Skies Watch was abuzz with activity as people were enjoying one of the largest events of the year. While the spring and fall tournaments were great locally, the summer's tournament brought people from far away as well as near. The prize money and the chance for nobles to offer someone who caught their eye a job offer meant many people would come for reasons beyond the entertainment or testing their own skill.

The summer tournament was three days in length, unlike the single day of the fall or spring tournaments. On the first day of the three, it was usually the wildest, despite being the only day that had no tournament for anyone to participate in.

Each road, within a certain distance of the coliseum, was full of locals and traveling merchants. A lot of things for sale, games of chance, buildings reserved for different levels of debauchery, and foods that were often only enjoyed during the days of and around the summer tournament.

It was also the day where anyone could sign up to participate in the tournament that started the next day.

While anyone was permitted to try to participate in the tournament, they had to prove some sort of basic combat skill. They could show off weapon skills, martial arts skills, or any sort of magic that would be considered combat oriented. This had lead to many people of different skillsets showing up and some people learning a new one so they could hide the one they were best at.

One rule was that people would have to register while wearing and bringing whatever they would use in the tournament, as well as state the magical skills they would use. There were no rules regarding weapons, armor, or tools, as long as they weren't consumable items that couldn't be reused, like potions.

While magically enchanted items could be used they had to be something that could be used more than once. Both of those restrictions were in place to reduce the chance of someone simply enchanting something or using something, that was just a one-shot explosive.

Three of those who entered that summer tournament had worn something that drew eyes from those who were getting everything set up for the tournament the next day.

A large man wearing armor made from the hide of a horned wolf. Its horn removed and attached, after being broken into a few pieces, onto his gloves as makeshift first weapons. The claws were extra sharp from polish and grinding the pieces into a set of blades that were intimidating to many who saw him sign up.

Covered in spiked armor from head to toe, a dwarven woman carried an oversized hammer with spikes on the handle. The space between the spikes were carved with various looks of horror, gore, and beasts looking enraged. A form of visual intimidation combined with a threat to grapplers who might try to take hold of her.

Last was a beastkin woman. Her exact race couldn't be determined at a glance, but the soft fur that could be seen on her upper arms and on her thighs revealed she was indeed, at least part, beastkin.

Her ears and facial form were covered by a helm keeping many speculating her specific lineage. That, however, wasn't what drew everyone's attention.

Across the woman's hip was a belt, with a large collection of throwing blades. It hung slightly and, to many, the blades it held were hardly noticeable compared to the fact the only other clothing she had on barely covered the intimate parts of her body. If not for the fact she was signing up for the tournament she would likely be seen as someone attempting to attract people into one of the brothels that many would visit during the festivities.

By the time the day, and the sign-ups for the tournament, ended well over seven hundred people had signed up for the tournament. Even with the estimation of a few dozen of the people being late, and losing the right to participate, the next day was expected to have a lot of activity.

On the longest day of that year, the summer tournament started. Those who were competing had a chance to draw numbered paper to decide who they would fight and when. The man in the armor made from his own kill took a paper that had black writing on it. The dwarven woman covered in spikes drew a paper that had purple writing on it. While the woman barely wearing anything had drawn paper with green writing on it.

"Alright, everyone!"

Those who had their paper, but hadn't been paying attention turned to the source of the voice. A lovely young woman had been holding something like an oversized silver bracelet to her lips as she spoke, making her voice easier to hear.

"I see many of you from previous years, but I also noticed a lot of first-time competitors. This will be a simple process. In total there were seven hundred and five of you who signed up and followed the rules to participate. Forty-four people failed to get here on time and lost the right to join in."

“Since tomorrow there are only going to be eight of you participating in the finals, today we have eight arenas set up where you will fight. You each have a paper with a number written on it and, in case you can’t read, the number was written with colored ink so you know what arena to go to and someone will let you know when it is your turn.”

A little over half of the people nodded at her words, looking again at the paper that they had drawn from the box, determining who they would need to defeat for a spot in the final eight.

“With this number of competitors, you will either have to do six or seven rounds in order to claim one of the eight spots. Sure those who have seven instead of six will have a bit more exhaustion, but luck is just as important as skill in life so we have no reason to adjust it here if your luck isn’t as good as others.”

“If everyone would please look at the paper they drew you will notice there is a thick twine on the ground of the same color as the ink. You are to follow it to your individual waiting rooms. As this is the early rounds all eight rings will be fought in at the same time until most of you are eliminated. That is because we don't know which of you deserves to be put in the castle's shadow. To be blunt some of you are just outclassed and it will be a good lesson for those of you who are too arrogant for your own good. Many of you I will be surprised if you get a third win.”

The group of people slowly began to separate as they followed the paths provided on the ground and walls. In her nearly nonexistent armor, the beastkin woman felt many eyes upon her. A younger man, barely beyond a boy to most people, approached her as he walked with the group.

“What brings you to this place dressed like that. I mean I don’t pretend to have great armor, but at least I have everything covered up properly and some good gloves to help me grip my weapon. Even with the precautions for everyone's safety, you might get hurt by mistake and if someone cuts what you are wearing instead of armor you could end up embarrassed.”

The woman stayed quiet for a moment before speaking. Her voice deeper than her figure would have indicated as she traced one of the claws she was able to produce from her right hand against the fur on her left arm.

“I can’t fight too well in heavy armor. I like helmets though. Especially when they cover my eyes to a large extent while still allowing me to see. The eyes give away more than you realize. To keep them exposed is the greatest threat in a one on one fight against someone with a proper amount of combat skills.”

She pulled out her knives one by one and looked at their edge from various sides. She finished doing so shortly after they were all brought into the waiting room.

While within the waiting room people congregated into groups and spoke as those who couldn’t read asked those who were working what number they had on their paper. The woman had already put hers away, not needing it as a reminder for the number she had been given. Her first match would be against whoever won a match in the round of those who had to fight an extra round.

If she counted right, since those having to do an extra round went first, she would be in the thirty-eighth match of this tournament. Having plenty of time to prepare herself physically and mentally she began to look over the others in the room.

Of the eighty-eight or eighty-six as two men had already left for the first fight, she counted seventeen other women in this block. Many, but not all, were wearing lighter armor than the men and had smaller weapons. Only three of them went contrary to this observation.

While people had started talking, it was purely casual as nobody would be trying to make friends. By the time the fourth match was over, the room was losing a lot of its false camaraderie and people had started to isolate themselves from each other.

Each round was quick at this stage, because of how many they had to go through. Even with eight matches happening at once there were too many to allow everyone to take their time. The speed of fights was aided by the fact that some people were outclassed beyond what they could hope to luck their way through.

When two people left for the arena they were given a pair of chokers. Everyone had been informed about their functions the day they signed up. One of them held a white rounded false jewel that was magically created with unknown means. It was meant to detect how much damage the person would have taken and changed color to indicate when the fight was lost and how much damage they had sustained.

In the finals, there would be a display for those watching in the stands. It was so they could see the color of the two competitors' gems, making it easier for those who weren't able to tell how a fight was going at a glance to have an easier time understanding what they saw.

The second one had, instead of a gem, many colored threads giving it a shimmer that clung tightly to the wearer. It had magic that worked with the first choker that would make its wearer's body slow, and even stop working in specific ways based on the injuries that would normally be sustained.

While this tournament was made to reproduce true combat by allowing the body to act as if it was injured and pain to be felt, the chockers, when used together, would prevent that damage from happening. Although the cost and prep time were said to be enough that the ticket sales alone wouldn't cover the cost of what they needed to keep the safety mechanics working. If this was true or not, most people wouldn't know.

When the time came for the woman with only a helmet to protect herself to compete she had a human man follow alongside her. He was slightly tall for a human, but she still had a little height on him.

The pair found their arena amongst the eight and took opposite sides. There was a small announcement that told the people the names of the fighters, but nothing more to save time.

Vaara was revealed as the name of the woman wearing nearly nothing while her opponent was called Ulam. The rest of the groups were announced and, after making sure everyone's chokers were on properly the worker in the center of the eight arenas readied the timekeeper.

As the people were readying to watch and say various things to the fighters, Vaara had a lot of people rooting for her to lose. Many of them made lewd comments and some even offered her a job on her knees when she lost the fight, despite her competition not looking overly impressive in terms of his body except for his height.

When the timer was flipped over all eight fights started at once and the first one finished was Vaara's. Taking three knives from her belt she threw them, one by one, at her target in rapid succession. Each one pierced his armor as if it wasn't there. Not even the smallest amount of resistance was noticed as he fell to the ground, the chokers indicating that he had lost before many had even taken the time to look at that fight.

After Ulam fell, the mage in charge of checking on the combatants climbed onto the small arena and removed the throwing knives. One hit the chest, another in the right shoulder and the last hit the right knee. Only when the blades were removed and the chokers taken off was he able to move again properly.

Peeking at the knives and his armor, Ulam started to yell out, "What bullshit is this? You had to use something illegal or how would you have been able to get through my armor with those mediocre blades? Sure my armor wasn't top quality but it was metal."

Putting her weapons back where they belonged Vaara started to leave the arena. The time that it took for the examination of the loser of the fight was enough that all but one other fight was finished and the timer was nearing its completion, meaning the choker's color would decide the winner soon.

"I have passive magic. You just had no chance against it. Most people don't. I doubt anyone will have a chance to defeat me in this bracket so don't feel bad. When I go to the final eight you can say you lost to the finalist. No wait you did win that partial layer fight to be allowed to fight me so at least you can say you won once before you lost. That proves you aren't the worst fighter here."

Not liking Vaara's words, Ulam ran at her, mace in hand. He didn't get very far however, as the one who had been taking care of him after the defeat grabbed his arm as he started to run and caused him to fall to the ground limply.

"Attacking someone outside of the fighting arena and trying to do so after a loss means you are not welcome back sir."

Pushing Ulam off the edge of the arena, he offers Vaara a soft bow, "You had a great win miss. He will be told to leave once he can move again. I just hope he is the only one I need to do that with. It's useful magic, but there are reasons I am a medic and not a fighter."

Most of the fights went as expected. While there were a few upsets in individual rounds it was usually because the person used magic that they hadn't used before. Something that couldn't be planned against without prior knowledge thanks to the diversity of magic that could be learned.

In the final round to decide who would compete the next day, there was a noticeably bigger audience compared to any of the other rounds.

This was likely because it was the round to decide who would make it to the finals and have a chance at the top four combatants prize money. It was also the only fight that would be allowed to go until it finished, as long as it ended before the sunset. The number of combatants and how long the final rounds could take were some of the reasons that the tournament was held on the longest day of the year.

Of the eight fights, the first one to finish was a fight between two human men. While one man had better weapons and armor, the other man was willing to fight dirty. Since the rules were loose about what could be used this man had many pouches full of various tools. In the end, he won with a combination of two items.

Tossing a cloth at the man's face, his opponent backed up enough to not be blinded, but, with his action to defend his vision, he didn't notice that a handful of spheres, barely visible against the stone arena floor, had been thrown at his feet. The fall it created was enough for him to lose the fight, despite his better equipment, when he was mounted and pummeled.

Next was the man who wore armor made of his horned wolf kill, using horns as a form of claws. Losing to a human woman who used a sort of magic. He didn't get a good look at what defeated him. He didn't even realize he had lost until after he was being removed from the arena, his claws shattered.

From there the next two winners were both human. A man who had engulfed his fist in flame and a woman that used a lance to trip up her opponent, making them fall out of the arena rather than losing through harm inflicted.

Next Vaara won her fight, but at the same time, it caused pause. Her opponent was another beastkin woman. One who specialized in speed like her, but used specially made weapons attached to her hands and feet. She had proper armor on and was managing to avoid the knives thrown at her until one went right into her eye, blade first. Except it bounced right off instead of sinking in as the other blades always had.

The unexpected result of being hit in the face gave her pause. Especially as a second knife hit her in the chin with the same result. It was only that pause that gave Vaara the moment she needed to use the last blade on her belt and sunk it directly into her opponent's throat.

After that the dwarven woman with spiked armor won, followed by two more human men who simply wore out their opponent before they themselves were worn out.

Once all the fights were over the eight champions would draw to see who they fought the next day. Only one more victory was needed for some prize money. Those who won their first round, regardless of the next results, would get enough money for most people to survive on for years. Only the final champion would get enough to never need to work again, based on a human's lifespan. They were also the only one who would not be allowed to compete again.

Vaara drew three, noting that she would fight against the man who took the longest for his win. From there she would fight whichever woman fighting with magic managed to defeat the other. Then she would face whichever of the last four that made it to the finals, assuming she won each round.

When the next day came the arenas were more full than any time during the previous day. The eight arenas from the previous day had been combined into one, the timekeeper removed and replaced with two oversized fake gems placed above the wall on one edge of the coliseum.

Everyone began to cheer as the first two fighters entered the arena. The betting pool had put better odds on the younger looking woman, but Vaara didn't trust the odds of people who hadn't fought or known the magic they both used. Having to fight against the winner in the next round she had a great interest in the round and listened to the announcer speaking into the bracelet that amplified its users' voice to fire up the crowd.

Telling everyone about the fights they had prior and how they had used magic to win a lot of their fights brought many cheers from the audience.

"I wonder what their mana scores are," Vaara said to herself as she started to think about the magic they used.

"None of what they used could be considered weak, although that guy who drew slot five could be considered as good with his management since he kept his magic only on his body parts about to strike the opponent. They all had six or seven fights so even if we consider the first two to be easy since anyone could enter that is still four or five fights that they used magic, including one where there was no reason to be in a rush."

Looking at them one of the guards approached her from behind.

"Miss Vaara you aren't allowed to watch from here. The fighters area has a view of the arena."

"I like it better here," she replied without looking at him.

The guard approached and put a hand on her elbow, "Miss there are rules about this tournament, and if you wish to have...."

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Vaara drawing a knife from her belt and putting it to the guard's chest. She didn't say a word as he let go of her.

"I'm letting go, but the rules are the rules and if you stay here you will forfeit the next round. Besides, your blade wouldn't get through my armor like the other peoples. I have high-quality armor."

Vaara looked him up and down, "Noble?"

"Third son of a Baron. Your poorly crafted blades wouldn't even scratch my armor. Especially after so much use yesterday."

Vaara smiled behind her helmet and turned to the guard. His armor was impressive and his appearance was, only a little, below average for a noble. The money and connections, however, would be enough to make many overlook his flaws, she assumed.

"Fine I'll go to the proper location, but for putting your hands on me like that I want a chance to prove that that armor can be scratched, but not with a knife."

Extending her fingers a bit, small claws protrude from them. The sight makes the young noble let out a polished laugh as he starts to indicate where she should go.

"I suppose that's fair. The whore fighter using her breasts and ass to distract the men so she can win. If you win this next round you will fight your first capable woman and I doubt she will be distracted so easily."

The fight started as Vaara walked with the guard a few steps, jogging to get in front of him. Once she felt she was in a good position she drew her hand up and, with only one claw extended, slashed against the guards' breastplate. Her claws ripped through it like light piercing through the darkness. In one spot the man's undershirt could be seen.

Pausing to look at the damage, the noble guard was about to speak when her hand struck out at the side of his head, all claws extended this time. The motion and sensation of touch told him that all of her claws raked across his cheek and through his hair, but when he touched his head...

"You aren't hurt," Vaara stated matter of factly, "I can't hurt your head with my claws right now. If you're confused wait until my fight. You will learn why you should never rely too much on one thing, son of a baron."

By the time Vaara got to where she was supposed to go the fight was nearly over. Both fighters had fought in a flashy manner. The audience was cheering and rooting for whoever they had bet on as the magic clashed between the two. Both of them looked to be struggling compared to their early fights the day before, despite a full night of rest and any needs they had being paid for by the kingdom.

"They're running out of mana."

Turning to the source of the voice, Vaara saw her opponent speaking up as he looked at her.

"Lucky for one of us. A full day of fights where they were using their magic had to have drained their strength. Especially the older one. She already looked tired when the fight started. This fight could go either way and that helps us."

"The winner will likely be too tired to fight us with that sort of vigor, but even if you lose in the second round the prize money is still good. Just getting this far I bet both of them will get offers from various professionals for work. Is your mana doing fine? I imagine that you do something to those daggers to help them go past your opponents' armor like that."

Vaara was quiet as she looked at the man. He looked her up and down a bit with a smile in return.

"I don't get why you dress like that, but it won't work on me. You should have entered wearing armor. At least then you could wear it, even if you stripped it off before each fight for whatever effect you were hoping to get with this. Being objective you are lovely, but you aren't my type so it won't help."

Moving towards the path she was supposed to take to the arena, Vaara snubbed the man as he turned his head from her.

On the arena floor, the fight had ended. Despite the odds, the older of the two combatants was the winner. The woman in her early twenties had found herself unable to use any more magic, leading to her defeat at the other woman's hands. Oddly enough, Vaara noted along with many of the people in the front rows, the winner looked more exhausted than the loser.

Upon the arena floor, Vaara stood close enough to her opponent that he could charge, but not without him taking a risk. She was planning her first move based on her opponents' actions as the announcer started speaking into the voice amplifying bracelet.

"On my left, we have Vaara the nearly nude fighter. If not for her helmet she would be as good as completely exposed. Why, though, is only her face hidden. Is she a beauty who fears suitors or perhaps her face is damaged beyond repair and she hates the idea of pity?"

"Regardless of these questions, this woman is a master knife thrower. She seems to be able to hit nearly any target, only having trouble with one of her own kind. Was the speed the deciding factor or did she hold back against one of her own people? Perhaps this fight will show what this woman's true skill is."

"Hopefully her opponent will remember that she admitted early on that she was a user of passive magic. The only one to get to the final rounds, so unlike the last fight, waiting for her to run out of mana will never work. At least he doesn't need to fear dozens of spells in exchange. No concerns about mana in exchange for only one specific skill. How many of us would make that trade if it was something that you had a choice in?"

Turning the announcer continued.

"On my right is Egrit the bone breaker. He keeps a collection of hammers off to the side of the arena to be swapped in when needed. Different sizes, weights, and shapes based on what he wants to destroy. Is he a cruel man who just wants to break everything or is he just skilled with the blunt tools of his trade?"

"While the hammers have the force and weight when used on his opponents, they have been magically enchanted so the one using it feels only a portion of the weight. A devious tactic for long drawn out fights. Normally the weight would mean that he doesn't hit often, but if he did it hurt. Just imagine the devastation if the man using the hammer wasn't hindered by its weight."

"Past fights have not revealed any sort of magic. Just remember that doesn't mean he has none to use. It's possible he is hiding something that could tip the scales of this fight."

With that, the announcer turned to the audience, "You have until the timekeeper in the front hall runs out to place any and all bets. Once that is done the fight will start."

To those who had seen that day's tournament it was a set of stories that were told each year as the tournament drew closer. Each year's fights would be compared to the fights of that years. Only four tournaments have passed since that day, but a fifth was on its way and some people's mind were already going to those last three rounds that Vaara fought in.

In the first round, she kept her distance. Even with the reduced weight, the weapons weren't something a child could pick up and she wore him down. The need to hit her close was the deciding factor. In the end, she won when he surrendered. It was something that drew amaze to this day as she threw a single knife, Egrit tried to block it with his mace.

He thought it would be fine, seeing the knife would hit his weapon, but instead, a sharp pain told him that his foot wouldn't let him keep moving as he had been.

A hole had gone through the maces head, a simple and bland tunnel from one side to the other despite how thick it was. The knife acted like it wasn't even there as a means of defense.

While the second round didn't have anything that stuck out, it was the only one she competed in where both fighters drew praise. According to those who worked with the fighters that day, Vaara said if she hadn't been a beastkin she likely would have lost.

The magic disarmed her and threw the blades out of the ring where she couldn't get them, but when her opponent ran out of mana it turned into a martial arts contest. Vaara said she wasn't as strong physically as her opponent, but her claws made up enough of a difference for her to pull out the win.

In the last round, she fought against and defeated, Nennt the man who used tools and didn't care about fighting in a proper way so long as he got what he wanted.

He had hidden weapons, caltrops, small stone spheres, and various magical tools at his disposal. The fight was longer than the majority that people had seen. Some people speculated that it was fixed because of how it ended. Nennt, who had been on even footing and managed to avoid all the daggers thrown at him, simply left the arena on his own accord.

His words, when he was asked about why simply gave up, were simple.

"I had almost no tools left to use and she still had her claws. Besides I didn't want to have to buy new armor."

After that day, people would begin to hope that Vaara would show up and take challenges. While she couldn't fight in the tournament again many champions would train or fight people as a result of such a win. Bragging rights would be had either way. Sure some admitted they would take the chance to fight her as a way to get their hands on her, but most respected her accomplishment too much to even think of it.

This was usually accompanied by a comment about how nothing stopped her from stabbing what she wanted to stab, accompanied by the men holding their legs close together and making a pained face, remembering how one knife found its place in the fourth round on the first day.