LeeRoy

Southwestern Forest

Well, there goes her leg. Honestly this is only the third most painful thing to ever happen to her, and the second most crippling. However, while having previously lost limbs, the pain is still indisputably real. The blade tore a wound in her side as well as cleaved the lower half of her leg rather messily off of her body. Her knee strike was a miserable failure, however, due to Greystoke's grossly contorted form and crouched position she now had a ludicrous advantage.

What the swordsman neglected to react to was the arm right next to his head, as he turned to the right with his blade he had put her hand directly in front of his face. And with his position of being crouched down, and with his body contorted, there is literally nowhere for him to run. It would be impossible, even for Greystoke to move anywhere right now. What with his feet being rooted in place as well.

Jean howled in fury and agony, basically losing her mind on the spot. About the fifth time this has happened to her in the Arena. Her hand opened and she shoved it towards Greystoke's face. While nowhere near as strong as her knee strike, Jean is still physically the most imposing character in the Arena right now.

When this attack connects, Jean's hand will clench tightly around Greystoke's face. Her strength will allow her to crush his head in the palm of her hand, not allowing much time to resist once the initial grapple has taken place.

Should he survive the initial crushing with her hand, she will follow up by falling forward. This is not on purpose, rather, somewhat improvised. As she really doesn't have any say in the matter whether or not she is going to fall over. When she does fall over, she will also force Greystoke to the ground. If Greystoke is pushed to the ground, she will proceed to enact her revenge on him for cutting off her leg.

Southern Red Desert

Since aerodynamics and acceleration are still a thing, the gap between the previous and current bullets still exists. Albeit a small gap, a gap is more than enough for Solomon. With his left leg directly in front of him, it would seem rather inoportune for one to try and evade to his side. However, Solomon slid his left leg outwards to the right and leaned forward, lifting his right leg and pulling it in the same direction. The previous bullets had passed and the second wave was fast approaching.

Solomon would be incapable of escaping the bullets inscathed, however, no wound would be fatal or incapacitating. The two bullets on the far right side of the cross clipped into his side and the upper portion of his calf as he raised it. The bullet that clipped his side undid the strap that holds his hakapik, the hooked blade dropped to the ground and stuck into it. The flesh above his kidney was torn open. The bullet exploded on its way out, tearing a circular wound in his side that exposed the fatty tissue beneath his skin. Blood gushed more freely from the larger wound.

The leg wound was a bit less serious as it only clipped his skin through his pant leg. It ripped the cloth away, tearing a long strip off that went limp as it passed by.

Solomon reached to his waist and pulled off a non-essential strap and tied it around the wound on his side. Applying pressure on it to prevent it from bleeding. It's a shame that this boy had gotten even a single hit on him.

Southwestern Forest

As her arm connected with nothing but air, Jean knew her attack had whiffed over his head. The sight of Greystoke's head sinking downwards was another indication that she had failed, how unfortunate that he was crouching lower, she didn't have the ability to do this when he was upright. The swing of her left arm ceased just above his shoulder, her arm relaxing just slightly. Jean's right foot sank into the ground a bit as she tensed her leg, her left leg lifted upwards with as much speed as she could muster.

The blade began to rip its away across her lungs, shredding her left lung. It snagged on her ribs, breaking them even further, beginning to fill her lung with blood. It spasmed and pain became visible on Jean's furied visage. But instead of letting herself succumb to this pain she clenched her teeth so tightly that her right incisor cracked from the pressure, she refused to cease her attack.

Greystoke's constant dodging would work against him in this situation, as he dropped downwards she too dropped her arm. Not with intent to strike, but intent to box in. Her left leg rose upwards in a vicious knee strike, aimed towards his chin as he crouched lower. With her arm above his shoulders, and her knee coming up towards his chin. He would be forced to find an escape or his head would pop off his shoulders like the cork from a champagne bottle. With her knee being just a deadly a weapon as her hands, this knee strike to his jaw carried more than enough force to kill normal men with a single strike. This knee carries enough force to derail a train, this knee carries enough force to tear Bull Elephants in half.

Should this connect with Greystoke, well, we'll see how tough he is.

Southwestern Forest

Jean was not so foolish to play a risky gambit without some way to follow up, it was honestly rude of Greystoke to presume she would just lie down and die to a single swipe of a blade. In her left hand the fingers loosened their grip on the metal rod. The Rod's momentum transferred into the ground, she twisted her body away from her previous path. The staff slammed to the ground, sending chunks of earth flying away from the impact. Her fingers crunched together into a tight fist, the muscles in her arm tensed and she brought her hand back towards Greystoke. His blade would reach her first, but it would not reach her heart. Her swing's momentum allowed her to push her right foot towards Greystoke, twisting her body even more towards him.

The blade shoved its way through her shirt, tearing a hole in her ribcage just below her breast. It cut into the bone, breaking two of her ribs and punching a hole into her left lung. The pain was excruciating, but her heart had been missed.

As the blade penetrated her body, her swing was still in motion. The back of her hand and forearm were aimed at the side of Greystoke's head, he may have landed a blow on Jean but she too would land a blow on him. The blade's wound was not immediately fatal, but her strikes carried enough force to crush bones with ease. Greystoke would have two options; Try to fare the storm and take the hit, or to back away from Jean's strike.

Southern Red Desert

Two guns, two shots, aimed for the joints of his arm and leg. At least the novice knew that much about combat, something that many novices don't grasp immediately. The bullets flew from the chamber of the gun, chased by the explosion of pressure and heat. The round spun through the air, a trail of vibrating wind chasing behind. Solomon twisted his body only slightly, turning his form 90 degrees to the right, moving both his knee and elbow out of the line of fire. Tilting his body backwards just a little bit to avoid the bullets accidentally clipping his gut or the back of his legs.

The bullets whipped past him, Solomon's eyes traced the rounds as they flew past. When they had safely whiffed him he turned his attention back to the boy, withdrawing his gladius calmly. "I'm not as quiet as you'd think, punk." Across his elderly face a smile grew, revealing his numerous missing teeth. "I'm Solomon Ross, known as the Extreme of Training. Honestly received the dumbest title of the Extremes."

The older man looked down at his feet for a moment, lowering the gladius. A sigh passing his lips as a realization washes across him. "Ugh, I'm realizing you're going to be a nightmare to fight. Hey, can you come over here closer to me so this is easier? Walking down the hill after I just walked up it isn't good for my back."

Southwestern Forest

Well, that was certainly convenient. Greystoke did two things that made Jean's job a lot easier. First of all, he bothered to respond to her. Instead of the whole, instantly replying to her with an attack. Secondly, he asked a question that she generally has to bait out. Saves her the effort of actually carrying on a respectable conversation. She's terrible with people, but you can't quite blame her for that."Well, yes. I am here to kill you, but so is everyone in the Arena. " There was absolutely no distance between them, each was within arm's reach of the other. Just the way Jean liked it.

Before anymore conversing took place, Jean had already achieved her end goal of conversation. Getting close enough to her opponent to strike first without fear of retalliation. Jean's face turned from complacent and relatively emotionless to pure wicked intent. Her right arm shifted, her left arm twisted upwards. The but of the staff tilted upwards into her right hand. Leaning to her right, she shifted all of her weight into one collosal swing of the staff. Its length, weight, and speed at this distance would almost guarantee a hit on a close proximity target. The Extreme aimed the massive rod at his hips, just below his stomach. Aiming to cripple him and finish him with one blow, the intent of this strike was to break his pelvis and rupture his intestines.

Southern Red Desert

It was nothing new to Solomon to see a speedster approaching him at alarming speeds, speedsters are a stunningly commonplace sight in the Arena. Generally they compete with eachother, seeing which is faster. And then there's always this argument that speedsters are unbeatable, which Solomon never really agreed with. Speedsters aren't particularly dangerous to someone who pays attention, it sort of helps that almost every speedster he's ever met is slower than his eyes can percieve.

This one was moving just below the speed of sound, about a hundred or so mph less Solomon assumed. The distance between them snapped closed like the mouth of a snapping turtle, this speedster showed respectable ability, though he was only about twice as agile as Solomon. The elderly man looked down upon him, noticing an incredibly flashy outfit. Gold and satin, not the outfit of a fighter, this was the outfit of an upper-classman. Within a few moments, Solomon had already built an assumption of who this boy was.

Upper-classman taught in 'perfect' fighting form, given weapons he was likely not properly trained in, told that he was special, and let out into the world where he would think that he's a great warrior. The superhuman ability may help him along, but one good look at Leetus told Solomon he was little more than a pest nipping at the heels of real warriors.

And then, oh sweet jesus, and then he spoke. The words that left Leetus's mouth were barely coherent, in fact, Solomon could have sworn he somehow replaced letters with numbers somewhere in that sentence. The monk was stunned, his mouth opened slightly to respond but nothing came out. Solomon's right hand rose up to his lips, he placed his index finger's knuckle inbetween his lips. Not a single word came to his mind that would be a proper response to what Leetus said.

The Everlasting Arena: Main Thread

Just so everyone knows. T.E.A. is an initialism, not an acronym. It is read out as Tee Ee Ayy.

Not Tea.

The Everlasting Arena: Main Thread

With vigor and an excitement unmatched by anyone over the age of thirteen the announcer shouted at the camera, joyously praising the events that he just witnessed in the mountains. The triple kill of Arthur Greystoke was not only the first fight to begin in this year's arena, it was the first three kills of this year's arena. An upstart like this hadn't been seen for the past five years, it was remarkable and Arthur instantly became a fan favorite. Many people tore up their previous bets and placed money on the newcomer with an aloof disposition.

The announcer's excitement roiled over as he spoke to the camera. "This man, Arthur Greystoke, was brought here against his will! Perhaps some god opted to label him as their champion, whatever the reason be he was the best possible choice! In the first match of the Everlasting Arena he fought against the Demon Child Adrian, the Demon Wolf Gregor, and the Dragon Woman Evvie. While the fight seemed to be in their favor at the beginning, a strange cave in caused the fight to shift in his favor!" Footage played of the cave collapsing.

More footage of the snow melting and of his electrical abilities in action. "As you can see he's a manipulator of lightning, whether it's elemental or mystical lighting has yet to be determined. But this power of his allowed him to finish off the trio of warriors within a short period of time. Shorter than most fights in The Everlasting Arena!"

Clips of Adrian being shocked to death from an inside perspective of his sphere, a first person shot of Gregor being cleaved apart. An overhead view of Evvie's impalement. Across the multiverse fans roared about this new warrior, having proved himself so gracefully with little more than a few cuts and bruises he was officially the man to beat.

Inside the Arena those warriors with connections to the outside world would be hearing about Greystoke's astounding victory. "Tell us, dear Viewers! Do you think that Greystoke will be taking home the gold this year? Send us a message via any of T.E.A. linked social media, your comments may make it on the screen and be answered live! And now for a sponsored commercial break."

Southern Red Desert

Iron sands shifting beneath his feet, crunching and sliding with a strange hissing sound. The sound of many particles of metal being pushed together, similar to the sound of snow being stepped on, but more grating. Under the beating sun he marched onwards, one hand behind his back tucked behind his gladius. Beads of sweat forming on his face, soaking his rather bushy eyebrows and his mustache. Solomon rose to the top of a hill, every step carefully placed into the sands to ensure he doesn't slide, from his vantage point he glared over the locale.

Inside of his mind he swore, cursing his stupidity. Of course nobody would come here, not many people have the kind of balance he does. Keeping yourself from slipping into the sands would be an arduous task for anyone else, that's why there's nobody else in the desert. This was the one place where he could ensure victory against inexperienced warriors, he hadn't predicted the inexperienced would just opt to avoid the desert at all costs.

Solomon bowed his head and sighed, shaking his head side to side in frustration."Fiddlesticks and tarnation, can't an old man get a break?"