Knights Apocalyptica
Chapter 231: Old-World Moves

Erec paced towards Jack in the center of the ring, the other man closing in on him. He could feel the eyes of the audience, and heard the shouts of countless people around the ring—all of them calling for him to do one thing: win. Victory, they thought, was assured with their hero. Victory would come to the kingdom of Cindrus with Erec at the helm.

He smelled the excited stench of so many people gathered together, pushing one another forward to watch him, and he felt Fury burn brighter, fueled by his audience—the thrill of the competition, the knowledge he would be in a fight against an opponent he'd never fought before.

Though it wasn't a monster and thus a fight to the death, it still brought the same competitive spirit that dwelt deep within him.

Jack moved in sync with Erec. Every time he stepped closer, the man stepped closer as well. Though Erec wasn't used to using his hands for this sort of wrestling competition, much more leaning towards using his axe and other destructive methods, he felt confident in himself.

How could he not with the way that fury pumped through his veins and that fire bulged in his muscles? Jack wouldn’t give him any issues at all.

Once within seven feet, Erec closed the distance in a single bound. Sand burst behind him in an explosion as he crossed in a second, shoulder aimed downward to ram his opponent to the ground.

Jack grunted as Erec crashed into him, taking the man several steps back toward the edge of the ring and nearly doubling him over as he faced the full force of a flying tackle.

By some miracle of the Goddess, the guy held on.

"You're strong," Jack muttered as Erec twisted him, trying to take him to the ground. But every time Erec made a move—left, right—he suddenly felt his opponent’s balance slipping, moving, shifting. The technique behind it made it difficult to pin the man.

This should’ve been easy. Jack didn’t seem strong. All he had to do to win was get him to the ground, and from there, it would be child's play to put the man in a position where he could hold him still for a solid eight seconds.

But Jack wasn't going down. No matter how Erec moved, Jack was there to counterbalance him.

Erec pulled more at fury, letting his veins run with that heat as he shifted, doing his best to collapse his weight downward and bring Jack with him. As he did so, Jack slipped away and vanished from Erec's arms, only to step back a second later.

The man adjusted his fatigues as he backpedaled.

Erec got back to his feet, confused.

He looked at his hands, unsure exactly what had happened. Considering he'd had a hold on him—it wasn't necessarily a good one—but combined with his strength and weight, they should have been on the ground by now. Not this.

Jack shook his head. "Wow, your eyes do glow red, huh?"

Erec clenched his fist, feeling the fire in his palm spread outward, feeling the blood flow increase. It seemed this opponent was slippery, not in a traditional sense, but just hard to get down and lock into a position. And he didn't know what to think. That was one of his least favorite opponents: those that made it difficult to deal damage or get into any position.

"How'd you do that?" Erec said, his voice calling out as he stalked forward towards Jack. The man was still taking back steps, rounding away as he considered Erec, planning for something.

Erec didn't see how the man might be able to pin him down. Unless Jack had the sort of strength he did, eventually, it would come down to him trying to overpower Erec, which, from that brief struggle they had a second ago, was not a realistic possibility.

"My secret," Jack tapped the side of his nose, and then darted in. He grabbed Erec's arm and then tried to yank it, which Erec simply held straight, his muscles straining as he effortlessly countered the other man’s ability to outmaneuver him.

Jack shifted, dropping his weight to try to drag the arm with it, but Erec held firm, leaving Jack hanging off his arm for one awkward second. Then Erec, seeing that his foe had closed the distance, collapsed on Jack using the weight of his whole body and his mass to hopefully get him to the ground.

This, too, had surprising results. Erec felt him underneath him for a second, feeling victory assured as he collapsed on Jack's position.

Without a doubt, his moment of victory. He’d gotten the drop on his enemy, literally and figuratively.

But a second later, he no longer felt Jack beneath him.

Erec twisted, seeing Jack suddenly on his back as Jack tried to yank Erec’s arm behind his torso. This, too, Erec fought off with relative ease, letting that overwhelming strength go like a tap. His enemy strained until his face was red, but it must’ve been like trying to move solid steel. Even without Fury, it would have been difficult for him to move Erec's body in a way that Erec didn't want it to. Let alone with it.

With his foe holding on, Erec began to yank back, intending to rip him down to the ground.

Jack swore and let go as Erec twisted, lashing out with an arm to grab the man.

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But he was already out of range.

Jack swayed in his spot and rubbed at his jaw. He spat on the ground and smiled. "Wow. You know, I'd heard stories about you. Even just being in this village for a couple of days, talking to any of the people wandering in—there are plenty of stories about the young Knight who’s taken the Kingdom by storm. People said you would be hard competition, but this..." He looked Erec up and down. "This is an almost ridiculous amount of strength."

"What can I say?" Erec said, stretching his muscles as he started to close in towards Jack again, to the crowd cheering around them.

It seemed they were getting more of a show than they initially anticipated—instead of him just being able to steamroll Jack, this had become a frustrating back-and-forth that went nowhere in particular.

"Well, you can tell me just what you're eating. There must be a lot of protein to build muscles like that," Jack said.

Erec snorted. It was a joke in a way, since they both knew that Virtues were the ultimate designator behind strength. Diet had very little to do with how one built muscle, at least as far as he knew. It was a divine providence of power, one built through hard work.

“Lots of eggs,” Erec shot back, and let his Fury burn even brighter. Sheer strength hadn’t disappointed him yet, and adding more to the plate only provided more chances at victory.

The fight continued like this for the next few minutes, with Erec constantly on the forward end, trying to grab Jack and pin him. Jack was now not even attempting to launch his own assaults against Erec, simply always pulling backward, further and further—darting out of reach. Even when Erec got hold of him and felt his skin and wrists under his grasp, Jack somehow slipped out of it.

That was the running theme of their fight. Every time Erec was certain he had him, his hands closed down on a wrist or had the man underneath him in a position that against any other foe would have meant the end was inevitably in sight—Jack would somehow miraculously find a way to get out of it.

As Erec got wiser, his own body moved quicker, his wrestling techniques went less haphazard, and Jack became more focused on trying to get a good grip, but it didn’t get him anywhere. Jack was immune to holds and broke them in ways that would've been impossible otherwise. This ability didn't make sense to Erec. He looked at his hands and at his opponent. Even though he wasn't used to this style of fighting, simple skill didn't amount to this kind of maneuverability and ability to evade locks, which meant that, without a doubt, there was something impossible going on.

And where there was an impossibility in a battle, an unexplained something, the answer was rooted in two causes: either magic, which in a competition like this would require glyphs that would be disqualifying, was impossible, or...

Erec smiled as he stopped moving towards Jack. "You have an interesting talent."

Jack shook his head. "I don't think it's as interesting as yours. To be honest, I find yours disgusting—just what kind of power are you walking around with? But yes, my talent does make it a little harder for you to hold on."

"I thought as much," Erec muttered, as he lurched forward again, trying to grab onto Jack. With him talking, it did nothing good. Jack was Jack, Erec paid close attention to his hands, even with the thrill of Fury running through him, but he couldn't piece it together.

[His limbs are shrinking and stretching like rubber.] Val buzzed in Erec's head as he withdrew from their failed encounter with the man. [This is a match of attrition. When one of your talents fails, it will end.]

Erec looked around. People were still eager, but they seemed confused. He was expected to decimate this foe, but he was unable to even get a hold on him. Were he to grab Jack, it would be over. But Erec looked down at his hands—it seemed almost impossible. Every time he grabbed on, the man had vanished. Trying to grab his clothes had resulted in the same. Whatever his talent was, it was extending outward to his whole body and the clothing around him.

The man conducting the tournament, the Knight with his bald head, had appeared on the sidelines at some point. Watching.

All of them were watching as he failed to get a handle on this man. It was frustrating. Erec felt the type of frustration that pushed Fury even further than before. It didn't feel like an insult to his honor. He didn’t need to grasp the silver flames, not here, not for this. But at the same time, he couldn't say that he'd honestly win in a wrestling match against this opponent.

As the two went around and around, neither making progress, he could see an almost relaxed expression on Jack's face. The other man didn't feel frustrated or annoyed. He just diligently kept going, waiting, accepting their stalemate, waiting to see who would give.

After half an hour, the bald Knight raised his hand and called for a pause in their fight. He strode into the ring, his scalp gleaming in the sun, and looked at all the bystanders with a charming smile.

"Due to an impasse of talents, we've decided to add an additional ruling to this match. The participants must abide by withholding the use of their talents so that we can finally see a victor. I'm sure that some among you’d like to see this go on for hours, but in order to continue the tournament and conduct the rest of the game's affairs on time, we ask that both competitors respect this decision and abide by these new terms."

With that, the Knight retreated back out of the ring, not leaving it up for debate.

Erec felt at a loss. This wasn't the way he wanted to win. With talents out of the fray, as he tried to bury his Fury, doing his best to stem the tide of the heat that had risen up with him in the fight, he knew he didn't want to win by his enemy being forced not to use all the tools he could. That was not the way of the Knight.

It was disappointing. A victory in this method would be hollow.

He strode to the center, hands raised in peace. “I’ll concede,” Erec said, and Jack tilted his head.

"No, Sir Erec of House Audax, you will not be conceding…” he raised his voice and shouted at full volume before Erec could react—“I surrender, this is my loss.”

“What—why?”

Jack smiled easily, "The truth is that you're the stronger competitor anyway, and my job wasn't to win this tournament, simply to gauge your strength for our future fight. I very much appreciated the opportunity to wrestle with you, and I wish you well on the rest of your day."

With that, Jack extended a hand to shake. Erec, feeling unsure of himself and not so happy about this method of victory, shook it anyway. He supposed he could feel fine if his competitor surrendered an acknowledgment of superior strength. But it didn’t sit right. He felt like he’d been tested in a way… By Jack and whoever he worked for.

With an announcement from the Knights around and a roaring scream of approval from the bystanders, Jack retreated out of the ring.

Erec watched him go, seeing the scrawny man who’d defied his expectations simply leave. And with his absence, once again, Fury began to simmer.

This fight was but a pause in the larger one. Yes, he looked forward to seeing Jack in the actual tournament. If he could surprise Erec once, he could do it again. And the best place for it was in a real fight—one where there were no arbitrary rules or limits, one where he could see the full extent of what that man was capable of.

With a chorus of cheers around him, Erec too exited the ring, happy enough in his victory and trying to put it past him, looking forward to the other wrestling matches of the day; today was about enjoying himself. And he wouldn’t let this odd win sour the rest of the fighting he got to do.