Foxbond Chapter 4

Hews Arena was simple to find. The high walls, taller even than the ones protecting the city, made it an easy landmark for new arrivals to use. It sat in the center of everything. Most of the main roads led to it, giving the city the impression of being a wagon wheel when looking at a map of it.

The cobblestone street that started just inside the gate wasn’t an exception, and Baern didn’t deviate from his path as he headed towards the arena. The buildings in this area were mostly two and three stories tall homes that were built close to the road.

Several had different signs or words painted on them cheering for their favorite competitors. Some had been egged or otherwise altered to make fun of the fighters, but that was few and far between. Most rare, though they did pop up, were those disparaging outsiders, sarcastically wishing them luck in their bracket only to wish them a decisive loss in the finals.

Baern wasn’t bothered by it at all. They took pride in their city and those who were either born or lived here long enough to be considered a Hewsparan. He might not have agreed with the twin bracket method, but such support for the competition was nice.

<They’re cheering for losers,> Kurix huffed. <These hopeful suckers just haven’t figured it out yet.>

“I think it’s nice of them,” Baern admitted. “Someday, we’ll have that kind of support. It’s inevitable once we start winning.”

<Yeah, but that's the kind of support where people send you hate mail, too. Fame, fortune, and power is a double edged sword.>

“You don't have to tell me that,” he mumbled before getting out of the way for a horse drawn carriage that must have thought coming down a crowded road was somehow a good idea.

The closer Baern got to the arena, the stronger he felt. He breathed deeply, pulling in the thick ambient mana even though his core was nearly full. This was the reason why such a big city sprouted up here.

Every prominent arena and coliseum in the empire was set up around a potent mana spring. Not only did they allow for more spectacular fights, but the faster recovery time gave Carded the chance to train longer. These springs, along with the competitions mandated by the empire, were the reason why these tournaments were such a national pastime. Nearly everyone was into it in one way or another.

The only drawback was that they were also beacons for monsters, but that wasn’t always seen as a negative.

In Hewspara, the monster hunting guild was prolific. If there was even a whiff of something dangerous outside of the walls, they were on it. Their information network was solid due to the fact that they paid well for any news that led to the death of a monster. Farmers that lived outside of the walls were usually the ones rewarded, though the guards were also known to pass off anything extremely lethal to them.

The masonry guild also did well for themselves here. They were contracted to keep the walls in top condition at all times, ensuring that the population was safe. Being a mason around such places was something to be proud of, and they took it seriously. Apprenticeships were very prestigious and hard to come by. It became almost like a competition in its own right whenever one opened up.

A crowded marketplace surrounded the arena, and Baern stepped into it. The people mingling and traveling through the area moved and stopped erratically. Most of them were the olive-skinned Hewsparans, their clothes modest for the weather, but the Carded also picked out several groups of people not native to the area. Such was the pull of the tournament circuit.

Soul Beasts were more common here. Baern had seen some on the way in, Sir Feriz’s included, but now there were several. From yellow furred monkeys with limbs twice the length of their squat bodies, to a horde of blue, flying insects that buzzed around a man’s tall, hive-like hat, to the common Razorfeathers that were emblazoned on the city’s official seal.

<Inadequate,> Kurix snorted, and Baern had the distinct impression that he was turning up his nose.

“Yes, yes. None of them can take you; you’re as deadly as you are adorable,” he soothed as he pushed through the crowd, keeping one hand on his belt pouch to prevent pickpockets.

<And don’t you forget it.>

Baern shook his head before he found a sign telling him which direction the Hews Arena entrance was in. That was where he’d be able to sign up for the preliminaries.

“The last few times, there was a battle royale,” he said aloud, more for Kurix than himself. “Because there were too many competitors, you see. If they do the same as they did last year, the outsider bracket should only allow for 32 entrants. Single elimination, so five rounds, and all one on one between Soul Beasts.”

<Only 5 rounds?> Kurix scoffed. <Too little. I can handle more than that. How about us against the other 31?>

“What, like a gauntlet?” Baern asked before shaking his head. “You know you’ll tire out before you even hit the double digits, right?”

<Nah, I’d win.>

“Okay. I can see why you’d think that, but even with the boost from the arena’s mana spring we’re probably going to get tired after two, maybe three rounds, tops,” he replied. “Everyone else will be in prime condition because they didn’t fight.”

<Of course everyone else will be fresh; it wouldn’t be a challenge otherwise. Isn’t that why we’re here?>

Sighing, Baern just nodded. He knew he wasn’t going to get through to the fox, and let it drop. Running the gauntlet against so many people did sound thrilling, but it depended on the competition. If they did do a battle royale just to determine who moves on to the actual bracket, then there was plenty of room for coincidences to lead to upsets. It didn’t guarantee the best of the best.

Still, now he was fantasizing about it. They might not win a gauntlet, but Baern thought it could be fun while it lasted.

Letting that particular daydream disappear, he left the crowd behind to enter the arena. He was stopped briefly by someone selling tickets outside the door, but showing off his mark got him inside. The moment they had some space Kurix emerged from his partner’s body.

Baern released a breath as the mana in his core was spent to create a new vessel for his Soul Beast. The fox shook his body as if he was trying to throw off water. He looked himself over, making sure to smooth down any errant hairs, and paid extra attention to his tail. Once again, he was in his black and white form.

<Much better than some dumb monster cat tail,> Kurix said confidently, swishing it high in the air before leading his partner further in.

The entrance hall was large and magnificent with plenty of space to allow people to get to where they were going. There were paths to either side that led underneath the arena seats as well as stairs to get underneath the arena, which was where the competitors went before their matches. In the center of the room were tables and a sign to grab the attention of new competitors.

Large banners hung from the ceiling, announcing the winners of previous tournaments held in Hews Arena. The ones for the Hewspara Regional were most numerous considering they were hosted here, but there were some from other tournaments.

Most prominent were those from the Sunbound Circuit, a tournament hosted by the Emperor himself that the pair hoped to compete in eventually. There was one from the Junior Division won by Salway Macada and Alfran over a decade ago and another from the Expert Division won by Dalph Rugrin and Kite Zero a few years back.

Baern recognized both of the names. They had been one hit wonders who won through gimmicks that didn’t last through the next year, but were beloved figures here in Hewspara despite their lack of continued success.

Kurix sniffed the air as he trotted ahead of Baern towards the sign-up table and the young man stationed there. <There’s some decent people here,> he said, looking around.

“What, worried your gauntlet idea might not be as winnable as you think?”

<I’ll admit it might be a bigger challenge than I had thought, but I stand by my confidence,> the fox said unwaveringly.

Baern snorted. “Truly, the world could learn a lot from you, Kurix.”

The fox’s tail wagged at what he perceived to be praise. Once his partner caught up, he jumped onto the table and puffed out his chest majestically, looking out into the distance as if he were too important to be paying attention.

“No beasts on the table,” the young man said, his voice bored. The teenager, who Baern guessed the age of thanks to his marred skin, didn’t look impressed by Kurix’s posturing. He did give the fox a look over before seeming to dismiss him.

“Sorry about that. He’s a little over eager.” Baern picked his partner up, causing the fox to struggle indignantly, and set him down on the ground. “I’m Baern, and this is Kurix. We’re here to compete.”

Reaching into his belt pouch and pulling out his competitor's card, he ran it along the back of his hand where his tattoo was. The identification flashed as it updated.

Unlike his papers, only one side was magical. The back showed which Soul Beast a Carded was bonded to on one side, which Baern had set to Kurix's current look. On the front was the part that had been updated with his new manticore card. It wasn’t nearly as much information as the guards required.

Thank the Goddess for that. 

“Welcome to Hews Arena, Baern and Kurix,” the young man greeted with a nod as he took the card. “You’re almost late. Give me just a moment to mark down your information.”

“Take your time,” Baern offered.

He watched the young man carefully. From the slouched demeanor to the dull expression, it certainly seemed like he was bored of his job. However, there was something sharp hidden in his eyes as he read the information, as if he were trying to memorize everything even as he wrote it down in the official ledger.

Baern considered his options. Empathy wouldn’t work here nearly as well as it had back in Talsmark. The younger man was clearly more focused than he let on. No, this interaction would call for a little bit of flattery and playing up his hometown pride. This was a big event for Hewspara, after all, even if they had to open up for outsiders.

“It’s a shame I have to compete as an outsider,” Baern started. “I grew up in Catacully.”

“Oh, yeah?” the young man replied.

“We’re a stone’s throw from being under Hewspara’s jurisdiction,” he continued. “As in, we’re directly across the river from Mettica, which has people who are close enough to join. The Clayphor River isn’t even that wide.”

“I suppose that is a pretty small border.”

“It is, but I’ve always wanted to compete here,” Baern said, putting on a smile as he looked up at the banners on the ceiling. “Instead, I was forced to start in Geor, like my competitor’s card says. Such a shame. I wasn’t feeling it at all. Not when my dream is here.”

Kurix scoffed, but said nothing.

The clerk’s eyes flicked upwards towards the Carded, who studiously ignored his fox. “Oh, yeah?” he repeated, this time with a hint of interest.

Baern nodded. “The coliseum there is so drab compared to Hews Arena. Not to mention that their announcers are dullards who can’t rile up a crowd. Not like here. I’ve been looking forward to this ever since seeing Dalph Rugrin’s victory live in the capital.”

The young man’s face softened slightly. “You were there for that?”

“My father took me. One of the best events of my life,” Baern said before sighing wistfully. “There hasn’t quite been a grand finals like that since. He was up against Royal Knight Falsworth and Stanson in the last match, right? The Carded with the Shieldbeetle.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” the clerk confirmed as he sat up straighter. “Falsworth kept on piling attack since Stanson had naturally high defense already, but even after he took flight he couldn’t keep up with Kite Zero.”

Baern nodded. “The meta that year was really attack focused, wasn’t it? The speed boosts were a good call, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t prepared for Kite’s agility despite seeing it throughout the tournament. Which, if your primary goal is to chase down your enemy and take them out quickly, that’s something you’d want to think about, don’t you think?”

“Not much can keep up with a Razorfeather, that’s just the facts,” the young man agreed.

<I can,> Kurix huffed, his tail twitching impatiently.

“The sport’s much faster than it used to be thanks to Kite Zero. A lot of things changed after that tournament.”

“I’d consider that a blessing, don’t you think?” he asked with a grin before offering his hand. “I’m Fenly. It's nice to meet you, Baern.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” he replied, shaking the young man’s hand. “So, what’s the headcount looking like so far? I was looking forward to the battle royale.”

“You really know your stuff,” the young man remarked.

Baern shrugged. “When you want to compete somewhere this badly, you tend to learn all you can about it.”

“I appreciate that effort, at least. There’s a lot of people who come through here that don’t know anything about Hewspara or the arena,” he said, frowning. “They just think of this as another stepping stone for victory. There’s a reason why we have two brackets, and it’s because of people like that.”

“It works in my favor, at least.” Baern gave Fenly a conspiratorial grin. “As a competitor Cattacully, I’m looking forward to knocking all those people out so I can compete against someone who’s actually from here.”

Fenly watched the Carded for a few moments before smiling. “You’re an alright sort, Baern,” he said. “But, there’s no battle royale this year.”

Probably means there’s something worse for us.

Baern lowered his head. “I’ll be honest, that’s a little disheartening.”

The young man nodded. “This year, all the outsiders go through previous competitors,” he informed, motioning behind him with his thumb. A group of men and women wearing black and yellow jackets with the word Judge written on the back were loitering. “They assign a point value after fighting you and Kurix, then the top 32 are decided and seeded through their suggestions.”

Baern watched as Kurix went around the table towards them, but didn’t stop him. If they were going to fight, he’d want to go up against the strongest. The only thing he had to figure out was which one fit the bill.

“That’s less disheartening,” the Carded said, trying to hide the strain on his smile.

A battle royale was chaotic and could cause plenty of upsets, but at least there was a level of transparency to it. By leaving the seeding up to a group of insiders, they could decide to pit powerful contestants against each other in early rounds or leave them out of the tournament altogether. 

To anyone with half a brain, it was obvious that it would be used to fix the matches. Anyone contesting it would have to face platitudes like “that was just how well they did against our judges” and “they might have won but it was close, that’s why they're seeded lower.” If such complaints escalated, then there was a lot of mud they had to get through to make an impact.

By then, the preliminaries would be over.

Not only that, but Baern would bet good money that none of the judges had a flying partner. Razorfeathers were popular in Hewspara due to their speed, power, and abundance. At least half of the Carded in the native’s brackets would probably be partnered with one, and he didn’t think the judges would have them, either. That would allow the outsiders a chance to practice against fliers.

“Tell you what, though,” the young man said, leaning over the table to get closer to Baern. Snapped out of his thoughts, the Carded matched him. “It’s your pick of who to fight, but I suggest you and Kurix take on the woman with the skirt. That’s Estair. Between you and me, the values don’t matter. Judges pick based on who they want. She hasn’t been wowed by any of the competitors yet and, as disrespectful as it might be to say, her memory is very short. If you win, she’ll probably remember and nominate you. I’ll vouch for you, too, though I make no promises.”

Baern nodded. “You’re a good man, Fenly,” he said, deciding that being nice and personable had been the right choice. Not that he had done it solely for preferential treatment; the match between Kite Zero and Stanson really had been an eye opening one, and he could appreciate Dalph’s strategy. “I’ll push for that, but I’m going to let Kurix decide. I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.”

“Completely understand,” Fenly replied with a sage nod. “I’ll leave you to decide. You’re all in.”

“Wish us luck,” Baern said as he placed his papers back in his belt pouch.

<This one!> Kurix loudly announced. <This one, this one!>

The Carded smiled as he felt the excitement coming through their bond. Whoever it was, they had really gotten the Soul Beast riled up. When he glanced over at the team of judges, however, he frowned. Kurix was nowhere to be seen.

<By the stairs!>

Looking that way, he found his partner circling a woman who had just come from the arena. She was followed by a surly looking man in a black and yellow judge’s jacket. He had his arms crossed, an angry look on his face, and quickly headed towards his group.

It became immediately clear that she was a competitor, and a very strong one based on the judge and Kurix’s reaction.

Baern assessed the woman. She was a head shorter than him, with naturally pinkish blonde hair and cold blue eyes. About his age, if a little older. Her black dress was immaculate and lacy, and the white Carded glove she wore ascended all the way to her elbow.

She was probably hiding some sort of auxiliary tattoo connected to the one on her hand. There was a symbol on a prominently displayed hair clip of a pair of antlers with an eye in between them. That made identifying her easy.

Going by her hair and emblem, Baern guessed that she was a member of the Ozella family from Opstin, a city far closer to the empire’s capital than Hewspara. They were well known for their duelists, though the fact that she was all the way out here was curious.

Someone of her prestige normally wouldn’t be seen this far in the lesser lands where the ambient mana wasn't nearly as thick. Hewspara wasn’t in the Lowlands, but it was close.

The woman’s eyes narrowed as she watched Kurix circling her.

<She’s almost an orange core!> he shouted happily. <Not there yet, but she’s so, so close. I want to fight her!>

“A Lunar Reynard?” the noblewoman asked, her voice matching her eyes. She looked down at the fox imperiously before turning to Baern. “You need to get a leash for your mutt.”

<Mutt? What?> Kurix barked as he stopped next to his partner. <Is she blind? I know I’m in disguise, but she has eyes. How can she not appreciate my magnificence?>

“I apologize for him. He’s trying to find competent people to fight and thought you would be a good fit,” Baern said as he reached the two. He leaned down and scratched the fox behind the ears. The fox’s gaze snapped towards him “Kurix, she’s a member of the Ozella family, from closer to the capital. She’s not a judge, so I’m afraid you won’t be fighting her just yet. We’ll be sparring with one of those people in black and yellow jackets.”

The woman hummed, looking him over as she adjusted her hair clip. “I see that my family’s reputation precedes me.”

<Ugh, so she’s one of those,> Kurix scoffed. With an audible huff that earned him a glare, he walked off towards the judges.

“It sure does,” Baern said, offering her a soft smile. “But it looks like you’re already done, so we’ll stay out of your hair. Good luck with the selection.”

“Yes, I suppose one does need a measure of luck in these situations,” Ozella replied, not hiding her disdain for the judges at all as she glanced their way. “Good luck to you, as well. Perhaps your little beast will get what he wants in the ring.”

With a nod that could barely be called polite, she started walking towards the entrance. Baern didn’t stare, but thought about the implications of her presence here. If she was close to breaking out of a red core and into orange, then she might have hopes of entering the Crimson Invitationals at a higher level since only the preliminaries had a power restriction.

<Come on, let’s get this over with.>

With his thoughts interrupted, Baern moved to join Kurix. At the very least, the fox would be able to work out some of his frustration by beating on the locals. That was the Carded’s hope, at least.