(Sky-God Arena — Round of 32: Du Plessis vs. Pistachio)
The crowd roared as the first fighters of the day stepped onto the Flat Prairies arena.
Du Plessis adjusted his short swords with a cocky grin, waving toward the stands where Rodova's supporters erupted into cheers, whereas across from him, Pistachio, quietly rolled his shoulders, eyes calm and unreadable.
"And we're off!" Derek called as the referee signaled for the match to begin.
Du Plessis charged first, blades flashing as he pressed Pistachio onto the defensive. His attacks ca fast and sharp, a flurry of precise slashes forcing Pistachio to retreat step by step.
"For now, it's all Du Plessis," Lee comnted. "He's clearly the quicker fighter, and he's capitalizing on it."
Within monts, Du Plessis seed to push Pistachio back towards the marked boundary of the arena, completely dictating the pace.
"Ooo—, Pistachio needs to be careful here, he's running out of ground to retreat, 20 more ters backed up and he will suffer from a ring-out elimination!" Derek comnted, as understanding his precarious position, Pistachio stopped backing away and tried to stand his ground, only for a clean slash from Du Plessis to graze his shoulders.
*SLASH*
The crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of first blood, as streams of red hot blood squirted everywhere.
Pistachio reeled in pain from the blow, his mobility reduced, as his lousy attempt to counter was quickly neutralized by Du Plessis, who disard his opponent, by having his short sword fly out of his hands.
"WOAH! What a move by Du Plessis, he's practically toying with his opponent now–" Derek said, as with his opponent seemingly at his rcy, Du Plessis—rather than finishing the fight—turned his head toward the audience, raising a hand in triumph.
He wanted to savor this mont, he wanted to showboat a bit before ending the fight, however, this one slip-up proved to be his biggest mistake.
As while the crowd cheered louder, Pistachio did not hesitate to make the most of this opportunity either, as drawing another blade from the scabbard wrapped around his waist, Pistachio lunged forward, sidestepping Du Plessis' poorly guarded flank.
As with a swift, ruthless slash, he opened up Du Plessis' exposed face.
*SLASH*
Du Plessis stumbled, eyes wide in disbelief as he felt blood dripping from his handso face.
"What?" He murmured in disbelief, worried about how his handso face must look now, as Pistachio followed up with another decisive strike to his temple, knocking him out cold.
*THUD*
Du Plessis' limp body hit the floor, as the entire arena fell into stunned silence.
"What just happened?!" Derek gasped. "Pistachio turns it around in the blink of an eye!"
Lee shook his head. "Du Plessis got too cocky. He had the fight in the bag and threw it away for a mont of showboating. A rookie mistake."
The comntators criticised Du Plessis for his stupidity, however, they did not curse him out-loud like Leo did from the stands.
"Fucking showboating Idiot," Leo muttered under his breath, grinding his teeth in frustration.
As the referee raised Pistachio's hand as the winner.
"And just like that, Button Academy draws ahead! Rodova is 0-1 down!" Derek announced as the crowd erupted into mixed cheers and gasps.
"Leo? What do we do now? We never thought about what to do if Du Plessis lost the first fight? It wasn't supposed to be this way?
Which one of us steps up next?
I'm only supposed to fight their Archer, while Kohli is supposed to take on their mage, and Boxer is supposed to take on their Tank.
But since we lost the initiative, it's us who has to send a replacent fighter next? So who goes?" Drake asked Leo, as Leo let out a long sigh.
He glanced towards Yu Shen in the crowd, who seed to already have an idea of what was going on, as he pointed towards Boxer to go next.
"Boxer goes—" Leo declared, as it was the close range specialist that went-in next, allowing Button Academy to respond with a counter strategy of their own.
—---------
To face Boxer, the close-range specialist, Button sent in Dianne, their nimble and sharp-eyed archer, in what was, on paper, the worst possible match-up for Boxer to take.
However, expectations from Boxer still remained high, afterall Boxer was a Rodova fighter, a cut above most other academy students, and was still anticipated to win, even against an unfavorable opponent.
But the mont Boxer stepped onto the battlefield, Leo's instincts scread at him that sothing was off.
The way Boxer hesitated, the nervous look plastered on his face— it was clear as day.
'He hasn't studied her,' Leo realized, grinding his teeth.
As the referee signaled for the fight to begin, Boxer charged in with his trademark aggression, looking to close the distance before Dianne could set up. But it was a stupid decision.
He did not have the raw speed to cover 30 ters of separation within a split second, and that gave Dianne enough ti to knock her first arrow.
*SWISH!*
Dianne fired off a frost-tipped arrow that struck the ground in front of Boxer, instantly freezing a patch of the prairie as Boxer slipped clumsily, losing his montum.
Instead of adapting and taking a more cautious approach, he lunged forward recklessly.
As *BOOM!*
This ti, Dianne loosened an explosive arrow that detonated on impact, sending Boxer staggering backward with singed clothes and several shallow cuts.
"She's not just an archer—she's a rare mage-archer," Derek exclaid. "She's not using predetermined arrows, she's enchanting them on the go as she needs, Lee!"
"Boxer looks like a fish out of water, Derek. He was ready for a simple brawl but didn't prepare for this!" Lee replied.
Instead of resetting or slowing down, Boxer doubled down on blind aggression, attempting to close the gap without any thought.
However, his punches t nothing but air as Dianne used the open terrain perfectly, kiting him effortlessly.
Then—
One more frost arrow struck his ankle, locking his movent for just a split second.
But that second was all she needed.
As *THWIP!*
Dianne landed a clean shot to the back of Boxer's knee, forcing him to collapse.
"You're mine—" she declared at that point, as before he could even try to rise or recover, a third arrow pinned him to the ground, forcing the referee to step in and declare him unable to continue.
"An absolute humiliation for Rodova!" Derek called. "That's a clean and decisive win for Dianne!"
Leo could barely watch, grinding his teeth so hard it hurt. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath.
But the nightmare didn't end there.
Kohli entered next against Button's third fighter, hoping to salvage the situation.
However, just like Boxer, he crumbled. His overly defensive stance was exploited by the Button swordsman who baited him into a tight spot, only to disarm and incapacitate him within minutes.
"Button takes another one!" Lee shouted, almost in disbelief.
Then ca Drake, known for his calculated fighting style, but the nerves got to him.
The opponent, utilizing the flat terrain perfectly, overwheld Drake's slower, reactionary style with sheer aggression and outmaneuvered him, as within five minutes, Drake was lying on his back, staring up at the clouds in sha.
"And with that," Derek declared, "Rodova is down four to nothing! Lee, I don't think anyone in this arena thought Button Academy would be leading Rodova of all teams by this margin!"
Leo sat motionless, staring blankly at the field, his jaw locked in frustration.
Rodova— one of the tournant favorites— was now just one defeat away from a humiliating early exit, and it was all up-to Leo now to salvage the situation.
'I knew these idiots focus on match-ups and strategy too much instead of focusing on their own strength–' Leo cursed as he stepped onto the battlefield, only to be welcod by a tense and silent crowd, who did not even cheer him on.
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