The moment I stepped into the sandy ring wielding my hoe, the "carrying injured people" guy tapped me on the shoulder.

"Psst, you aren't allowed to use weapons. Armours are allowed but not above Iron Rank!" He took my hoe and bag from me, then placed it in a box beside him.

"Oh, what are the rules then?"

"It's simple. Weapons and items are not allowed, high ranked armours are not allowed. You aren't allowed to kill or severely injure your opponent either. Good enough?"

"Yeah, thanks." Our conversation was short, simple and got to the point quickly; just the way I liked it. The man scanned me with his aura, probably a last check for forbidden objects. Approved, I stared at my opponent across the ring, a boy who looked a little younger than me in a white cloak. He noticed my glance and grinned as his silverish hair fluttered in the wind.

"Alan versus Griaugh!"

The monotonous voice of the announcer rang out, signifying the start of the fight. I heard the roar of the audience as they cheered.

"Griaugh! Griaugh! Griaugh!"

As expected, none of the cheers were for me. Expecting that didn't make make it pleasant either, just think of a fight where everyone in the audience was hoping you would lose. Except the haters of the guy maybe.

"Alan, was it? I look forward to a splendid fight with you!" Griaugh bowed politely, inciting more annoying cheers. He seemed like nice enough of a guy at least.

"Likewise!" I shouted back in response, returning the bow. It was rather wonky, this peasant's first time attempting a bow; it incited a few chuckles from the watchers. My veins popped as I resisted the urge to find a rock somewhere and throw it toward their heads.

"Here I come!"

Hearing his steps as he ran, I turned to see my opponent charging as he brandished his fists. It was quite surprising to see him charge, most mages launching spells from a safe distance. Not that I was one to speak, seeing how I was a melee mage as well.

I watched as he neared, dashing forward with a powerful punch towards his forehead. He tried to move his palms upwards to block, but was too slow, my fist contacting his head.

That was easy.

My fist then phased through his head directly, proving for the umpteenth time that things won't go the way I think they would. Without the expected rebound from the punch, my forward dash caused me to fall forward, somehow phasing through his entire body. What the heck was going on? Whatever the case, there wasn't time to think. I reached out my arms as quickly as I could to brace my fall, but was hit on the back by a punch that felt like an attack from a sledgehammer.

"Gahhh!" I fell towards the ground face first, coughing. The punch was so strong it knocked all the air out of my lungs! The sandy ground didn't help with my attempts to refill them. It was a good thing there was a rule not to injure the opponent too badly, making him stop at a single punch; I would have been defeated otherwise!

"Contestant Alan is down!"

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

A countdown before the fight ends?

"Seven!"

"Six!"

I head the footsteps of Griaugh as he stepped behind me, checking my condition.

"Five!"

Taking the opportunity to return the sneak attack, I kicked backwards at full force, managing to hit him.

"AIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

I shot up from the ground and took a look at Griaugh, shocked. He was curled on the ground around ten metres away from me for some reason, screeching as he clutched his groin.

"Contestant Alan is back up!"

Shouts of protest could be heard from the audience, all insulting my "blunder", dirty cheater, scum, bastard making up most of the insults. Damn, these bastards were so biased! They sure as heck didn't complain when Griaugh sneak attacked me!

Still, that didn't make me any less guilty for the horiffic pain I had infilicted on him. It wasn't his fault his fans were so "cancerous". My own set practically winced in sympathy as I watched him grimace.

"Contestant Griaugh is down!"

"Uh... Sorry about that. It was an accident!" (Yeah, smooth Alan strikes again!)

Griaugh, being the noble guy me was forgave me, an incredible feat I would not be able to achieve if I was the one hit in the precious instead.

"It's... fine, all is fair in a fight! In fact, I congratulate you for being first to hit me in this tournament!" His "heroic speech" roused the audience, making them cheer for him. Oh, how I wished they would SHUT THE FUCK UP! He proped himself up, preparing to stand.

"Contestant Griaugh is back up!"

"I should be fine now, I recover fast." He gave me a thumbs up and a grin, vanishing from sight, invisible. Well, fuck. On a side note, I really should ask him where he bought the spells he was learning. I would be able to dominate physical combat with them!

I tried the first thing I thought of, listening for the sound of his steps. Nope, the sand masked the sound perfectly. That or he learnt sound concealment spells. I watched the sand for footsteps as well, but none appeared. Damn, was this guy a freaking ninja or something?

I had a fleeting thought of fishing him out with the Scan spell for a split second, but abandoned the ridiculous thought. Wasting my Rank progress for a skirmish wasn't worth it. Shit, what do I do? If he attacks me again, this time he would know not to hold back and defeat me!

...

Then a brilliant idea hit me.

I ripped my shirt off, typing a makeshift bandana around the bottom half of my face, effectively masking my nose and mouth. I then raised my hands, balling them into fists, then slamed them hard onto the ground.

BOOOOOM!

With my power as a Rank 3 Body Refiner, I was able to send the sand into the air in a huge cloud, blanketing the entire area. The bad news, I wasn't thinking properly in the spur of the moment and didn't consider how my eyes would fare in a cloud of sand. (THEY FREAKING HURT) The good news was that I was able to catch Griaugh's outline by forcing my eyes to stay open, so now I knew where he was. He was faring far worse than me without the "breathing aid" at the very least, coughing and sputtering sounds coming from his transparent silhouette.

I ignored the intense pain of the sand in my eyes and charged forward, managing to punch Griaugh on what felt like his chest. It was a shame I couldn't aim better due to the unclear outline he had, else I would have hit his head to knock him out. I tried to launch another attack, but he had already dodged backwards, too far away to hit. The sand cloud settled at this point, the sand not buoyant enough to stay in the air for long. I rubbed the sand off my eyes with one hand, readying an attack with another, but something halted my action.

Darkness, pure darkness greeted me like back in the abyss. Not a thing could be seen before me even as stretched fingers before my eyes in an attempt to see them move.

What the heck was going on?