//------------------------------//
// Rise Again: Part 4 
// Story: My Little Pony Heart of Friendship: Tales of a New Beginning 
// by ShadowDurza 
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Spike, having previously been on the commentators' desk whooping and hollering, now sat calm and composed in his seat, his wig askew after having tossed it into the air. "A stunning development as any, whereas the first fight had been a display of the basic arts of human elemental magic combat, this fight could certainly be called a captivating glimpse into the tactical applications of human magic and combat arts.

"Krank, while dwarfing his opponent and displaying the knowhow to use his size and element to his advantage in a head-on struggle, faltered against Trace, who claimed victory by fighting on a higher level, essentially forcing the battle to conform to his rules."

Discord, sipping tea delivered by a tiny train he conjured with a kettle serving as the boiler, exhaled with an air of sophistication as he returned his cup to its saucer. "While I do admit I usually find myself rooting for the big guy in these situations, I find the idea of making an opponent trip and tumble helplessly to be a show worth watching!"

Maxine, having helped herself to a cup of her own after dexterously avoiding the kettle's attempt to spray her in the face (to Discord's mild displeasure) gently placed her saucer on the table. “Since the last battle I’ve seen him fight, Trace has definitely improved by leaps and bounds. Not everyone realizes this even among my own kind, but becoming a top-class warrior doesn’t mean a warrior’s journey is over, but they’ve merely begun an even greater journey of self-betterment. His ability to transform his weapon is a sign that he’s advanced beyond what most consider a dead end.

“However, here and now, it’s obvious he can do no more. He’s burned out his magic, and that last clash was a desperate but successful attempt to catch his opponent off-guard one more time, fulfilling his role as a specialist in this team match. It’s good that he hasn’t taken many blows in his fights, but he’ll need time to replenish his power, and I assume his team will decide as much too.”

After looking over both teams' formation submissions, the referee appeared once again in the exact center of the ring, holding his finger to his throat. "Having received both teams' formation orders, I am here to announce the oncoming of two new fighters!"

The referee held his hand out to Team Prancing Pony's side. "Having shuffled their first specialist back to their original formation, introducing Team Prancing Pony's Second Guardsman… Sloooop Maaasters!" Sloop came out marching to the center of the ring, a haughty grin accompanied by an elegant wave to the crowd on his way over.

The referee then held his hand to Team Rising Dragon's side. "Altering their formation for the first time in this match, introducing Team Rising Dragon’s First Specialist… Orooo Jacksooon!" With a bold, if not somewhat high-strung military march, the human wearing the odd pairing of military coat and rows of large gold armbands made his way to the center of the ring.

The referee stepped aside to let the competitors have their words. Sloop gestured to his opponent. “Hey there, Mister Jackson, it’s been a while since the last Core Metro socialite’s ball, though I haven’t been invited since I used the last of the McMasters fortune to set up my rather small business. Though even then I was doing way better than I am now. Strangely, I might be broke, but I feel richer now than I ever did before, now that I can spend every day surrounded by friends. Can you say the same?”

Oro’s expression remained rigid, but he made a series of almost mechanical gestures, extending his arm and holding his forearm across his chest, palm open. “Don’t taunt me, Mister Masters, we’re not close enough for that kind of banter. You know exactly how I feel about my family fortune, and I’m glad to be rid of it! Our ancestors’ petty rivalry means nothing to me, this fight is purely for the honor of the Mighty Six, the only family I accept!”

At this, Sloop made a cringy, lopsided smile and awkwardly looked away. “Goodness gracious, Oro! I was just trying to ease some unnecessary tension! No need to lay out all your baggage like that!”

The referee stepped forward and gestured at both competitors. “The commission and teams have both agreed to a traditional opening to this fight in regards to both competitors’ fighting styles, so both fighters take position and await the signal!” Accommodating this ruling, Sloop and Oro stood at attention and marched a distance precisely twenty paces away from one another, then turned around and stood at ready, crouching slightly, flexing their hands.

At the sight of this from the corner, Rarity gave Boros an inquisitive look. “Pardon moi, but what sort of… rustic human tradition are we seeing now?”

Disregarding the slightly contemptuous tone, Boros gestured to the ring. “You’ve seen Sloop’s weapons and fighting style, right? I don’t know what Oro’s weapons are, but apparently, they’re projectile-based like Sloop’s arrowguns. The duel of the quickdraw has been a part of humanity’s long and colorful history of conflicts for as long as we’ve figured out how to throw sharp pieces of wood and rock at each other. But words don’t do it justice, just watch and see…”

Back in the arena, a tension had built up in the air as both opponents stared one-another down. This feeling spilled over into the audience, who had gone silent, staring transfixed at the scene before them, sometimes with open mouths, their half-eaten snacks dripping onto the ground.

As the sun crept into the middle of the sky, the referee made a gesture with his off-hand and in a flash of colored light appeared a common alarm clock as he raised his main hand into the air. Though the clock was much too small for its distinctive sound to carry far, everyone present could swear they felt each tick and tock in their skull.

Abruptly, once the clock struck high noon, several things happened at once: When the alarm went off, the referee swung down his raised arm. Sloop materialized one of his bright-red arrowguns while Oro materialized a dark yellow crossbow-like apparatus onto his forearm, however, Sloop raised his weapon forward first and let fly a bolt of magic right into Oro’s chest. Oro staggered backwards, but he managed to awkwardly but firmly steady himself and maintain his footing. Regardless, the referee raised his hand and made his call. “Critical hit! Sloop, two! Oro, zero!”

Back in Sloop’s corner, Boros was giving a knowing look to Rarity, who was floundering with her words to fit what she’d just seen. “Why, I… I… I never…!”

Boros just smirked and pointed back into the ring with a snap of the fingers. “Stylish, am I right? But if we’re being honest here, that’s all it is, empty style. Nobody actually did that even before we went underground, at least not outside of pomp and ceremony. After a while, we started doing quick-draw duels as an opening act in pro duels between warriors with ranger fighting styles, especially since the very idea of them has pretty much captured the hearts and minds of the public.”

Back in the arena, the referee banished his alarm clock and motioned for both fighters to hold their positions. Then, he raised an arm. “Ready?” At this, both competitors materialized their weapon’s twin and stood at ready. The referee swung his arm down. “Fight!”

Both fighters took off, in the same direction, firing their weapons as quickly as they could. However, whereas Sloop could let loose a barrage from each of his weapons’ magazines, Oro could only fire at amore gingerly rate, letting loose one dark-yellow bolt at a time while having to cock and reload the weapon’s twin with a quick upward flex of the forearm all in a somewhat mechanical cycling motion.

After depleting his loaded ammunition, Sloop found himself retreating from the slow but continuous firing of his opponent, who chased close behind his own retreating opponent. However, with a wave of one of his depleted weapons, Sloop created a long, bright red arrow of energy pointing straight up and leapt into it, sending him somersaulting high into the air. Though he continued to trail his weapons at his opponent, Oro had ceased fire. By the time Sloop hit the ground, he pointed his fully-loaded weapons at his opponent, engaging another standoff.

Rarity looked upon this sight with an elegant expression of confusion. “Why did he stop? I’m rooting for Sloop, wasn’t he vulnerable?”

Boros shook his head and scratched his chin. “Oro’s weapons are just a little unconventional. They don’t exactly pack a wallop or have any accuracy at long ranges. But if he’s tempered them, then he can definitely use them as well as any top-class warrior can with their own weapon. Probably decided that it wasn’t worth wasting the effort to fire without a guaranteed hit.”

At this, Rarity turned to look at Boros with a flourish of her mane. “Does he not want to waste ammunition too? I never see any of you keep anything like that on your persons, do you make it with your magic?”

Boros looked like he was thinking for a moment, then he gestured to Rarity. “You know how we like to toss out the word ‘refined’ when it comes to magic? It’s actually a technique to use a spell in a way that uses insignificant concentration and magic consumption, not that much different from a natural ability. Obviously, you can’t use it for overly potent or sophisticated spells, but having a little extra utility at one’s disposal never hurt anyone.

“In the case of most rangers like Sloop and Oro, they materialize their magic in the form of a sort of empty construct that lacks the essence of their elements, essentially able to create a limitless supply of ammo. The methodology is a more developed version of an old technique from before we went to the cavern called cantrips or something.”

Back in the arena, both fighters, pointing their weapons at their opponent, slowly traced a circle in the arena. Suddenly, Oro abruptly flinched, making Sloop respond in turn in to strike a defensive pose. However, without missing a beat, Oro flowed into a new posture, flinging his arms fully extended, also sending out the outermost armbands glowing and expanding to float in midair and finishing this maneuver by sending his loaded bolts to disappear into the shimmering space within these rings.

Unbeknownst to Sloop, A pair of rings of solid light appeared directly behind him and out of them came flying the missing bolts, now enveloped in intense shrouds of golden energy which burst against his back and sent him (dramatically) plopping flat onto his front. The referee appeared nearby and made his call. “Knockdown! Sloop, two! Oro, Three!”

The referee had made his count to four until Sloop took a deep breath and pushed himself up by curling and springing with his legs in one clear and efficient movement. The referee motioned both competitors to hold their fire for a moment, making sure both were at the ready, and gestured for them to continue their bout.

Sloop, finally deciding to break all subtleties and extend both arrowguns, fronts angled parallel, pointing the intensely glowing barrels at his opponent. Oro quickly took a ready position, having released one glowing ring. However, the gong suddenly rang out, forcing Sloop to abruptly and inelegantly break off this action and the last possible moment.

Both competitors made snide looks at one another before turning around and making distinctive and overenthusiastic marches back to their corners.