As Applejack applied some ointment to the burned parts of Percival’s battle form and wrapped them up in bandages enchanted to accommodate whatever shape he took, Boros, like he had several times before, leaned closely into his protege and gave his consultation. “The nature of Russ’s magic might be simple, but that allows him to use it in an infinite number of ways. Whatever he puts together might look stupid or silly, but unless you can get to him directly they may as well be made of solid diamond.
“But your advantage is that your body is as pliable and adaptive as the magic any other elemental warrior can wield. He’s not the first warrior who relies on bizarre gimmicks to confuse and keep his opponents guessing, but like you did before, the best way to counteract such things is to turn them against their users.
“Remember though, he’s not a predictable fighting machine, he’s as human as you are. Don’t act like he can’t take what you try to do to him and turn it against you. And above all else, remember that it’s when you go in for the final blow that you’re at your most vulnerable.”
At that final notion, Percival could only bob his unusual head before getting up and marching back to the arena. Both fighters took their positions. The referee raised an arm “Ready?” Percival extended his arms to summon his focuses to his sides while Russ raised his arms for his kanabo to appear in his grip. The referee swung down his arm. “Fight!”
Once again, Russ scrambled away towards the edge of the ring with a surprising quickness. Yet again, Percival stood at ready, but made no attempt to pursue. At that, Applejack turned towards Boros with a curious, if not judgemental, expression. “Now, can you tell me why Percival ain’t chasin’ Russ for free points?”
At this, Boros merely scoffed and made a lackadaisical gesture to the ring. “I told him he had the right idea with turning what his opponent puts together against them, didn’t I? How can he do that if he doesn’t let his opponent do so? The art of warfare is the art of deception, like it or not. Make your opponent think you’re unable, make them come to you on your terms, and bam!”
He wasn’t expecting such a sour expression from the rugged mare, so he opted for another perspective on the matter. “If it makes you feel better about it, then try to look at the whole idea in terms of risk against reward. If you’ve been watching this whole competition, you should know that there’s risk in every play. Where one can see the ending blow, the opponent can see something to exploit.
“But this is still just a competition, and only that. In a real battle, to lose can be to die, you no longer have any say in your own fate. After that, there are SO many ways that death would be a blessing. The fact of the matter is that you can’t be a warrior if you can’t take that chance, to gamble with your life. Warriors die, and warriors suffer, but that’s how it always is to live a life that truly matters: A life that can make a difference.” At that, even stoic Applejack could only gape in awe.
Back in the ring, Russ confidently revealed the next thing he jury-rigged: A long, cylindrical cloth bellows with an oversized pair of pointy-tipped scissors at the end with a simple overlapping hinge joint mechanism to operate it. Unlike before, this construct was attached to the end of his club like the phoenix feather.
Russ dashed back towards his opponent, and when he was at a less considerable distance away, he sent out his weapon’s augmentation extending ahead of him with an overhead swing like he was casting a fishing rod. Percival was able to sidestep this thrust-like attack, wary of the snapping pair of blades. After his construct retracted, Russ followed up this attack with several more strikes, Percival sidestepping each one and ducking then jumping after Russ changed up his attacks with a few horizontal swipes
After a few more dodges, Percival stood fast and reached out to the mechanism and caught its oncoming attack in an enlarged hand. A yellow light rapidly traveled down the object, turning the whole thing to a solid pale pink color as it seemed to stretch much more elastically as Percival pulled on it. After a brief look of surprise, Russ grit his teeth as he pulled against Percival by his club’s handle.
This went on for a moment, Percival wrenching back his prize with Russ matching his strength in a tug-of-war. When Russ’s thick arms were bulging and his face turning a shade of pink similar to the construct, Percival suddenly released it, the snapback combined with the release of resistance to his pull sending him flying back in a spin before hitting the ground on his gut, the construct popping off and falling to pieces after turning back to normal.
The referee appeared and made his call. “Knockdown! Russ, three! Percival, eight!” The referee started his count, but he made it to four when Russ quickly hopped to his feet, brushing the dust from his leather apron.
When the referee gave the signal to resume the fight, Russ furrowed his brow and extended his club. Then, extending his free hand, materialized a number of different objects appearing with the same brown marbled pattern his previous emanations were made of, which quickly assembled into two constructs: What looked like a smaller, streamlined derby cart which he quickly hopped into and a long chain with one end he quickly attached to the end of his kanabo and the other hooked up to what looked like a sphere who’s two halves were locked together in two rows of what looked like gear teeth.
With a maniacal laughter, he took off in the cart at an incredible speed swinging around his new weapon extension. Percival was forced to brace himself, as Russ raced around the ring making several passes at him. With one last dash, he finally swung his weapon at Percival with his next pass. Percival turned one of his hands into a large, fully-covering shield, but was sent flying onto his back as the sphere exploded on contact. Russ came around in a drift and stopped as the referee appeared between them and made his call. “Knockdown! Russ, six! Percival, eight!”
At that sudden turn of events, Applejack was left pulling at her face with her hooves. “What in Celestia’s name…! I… I dadgum can’t even think of any words! What was that about?”
Even Boros was impressed by the display he’d just seen. “I guess he has a spell to register things to create duplicates with as constructs. And looks like he’s not limited to ordinary objects if that reusable bomb is any indication. Of course, he wouldn’t have saved it until now if there wasn’t something about ability compared to the stuff he used earlier that he didn’t want exploited…”
The referee gave both fighters the signal to continue, coincidentally allowing the reusable bomb duplicate construct enough time to reset, the hole-covered tube serving as the core being covered by the interlocking halves of the sphere sliding back into place. After Russ raced off towards the edge of the ring, employing what appeared to be a hit and run strategy, swinging around his jury-rigged flail as he made several passes at Percival, forcing him to awkwardly dodge hither and about. Russ then made a direct charge at Percival, swinging his flail. Percival stood at ready, but Russ revealed his feint as he drew back his flail, catching Percival off-guard as he sent him flying by ramming him with his cart.
Percival managed to catch himself yet again by expanding his hands and setting himself down on his feet, but the damage was done as the referee appeared next to him and made his call. “Critical hit! Russ, eight! Percival, eight!”
As Russ raced away with the declaration to continue the fight, Percival closed his eye holes and took a relaxed position for a moment. He then deliberately extended an arm forward, and with an extension of his fingers summoned one of his focuses to the back of his hand, point forward. With the clutching of his fist, the focus was suddenly enveloped in a very familiar orange light which quickly extended forward about the same length as Percival’s forearm.
Back in Percival’s corner, Applejack gasped and held her hoof up to her mouth. “My stars! Is that…”
Boros made a big grin and nodded. “Kris’s sword magic. It was something Percival discovered not long after attuning to his weapon: Using the connection he had to his focuses as an intermediary, he can transform the empty, null element magic enchanting it into a basic form of true elemental magic, any he has a profound understanding of.
“Natural elements aren’t so hard to understand, more often than not, what you see is what you get. But a highly specialized element like Kris’s would take observing it used many different ways on a regular basis for a very long time, to which he owes his apprenticeship to the old guild.”
Russ narrowed his eyes at this development, but revved his engine regardless and took off, swinging his flail. At that, Percival charged forward to meet this assault. He slinked to avoid a direct impact with the bomb, and after getting in striking distance with Russ, made his arm perform some whiplike motions to make an elaborate chain of slashes, dispelling all of Russ’s constructs into several puffs of brown vapor.
Russ was sent flying, carried by his own momentum. However, his focus wasn’t diminished. He found enough purchase to dispel his kanabo and make an elaborate series of motions with his arms. With a flip, he managed to plant himself firmly on his feet, then with a swing of his arm sent out several marbled brown constructs resembling oversized staples. Still recovering from his mighty attack, Percival was carried towards the wall and found himself pinned down in an awkward, visibly uncomfortable position.
The referee appeared next to Percival and made his call. “That’s a pin! One… Two… Three! It’s over! Pin K.O.!”
Back in Percival’s corner, Applejack made a sad expression at Boros. “I don’t get it! Why didn’t he take his chance to slip out of that trap?”
Boros shook his head. “Meta magic, I bet. Not so hard to take even a duplication construct spell and imbue it with the properties of a basic magic binding abjuration restraining spell.”
After making some glad motions towards the crowd as the referee raised his arm, Russ hurried over to his defeated opponent and with a simple gesture released him by making the constructs disappear in puffs of vapor. As Percival steadied himself and turned around. Russ just stared at him for a moment and gently extended his open hand. Percival went rigid for a brief moment, then the expression in his eye holes softened before he took his opponent’s hand and shook.
At this display, Applejack smiled and took off her own hat in respect, holding it close to her heart. She gave a look to Boros, who made a big grin and held out a thumbs-up to the equine corner-girl.