The day wore on, and Enzo found himself moving into the main stadium along with the majority of the crowd. Minali’s Great Tournament was, of course, the big draw of the festival and as evening approached the lights began to come on and the stadium filled. Enzo himself had a surprisingly decent seat about halfway up the stands but in the center of the oval. The Hikari Duelist sat back and enjoyed the pre-fight entertainment, watching as a pair of unfamiliar bands exchanged places in the center of the venue, and as a troupe of high flying aerialists flipped and flew across high wires and between swinging trapezes. 

By the time the tournament began, Enzo was happily sipping on some drink or another, feeling content and energized by the almost electric excitement in the crowd around him. Being on this side of things was something that hadn’t happened in a long time, and he found it brought back not only happy memories of his childhood but a youthful exuberance he hadn’t felt in years. 

Even the screeching entrance of the first competitor could do nothing to tamp down his anticipation. Dramatic entrances and the like were nothing new to the Duelist, of course. Those involved in the Leagues back home were considered celebrities, and many played to the fans and the sponsors in a variety of dramatic ways, from the flashy to the macabre. For Enzo, the woman - Hisame the announcer said - was just one of those on the darker side of things in taste. Certainly not his own style, but he could see the attraction for some. 

Meanwhile, the woman’s opponent was entering from the opposite end of the sandy fighting ring. He was a big man with skin of vibrant blue and close shaved hair of bright white. A Calibani, if Enzo didn’t miss his guess. The man took a decidedly different tact in his entrance than Hisame did, practically leaping into the area with an upward thrust of both hands. This was evidently a signal because pyrotechnics shot into the air on either side of the well muscled gladiator. 

“Oh my folks, here he is! Jobal Huin, the champion mixed discipline fighter all the way from Caliban. A master of submission moves and a self-proclaimed expert at defeating armed opponents with nothing but his bare hands.” 

Jobal Huin danced and strutted forward, waving to the crowd and hooting. He was a showman, to be certain, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a competitor. The mid-thigh length shorts, ankle high boots, and forearm covering arm bands did nothing to disguise the muscular nature of the blue-skinned fighter. This was a man who knew his way around a gym, and had the product to show for it. Jobal was six and a half feet of blue skinned muscle and he was now turning his full concentration on Hisame. 

“Alright folks, here we go. Let the Fifth Annual Minali Great Tournament begin!” 

Green lights flashed around the lip of the arena and the crowd erupted in excited cheers. And as the sun slipped away unnoticed in the evening sky, Jobal Huin rushed forward towards Hisame, intent on relieving her of her sword and claiming an easy victory over the small woman.