“She is using a sword,” the Elder of the Universe pointed out grimly.

“Yes. She’s somewhere between four and ten times more dangerous with a Sword in her hand, particularly Tremble,” Primus agreed.

More Holos came up around them, showing instances of Sama Rantha in combat, things not allowed to be seen on television.

Sama chewing through armies, bodies flying wildly. Armored men, brutal aliens, mechanized troops, and machines of war sent hurtling in ruin with terrifying thoroughness and energy.

She wasn’t using her Sword in any of them. Primus noticed the honor guards shrinking back a bit at the sight. Yes, those were armored Tallaxians in that vid, being chewed up like rotten mushrooms...

“Like I said, I have never beaten her in open hand combat,” Primus finished. “If you put out this List and she’s not on it, I’m guessing she’s going to take a cut at your ship from way down on Earth to show her disapproval of your common sense, and we’ll see how your Tournament proceeds if she doesn’t want it to.”

The Elder of the Universe took another drink, watching that Sword rise, suddenly down, and a Celestial fall in two.

“She is a Swordswoman.” He said it with quiet authority, and a respect he could not reasonably hold back.

“The sword is an extension of the hand,” Primus added quietly.

“Indeed. Where did she gain that level of power?” Champion asked quickly.

“I have no idea, and she’s not forthcoming,” Primus answered with a shrug.

“And yet, you rank her below the Great Bear,” Champion pointed out sternly.

“To be correct, she ranks herself below the Great Bear,” Primus corrected him. “The Black Bear and White Bear are her sons. Hercules is her student, as am I.”

The muscles and bones of Champion creaked as he shifted position, clearly thinking more carefully now. There was a time to be sexist, and a time to not to be chopped in two.

He was pretty sure she had not killed that Celestial. On the other hand, she also clearly hadn’t put a lot of focus into the sword stroke. It had the flavor of... a casual backhand to the head, telling them to stop sending energy bolts in her direction, idiots.

Chopping the Colosseum in two from down on the planet was totally possible for someone who could do that to a Celestial...

“If someone can charge up during a fight, that is acceptable and a measure of their strength. Charging up ahead of time is no different from an armor wearer, and this is not a contest of energy projection and ranged combat, nor of the ability to fly, although enhanced speed is perfectly acceptable,” Champion went on, clearly conveying the rules of how he would fight.

“You are almost twice the height of an average human. I gather from that you intend to exploit your reach advantage, and so combat morphing is thus allowed?” Primus inquired calmly.

A flicker of amusement crossed the blue giant’s face. “I will concede on that point,” he agreed.

“Non-power armor is acceptable?” Primus went on, and Champion merely gestured. His secretary instantly sent over the terms of the combats with the Elder of the Universe.

Primus read through them all very thoroughly at superspeed. Empowerment by devices was fine, but using powered arms and armor was not. So, no Fists of God or similar devices that enhanced a punch, but Atlas’ Girdle of the Great Titan was allowed. The Juggernaut could wear his armor, as long as it was purely defensive in nature.

“Are counter-proposals allowed, Elder?” Primus asked, finishing the whole list of tournament rules and having no objections to them.

“I will hear them,” Champion replied graciously, waving a full goblet he was favoring. Some other chateau just became incredibly wealthy, Primus mused.

“The most skilled of our martial artists tend not to be our physically mightiest, for the simple reason that they are driven to excel in skill when they don’t have the raw power. I acknowledge that you are looking for those at the top end of both scales, the best of the best... but I believe you are actually more curious about those at the top of the skill scale, rather than those with simple speed or strength.

“Might I suggest, if you’ve the time, expanding the scale of your tournament?” Primus proposed.

Champion looked interested at the idea, as it catered to his obsession. “Go on.”

“One, as for your List... throw the competition for it wide open, before you make your Challenges. You can set your own criteria for the top Ten, top Fifteen, or whatever number you feel is worthy of you, but simply have everyone you deem eligible compete for those positions on their own. The List will fill in itself with whoever chooses to challenge whoever, and they will rank themselves with no need for you to do so.”

Champion mused over that. “True martial combatants will indeed rise to the top in such a scenario, and save us the problem of identifying them,” he agreed after a thoughtful moment. “Assigning a Student as the gatekeeper, and minimum tests of physical ability, is trivial.”

Primus nodded. There was no doubt that the idea of being renowned on a galactic level was going to bring the bruisers out in droves.

“Establish a second tier of combatants, purely for your own observation, but whose criteria is based on skill rather than physical prowess. Both energy projection and grappling, among other things, are forbidden in the contests with you, but those are extremely useful fighting styles. If they are outgrowths of martial styles, and not merely innate powers, they become both useful and necessary, and entertaining enough to watch.

“I imagine you are capable of all the styles of combat that you are not allowing. I am sure you are capable of judging the skills of others at using them.”

Champion considered that as he finished his goblet, and reached for yet another hand cask. The first drink of the scorched bourbon within definitely got his attention, and his secretary made another note.

“You are pressing this point because?” Champion asked after some consideration.

“There is a large population of chi-users and psi-users among Terra’s population. They do not have the raw physical ability of, say, any of your honor guard there, but I daresay they could beat the tar out of them in melee combat.”

“Chi AND psi-users,” Champion repeated thoughtfully, silencing any growls from his guards before they could arise. “It is surpassingly rare to find both disciplines on any given world,” he remarked.

“We have magic-wielders, too, but they tend to be Casters and not warriors,” Primus supplied helpfully. He noted that the four honor guards were a bit wide-eyed at the implication of a single race covering three of the Powered systems of combat... as well as having super-powered individuals!

Of course, our magical warriors tend to be gods or armored sorts, so there is that, Primus thought to himself with a straight face. How many worlds have multiple pantheons sitting around with nothing to do, AND a race of Celestially-empowered Eternals?

“The scale of this Tournament may be somewhat larger than normal, I expect,” Champion commented. “Perhaps you might wish to push it to the next level yet?”

“Competing against other off-worlders, such as your students?” Primus asked immediately, unperturbed.

“Would that be a problem?” Champion asked, clearly a challenge.

“No. Terra needs to wake up and realize that the universe is full of very dangerous beings, and unless we are capable of defending ourselves, that we’re going to get run over.” Even if Sama can cut a capital ship out of the air, she can’t be everywhere, he thought, and nor can the High Guard. “On the other hand, there’s a lot of aliens who need to realize that there’s quite a few humans who are more than capable of defending themselves, so a broader tournament is completely doable.” He folded his hands before him. “The gambling revenue alone would be quite impressive,” he noted, “let alone the broadcasting rights.”

Champion waved that matter away to his secretary, who didn’t even blink despite the astronomical sums involved. All in a day’s work to her, and she would be as good at her job as any of his martial students were at theirs.

Not respecting women martially did not mean he couldn’t appreciate their other talents, after all.

Primus knew there was no need to be greedy, but since Terra was the host and the primary source of entertainment, they definitely deserved a share of the revenue. Who would get that revenue, now, that was a different story. He had a feeling The Hag and The Great Bear were basically going to take it all and allocate it as they pleased, and if people didn’t like it, they wouldn’t dare say it to their faces.

“I assume you will be landing the Colosseum and forming the venue?” Primus asked, and received a casual nod in reply. “Do you have a landing site already picked?” he inquired.

“We generally leave that to the host world,” the secretary trilled smoothly. Another test for them, as logically every balkanized nation on Terra would compete wildly for the chance to host a tournament of such scope.

“If I may make a suggestion...”

--------

I watched the Colosseum come down on the plains of Texas with pretty much most of the world. The flying arena was a good two miles across, the massive dome could swallow every arena on Terra put together, and seat millions of watchers while multiple bouts of any and every kind could take place in the fantastically adaptable rings within.

The land outside of it simultaneously became the biggest parking lot, space port, and airport in the world. The Tribes got it all into place with literally magical speed, and soon people and supplies were pouring into the great ship from both on and off-world, as the denizens of the universe were arriving and naturally wanted to sample all the local delicacies as they did.

Anything that was favored by Champion instantly became a literally galactic best-seller on the spot, and chefs, produce, and meat from all over the world were being flown there to show off their cuisine. It was the greatest marketing surge in human history, and would echo across the galaxy and beyond for a long time.

The contestants were arriving the same day the ship landed, and the tiers were going up as they did so. Humans and superhumans arrived, rubbed shoulders with some very proud and interested aliens of all kinds, and test bouts were already going up.

--------

En Sabah Nur glowered at the heavy-lidded blue alien on his screen. “How did you reach me?” he demanded, and received a dismissive wave in return.

“Your Celestial technology was easy to locate,” the Elder of the Universe replied casually, as if it was no matter. “I am extending an invitation to Apocalypse to compete in my tournament.”

En Sabah Nur frowned, the motion exaggerated with his instinctive shape-shifting. “I have neither the time nor the patience to indulge in paltry entertainment for the masses,” he replied sharply, ready to cut off the communications link.

“Oh, I see.” The pure arrogance and danger in the words stayed his hand stiffly. “I shall make it known among my Students that there is a denizen of the planet Earth that thinks he is too mighty to face the Champion of the Universe in honorable combat.” Apocalypse’s face faltered despite himself. “They are a proud bunch, my students, and those that have fought me. Quite eager to test themselves against those who think I am not worthy of their time. I estimate you will have nigh unto a hundred thousand challengers finding their way to your door within a year.”