Bleak Victory

"One by one, our plans are being burned to scraps..."

Sitting in the dark inside of an abandoned building were the thieves. All of them were gathered around a small rotting wooden table. No of them dared speak a word as their leader wasn't in the best of moods. They watched him as went through the pile of paper lying on the dusty table, setting them on fire through the flame that came out of his index finger, before tossing it onto the floor where it burned to ashes.

The burning papers provided the only light in the room. Every single crack and opening in the room was thoroughly sealed by the thieves, leaving not even a small space where light can shine through. Smoke slowly filled the room, making it difficult for the thieves to breathe but none of them tried to suggest opening a window since no one wanted to face the wrath of the 'boss,' and therefore, didn't say or do anything that might anger him. They simply pulled their shirts or other parts of their clothes to their face to block out the smoke.

Finally, after going through half the pile, the man stopped. He extinguished the fire that was coming out of his index finger and tossed the last burning piece of paper onto the floor. It was only after that, that the boss began to speak. "So, it seems that Randel got killed as well..." he said in a tone that showed just how angry he was. They didn't know for certain as he never came back, and there was the chance that he was still alive, but they could assume so.

Besides that, all their plans were in the gutters. The captured beasts that they were hiding in their base all got killed, most of their gunpowder got confiscated, and now they also lost a member... It was safe to say that things weren't exactly going their way.

"Well, since things are like this..." the boss looked around the table, causing everyone who met his eyes to flinch. "You two," he pointed at two of the thieves. The two of them sat next to each other and they both looked at the boss, scared stiff of what he was going to say. Was he going to punish them? They anxiously waited for the words to come out of his mouth.

"Yes, you two..." the man laughed, sending chills down everyone's spines. This scared the two thieves even more as they weren't sure what he would do to them. But their worry soon eased when they learned that it wasn't a punishment, but rather a mission for them.

"You're up next. I need you two to..." the boss told everyone his plan. "Understood?" He asked them if they understood his plan after he finished explaining it to them.

"Yes," they both answered at the same time.

"Good."

***

"Hey you, wake up. I still don't know your name... But anyway, wake up!"

"I'm awake already," Kies opened his eyes and gently brushed the elf's arm off his shoulder. He had been awake the time when she said her first word.

"Oh, my bad."

"No, don't worry about it." Kies got up from his seat and started to walk down, but Nyana stopped him.

"Where are you going?" she asked him, also getting up, unsure of why he was leaving.

"Hm? Is it not my turn to fight?" Wasn't that the reason why she woke him?

"No. Your companion is fighting," she pointed down at the arena where the next two contestants were already down there, getting ready to fight. Kies saw that one of the contestants had a cat mask.

"Oh..." Kies sat back down in his seat and Nyana did the same. It was Sirks' turn to fight, not his.

"I mean, you do want to watch your companions fight, right?" Nyana asked Kies confusedly, seeing his reaction.

"No, I do. It's just that I forgot they were fighting as well." Kies genuinely forgot that the other three were also in the competition. While telling her that, he had his attention on the arena. The two fighters were about to start. The referee waved his hand, signaling for the two to get ready. He counted down from three and the two contestants wasted no time charging at each other. They clashed blades and went wildly at each other.

After a minute, the two backed away from each other, seeing how they weren't able to overpower each other. Sirks lifted his mask for a bit to spit at the ground. "Pff! Not bad!" he complimented his opponent. He put his mask down immediately after saying that and raised his sword again.

"You're not too shabby yourself!" the other fighter complimented Sirks back. "Though... If you're this skilled, why'd you come here in a team?" he asked, curious about Sirks' decision to do something like this even though he was so skilled himself.

"I have my reasons..." Sirks answered the man.

"If that's your choice then I hope you're prepared for the consequences..."

"Don't worry, I am..." Sirks knew how teams were treated in the tournaments. If they ever made it past the first round, there was a very high chance that the matches were going to be made against them. In short, they were going to be very likely to go up against each other. Though this was illegal, there wasn't really anything they could do about it as they had no way of proving it. The tournament officials would just feign ignorance and the contestants wouldn't take action as they also equally hated teams.

And they had reason to hate teams. It wasn't just the first round where they had an advantage in numbers. During the second and third rounds, they can discreetly lose to other members of their team if they ever get matched up, allowing the other member to move up to the next fight. Utilizing this method, if one of them managed to win first place, the prize would be split among them.

Because of this, teams are hated, and if people did team up, they usually keep a low profile so that they could get away with it. As for why they were so blatantly showing off the fact that they were a team, Sirks had himself to blame for that... And maybe Iris was a little at fault too. He had completely forgotten about the rules of the tournament as he hadn't attended or participated in one for a while now, and Iris didn't remember either and also decided to make these matching masks.

Well, it was too late now. "Take this!" Sirks shouted, turning his blade sideways and in one swift motion, closed the gap between him and his opponent, thrusting the sword forward at the man. His movement was so quick that the man barely had the time to react to the attack and ended up taking the full brunt of it in the stomach. Luckily for the man, and unluckily for Sirks, he had armor plating and the attack didn't do much.

"Nice one," the man grunted, rubbing his stomach, surprised at how quick Sirks had been. He raised his sword and smiled. "I would have actually lost there if I didn't have this..." he tapped his armor.

"Hmph..." Sirks unhappily raised his sword again and the two went at each other. The two traded blows, with Sirks landing most of his on his opponent's armor while his opponent missing all of his strikes against Sirks.

"Ugh! Why are you so nimble!?" his opponent complained, failing to land even a single attack on Sirks.

"Isn't that obvious?" Sirks replied back. Unlike his opponent who was clad in armor, he was wearing nothing more than a vest made of animal hide, granting him more mobility against his opponent who was being weighed down by the armor.

The two exchanged more blows until eventually Sirks' opponent tired out from moving around too much in his heavy armor and his movements slowed. Sirks saw the opening and moved in to deliver the final blow, knocking his opponent over. He fell backward onto the sand and tried to get up but Sirks pointed his sword at his neck.

"My win, don't you agree?" he asked his opponent.

"I- It's my loss."

Upon saying that, the referees moved in and signaled the end of the match. They helped the man onto his feet and escorted him out of the arena. Sirks wiped the sweat off his neck and walked out of the arena too as the next two contestants entered.

"Your companion is skilled," Nyana noted.

"He is," Kies agreed. Sirks was an ex-soldier so that much was expected.

"But... I don't think he will be able to make it to the third round..." the elf added following her compliment.

"Yeah, I don't think he will either," Kies agreed again with her statement. It wasn't that Sirks' skills were lacking or anything. In fact, his swordsmanship was still top-notch. Throughout the entire fight, his opponent hadn't been able to land a single attack on him. The reason why Kies believed that he wouldn't be able to make it to the third round wasn't because of his skills, but rather, it was because of his age. It seemed that his old age was getting to him even though he was only in his thirties.

He and Nyana watched as Sirks stumbled out of the arena after the fight, overtaken by fatigue. He was either far too old or out of shape, or maybe both, to fight. Kies wasn't sure if Sirks had the energy to get through a second fight much less a third one. With that being said, Kies wondered how the other two were going to fare.

Iris and Wompa weren't well-trained in fighting from what he had seen and they were going against people that spent their entire life with a sword in their hand. Though he didn't want to make any conclusions right now as he hasn't even seen them fight yet, he wasn't expecting much from them. As rude as it was to think that, he knew that he wasn't the only one. It was pretty obvious by now, but it seemed that the only person from their team that they could expect to make it to the third round was himself.

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