The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 218 - Tournament Talk Always Gets Me Hot And Bothered, Too

Chapter 218: Chapter 218 - Tournament Talk Always Gets Me Hot And Bothered, Too

Ripples of sound gradually came from other tents and signaled the camp coming to life. Qat completed her warm-up forms before the other four Yecine competitors were even halfway through. After that, the teenager began the familiar routine of checking her blade.

The heavy sword had been a constant companion through countless training sessions. An extension of herself worn - and infrequently used - in a large number of missions. Her fingers traced the edge... still perfectly honed from yesterday’s maintenance.

The weapon’s weight felt natural in her grip as she tested a few cuts through the air. Shorter weapons might allow faster combinations of attacks, but she had learned to make every movement count. Fighting with a heavier blade meant committing fully to each strike.

Her chest caught another directed push of ’pride’ from somewhere distant. Her mint-drop was still paying attention.

’I wish she would go take a nap or eat instead.’

She allowed herself a smile while settling into her opening stance. Soon she would face opponents with different weapons and styles. Her Yecine training had prepared her for the variety, but theory and practice were different things.

A spear user’s reach or a small blade’s swiftness would test her. Or at least, it would prove difficult if she relied only on her family methods. Her chest warmed with ’anticipation’ as she stepped through a complex defensive sequence.

One that softly integrated the things she had learned from practicing with her El. Qatrand had proven herself capable in the traditional style and in adapting it. She decided she would earn her placement here today.

’Or I will learn where I am lacking.’

Her next swing carried rather perfect form despite her wandering thoughts. The raven-haired swordswoman would face each match as it came. Each cultivator in her path would talk about it into the future.

That they had been faced with the same dedication and seriousness that had brought her so far.

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

A sandy-haired boy fidgeted with his sleeve while their group walked. All their expensive clothes from yesterday had been carefully packed away again. However, their master had *insisted* they keep wearing ’fresher feeling’ attire through the events of each day.

Which was a fancy way of saying that she had bought them more than one set of outfits. The teenager was glad these were not quite so formal... but they also felt too luxurious. Even Nohre’s steps beside him faltered slightly as she adjusted her dress.

The girl still wasn’t used to the way fabric could catch around her legs when she moved too quickly. What was wrong with shorts or pants?! She also had her hair back in her usual braids... not liking all the looks she had gotten from people yesterday with the updo.

"The regional brackets are probably already posted. We should be able to find good seats if we hurry."

Her green eyes narrowed at his eager tone. It had also been his idea to not rely on the nice Goltbred viewing area today.

"You seem to know a lot about how this works. Is that why we aren’t going to sit with them today?"

"Of course not. I just read about previous competitions while researching in the Void Defense Society library back in the city. They always start with separate brackets for each region and..."

Fusand trailed off as his childhood friend’s stare grew more pointed. The sort of look that let him know he was talking too fast and too excited. He cleared his throat and started over.

"The first matches are usually quick. They group fighters by region initially. That way in the finals the best from each go head-to-head."

The explanation drew a nod from Nohre. She remembered their master mentioning something about the ’practical politics’ of the competition during one of their lessons. If the goal was the ideology of showing only the absolute best, then separating by region wouldn’t matter.

However, if the goal was to be ’fair’, then there was no need to make them compete in the first place. The Goltbred spoke of how they could just find the best from each region and it would all be equal... in theory.

’Would a cultivator try so hard if they can’t prove they are the strongest? I still don’t know the answer to that, but I’m guessing she wanted to imply they would not.’

"Since there are three towers, they’ll probably have three dueling grounds as well?"

"Four actually. There is an extra one for settling ties or handling other delays. Though I read-"

A familiar smirk crossed her face and he caught himself starting to ramble about historical details again. The boy’s ears colored slightly while he focused on smoothing nonexistent imperfections out of his new clothing. She softened her slight teasing and gestured for him to go on.

"In the past they would have had six grounds prepared. It was more efficient for processing all the matches. But they changed it because too many young cultivators were getting worn out from the constant noise and spiritual pressure of battles."

Nohre appreciated it when he shared practical details instead of just historical trivia. She caught onto the term he used and decided to ask more.

"Pressure? You mean the intent of the fighters, right?"

"Correct. Some of the more sensitive Enchanters couldn’t even focus properly by their third match. That’s why they spread things out more now."

A simple projection that very, very crudely represented the towers and competition venue floated over the topside of his palm.

"Both the design of the field and the additional rest time between matches lets people recover from it better. It does make the whole event take longer, but our society grew used to treating most of the month ahead of the Descent into a sort of festival."

The teenage girl gestured toward the growing crowd ahead of them and what she could see above their heads.

"Isn’t that also why they’re setting up those things? To contain the spiritual pressure?"

She referred to a sort of wooden scaffolding lined with sigils that were being placed around the actual duel circles.

"Yes, but that is more about reducing the minor effect on mental state that extended proximity has on mortals. They also serve to help judges track the scoring."

His hands moved to accompany his elaboration. His voice was full of scholarly enthusiasm that sometimes made him awkward around others at the orphanage.

Yet, it felt natural when explaining things to her. She had always listened and waited until *after* he was done to tell him he had gotten out of hand once again. He really appreciated both sides of it.

"The posts are arranged to create overlapping fields. That way if two people claim they struck at the same moment or if someone tries to pretend they weren’t hit, the three judges per field can come to a consensus."

They passed several cultivators still doing a bit of preparation. Some worked through weapon forms while others meditated to steady their spirit. Fusand noted how different regions seemed to favor particular preparation methods.

"Look there - they always start with calisthenics before touching their weapons. Elua said it’s because the last hero from their region made a big deal about the advantages."

Nohre nodded while keeping her eyes on the growing crowd ahead. More of the competitors were gathering near where the brackets would be posted soon. Some carried weapons she had never seen used in their region.

"Do you see that set of curved blades?"

"Ah, that’s probably from outside the continent. Maybe those nobles she told us to watch out for are sponsoring someone."

His tone shifted as he gestured toward a group of spear users chatting about techniques they would use against the strange paired weapons if they encountered them later in the duels.

"The first rounds usually match the same weight class. It lets them judge pure skill before throwing in the complexity of different reaches and styles. All those people there will probably be matched against some of each other soon."

His Physique’s influence on his pigment sometimes showed more when he got excited about explaining things. Nohre understood that intellectually... and that the mudder color around his cheeks had nothing to do with any of the female fighters.

But she still kind of wanted to kick the back of his leg anyway.

She resolved to ask her master about the feeling... as she wasn’t sure if Zyris would understand. The heiress seemed to always be sweet with the husband she was infatuated with, but the teenager with braided hair had experienced for herself that there was more to the Goltbred eldest daughter than met the eye.

"See how they’re arranging the practice areas? Heavy weapons to the left, medium at the center, light on right."

Nohre eyed the curved blade user again as she moved toward the rightmost section. The woman felt different from that region’s other practitioners - more like a coiled spring than flowing water. The young cultivator somehow had a feeling they wouldn’t get along.

"I wonder if master’s partner will face any of the other heavy blade users early. There aren’t as many of them outside of his family."

"It’s possible. Though there are large hammers, axes, and heavy polearms out there too. Later rounds are where it gets interesting - watching someone with a greatsword fighting a medium weight spear or quick daggers."

His hands again gestured in the air as he spoke, temporarily forgetting his usual self-consciousness in crowds. There was something freeing about sharing his opinion and knowledge with someone who genuinely wanted to learn rather than just humoring him.

’And even if she is just humoring me, she does it with more... more...’

The brown tinge on his skin deepened as he skated around thinking of it as ’love’. This caused a set of green eyes to squint at him and then at that woman with the curved swords once more.

Whether her feelings about the woman were right or wrong... only time would tell.