Shadow Slave: Riftwalker

Author's Note: 

- I will be changing up the writing style a little bit for this chapter. This is because I have read other Shadow Slave fanfics and really enjoyed a certain writing style I saw. If you dislike the change or like the change, please tell me!

- Also, I'm debating over making this an entirely different universe rather than the original. For example, different dream realm locations, different people, different Sovereigns, etc. I feel like people would enjoy originality, but I also feel like most people want to see Sunny and the cohort. So also leave a comment on your opinion! Me personally, I can do either because I already have plans for both.

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"..." The stadium fell silent, as if expressing 'Damnation' with their faces. From a quick scan of the audience, Aeona noticed the jaw of each individual dropped. Even with the Master above, he still seemed mildly surprised.

Of course, the essence of combat was survival, and a single mistake could determine life or death. All Awakened knew that, and most would come up with fail-safes for if something went wrong. For example, a movement to create distance between the enemy, a method of getting back to one's feet, or even a trump card to catch somebody off guard.

In the end, the centaur had no fail-safe or was too distracted by pain to use it.

"Well would you look at that, folks!? The reigning champion of the last event lost his life! What an unexpected finish!" He shouted, fishing for reactions from the crowd. "What does this mean for the future of this tournament? Will the Glad-Marked Dragoon fight as well without the motivation of a rematch, or will she be enraged by the fall of her rival!?"

Aeona chuckled inwardly, "Enraged? More like enthralled..." Her Nightmare—or at least her goal had increased in difficulty, and while this would prove to be a drag, it was also a source of excitement. She recalled something from the beginning of her trial, when she was pushed, threatened, and shoved through that 'royalty hallway'. There was an open room behind, one with a statue in the center. This statue, while she didn't quite remember the contents of it, wasn't as large as the trio beside the castle.

It was constructed with fine, reflective glass, and its details were difficult to make out. When looking towards the... face for example, one would see the reflection of the ceiling, which was a darker shade of gray. When looking at the body, one could see themselves. In fact, earlier, when she took a gander at the statue, she spotted herself and the three men around her.

Fine specifics aside, this sparked an idea for Aeona. The three tall allow statues appeared to represent different endings. 'Holy' was likely a representation of winning—or taking first place in the tournament. 'Cursed' was likely a representation of losing—or dying during the tournament. 'Warrior', while she wasn't quite sure, likely represented an alternate ending. For example, escaping the Pristine Colosseum and living a life somewhere into the far expanse of the First Nightmare.

This allowed for another addition, the glass statue from within the castle. This could—theoretically follow the same scripture. An ending being manifested through a sculpture, and one that Aeona could potentially achieve. 

It's a little frustrating... She mused. Her intellect could only bring her so far, and most of what she thought were from backed—but not confirmed—assumptions. The statues could represent something else entirely. They could be normal statues for all she knew! What led her to this conclusion in the first place was from before the Nightmare started, how she was shown the statues beside the castle and the colosseum.

If the Nightmare was purely the tournament, why even show me?

"Well, now that we have taken a moment to appreciate the Muscle Freak's triumph, why don't we move onto the next match! The one between the Grounded Counter and the Glad-Marked Dragoon, or as the crowd has renamed, Battle Maiden!"

Aeona's ears perked at the title. It was her Aspects name, and while it could be coincidence, she assumed either fate or the Spell was the culprit.

"The Battle Maiden, in her most recent match displayed her ruthless personality! Not only did she win her battle, but she did so with brutality, low effort, and a display of dominance beforehand! Now, when faced with a stronger opponent—one higher in bids than herself—will the result be the same!?" He echoed, somehow enhancing his voice like before. 

This guy really enjoys dragging his words... This is the longest intermission between matches.

"The Grounded Counter is known for his balance, patience, and countering potential! He's able to turn the tide in matches strictly through the other gladiator's mistakes!" He took a breather and rose both arms upwards, as if embracing the world around him. "Now lower the gates, because ladies and gentlemen, this battle... will be fought for glory!"

"Glory! Glory! Glory!"

For Spells sake, shut up...

The familiar sound of rusted metal clanking against itself and mechanisms operating flooded her ears as her view of the battlefield became less obscured. This was her last chance at a memory, and given that the battle would prove more difficult, her chances weren't that bad.

Stepping through the gravelly wood, she approached the center where her opponent mirrored her actions. Before the Ascended began his pre-match speech, the two analyzed each other, taking in as much information as possible.

Aeona noticed how the man walked. He presented confidence, while also holding a tough guard. He circled around the center, so Aeona did the same. The Grounded Counter was shorter than her, but certainly not smaller. He had toned muscles as well as sharp fingernails, actually, they looked manually sharpened. 

Gotta look out for scratching... She noted.

His breathing was even, he maintained a steady stance, and his laser-focused vision locked onto Aeona's face. She wanted to poke fun at him, saying: 'Am I really that pretty?', but she figured it wasn't the time.

"Three!

"Two!

"One!"

And the match began, the Grounded Counter keeping his expression motionless. Aeona, on the other hand closed the distance, but only a little. The two were a few meters away from each other but could close the distance if they wanted. 

Her opponent was known for counter attacks and blocks, so she would be at most advantageous on the defense. She was unnaturally strong due to her aspect, and from experimentation in her station, could roughly run two to three times the average speed of a human—mundane of course. Her opponent had no significant agility compared to your average pedestrian, which meant she would win a speed battle.

Poking his reactions, she closed the distance with her speed. Before attacking, she backed away once again—albeit being meter or two closer than before. 

He lowered himself, likely with the goal of using my speed to throw my core of balance... This makes him a tactical martial artist.

She chuckled, Ironic, given that his last opponent was one as well. Unfortunately, her chuckle triggered a nerve in the Grounded Counter which spun the fight into motion. 

He stepped closer, leaving her a meter of breathing room before lowering himself to sweep her legs. Anticipating this, she pivoted in the same direction as the kick. Without the proper momentum, the sweep was proven as useless, but the challenger wasn't finished yet. He continued the sweep into an odd breakdance move before hand-standing and striking Aeona with the ball of his foot.

Thats... fucking ridiculous! She fell back, gritting her teeth and taking a breather. Okay, so his fighting style is flowy, where misses turn into other attacks. This just means that I should resort to blocks instead. I'm physically stronger anyways... This time, taking the initiative, she charged at the opposing gladiator, but kept her limbs silent. She strategically awaited an anticipation-block from him, giving herself the opportunity for a counter.

As he rose his elbow for a right-handed block, she brought her right knee up for a front-kick. With quick reflexes, he adjusted his previous block to guide her leg away. Unfortunately, her kick was a feign and her hip position adjusted, sending her into a—flaunting—but strategic 360-degree rotation.

This rotation formed itself into a tornado kick aimed at the man's liver. From experience, she learned that liver-shots would inflict intense pain for extended periods. While she hadn't expected the Grounded Counter to be out of it for a while, it would give her time to collect herself. Unluckily...

Thud!

...she wouldn't be given that time...

...as her attack was blocked, and her opponent had her leg in a lock.

Oh... Shit!

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