Garden Of The Abyss

"Alrighty, folks! After a rousing battle to start off the day, let's move on to the very next match of the first round! Remember--this is a battle for the privilege of entering the third floor directly! For these competitors, it may as well be a pile of gold to them!"

With this announcement, the roars of the excited mixture of demons and other inhumans in the stands filled the ears of any unlucky enough to be close by.

Even Andraste took an interest to this news, looking towards the window as he opened one ear to the following announcement.

"From the left, Kikomori! From the right, Fedrin! Both competitors--please make your way to the arena now!"

Kikomori...that's him; that creepy guy from the prelims...Ren thought.

"What's up, Ren? You know one of those guys?"

With his elbow leaned up against the sill of the viewing window, Jae-Seong pushed his glasses up with the tips of his fingers as he looked down at the white-haired, fellow otherworlder with a smile.

Snoring behind them, laid out across the bench that could barely fit his body, Hongse was fast asleep after his exhausting battle.

Nodding his head slowly, Ren reeled in a perplexed look from the short, young girl beside him, "He tried attacking my group in the preliminary round...pretty sure he was going for the kill. He's a slippery bastard, that's for sure."

Not a moment after having said this, Ren turned around in unison with the others to witness the overly-extravagant, sable door leading to room be opened--in coming the one called Fedrin.

It wasn't the first elven person Ren had encountered in this world, but it was certainly a rarity. Holding a stoic expression, the man wearing pale white robes that were tightened by bits of black leather armor moved towards the tunnel without any wasting of time.

"Hey."

Stopping the black-haired elf in his path, Ren casually called out to the man, earning his attention as his inhuman eyes that held an aura of wisdom befell the white-haired young man.

"Yes?"

Having stopped in place for a moment, the man rested the end of his staff onto the pristine, quartz flooring; it stood nearly as tall as the wielder himself, made of a meticulously carved wooden material that bore a heavenly white shade with an orb that swayed between a few shades was embedded into the circular, top portion of the staff.

"Be careful--that guy is tricky. I don't know exactly what he did, but he managed to slip through solid ground when I had an encounter with him."

Telling this to the man he had never met until just a moment prior, the serious look in Ren's hazel eyes was investigated by the elf's amethyst irises before he finally nodded his head.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Without any further delay, Fedrin traversed the somewhat lengthy hall before finding himself in the bowels of the vast arena.

"You sure that's a good idea? I mean, giving that guy that advice?"

Leaned against the pale wall, Jae-Seong's glasses slid down a bit as he looked at Ren with his vibrant, golden irises that possessed an odd, circular rim around them. It was the first time getting a good look at the man's eyes, but Ren simply smiled in return of the question.

"...It might not be the brightest idea if that guy ends up being powerful, but I kind of just want Kikomori to get his ass kicked."

"Ha-ha! That's as good a reason as any, my friend!"

Getting a rise from that unexpected answer, the curly-haired otherworlder laughed as he leaned against the sill with his arms protected by his coat as white as the arctic snow.

"By the way, do any of you know who you're fighting? I didn't get a look at the bracket, unfortunately…"

Asking this, Ren looked between Aiko, Jae-Seong, and Ju-Long. There were two other present competitors in the room, but they definitely were not the sort of people Ren felt comfortable suddenly approaching.

The old man wearing shaggy, stained robes with a prominent beard that was almost as lengthy as him, remained quietly seated on a bench with his face obscured by the shadows of his hood. All the same, the wolven demi-human brooded in the corner of the room with his eyes closed--every so often clicking his tongue at the constant chattering from Ren's group.

"Well, urr, I waited for you--so I missed my chance as well…"

Answering his question, Aiko rubbed her gauntlet-clad hand across her short, beige hair before fiddling with the crimson streaks present in her locks. Hearing this, Ren immediately stiffened as a bit of guilt washed over him.

"I'm sorry…"

Bowing his head in apology, the action was quickly dissuaded as Aiko fervently waved her hands, assuring him it was okay.

On the other hand, Jae-Seong had an idea of who he was up against, "It seems I got matched against Arsya. Mm...if I remember correctly, he was the representative of Derjun, I think."

You don't remember!? Just how casual are you about this whole thing? Ren thought.

Finally turning to the towering man who embodied the idea of a gentle giant, Ren looked at Ju-Long who was searching his brain for the name as he massaged his chin, which had gathered a bit of a stubble.

"It was a girl, that's about all I remember."

"A girl, huh…?"

Hearing this, Ren felt a slight drop of his stomach as his eyes peered at the distant tunnel on the other side of the arena.

That is pretty likely to mean Iris or Valerie, isn't it…? This guy seems ridiculously strong, he thought.

Any further conversation was completely subdued by the overwhelming voice of the announcer, "All right--both competitors are set, bets are in, and I'm dying to see this clash! Are you with me!?"

Stirring up the crowd, Asmodeus' question reeled in a storm of cheers and roars, vibrating the foundation of the immense arena.

"These guys really love this tournament, don't they?..."

Ren muttered with a wry smile at the tangible excitement present; listening to the cheers, the stomps, and the applause.

"BEGIN!"

As quick as the confirmation of the battle left Asmodeus' lips with his fluffy, crimson locks flowing in the winds generated by his own voice, the competitors instantly began their clash.

Holding his staff forward, winds formed from a rise in mana fluttered the sable mantle Fedrin wore over his robes as he yelled out without any hesitation, "Luft: Roar!"

As a gray complexion took over the orb's glow, a burst of wind shrieked out from the elf's position--hurling towards the lanky, unnatural figure dressed in an enigmatic bodysuit. Reaching its point of detonation, the stratifications of wind released with a volatile reaction, conjuring a sand storm to overtake the arena.

"A ROUSING START TO THE SECOND MATCH! DID FEDRIN END HIS FOE INSTANTLY?"

No, I didn't feel a collision. All I hit was sand, Fedrin thought.

Attempting to see through the abundance of obscuring sand blocking his vision, the elf gasped as he witnessed a hand shrouded in white, skintight leather reach out from the ground below like a spirit haunting the battle grounds. With little time to react to such an unorthodox situation, the hand with fingers that almost resembled claws in their unnatural length, grasped his ankle.

"Wasser: Dampen!"

Pointing the end of his staff towards the ground in a hurry as a burning sensation shot through his leg, Fedrin shifted the coarse, dry sand below into a loose, damp texture as a layer of water embedded itself from the azure shifted orb into the ground below--causing the hand to retreat forcibly before the man jumped back with a huff.

"Ghh…"

Looking down at his leg, the fabric of his sable trousers has been completely disintegrated, with the flesh of his ankle being seared to a burning, steaming red.

I got lucky; it seems his ability to pass through solid objects only works on one material at a time. Also...it seems he possesses some sort of affinity for fire, Fedrin thought.

"Damn, I can't see a thing with all of this sand…!"

Macheo complained as he squeezed the quartz sill with his black gloves, trying to follow the obscure shadows hidden within the mist of sand.

"Come on, long ears!"

Cheering on the man mainly out of spite of his opponent, Ren watched the walls of sand desperately from his side of the spectating window.

From seemingly nowhere--a presence was right beside him--one that wasn't there a moment prior, he thought. It was the old, raggedy man hidden behind dirtied robes, standing shorter than himself.

Huh? Is he interested in this fight? Why? Ren thought.

Ju-Long and Aiko finally noticed the presence of the old man who didn't seem fit for Purgatory as well as he silently watched the fight behind the guise of his obscuring cloak.

"Fedrin will not lose this battle."

His voice was coarse and rough like the sand so abundantly present in the arena, but it was not weak in the slightest as would be estimated by his stature.

"You know him…? Bakar, right?"

"In this hellish realm, he is my companion; that is why I am sure of his victory. And yes...I am Bakar. I already know of your name, Ren."

Answering Ren without looking at the young man, the appearance of the aged competitor was revealed as he raised his head, showing his light brown skin riddled with cracks and wrinkles, with bushy eyebrows that almost seemed to blend with his beard.

He remembered my name? I'm flattered! Ren thought.

Though, it was plain as day to see--those vermillion eyes he held weren't withered; they were the eyes of one who had stood the test of time.

"Just watch him."