//------------------------------// // Rise Again: Part 2 // Story: My Little Pony Heart of Friendship: Tales of a New Beginning // by ShadowDurza //------------------------------// In a couple flashes of light, Spike and Discord appeared sitting in the commentator’s box wearing a pair of suits and a brown and black wig respectively. Spike straightened his tie. “Well! If that wasn’t the finest display of magical might combined with martial finesse I’ve ever seen…!” Discord rolled his eyes, this time with professionalism as they remained in his head. “It’s the only display of magical might combined with martial finesse you’ve ever seen, friend! How often do you see karate-chopping, sword fighting unicorns in Canterlot?” However, a second face appeared on the back of Discord’s head with its own set of arms holding a notepad and pen, chuckling. “I’ve definitely got to remember that one!” Spike giggled and scratched his snout. “Still though, I’ve read enough comic books to know a good fight scene when I see it, and that one was one of the best I’ve ever seen! On print or otherwise! “The way I see it, Otto’s spells might be a bit better than Wilda’s, but Wilda’s got the edge in martial skill and managed to get really hard hits in! Otto probably declared that final clash because he thought it was the only way to clinch the fight, and clinch it he did! I wasn’t expecting those tiger and alligator spells, and I wonder what other aces in the hole the fighters on each team are hiding up their sleeves!” Suddenly, Maxine revealed her presence by speaking up. “Well, odds are they’re going to keep them up their sleeves until they really need them. In team matches, a final clash is only supposed to be called once. Declaring one a second time is considered shameful and displays an inability to cope, especially if it’s done by the same team. Although it isn’t written in the official rules, this is typically the norm in most scenarios.” A surprised Discord craned his neck and narrowed his eyes at Maxine. “Where did you come from? I didn’t warp you into this little gag of mine!” Maxine chuckled and held up her hand, wagging her finger. “I might not have the magic of my youth, but even the forces of order and chaos bow down to the power of time!” At that, Discord could only cross his arms, roll his eyes, and grumble under his breath. “By the way, while I appreciate a change of pace as much as the next lady, where did you send the normal commentators?” At this, Discord turned away, giving a wry smile. “Oh… let’s just say they’re someplace warm and sunny…” At that, Maxine made a dismissive sound and turned to look back at the arena. “Well, I should probably mention that it’s at points like these where the strategic elements of the Tower Format come into play. As we speak, the teams are using the five-minute break between fights to deliberate over their next move. “On Prancing Pony’s part, their options are to either deploy their second guardsman, or change formation and utilize one of their specialists. Guardsmen are typically made up of warriors who’s fighting styles emphasize power and resilience, a safe bet in most situations. But specialists are often made up of warriors who’s fighting styles are technical and adaptive or tricky and counteractive; they have a lot to gain if they can correctly anticipate their opponents’ next move. “On Rising Dragon’s part, their options are to continue with Otto or make a substitution with one of their specialists. Otto’s been through a hard fight, he probably won’t be at one-hundred percent even after the break. But if they tag him out now, they may risk showing their hand sooner than necessary and inadvertently give their opponents an advantage in the long run.” Discord leaned back on his seat and made a self-assured sound as he scratched his bare chin. “Do I detect a little bias in your commentary, Madame von Wrinkle? I don’t really see how you’re qualified to sit at this desk if you’re unable to give your guild juniors the proper indifference of a professional commentator.” Maxine returned Discord’s posture, steepling her fingers. “I can assure you, my little draconequus, I’m more than qualified to fill this role because I know all there is to know about elemental warriors. I know how they operate, I know their culture, I know what they value, and I know what they resent. Most of all, I know that they’ll never reach their true potential if I coddle them all the time. This may be a rare opportunity to see my boys pushed to their limits and unlock what they’re truly capable of. To deny them that would be cruel and demeaning. All the better if they can do so for their rivals as well. ‘Iron sharpens iron’ after all.” At this, another Discord bent to whisper something from the other side of Spike. “And I thought Celestia liked to talk!” This got some muffled giggles out of the small dragon, and got Maxine to roll her eyes and wistfully smirk. On the other side of the pit on the officials’ podium, two messengers coming from the adjacent corners of the arena delivered two slips of paper. After reading both, the referee snapped their fingers and disappeared in a flash of colored light, reappearing likewise in the center of the arena before pressing a glowing finger to his throat and gesturing to Rising Dragon’s corner “After deliberation during the intermission, Team Rising Dragon has decided to maintain their First Guardsman’s deployment! Re-introducing: Otto Ophidion!” The crowd, showing the typical favoritism to a winner, roared as Otto made his way back to the center of the ring, despite his clearly forced serene expression and overly-careful stride. The referee then reversed his position, dramatically pointing in the opposite direction. “After their deliberation, Team Prancing Pony has altered their formation! Introducing The Prancing Pony First Specialist: Traaace Paragooon!” Trace, holding a confident manner, made his way to the center of the ring from his corner. Pausing briefly several times to strike a pose and get a short but intense rise out of the cheering crowd. The referee moved aside to let both competitors have their words. Trace made his as he made some warm-up stretches in a cocky manner. “I feel sorry for the crowd! I really hope they weren’t expecting much from this fight, because I guarantee it’ll be over in an instant!” In response, Otto made an attempt at a somewhat cocky expression himself, but it came out as mostly spiteful before he began to sign. Even a python can make easy prey out of a grounded falcon! Trace was obviously put off by this statement, but he merely scoffed, kicked at some dirt, and looked away. The referee held up their hand. “Ready?” Both competitors took a stance and materialized their weapons. The referee quickly swung down their hand. “Fight!” Rather than directly engage, Otto rapidly kicked some dirt into Trace’s face, making him recoil. Then he leaped back and took a neutral stance as his body was covered in a dark-green film. With a flexing motion, Otto tore off this film, revealing a pristine body free of the many bruises and abrasions from his previous fight. Back in Trace’s corner, the previously excited Rainbow Dash now looked upon the scene before her in confusion. “Uh… What was that? A healing spell?” Boros gave Trace’s corner girl a glance. “I assume it’s technically classified as a recovery spell. This is probably definitive proof that Otto’s strongest attribute is his proficiency in spells, not to say that any of his other attributes are even remotely lackluster. But regardless, using magic to heal, even oneself, requires a lot of natural talent for that particular kind of spellwork. To do so without that knack can’t be very efficient…” Rainbow Dash abruptly gestured towards the center of the ring. “Well, why not do that kind of thing between fights?” At this, Boros merely shook his head. “The commission wouldn’t have it. The rules are very clear in that regard: When the competitors are in the arena, they can’t use magic at all except in their own fight. Even using it for a trivial matter risks disqualification.” Back in the ring, Otto made a confident leer at Trace and raised his foot to assume his normal stance. Trace, after clearing away the dust obstructing his vision, gripped his staff tightly, pointed it forward, and dashed. Otto was barely able to deflect the first strike, and was sent backpedaling as Trace followed through with a rapid combo, clumsily deflecting each strike with an intricate bicycling motion as he moved. Eventually, Trace adjusted his grip and began a rapid series of thrust attacks, forcing Otto to sidestep each one. Right when Trace saw his opportunity in his opponent’s footing, he brought his bo staff back really high before making a sweeping low swing. Otto was sent tumbling to the ground, and Trace rapidly followed up by dashing to his side and touching his opponent with a glowing hand, covering his body in the same white light and making him move very, very slowly. The referee appeared right next to Otto and made his call. “That’s a knockdown! Trace, three! Otto, zero!” The referee proceeded to make his count. By the time Otto had managed to sit halfway up, the referee had made it all the way to ten. With a snap of his fingers, Trace had dispelled the magic he’d used on Otto and approached the referee, who’d raised his hand to the roaring crowd, leaving the dejected Otto to slink back to his corner. Back in Trace’s corner. Boros was nodding with a look of approval. “I knew it! That last spell left Otto completely out of magic! He probably thought that if he were at peak physical performance, he could contend with whatever Trace could throw at him. His undoing was his overconfidence! Only magic can defend against magic.” However, Rainbow Dash viewed the whole situation with incomprehension. “But wait… That was a ten count! The last fight ended with Otto’s spell used on Wilda as a pin! What gives? How is that fair?” Boros gestured at the twitching pegasus. “Things like that are up to the specific referee’s preference. Take the hits counted in the last fight: He counts effective strikes to the extremities as clean hits, but strikes to the head and torso area as critical hits. In this case, he didn’t count Trace’s spell as a pin because unlike last time where the spell exerted a force on its target, Trace’s just endowed his opponent with a new property to make him a whole lot slower. Regardless, it all worked in our favor, so no need to be a sore winner.” Rainbow Dash could only pout at those words, but brightened up when Trace got back to the corner and did a hoof/hand maneuver with him. “Did you have a hard time with that big snake in the grass?” At that, Trace scoffed. “You kidding? Maybe if I’d fought him right off the bat, but right now he’s just a viper without its fangs!” At this however, Boros gave Trace a wary look. “It’s good to be able to know the value of one’s achievements, but overconfidence was Otto’s undoing. Don’t let it be yours, Trace.” Trace and Rainbow Dash merely scoffed and rolled their eyes in synch. *** After another five minute break and deliberation, the referee returned to his position in the center of the ring, holding his glowing finger to his throat. “After the intermission, Team Prancing Pony has decided to maintain their deployment of their first specialist! Re-introducing: Trace Paragon!” Trace appeared to approach his position nonchalantly amidst the roar of the crowd. But he broke all illusions as he coaxed greater fervor out of the crowd with more over dramatic poses. After Trace (eventually) got to his place in the center of the ring, the referee gestured to the opposing corner. “After deliberation, Team Rising Dragon has not adjusted their positioning and shall send out the next fighter in formation! Introducing Team Rising Dragon’s Second Guardsman: Kraaank Delcroooss!” The armor-plate wearing human made his way to his position, albeit using an over-exaggerated mechanical series of motions. After the referee stepped aside, Trace just scoffed and dismissively scratched his nose. “Didn’t anyone tell you that steam power went out with the internal combustion engine, Krank my bro? Granted, both of them wish they could keep up with me!” Betraying no obvious comprehension of his opponent’s statement, Krank simply made his armor give off a low mechanical hissing sound. He followed this with three rhythmic beats against his armored chest and finished this routine with a dramatic flexing motion paired with a high-pitched mechanical whistling. The referee raised his arm. “Ready?” Both fighters took a stance, but whereas Trace materialized his weapon, Krank simply bared his fists. The referee swung down his arm. “Fight!” Trace took the initiative. He raised his bo staff in an over-the-shoulder stance and dashed to his opponent, hitting him with a barrage of stabbing thrusts. However, Krank quickly braced himself in response, absorbing most of the blows. However, Trace finished his strike combo by nimbly adjusting his form, jumping back, and making a hard jabbing thrust into Krank’s unprotected abdomen with a running start, sending Krank staggering back. The referee rushed to make his call. “Critical Hit! Trace, Two! Krank, Zero!” Back in Trace’s corner, Rainbow Dash couldn’t help but sneer. “Did that even do anything? What’s the point of wearing armor in a combat sport?” Boros made a dismissive gesture. “You can bring pretty much anything you want into a pro dueling fight as long as you declare it to the commission beforehand and get their okay. But really, nothing is ever a given in a one-on-one fight, even more so when magic is involved. Metal armor would be a detriment against a lightning elemental, but really, there’s just no telling if an elemental warrior has at least one spell that uses their element in a completely unconventional way. There have been fire elementals who could make their flames take on the properties of a grease fire, making defenses based on water magic useless despite the natural advantage.” Back in the ring, even after the referee declared the okay to go back to fighting, both fighters stood at a distance from each other for a moment. Suddenly, Trace got an overly-playful expression and abruptly dropped his guard. He began jogging in place, his legs getting faster and faster until they were a blur. Then, he took off like a rocket to the side, getting to the edge of the pit and abruptly changing direction in a sharp angle as rebounding. He repeated this action countless times at countless points, each at a different angle, making both the referee and Krank look confused as they struggled to follow the blur making a star-like shape in the big indentation in the land. Krank must have sensed something, as he abruptly crouched and raised his forearms over his head, which proved to be somewhat effective as Trace changed his path to make multiple hard, running swings at him as he passed, sounding like a machine gun. At this, Rainbow Dash exasperatedly gestured with both hooves. “Oh, come on! How is that not a bunch of clean hits?” Boros cocked his head to the side. “I think the referee's logic is simple, but sound. A hit should only count if it visibly does something to the opponent. In most cases, a barrage of hits will only get you enough points for one if they’re effective under the reasoning that they’re collectively one attack. There are a lot of critics of the pin rules thinking that they make the fights end too soon as is. Spectators want to get their money’s worth after all.” Back in the ring, Trace maintained his onslaught while Krank maintained his position, appearing to have no intention of countering. However, the apparatus on his back appeared to be heating up, puffing out greater amounts of steam with each hit to Krank. Once the apparatus on his back was so full of energy that it appeared to vibrate, Krank abruptly thrust upwards, sending out a shockwave that sent the oncoming Trace flying. However, while in midair, Trace quickly flipped and landed on his feet with his staff raised. Trace however, was unprepared to have Krank zoom up to him almost as fast as he was previously, barely able to sidestep and duck under each heavy swing of his arm. Krank finished this combo by leaping and smashing his arm into the ground. Trace seemed to avoid this by dashing backwards, but he was unprepared for the explosive burst of steam that diffused from the ground at Krank’s point of impact, sending him flying onto his back. The referee appeared next to Trace and made his call. “Knockdown! Krank, Three! Trace, Two!” The referee began his count, but halfway to four, Trace leaped to his feet and struck a pose with his staff. After the referee made the okay to keep fighting, Trace took off like a bolt of lightning towards Krank, spinning his staff. Krank took a braced stance to receive this attack, his open palms held forward. However, right when Trace was about to make a hard upward swing with his staff, the gong sounded and he suddenly stopped. Both competitors took a moment to scowl at one another before turning around and heading back to their corners.