The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 227 - A Dozen Dreams Of Victory, A Thousand Ways To Lose

Chapter 227: Chapter 227 - A Dozen Dreams Of Victory, A Thousand Ways To Lose

Voices from the growing crowd seemed to press in from all sides as the twelve quarter-finalists gathered near the central field. The other competitors had been dismissed from the duel tournament, leaving only those who had proven themselves worthy of continuing.

The atmosphere held a different weight than yesterday’s morning matches. Gone were the simple proving grounds - now each of the three fields had been meticulously prepared for new displays of martial excellence. Fresh sand covered the fighting circles, newly leveled and packed.

The scaffolding for the judges had been decorated with even more festive displays. Most particularly, each held painted replica representations of the sorts of weapons the competitors would be using in the coming fights.

Qat studied her fellow competitors as they waited for the round robin matches to begin. Four from each region, each bringing their own interpretation of martial excellence. Three of them hailed from The Ironclad Order. Herself, Navuill, and a war hammer wielder that stood stoically apart.

Then there was the unguilded cultivator - an unconventional underdog that had surprising success with a meteor hammer. The young man seemed to vibrate with barely contained enthusiasm. He hadn’t expected to perform to this level!

’To think Aleck is actually a name on people’s lips today for good reasons!’

Navuill’s Astralism watched that excitement with both anticipation and calculation. It was the fight he was most wary about. Both because of how the elders would criticize if he lost and purely from his own idea of how the fight would go.

The fragment in Qat’s chest warmed briefly - Elua was letting her know she was watching despite being occupied elsewhere once again. Her success at helping the injured cultivator had only made her ’more important’ to keep waiting on hand with the medics. The swordswoman touched the ribbon tied at her sword hilt before focusing back on the present.

The even official voice carried across the grounds as he explained the format. Six matches per region, so that every person faced the other once, would determine their semi-finalists. No time limits. No restrictions beyond those already established. Simply battle until one fighter reached three points or forced their opponent to yield.

The crowd’s murmuring grew as lots were drawn to determine the first matchups. When Qat’s name was called against the meteor hammer user, she felt a ripple of interest run through the spectators. That cultivator had drawn lots of betting attention with their unconventional style.

As she moved to take her position, she caught fragments of conversation from the crowd - speculation about winners, techniques, the tight spread of Guild affiliations on display in each region, and the ever-present political undertones.

Those came with any Yecine heir’s public appearance... but the same could be said for those bigger families in the other regions. None of it mattered. The weight of her practice blade felt right in her hands as she retrieved it and stored her gifted blade.

She had learned from watching and participating in the preliminary matches. Now it was time to prove it. The meteor hammer’s smooth weighted end began to spin when the signal for their fight was launched. Both competitors only watched each other for a number of seconds.

The weapon then whirled past where Qat’s head had been moments before. She stepped swiftly inside its arc, large blunt blade angling for what should have been an easy point - only to find her opponent using the chain itself to wrap and redirect her strike.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she was forced to retreat from the returning ’projectile’. The swordswoman studied how the unconventional cultivator used the weapon’s flexibility. The chain didn’t just extend their reach, it created zones where blocking became unpredictable.

A point was scored against her when the weighted end struck her shoulder from an angle she hadn’t anticipated. She had struck the chain to deflect its angle but Aleck had rapidly pulled against it immediately after. Her spirit rippled with recognition - this was similar to how Elua used to toss those beanbags during their early training.

But the chain added some elements she hadn’t faced before. It was something to study. Something to learn how to face.

The second point came after she thought she had the timing down. The opponent cultivator let the head drop, then used the chain’s momentum to flick and bring it up under her guard. She couldn’t help but appreciate the ingenuity even as she adjusted her stance when they returned to a starting position.

"You have a very interesting style of fighting."

Her low voice carried authentic praise. The next exchange saw the flat of her blade sliding along the chain itself quicker than Aleck could respond. She used its own weight and the pull from the blunt spherical end to create an opening that risked disarming those with less fluid control of their strength.

A point was scored. 1-2.

Two more points followed in quick succession as she learned enough of the patterns. The weapon was very versatile but had its own rules and limitations. Its own methods and timings. Once she understood them, countering became more straightforward.

Her final point came from deliberately deflecting the head up high into the air, then dashing through before Aleck could recover and pull the chain down in her path. When they bowed after her 3-2 victory, she could sense both respect and determination in her opponent’s spirit.

Having experienced the level of skill, she was sure there was a good chance it wouldn’t be their last meeting. Navuill waited for her at the edge of the field, his own match against the war hammer defender scheduled next. His spirit carried none of the tension she might have expected about her performance, even given the elders’ clear preference for his more aggressive style.

"That was educational to watch."

"The chain creates some interesting problems. Have you faced similar weapons before?"

He shook his head. He’d already tried analyzing how he would approach it, but didn’t think he could perform as well as Qatrand had. They discussed a few options briefly before he had to prepare for his own match.

A splash of ’smug’ attention made the Yecine suddenly smile. She had a feeling her wife would have suggestions about dealing with flexible weapons next time they spoke. Though whether they would get that opportunity before she faced the meteor hammer user again...

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

"The heir seems to favor a more... contemplative approach these days."

The Yecine elder’s tone seemed neutral enough as he addressed Anper. They watched Qatrand observe the ongoing match between Navuill and the war hammer wielder. The two fighting were from the same cohort and had joined The Ironclad Order at roughly the same time.

It was clear to the father that, even now, his ’disappointment’ focused on analyzing both of their techniques. That was fine enough as a bystander, but to do it in the middle of a match she was engaged in? It was a quality he had despised in his offspring ever since her Arena Trial.

"Traditional methods have served our family well. Confidence in our techniques and power."

Anper’s clipped response didn’t fully mask his displeasure. Being reminded of that family ritual and how his co-conspirators had used it to further undermine his control of her training was just unpleasant! His gaze shifted between his child and his nephew, noting how the latter’s aggressive style in the ring aligned more closely with their expectations.

A younger elder leaned forward on the railing as Navuill pressed his advantage against the defender’s guard. The war hammer user gave ground steadily but methodically. The young man’s spirit remained calm despite the pressure, but he was unlikely to rally and score a point at this rate.

"At least the boy out there shows proper Yecine spirit."

"Indeed."

The word carried weight beyond simple agreement. They all understood the implications - that perhaps Navuill might prove a more suitable heir if Qat continued to deviate from their prescribed path. It was something brought up before and something Anper wished would come true.

’There is no place for a woman in control of our future. If there was, then hundreds of years would not have gone by without a change.’

He looked to the side at Lirades, standing far too close to his young boys. Their fingers twitched into motions as if they were holding their weapons and a snort of approval came before he tore his eyes away. He had wanted to send them away, but the value of seeing all of these cultivators fighting for the top and working together for all was too high.

The Yecine father didn’t bother to contemplate that men like him, who pushed aside the slightest attempts for them to rise, were the reason why their female cultivators were forced to stay in the shadows and serve the roles of political tools.

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

An ’annoyed’ ripple joined her spirit as Qat sensed their scrutiny. Apparently her wife was eavesdropping. Even knowing that, she kept her focus on the match.

The swordswoman noted how the defender used position and leverage to minimize the effectiveness of raw power. While some of that came from having a weapon with a long haft, there were elements she could see adapting to her own style just like she had from the glaive wielder.

Her cousin’s victory ultimately came through that overwhelming force rather than tactical finesse. A point from eventual ring out and two from taking advantage of failures to land a strike. The elders’ likely approval for the showing didn’t mean much to either of them.

When Navuill joined her to watch Aleck face the very defensive hammer fighter, their quiet discussion focused on what they had each learned. Neither mentioned the political undercurrents or what had been discussed months ago, even if both were acutely aware of it. Navuill more than her, having been spoken to more than once yesterday while his cousin was visiting the Goltbred camp.

"I grew up at the Youth Guild with him, but he sure recovers well nowadays from being pushed back."

"He does. Makes you wonder if it’s worth the energy to force them to retreat. Punishing his misses worked much better."

The implicit critique of the traditional Yecine approach hung between them. The Empath let his spirit flit with some ’amusement’.

"Some might say that’s an unconventional observation. To wait in a fight instead of push forward and win quickly."

"Some might say a lot of things. It’s up to us to judge their value."

They shared a knowing look before returning their attention to the match. The meteor hammer’s user was finding their own challenge in dealing with the defender’s steady style. The Ironclad Order member was adept at trapping the chain and putting them in a bit of stalemate.

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

Wrapped in illusions, pretending to doze in her ’special seat’ arranged by the medical profession flatterers trying to learn her secrets or gain a connection, Elua turned her gaze. Back in the Yecine viewing area, she watched Anper’s fingers tighten on the rail. He clearly was watching his child and nephew interact.

’How unhappy over it you are. Should she not get along with any of her biological family?’

The easy camaraderie between them complicated certain contingencies. Both for Anper er Yecine... and for Elua er Goltbred.