Lightning crackled, and I slammed down to the floor as I extended my hand up and out against his momentum as my right foot braced against the force field, and I extended to full length to overcome his reach, tuning my whole body into a spear.

The Archer Stands Thrust. I was an Oak and Willow user, so naturally I knew this technique. Triple damage against an opponent charging you if braced.

I had Steadfast and was always braced.

He ran right into it with his throat. Ligaments crunched and tissue flattened as his invulnerability tried to deal with the point of my spear hand.

Four blows came into my head and chest while I was exposed, flattened me against the force field, and then he was retreating urgently, hacking and coughing and shaking his head at the fact I’d nearly torn open his jugular. Even if he didn’t need to breathe, he still needed blood to the brain.

The compounding force of those punches had me seeing stars, and my knees hit the ground off the rebound before I could recover.

“One point to each combatant!” the referee called out, amazed.

I was actually up two to one. Who knew how long it had been since that had happened to him?

My nose was busted, and my eyes were starting to swell. I knew my forearms were basically solid bruises at this point, the adamantium basically saving me from bones that should have been broken long ago... not that my Runebones could break so easily! My ribs, ahg...

I sucked at the blood running down my face and pushed myself to my feet, feeling the spiral of a concussion echoing in the back of my head and balance.

“A good hit,” he somehow growled through the ruin I’d made of his throat, his smile ferocious now, golden eyes almost glowing. “It has been nearly a millennium since I have taken a blow like that.”

“Yeah, well, it only works when you’re charging, sir,” I mumbled. “Care to do it again?” I asked hopefully.

He laughed badly, coughing again, and came in once more.

I had to shift my perceptions to the Kirlian field with the damage to my face and eyes. Our footwork became a blur of position and counter-position as we circled around one another, moving away from the force field, and I cracked the arches of both of his feet with maxed-out Attracts and a widdle-bit-cheaty magnetics hammering my metal-plated feet down atop his.

Then there were stars, and I was flying across the floor again, barely aware enough to Repulse the floor enough to slide along it. A palm slap to the floor got me off the ground, Featherweight took my momentum, and I hit my stance lightly and motionless.

He’d just broken my jaw off its temporomandibular joint, and it was hanging kind of limply. “Point to Champion!” the ref called out. Ah, tied, wonderful.

“Dwenny-six punch combo?” I mumbled as his steps approached warily yet confidently. My head was spinning, but Concentration was still my thing.

“Impressive,” he acknowledged as he drew up in front of me, clearly ready to finish this. “I learned that combination twenty-seven thousand years ago on Biatta Grottio, in a galaxy on the other side of the universe from here. It is called the Ripperfish Swarm.”

“’S verra impressive. Couldn’ dell which wuz duh kill-shod,” I slurred as I raised my hands, bearing down with Concentration. The world became a field of electricity. So unfair I couldn’t let go with all my tricks.

Maybe one day I’d get to fight him outside this arena, but who knew what toys he’d have with him when I did?

“Would you care to surrender?” he offered graciously, but it lacked depth. A true warrior would fight to the end.

“Da chall’ge iz do zee if I ged do walg off ‘ere.”

I could see his faint smile. “Indeed.” My arms came up, and he came in.

Dexterity 50. Reaction times 50x that of a human athlete. Supersonic blows were coming in, and mine were going back into his fists, which now had grey bone showing on his knuckles and fingers.

I wasn’t a Melee or Dragon-user, with a huge variety of attacks and types. Sure, my mundane techniques were pretty damn good at a +12 MAB, but this was not mundane.

Concentration sharpened as I bore down on the wheels and spears and swords of motion, the air pressure buffeting us both, ignored by us both as I held my position, daring him to try to shear my Stance, and he declined in favor of working up another devastating combination of blows.

It was like trying to decipher layered feints, except none of the blows were feints, they were all dangerous. It was just which ones were borrowing momentum and position from the others, so that when they landed-

Sword hand to the side of the neck, sliding in past my blocks of four other blows...

My index finger became an adamantine spear and drove up into his wrist, and then I was flying again, letting my heavyfoot go as I rolled with the impact all I could.

His shout of pain as I punched a hole completely through his thick wrist followed me into the distance as I bounced and rolled and slid slowly to a stop just short of the force field.

My Assay said I had just gone negative Health, and only Toughness/4 was keeping me conscious.

But I had Concentration.

The Dispel washed over me with Silver Magic even as the ref called out, “Third Point and Match to CHAM-PEEE-ONNNN!” in best loyal follower mode.

The energies stopping me from healing were washed away in flares of Silver and lightning as I slowly fed them power.

Concentration again. It was okay, I was only at -33. No issues, save for my broken neck.

With the Mercy, all damage was temporary, anyway, so healing magic would do double.

250 points of Heal became 500, raging through me with restorative power. I lightning-aspected it, so what it looked like was silvery electricity exploding out from me and getting to work on my injuries.

My bruises receded and vanished. My jaw flipped up and reset itself instantly. Creaking ribs lined back up, my swollen arms receded to normal, and the herculean amount of physical energy I had expended swirled up and returned as my fatigue drained away.

I tilted my head, cracked my neck which had been broken, and bounced back upright.

The roars of applause for Champion’s victory went up another five decibels when I hopped back to my feet. I tossed my hair once, gave the staring Champion a deep hand-over-fist bow, and skated off towards the edge of the Arena, basically looking like nothing had happened to me.

And if I added a little hipswing while all eyes were on me, well, this fight was going to earn me some big viewing numbers...

I swung off the arena, Wanda there to greet me, gaping at me a little as I looked completely fine. She put her hands on my face, making sure she wasn’t seeing things, and then shook her head.

“You have some very powerful healing power!” she murmured in disbelief. “Your face looked like it was ruined!”

“As long as my hair was fine,” I replied calmly, and despite herself, she had to smile at me. “How long? I lost track of time.”

“Oh!” She checked the time on the fight. “Seven minutes, twenty-two seconds!”

It was my turn to smile. “Oh, did I just make a LOT of money.”

My odds of lasting six minutes had been one to fifty, which were actually generous. They had expected me to be out of there in five minutes.

Seven minutes had been one to two hundred, and every additional second paid more.

My Galactic Credit account had just swelled three hundredfold. I had set the bet against all my video revenue for the next year, as well as strongarming Stark into betting on me. He was no doubt salivating all the way to the tech trade room right now.

“I did my job,” I patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s watch Ben and Mr. Hill do theirs.”

The Students standing around the arena floor standing guard were careful to get out of my way as we walked towards Ben Grimm and Mr. Hill, who were both waiting in the ringside seats for their turn.

I was going to debrief them on Champion’s capabilities and the tactics he’d used on me. I expected Champion’s playbook was utterly huge and he wouldn’t have to resort to the same things... but then again, Mr. Hill and Mr. Grimm were Earth Avatars, and had different capabilities then I did on the face of things.

Perhaps some people would have found it odd they were both wearing adamantium gauntlets that looked a lot like mine. It basically guaranteed that Champion was going to start his fights against them at higher point, but that was fine. They were ready for it.

------------

Back on the arena floor, Tryco Slatterus watched the young Alchemist female walk away, completely unharmed after all the punishment he had dropped on her, restored to full health in mere seconds after the match was done, including what he was sure was a kill-hit.

He grunted, and half-laughed when he realized she had not offered to do the same for him.

His feet were nearly shattered, his fists had bones jutting through his skin, and his forearms were covered with cuts and holes from her gauntlets. His knee caps were both shattered, and he’d nearly had all the major tendons leading into and out of them severed.

And that last strike, a single finger, punching clean through one side of his wrist to the other. A movement requiring perfect concentration and control.

If his face had been in range, he imagined it would have plunged into his eye instead.

Whatever effect she was using to ensure that his wounds hadn’t healed during the fight abruptly receded, and he felt his natural healing power leap to work, the power of it doubled by the Mercy that made sure nothing that had happened was lethal or permanent in nature.

It would only restore his physical Health, not the ablative forces of luck and cosmic energy that she had also successfully reduced on him, however. The fact that his hands were only being restored slowly was a testament to how much punishment she had administered to them... and the healing was not without its own pain, as bones wriggled through battered and bruised flesh, lined up again, and reformed into an unbroken whole.

With a sigh, he withdrew a small playing card from the back pocket of his trousers. It was from one of the Terran card games, a format he was not familiar with, but this one was imbued with powerful Healing magic.

It had also cost him a lot of credits to buy it from Dealer. Healing magic at this level was rare, and that was from someone who had experience across galaxies.

Credits he had nigh-limitless amounts of. Almost-instant recovery from a fight like he’d not had in centuries was far more important.

With a woosh, crimson hearts from the Card with the A symbol on it rose from it and began spinning around him before plunging into his body.

He felt the energies that normally surrounded and protected him realign and re-energize almost instantly. There was nothing left over to dribble onto his physical injuries, but his status as an Elder was rapidly taking care of those now, his body popping, crackling, and visibly restoring itself to perfection as he hid the pulses of pain that accompanied such healing.

That throat strike had been a thing of perfection. He smiled despite himself as his breathing and circulation were restored slowly to full.

A good fight. If he had taken her seriously from the beginning, it would have been far more in his favor, of course, but where was the fun in that? Everyone knew her first point was because he had not been cautious enough, as seen by him having to raise his game to a higher limit to pound her down.

His confidence faltered somewhat when he recalled that force punch she had brought up on her hand earlier.

If she could truly endlessly turn out blows empowered like that...

Well, such abilities were why he had the rules he did.

He was going to have to buy another Card or two like this off that Terran Caster with the almighty spicy food. That Combicha Ten was still the only thing he could taste...