who will be able to endure the blast? Because I have the potion I need to help me survive it, and even if you survive the blast, your grimoire will be obliterated, leaving you with nothing to assist you continue this fight. So I ask you again? Are you willing to take the chance?” Jalon spoke without flinching through the entire sentence.

Stanier tried to seem strong when he added, “What if this is all a bluff, I can risk it all.”

“It's possible. But are you willing to put your grimoire on the line for a possible bluff? A grimoire that you worked so hard to obtain and that you can't replace?” Jalon remarked. Stanier tried his hardest to read Jalon's mind, but his eyes were as blank as his grimoire's pages. Jalon's hand was on the grimoire when he looked down again. He knew it was a bluff, but was he prepared to risk losing his grimoire in order to prove it? He couldn't do it. He sighed deeply before lifting his head to face Jalon.

“Jalon, you're one crazy man. Stanier remarked, "I hope your friends never get to see the real you." He surrendered by raising his hands into the air. The audience was curious as to what the two were discussing. They couldn't hear them because all they could see were them standing on the platform, exchanging heated stares.

Stanier finally turned around and yelled at the umpire.

“I yield!”

A loud blare sounded as the umpire lifted his palm towards the judges panel. He dashed over to Jalon and supported him in getting to his feet. He then took his hand in his and turned to face the audience.

The announcer remarked, "Jalon Barr has been declared the winner through submission!" The crowd erupted, tossing papers and banners bearing his name onto the stage. Before turning to Stanier, Jalon bowed to them. Before Stanier descended the steps and vanished into the hallway, he grabbed for his arm and the two exchanged a hard handshake. Jalon moved across the platform, bowing in every direction, taking in the applause and cheers. The panel of judges sprang to their feet and began cheering him. The countless punches that were hammered into his abdomen were still bothering him, but the glory of winning the contest was a worthy consolation.