Several fights had taken place now in the underground. The prison guards were looking for talent, meaning that they were looking for people impressive enough to put up an entertaining struggle for the arena champion. As of now, they had witnessed several fights involving captured Shadow Clan members, captured Dream addicts, and several wanderers from unknown bandits. Some fights were technical, some were physical, and yet all seemed largely unimpressive to the guards. The main thing they noticed was that the fights seemed too human, too resembling of ordinary people that had been placed of an extraordinary ordeal. What the people of the arenas wanted was something beyond that. This was what they wanted to see.
In the next exchange between Issen and the Fakir, several arrows landed on the Fakir's guard, the Fakir shot forward, Issen ducked down to counter. Then the Fakir stepped back and wheeled his Axiom Axe across to counter Issen's own counter. It sliced through Issen's shoulder.
So he's already countering my counter, Issen thought and smiled. He looked at the blood coming from his shoulder and began to laugh. It seems that like the Fakir, to some degree he also enjoyed pain.
The battle continued with the exchanges reaching higher and higher levels of complexities. There would be counters, and then counters of counters, and then counters of counters of counters. Sometimes the intial attack would happen in a single phase, and other times it would be broken up into two or three or even more phases to catch the other person off guard.
They were now both covered in wounds, with the Fakir slightly worse off. However, the Fakir looked completely unaffected. Issen, on the other hand, was now beginning to run out of energy. He knew that he had to finish this quickly.
At that instant, the Fakir attacked again, but now with a higher pace, going almost twice as fast as he did before. Issen knew why the was doing this, it was to deplete the remainder of his energy. Issen could not afford to match this pace. He fell back onto the defensive.
"What's wrong?" the Fakir said, "I want more pain. You haven't given me enough,"
"Yes, yes, you really are a crazy bastard," Issen laughed, "But you know what? It isn't enough. Maybe you love pain, maybe you love suffering, and maybe that makes you stronger. But outside of that, you have nothing else. I can see it. And it's going to cost you in the end."
The Fakir exploded forward at the same high pace, now jumping into each attack. If Issen had tired, and there was no threat of a counter, then he could move forward like this, as he had nothing to fear coming back. He threw several combinations of Axe Attacks. Issen narrowly dodged each one, but he was not a close range combat expert. With the Fakir this close to him, and him having to dodge each attack, he would eventually make a mistake. He dodged one attack, moved backwards, then lost his balance, and that was when the Fakir struck.
In the next instant, the Fakir's axe swung across Issen's stomach, leaving a faint line of red.
This is not good, thought Issen. I need to come up with something now.
He could no longer retreat. The Fakir moved forward, and Issen exploded an Axiom Arrow at close range to blind him. In this moment, Issen summoned an Axiom Blade and the two of them traded at close range. Issen sliced across the Fakir's body. The Fakir missed with his Axiom Axe, but using the momentum of his swing, he slammed his head into Issen's face, breaking Issen's nose in impact and sending him flying across the space.
For the time that Issen flew through the air, he was unconcious. The moment the landed on the ground, he woke up again. He jumped up, expecting the Fakir to attack, but the old man stood in place.
"Thank you for this pain," said the Fakir, "This is the way that I follow."
"You follow nothing,"
"Oh?"
For the first time, the Fakir showed the faintest sign of emotion.
"What do you know of the way that I follow?"
"You think that loving pain is something special? Look at all of us here,"
He stared around at the prisoners and the guards that watched them.
"I know that when you've done wrong in your life, a part of you wants to pay for that wrong. This is why so many become addicted to battle, and to pain, as if they are receiving what they deserve. It's morbid, but I understand it well. But to call it, a path, to call it a way, is nothing more than you falling in love with yourself. You are no monk, or follower of any path, except of yourself."
The Fakir stared at him, and now the muscles around his eyes tightened.
"I have decided now, that I will not give you a warrior's death. I am going to punish you for your words, for the insults you have made towards my faith."
"Is it a faith to mutilate the body that you have been given? Or is it self hatred?"
"I will not speak any more. Now I am going to enjoying hurt you."
From this point onwards, Issen's strategy switched. He stopped using Axiom Arrows, and instead he focused on using ranged Axiom Blades, and Axiom Bullets. Both of these were quicker and required less energy, and in addition to this, Issen completely relied on Axiom Water movements to move around, never staying in place.
The light attacks bounced of the Fakir's shell guard, and he continued forward at the same high pace. The weaker attacks gave him more time to think, and he was trying now to corner Issen and finish him off. It was unlikely that Issen would be able to move around like this for very long. It seemed that the end was approaching.
The Fakir fell to one knee..
He looked behind him, and saw through his back leg, a range Axiom Blade had come through. He had not seen it, but this must have been the essence of Issen's plan.
"Very good," the Fakir said, "You used those lighter attacks to take my attention, and then ricocheted another attack of a wall to hit me in a point where I was not using my defence. This is good pain."
He summoned his energy, and the blade came out of his leg.
"I will make you suffer in the end," the Fakir said, "I will make you feel my suffering."
Issen saw in the Fakir's eyes a resolve, the kind a demon showed as it reached out from the darkness, hoping to grasp at the sunlight.