Come at me, Fitty — Troll
Fitty ran toward Troll at the same speed as before, but now she seemed to be counting her steps and movements to maintain that same speed without exhausting herself as much. From Troll's point of view, as he observed everything before reacting, it was as if she wasn't tired at all.
"How can she still be this fast in that condition… Focus. It doesn't matter right now. If I push my vision just a little more, I'll still be able to follow her movements for a while."
Troll's pupils grew even thinner. The veins in his eyes bulged visibly.
The moment they came within each other's range, Troll reacted first since her movements looked almost slow to him. He was ready to punch her in the face, but she ducked low and dashed to his right with even longer strides, circling him while kicking up sand and surrounding him in dust.
"She's blocking my vision… If I push it… I can't… My eyes are already at their limit."
At that moment, his pupils stopped being thin and vertical and turned round again, the green threatening to return to his eyes as blood streamed down from his tear ducts.
"If this is my limit, I won't be able to see her movements like before. What do I do now?"
— Her gaze changed… She looks more focused. — Neale commented from the stands as he watched the fight.
— I can't even tell who's going to win this. — Luan added while his sister remained wrapped in his arms.
— All we can do is watch. — Kilay
When the dust around Troll rose high enough, Fitty appeared running low from his blind spot and struck him with a punch to the chin. He couldn't even react before she vanished again into the curtain of sand she had raised.
When he turned to look for her, a kick came from behind. As he tried to rise, her knee smashed into his face. He was being turned into a punching bag without managing to react.
"Think, Troll. At this rate you're going to lose. If I can't follow her movements anymore, then what do I do?"
That was when he decided to give up his sight. He closed his eyes and began flicking his tongue in and out repeatedly like a snake. When she appeared above him, ready to deliver a finishing kick, it nearly connected—but at the last second he grabbed her ankle before her foot touched him and yanked her down, slamming her back against the arena floor. Even then, he kept his eyes closed, still moving his tongue like a snake.
"How? He… caught my kick without even seeing?"
"It worked. I can see… It's like a huge black screen, but I can see. I can trace the outlines—the silhouettes of everything around me—seconds before they reach me."
Fitty sprang back to her feet without giving her body time to process the impact and rushed him again, throwing the fastest punches she could before stopping to catch her breath. He dodged some of her strikes, but always at the very last second.
"The only visible problem is that with this way of seeing, I can only 'see' when my tongue is out. So if I want to win… I have to…"
In that instant Troll moved so fast that for a brief second all that could be seen was a streak of green light from his scales.
"Go to the edge of the limit—and jump."
— Aaaah! — Troll suddenly closed the distance between them almost completely.
"Damn, I still haven't caught my breath." — Fitty
— Since we're close again, why don't we interlock hands? — Troll
— I'll pass. — Fitty replied, pulling her hand out of his reach.
The moment he noticed, he shifted the bones in his forearm back into muscle, and when his forearm struck her wrist, the sound cracked like a whip, squeezing it until the bone popped.
"This hurts. Second time with the same arm. But that doesn't matter now. I just have to hit." — Troll
They began trading punches to each other's faces while Troll gripped her wrist tightly. She managed to dodge some of his punches during the seconds when he couldn't see anything, but he chose not to dodge at all—he focused only on striking.
"How is he hitting me? What am I not seeing?" — Fitty
As she thought, took hits, dodged, and struck back, Troll's arm suddenly released her wrist when his bones shifted back. As his arm returned to normal with an audible crack, they both threw a punch that sent each of them flying in opposite directions.
Fitty got up first. She was bleeding, and her wrist was even more marked than when he had wrapped around her other arm earlier.
— I understand now… Only at the end… You were seeing somehow using your tongue… tracking me… like a snake… — Fitty
When it was his turn to stand, he couldn't move his arm. His tongue was almost fully human again. Some of his scales had fallen off, replaced by bleeding wounds, and visible steam rose from the pores of his body. When he opened his eyes, their normal green had nearly returned. Their breathing was so loud it echoed off the arena walls.
— Come on. — Troll said, wiping the dried blood-tears from his face.
They approached each other slowly, like they were learning how to walk, then accelerated as much as they could. As Troll got close, he spun his body to use the arm he could no longer move like a whip while attacking with the other.
They both froze after landing their blows. Fitty had her fist buried in Troll's stomach, while his strike had grazed her. Silence fell over the arena. The only sound was the loser collapsing onto his back.
— As long as the loser is still conscious, I cannot declare the match over. Finish it, or you're both out. — Instructor
Fitty walked toward him until she was close enough. He lay there on the ground, breathing with even more difficulty.
— I'm sorry for this, Troll. — she said, holding back tears.
— It's… okay… If… you… make it… bring your family here… safe…
She raised her trembling fist, trying to think of any other solution—but there wasn't one. Not in that place.
— I can't watch. — Neale
— Don't look away. Soon it'll be us in that position. Watch carefully. — Kilay
— Just do it. — Troll replied, smiling.
She threw the punch as hard as she could, knocking him out quickly.
— The winner advancing to the next stage: Fitty Loundsen! — Instructor
— I declare before these witnesses that both competitors will receive first aid and proper treatment. After treatment, the loser will be thrown outside the gates of Kirden. — Instructor
As the instructor spoke, medics entered the arena, separating them and clearing the space. She watched as they carried him away unconscious, tears streaming from her eyes.
— Group Twelve, please choose among yourselves the next competitors. You have thirty seconds starting now. — Instructor
Group Twelve stood in shock, faced with another decision to make.
Richard vs. Neale
Nuke vs. Vitel
Kilay vs. Lira
Luan vs. Luna
Who would be the next to step into the center of that arena?