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Beatrice was rather short, but she wore a suit and tie, that looked very out of place amongst the cultivator robes of her competitors. She had a short bob cut and a pair of glasses on. Kat’s excellent eyesight allowed her to see that these glasses didn’t actually have any frames in them. Her opponent was a mountain of a man, easily twice her height. It didn’t matter.

As soon as the starting whistle was blown, Beatrice rushed in with just her fists and started to systematically demolish the guy. She was too fast to be stopped, and made sure to break each of the poor man’s limbs as she went. She started by charging in, a move that was matched by the Mountain. They clashed in the centre, and Beatrice won by kicking Mountain hard on the elbow, shattering the joint.

Mountain reeled back in shock… but that was just more openings. Beatrice used that shock to break both of his kneecaps, forcing Mountain to collapse to the floor. He opened his mouth to forfeit but Beatrice broke his jaw with two well placed punches preventing that. Once he lacked the ability to forfeit she backed off, giving him just enough time to prove he could still stand. Probably had a concussion and didn’t realise that dropping the ground was much likely to get the match called. Much safter for him in the long run.

When he wobbled to his feet and had a chance to look around, Mountain realised he was in trouble and made his way to the edge. How he managed to walk with broken knees was a mystery Kat didn’t want answered. Perhaps they weren’t really broken… but the loud cracking sounds Beatrice had forced his body to make when they were struck implied pretty heavily that it was only his qi and willpower keeping him moving.

Before he could get to the edge, Beatrice kicked him in the forehead, sending him back towards the centre. He crashed onto the ground, bleeding from a number of places. He remained there, breathing heavily, and the announcer asked “Can you continue?”

Before he could answer though Beatrice kicked him in the side before stomping on his foot, likely breaking it in the process. With that bit of leverage she pulled him to his feet and then stomp both of his feet into the arena, pinning him upright with a bit of extra effort. Mountain was terribly done at this point and tried to collapse while standing. It was looked massively painful and didn’t even work…

The announcer called the match anyway. Technically Mountain could contest the ruling if he wanted to… but everyone in the arena doubted he would. He had lost spectacularly, and Beatrice was still in perfect form, without so much as a speck of dust on her clothes, or a single hair out of place.

“I wish Bing was here so I could ask how normal that is…” whispered Kat somewhat horrified.

.....

“I… I’m not sure? From what I know… and can tell… some people will think that he got what he deserved because this is a tournament and everyone has their own fighting styles… but that was particularly brutal. The fact he couldn’t forfeit was certainly the harshest part,” responded Sue.

“Let’s hope the next match is much cleaner,” grumbled Kat.

Kat would get her wish.

The next match also featured a man and a woman, one of them was Tess, the chiselled woman Sue thought had skin the colour of an eggplant. She was wearing a crop top and baggy pants, leaving her arms and abs on display. It was an impressive amount of muscles compared to her pears and she looked more than ready for a fight.

The man on the other hand, was human, and looked like he’d spent more time lifting books then lifting weights. He was reedy, and the robes he wore hung off him as if he’d picked sheets to wear instead of clothes. He wasn’t short by any means, but he was hunched over and seemed to small. He was leaning heavily on a metal staff and had a necklace of large beads about the size of an enclosed fists hanging off his neck. To the people watching, that seemed like a rather bad idea. They were quite large, and he did not wear them well.

His hair was perhaps the most pitiful part about him. It was thin and wispy with barely any colour to it… if grey could be called a colour. Kat was pretty sure he’d look better if he just manned up and shaved his head clean. Everything about him screamed pushover… except for his eyes. His eyes were a crystal-clear blue that seemed to hold a depth to them that belayed the rest of his appearance.

“Tess, the elven weapon, vs The Man with No Name… BEGIN!” shouted the announcer.

*What?! He has no name? That’s just annoying. I’m going to call him ‘Bob’.*

[Really Bob?]

*Well what else am I supposed to call him? He’s not got a name!*

[I mean… anything else?]

*Nope. If you want to call yourself ‘the man with no name’ you can have a generic name.*

[What about John Doe? I feel like that’s a bit nicer and it’s a bit of a reference to people who understand where the name comes from.]

*Lily this is just for naming him in my head, it doesn’t need to be complicated… but I guess I’ll go with John Doe. It’s not that big of a deal.*

Tess pulled a set of dual swords from her storage ring and charged, trailing ice under her feet as she ran forward. John simply took a few casual steps forward as if he was taking a pleasant stroll through the park. Tess’ attack seemed to come out of nowhere, as she split in two in between steps. An ice clone went left, and she went right, four blades all homing in on various vital areas of John’s body. He still didn’t look worried in the slightest, not even when the weapons made contact with his body.

Instead of the sound of metal on flesh, a pleasant chime rang out as Tess froze in place. John stepped backwards, around the weapons, and Tess continued to remain in place. John simply walked around behind Tess and then slammed the but of his staff into her head, sending her forward into the ice clones blades, “You lack discipline,” said John.

Tess’ eyes went wide but she dismissed the ice clone before the blades could make contact as she stumbled forward. John followed up his strike with a whack to the back of Tess’ knees, “You lack strength,” he taunted forcing her to drop into a roll to avoid just falling to the floor. When she popped back up John was there in front of her and slammed a headbutt into her nose.

Tess stumbled backwards, reeling from the strike and flailing her weapons wildly in front of her to get a bit of safety from a follow-up attack. John just placed a finger in the way of Tess’ weapon, freezing her in place and walking around behind her placing his staff across her neck and pulling tightly. Tess came back to the world being chocked. “Finally, you lack the desire to win,” taunted John.

Tess grit her teeth and tried to slam her head back into John, but he just moved off to the side. Seeing this, Tess tried to stab him but he shimmied out the way, just getting a small cut on his robes. Tess kept up her assault and managed to free herself by aiming at John’s thigh. “You talk too much,” growled Tess, using precious air to back-talk.

Which was a really bad idea when her follow up move was to breathe a large amount of snow out of her mouth. Tess just couldn’t keep it up for long, and John was able to weather the proverbial storm by standing there and taking it. When the storm dropped, Tess jumped back and used the chance to catch her breath. John simply walked forward slowly. Perhaps it was a limitation he had.

Tess bounced around, kiting John for a while as she recharged. John didn’t seem displeased with this behaviour, he just kept following Tess as she circled around the arena. The match stalled out here for a bit while this was happening. Eventually, Tess thought she saw an opening and dashed in, three ice clones this time.

John blocked the strikes from two, and took the strike from Tess, and one other clone before she tried to knee him in the balls. John took it without flinching then slammed his palm into Tess’ temple, dropping her like a sack of bricks.