Chapter 5 Euphoria
I expected to find some worthy opponents in the tournament. But what I found was dearer still. I wanted her from the moment I first saw her.
Second day of the tournament started when heralds announced another fight:
‘’Euphoria versus Forgn!’’
Euphoria was a beautiful woman in her twenties or thirties. She was wearing black leather armor but was seemingly a unarmed. Her enemy was a tall black haired man who had a sword and a shield.
Euphoria’s movements resembled a wild bizarre dance that only she knew. She was turning and spinning in seemingly a different world. Completely indifferent to the crowd and the enemy in front of her. Screams, drum sounds… All of went silent and disappeared. Even the time itself was so captivated by this magical spectacle that he stopped for a while to observe her with admiration. Euphoria was somewhere far far away. In her own space. She was simply enjoying herself and delight of life.
Suddenly the dance ended. Euphoria stood right in front of Forgn. And then in a blink of eye the fight was over. The man was still shocked and not able to understand what is happening. He was too mesmerized to even move a muscle. Just stared in front him with a blank face. That was also how he died. Euphoria made a lightning fast kick. The heel of her shoe was sharper than a razor. It sliced the neck of Forgn and then landed before he hit the ground.
Even before this bloody climax entire crowd was already enchanted by this deadly beauty. And after such performance her charms became only more powerful. People were chanting her name with great excitement. In their eyes Euphoria now became almost a mythical figure. And yet no one in the crowd was as thrilled as Cercor. He observed every movement with glowing eyes. Mercenary even smiled with delight. It seemed that he finally found what he was looking for.
At this point of his life Cercor was getting most pleasure by constantly facing the danger and overcoming the death itself. That made him feel truly alive. It was madness. Search of this triumphant sensation was not only his way of life. Long ago it became part of warrior’s essence as well. All other earthly pleasures now seemed blank and tasteless in comparison. At some point Cercor noticed that he barely cared about anything other than fighting. Two masters of the art of war clashing against each other. A perfect expression of beauty and passion.
But this time just by observing a fight Cercor felt the same pleasure that he would normally only experience while fighting himself. Once Cercor saw precise, plastic moves of Euphoria he felt as if fire was flowing in his veins. All warrior’s senses were focused on the queen of life and death dancing in the arena. She truly was a miracle. Priceless gem misplaced by a whim of the gods or the irony of fate.
In the end the reason for this meeting was not important. All that mattered was that for some reason this meeting did happened. Cercor knew one thing for certain- he craved to see Euphoria once again dancing her deadly dance. He desired to once again see that flaming joy of life in her eyes. At least one more time. But not as a spectator. Cercor wanted to clash with that fire. Face to face. That was the only way to satisfy his new found curiosity.
This wish was granted sooner than mercenary dared to hope. Next evening heralds declared the fated fight:
’Cercor versus Euphoria!’’
Mercenary was very glad to hear these words. He rushed to arena faster than a bird. Warrior waited for this fight for so long. For so many years…Perhaps even his entire life? He likely didn't knew this himself but he was searching not only for the strongest opponents. He also wanted to find something that would challenge his perspective to the world and to meaning of life. This weird woman was incredibly close to that seemingly utopian ideal. Cercor had to know for certain. Finding this answer was far more important than anything else in the world. Even more important than his life.
Euphoria was perfectly calm. She was once again in control of her inner demons. Fighter started a fight with the same dance. She seemingly went to a different world and ignored reality, crowd and her opponent. But this time her dance was interrupted sooner and in a different way. Because Cercor was also not an ordinary man.
Mercenary was once again speechless and charmed by Euphoria beauty and elegance. But not even that magic could his fighting performance. Well at least not in negative way. Fighting was his nature. Meeting with an incredible rival made Cercor even more focused than normal. Mercenary moved so fast that he left few afterimages.
Euphoria could not believe this. This was the first time in many years when someone was able to step into her world. Cercor was the first man who could keep up with her dance. And even disturb it. This was very exciting development. She believed that she could beat any other fighter. But this was a tough nut. After admitting this to herself Euphoria decided to heat things up. Her movements became even faster more dashing and sharper. But at the same time even in the heat of battle she could not hold back a charming smile. Or joyful sparks in her eyes.
Mercenary was enjoying every minute of this fight as well. It was the best day of his entire life. Euphoria far surpassed all opponents who had faced with Cercor in the past. They both seemed to be equally matched. Euphoria once again didn’t use any normal weapon. Only her deadly heels. But Cercor already knew how dangerous those shoes are so he evaded every kick. For a few hours neither fighter was able to hit the other. Both were constantly upping their game. For a long time spectators were no longer able to understand what was happening in the arena. All they saw was sudden gusts of dust and sand but following either a blazing sword or sharp kicks was not something their eyes could do.
Even though opponents were worthy of each other but their goals in this devilish dance were different. Cercor never lost in battle. He overcame each and every obstacle that got in his way. He couldn't afford to lose here. Because victory to him was more sacred and important than his life. Euphoria simply enjoyed life and winning the fight seemed like the only way she could continue praising the miracle of life.
Perhaps different mindsets were what decided the outcome of the fight. Euphoria was surprised when one of her kicks hit the target. Heel pierced mercenary’s shoulder and stung deep into his chest. But at this moment Cercor caught his opponent’s hip. And then both fighter hit the ground. For a while they were struggling for supremacy while rolling on the ground. This exchange was brief but passionate. Still in the end Cercor stood up while Euphoria was lying on her back. Both of them were wounded and bleeding. And yet both of them were still smiling?
‘’Do you submit?’’ asked Cercor while placing a pointy end of the sword next to her chest. He already knew the answer.
‘’No.’’
Somewhere far away in a distant world crowd was screaming and demanding to kill her. They were no longer under Euphoria’s charms and now only wanted for her death. But those tens of thousands of voices belonged to a different world. They had no meaning here. No. They could not even reach this sacred ground.
For some time both fighters simply looked into each other's eyes. After that Cercor suddenly started laughing. No human had wounded him as much as the woman in front of him. That meant that she deserved to live more than any other human. Her life was precious. Her smile was priceless. That was more than enough. Cercor pulled back his blade. And then extended his other hand to help Euphoria to get back on her feet.
This conclusion to the fight was unexpected and not appreciated. Both fighters just a few moments ago were nearly demigods in the eyes of spectators. But now everything changed. Crowd despised Euphoria for losing. And they hated Cercor for sparing his opponent’s life. In normal circumstances no one would have dared to express this disdain. But now fighters were wounded and weakened. At the same time time the spectators were still blinded by their own thirst for blood. Their status and numbers gave them a sense of safety and superiority. One of the fools was a noble who felt especially full of himself:
‘’Why are you not killing that bitch you piece of shit?! I came here to be entertained. I paid a small fortune not because I wanted to see you holding hands. Kill her already you will easily find another whor…’’
The noble was not able to finish the sentence. To strengthen his words in the beginning of this rant he threw a rock at mercenary. Cercor caught the rock…and then easily crushed it with his hand. He didn’t say a single word. But words were not needed. His gaze was even scarier than his inhuman strength. Scary enough to instantly make entire arena silent as a grave. The noble felt as if death itself was staring at him. His face turned pale and he ran away while pissing himself. No one else dared to make any noise or to look at furious Cercor. Tens of thousands of people felt the same thing. At this moment all their lives were in this man’s hands. In front of this being their numbers, class or wealth meant absolutely nothing. After this realization the fight was truly over.