"The bets are in!" The announcer bellowed to get the crowd's attention. "Fighters, get ready for combat!"

Walter and Jet, who had been sizing each other up, each settled into their respective fighting stances. Walter had his arms relaxed and his eyes seemed to unfocus. His feet were his shoulder length apart and his knees were slightly bent. Overall, he seemed entirely relaxed and almost dissociative. Jet on the other hand had his hands raised and in line with his shoulders and Walter's chest. He had drawn a line with his front foot's toes in the mud and stopped with almost his entire weight on his back foot. His hands were open like he was ready to chop or smack with them. His eyes were entirely focused on Walter's gaze that seemed to be staring through Jet's chest and into the middle distance.

"Fight!" The announcer called out and neither fighter moved.

Walter only seemed to relax even further as any semblance of tension bled from his upper body with one exhale. Jet inched closer as he realized that Walter was entirely content with waiting for him to make the first move. Jet inched closer again and again until their knees were in each other's kicking range, Walter hadn't moved. Isaac instantly felt like Walter was a viper hiding in the grass waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Jet brought his front foot in and brought his full weight on it as he twisted and threw a spinning back heel kick towards Walter's head. Jet's back foot sped up as it moved throughout the motion of the spinning back heel kick. What was immediately apparent was that there was some 'monk strangeness' at play. His foot moved in an absolutely perfect golden ratio spiral as the world itself seemed to will it to move faster and faster.

Walter shifted his weight onto his back leg, bent his knee, and leaned away from the kick just enough for the tip of Jet's boot to miss his nose by half an inch. Mud was flung from the incredibly fast movement and some of it splattered across Walter's side and face but he didn't even flinch from the cold wet ground that suddenly clung to him.

Jet's momentum seemed to stop cold as he reached the end of his kick and he froze at the point where his heel should have finished plowing through Walter's face. Walter's hands shot up and grabbed onto Jet's ankle as he stepped forwards and planted his foot on top of Jet's supporting foot. Jet would have immediately been pushed off balance if he hadn't bent his leg as Walter pushed forwards.

Jet's arm swung out in a back fist that followed the exact same golden spiral as his kick had. Once again, Walter leaned just barely enough out of the path of strike to avoid getting sent to the infirmary. Each of Jet's strikes reached such ridiculous speeds by the end of their spirals that Isaac had no doubt that they would've shattered bone like dried sand. Jet shot his leg, which was still in Walter's grasp, out with all of his strength in an effort to kick Walter in the shoulder and force him off of Jet's supporting foot.

Walter guided the kick upwards so Jet's foot went screaming past his ear and shoulder and hit nothing but open air. As he did so, Walter twisted and brought his shin into the back of Jet's supporting leg. Jet's knee crumpled and the monk was forced to catch himself with his hands to keep from getting a faceful of mud. Fortunately for Jet, the multiple awkward movements in a row caused his foot to slip out from under Walter's so he could finally extricate himself from the brawler's immediate zone of influence.

Jet twisted and flipped sideways in the air to land on his feet a few feet away from Walter. Jet eyed Walter warily. "You have been fighting for many years, have you not?" Jet questioned the elf in front of him.

Walter took a casual step towards Jet and then slipped, weaved, and dodged Jet's next palm strike, back fist, and kick in kind. Walter made one quick knuckle strike to the inside of Jet's calf right above where his boot ended and then stepped in while making an elbow attack at Jet's ribs. Jet was forced to take the attack with his open hands and was shoved backwards a few steps.

"Yes." Walter replied and then moved in to continue his lesson on humility for the young martial artist from across the sea. Jet's every kick, punch, back fist, and chop was met by one narrow escape after another as Walter refused to let any of Jet's attacks even brush against his skin. Each movement was so perfectly calculated that the fight looked reminiscent of the sword dance that Lenna had taught Isaac. Well, it did on Walter's side. Jet was forced to block attack after attack as Walter expertly abused every opening in Jet's guard and the monk's golden ratio based fighting style had many of them.

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"If even a single one of those attacks had landed, Walter would have been out already." Lenna told Isaac.

"Life force shenanigans?" Isaac wondered. He vaguely remembered the terms qi and chakra but the words themselves were giving him a bit of a headache for some reason.

Lenna nodded. "Yes." She replied. "It would not surprise me if the strikes forced whatever they hit to continue on the spiral's path."

Isaac winced as he thought about getting his shoulder sent in an escalating spiral outwards from his opponent without his body wanting to come along or him having any say in it. "Ouch." He commented. "I must admit, Walter is a lot better than I initially thought."

"He needed a skilled opponent to truly shine." Lenna agreed.

"I want to fight him next." Isaac told her.

"You are sure that he is going to win?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Isaac couldn't see her raised eyebrow because her helmet was in the way but he could picture it clearly enough. "Jet seems to be holding up quite well."

Isaac nodded. "Look at Jet's eyes." He told his wife.

Lenna did as he had said and nodded in understanding. "He is losing the will to fight. He isn't taking any damage but it is clear that Walter is just better than he is."

Isaac nodded again. "Even though Jet doesn't really look tired, and Walter looks like he is breathing kind of hard, everyone knows who the real winner is."

Jet broke off from his string of attacks and blocks. He looked straight into Walter's eyes that still weren't really focused on anything in particular. "Who taught you how to fight?" Jet wondered.

"Originally? A human around a hundred and fifty years ago, give or take." Walter replied. "He only taught me for a few years, I learned the rest myself. In places like this."

Jet nodded and then stepped back so his heels were directly next to each other. He brought his hands together and bowed towards Walter. "It appears that I still have much to learn. Thank you for humoring this young monk." Jet told Walter with an easy smile.

Walter stepped forwards so he was standing facing straight towards Jet. His eyes seemed to refocus and he planted his right fist in his palm before he closed his left hand over his right fist and he gave Jet a much shallower bow. "Of course. That is what an arena like this is for." Walter told him. "You should still fight the champion later. I am sure that you will be able to beat the one that I cannot."

Jet's eyes widened slightly and he gave Walter another bow. "I will try." Jet promised him. "Thank you for the praise and confidence."

"What kind of ending was that?!" The announcer exclaimed. "It was an even match the entire way!"

"I'm going to fight him." Isaac told Lenna. "No magic or anything so it'll be fine."

"What do you think your odds are of winning?" Lenna asked. Isaac was unsure if she was planning on betting on him or just curious.

"Fifty five, forty five, in my favor." Isaac replied. "I'm a bit stronger and faster than him, I think. I'm not sure which of us is actually better at fighting though."

Lenna didn't say it at the time, but she was decently sure that it was not Isaac. Isaac was undoubtedly a master at hand to hand combat but the way that Walter moved was just beyond what anyone could achieve in a short twenty year lifespan. Talent and technique could only get him so far, Walter was the one with copious amounts of experience. Isaac just had a bit.

"Do we have any other challengers?! This is the last call before the rematch between our Champion and the cowardly runner up! Will he stay and face his only loss!? Or will he run for the inn once again!?" The announcer went on. It was clear that he was trying to keep the crowd happy more than he was actually trying to keep the show moving. If Walter fought another fight before he fought whoever the champion was, there was no way that he would not be winded before the fight even began.

"I will." Isaac said just barely loud enough for it to be heard over the clamoring crowd. He started walking towards the fence that separated the arena from the rest of the coliseum. As he did so, Isaac disconnected each piece of his armor from the rest of it, grabbed each piece, and then pushed them into his Inventory, under his cloak, without even taking them off. One by one, the pieces vanished until he was wearing just his regular clothes, under armor, cloak, shin-guards, and boots. By that point, he had already vaulted the fence and was standing half a dozen feet from Walter.

"We have another challenger! This one is an unknown! He has not registered with us and is not able to receive prize money but that doesn't appear to be a problem for this young battle junkie!" The announcer went on.

Isaac took off his cloak and dropped it into his shadow where it vanished into his Inventory with the rest of his gear. "I'm Isaac." Isaac introduced himself.

"What a magic trick! Do we have ourselves a mage on mage fist fight!?" The announcer continued. "This might just be a first in the arena! Who knew mages liked to throw down like the rest of us!? I sure as hells didn't!"

"Walter." Isaac's opponent replied. "No magic."

Isaac nodded. "I am aware." He told him. "I fought with my fists long before I fought with magic anyway."

Walter grinned. "Likewise."

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