[13:22] Surprised yet again, Barca found herself at a loss as Fors was engulfed in the soft, but powerful glow of the stars. Her mind briefly flashed back to Agathe- how she so easily handed Caesar a loss, dropkicking him into a painful defeat.

The fact that the old lady could manage it despite her age still amazed her, and it left a lasting impression.

All the more reason for Barca to fight with every dirty trick she had in the book. It took scant moments before Fors was already upon her, dashing along a cosmic trail of mana. She braced herself, held both arms taut to her chest, and endured, drawing furrows into the ground as she was pushed back.

But as she peaked through the gaps between her forearms, hoping to counter, she saw it: a glowing yellow mass of pure mana, one that hovered silently above the boy. Her field of view narrowed in that brief moment she spent trying to catch his movements.

And she paid the price.

It fell.

Like the sun engulfing the earth, it enveloped her, scorching the crust and blasting through her armor, sending her tumbling along the grass. She rolled, but flew up as though drawn by a tether.

Her chain. Her reels cranked hard as she was drawn up into one of the trees, firing away stone after stone arrow, but even they seemed to pale compared to blue sparks that cracked violently around him. He evaded, shrugged, and pushed through with little effort, closing the distance once more with a rush of cosmic energy.

And a meteor to top it off.

She slipped between the trees, firing chain after chain, pulling herself away to draw distance, but like a comet Fors crashed straight through them, catching her in mid-air. Barca twisted, four limbs twirling as she spun, at first folding wide, then they pressed together as though she was trying for a four-handed clap.

It seemed odd enough- only.

Fors stopped. Pausing in the air, meteor in hand and still incandescent with cosmic force.

He was chained.

It was brief, but she spent every effort, tossing spear after metal spear at him, hurling stones, slinging mud, even, until his aura finally dimmed, and her chains fell loose. They hovered gently like spider-silk, before abruptly pausing in mid-air, firing back into the reels of her gloves and boosts- the metal groaning as they spun back into place.

"Agrien really saved me there." She chuckled- but her face was damp with sweat. Too close.
(Barca Scipio )
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[13:30] A glimmer. A flash. Bolts of energy dance through the field, incandescent beams of cosmic force dragging through the area and incinerating whatever would unfortunately cross its path. Within his soul, and his heart, he held the power of something beyond - within his mind, and his body, he channeled it. He dashes along, endless in pursuit - unwavering, unfaltering. Boots dig into the ground and his path is redirected with haste -

One after another, they fall.

A so-called meteor descends upon the battlefield, dragging after his motion. The trail he'd carved through the land was not for open assault, but for distraction - the gap he closed not to unleash a physical assault, but one of far greater proportion. It lands, striking true - it drags, tunneling through the land with his adversary at the epicenter -

Had he won...?

That moment of questioning paved the path to his defeat. That brief glimmer of hesitation was his downfall. He'd not understood the limitations of Barca's abilities - their earlier words, earlier actions suggesting to him that they were but a simple novice in the art. The attacks they used? The power they wielded? It was not that of a novice, looking to improve upon their foundation. It was that of a careless professional, looking to hone their already great power -

Chains. They connect, they drag, and they bind him. Rocks, stone, and everything in-between collapse upon him and send him sprawling - handing the victory, even if narrowly, to Lady Scipio.

He promptly stood, attempting to regain his bearings - a surprisingly excited expression spreading upon his usually composed features. The adrenaline was pumping now, and that? That was obvious - His attention, now more than ever before, had been gained.

"You had me fooled ten times over, y'know?!"
(Fors)
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[13:47] There are many ways to lure someone into a trap. You can cut off all other routes of escape, leading them to believe there is but one path to take. Or you could suggest, through persuasion or deception, that all other paths are not worth considering.

And even then, it goes deeper.

From the moment she suggested the forest, she had made it clear. She needed every advantage she could get. Under the cover of the night, with nary a star in sight, her chains were practically invisible. And even more than that, it gave her plenty of room to maneuver, conceal, and position both herself and her attacks from her opponent's notice.

As a huntress, the forest was her home. Though bow and arrow were the more famous of tools at their disposal, it was the bait and trap, really, that enabled them to hunt creatures far beyond their strength.

And it was the rope that opened the path.

That was why she felt at ease- and relieved, when she learned that the chain was a metal magi's main weapon of choice. Even though her skill at magic was paltry at best- the tools she had so steadily refined throughout her childhood were not without their worth.

Once more she moved, weaving her web of chains, the harsh clang of metal absent in contrast to the loud clang it sung back in both Agrien's home and on their path to the forest. Another layer of deception. But the moment one's trap was sprung, the moment it was exposed.

Now?

She had to fight directly. She fired stone after stone arrow, drew walls up from the ground to impede his charge, and lured him in carefully prepared angles to seize him with her chains. Fors moved far too quickly for her to snatch him- so she could only make do with traps.

He rushed in, was caught, then suffered yet another spray of attacks. Then, breaking free, he rushed, beating her with both a flurry of cosmic force as well as a multitude of kicks and punches. Her armor held, butfrayed, cracking and splitting open over time, and she had to double back to retrieve her chains for the next trap.

But the longer she fought, the more her tricks were exposed- and the weaker she became. She could only bide her time, be patient, then carefully strike, but his sheer force was far too much. She found herself flung from tree to tree, not through her own machinations, but by the force of his blows.

Light erupted through the forest as the trees split apart, exploding in spray of bark and wood, with Barca tumbling along the grass. She fired arrow after arrow- but they evaporated as they drew close, incinerated by cosmic energy. Fors himself was tattered, body caked in dirt and mud, his hair a veritable bird's nest of grime. Both he and Barca were already exhausted, but Barca's legs were spent.

There was nowhere to run.

He rushed. The grass swayed and withered, as though being strangled. The air hollowed out at the strength of his approach. And Barca?

Barca simply took aim. Irisa. The Eye of the Malachite. She hissed internally, focusing.

And fired.

It was large. She fired a large chunk of stone, one that rapidly shrunk as melted under celestial wrath, but it held, down to the barest of slivers, long enough to strike above Fors' brow and blind him, if only for a moment. And then she swung- punching him in the fist with all the added force of his charge- she could feel her arm up to her elbow cracking, and for a moment, she wished she could die.

But on the other hand, Fors flipped over against her fist, spinning and landing squarely into the ground, beaten.


(Barca Scipio )
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[14:00] There was a certain thrill to it all that couldn't be described by him - not without sounding, at the very least, somewhat psychopathic. A guilty pleasure of his that was shown only in the midst of it all - betrayed by his approach, his endless assault - That smile, that gleeful grin upon his face as he felt his heart beat and his adrenaline surge -

That excitement that was lacking from his normal everyday life, found only in the heat of this.

A strike. Another. Stardust scatters into the wind and disperses, faithful bolts of cosmic essence spewing forth and dancing through the darkness like flickering fireflies before returning to null. Grass, dirt, grime, and muck coat his body and his adversary the same, their skillful maneuvers trailing him straight through the forest and hiding away things he couldn't see until it was too late -

That was just additional practice, though. Another thrill. When would the next come? Could he prepare for it? Could he stop it? Could he save himself? The casual nature of the battle was apparently betrayed by the overwhelming force of their careless and fearless assaults. The attacks, and abilities that were put on display causing him to grit his teeth -

One final mistake. One final lesson.

Under the cover of darkness, he could find but one solace - The twinkling lights of the stars above. Guiding him, and watching eternally the path he'd chosen - watching him learn as best as he did, in the most effective way he could - in the midst of it all. His observations were committed to memory, and Barca's clever way of combat is simply stowed away for recollection -

They fought as he'd expected a hunter would. They, as such, and he, the foolish prey - caught in a web of traps, of mistakes, and actions he'd not comprehended until it was too late. Only through sheer grit, and brute force, could he contest them - and even that fell victim to the odds that seemed to stack against him.

He'd lost. That one final strike, dealt swiftly and efficiently in the heat of the last and final moment they were offered? It was enough, just as his would no likely have been were he to connect. A joyous, boisterous laughter of sorts emits from him as he tumbles, struggling to rise -

In a joking tone of sorts, he simply speaks -

"Ready for Round Three?!"

The joke falls away relatively quickly, though, as he stumbles and simply resigns himself to a sitting position.
(Fors)
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[14:06] Just that laugh alone seemed to sap away all her remaining strength. At first she stood stoic, grimacing, trying not to curse from the pain, but at the request for another round, she simply plops down.

Groaning.

"After all that? You've got to be kidding me." She complained, though she couldn't help but chuckle toward the end. Barca gripped her fist, clutching it against her chest. Nothing was broken, but it was a sudden strain. It would take a bit of time for her to work through it, but it was far from serious. A cramp, if anything.

"Ah. Why are all the kids in the Capital so damn crazy? I can sort of get all the rumors about Caesar when things are like this. I'd boast too, if I somehow kept winning against monster-kids like yourself." She sighs.

It brought her solace knowing she could hold onto some shred of pride- but it only made the Grand Bout feel even more distant. In a place where her tricks were greatly diminished, she had to contend with magi several-fold stronger, at least on the level of an Exarch.

She mused, and worried, as she splayed herself over the ground, hands and legs apart. The reels sat her limbs slightly over the ground though- and it pinched up against her joints when pressed this way, but it was a minor matter.

"If you're really itching for another round let's--" She paused, groaning. "Let's do it in the arena. Fair and square. A bit later, though. My arm is killing me after all."
(Barca Scipio )
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[14:08] Fors says, "Pfft...I'm not gonna make you fight me again."
[14:09] A groan of his own, though he's notably already forcing himself to rise - and struggling -IMMENSELY- at that.

"Need a - "

He nearly trips, pausing for a moment to regain his balance.

"hand?"
(Fors)
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[14:11] Barca huffs a tired groan then steadily, painfully, walks herself back up into a stand.

"Don't worry, I can handle mys-"

She gives a dismissive wave of her hand- then pauses- lips twitching mid-motion.

"Ouch. Now I'm starting to feel a bit old. This is rough." She chuckles, huffing, propping her hands against her knees. "I'll be fine. Let's-" She looks out to the north, back to the glimmering lights that shone through the stoic walls of Osrona, and the endless fields of Messaris that circled around it.

"Let's head back."
(Barca Scipio )
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