And standing across from him, about thirty feet away, was crimson_shower.
She looked even more striking in person—if "in person" was the right term for virtual avatars. The cream and gold gown flowed around her as if caught in a gentle breeze that didn’t seem to affect anything else in the environment. Her brown horns curved elegantly from her temples, catching what little light there was and seeming to glow faintly. Her face was beautiful but cold, her expression utterly neutral as she regarded him.
Jelo, with his teddy bear head and plain white clothes, suddenly felt extremely out of place and underprepared.
He decided to try being friendly. Maybe establish some rapport before they tried to beat each other senseless. "Hey," he called out, raising one hand in greeting. "Thanks for accepting the match. This is my first fight, so—"
"Are you here to make friends or to fight?" crimson_shower interrupted, her voice sharp and cutting through his attempt at pleasantries.
Jelo blinked, his teddy bear head somehow managing to look taken aback.
Before he could formulate a response, crimson_shower shifted into a fighting stance. Her feet spread slightly, her weight balanced, her hands coming up in a guard position. Her eyes locked onto him with laser focus, all traces of that neutral expression replaced by intense concentration.
The message was clear: talking time was over.
Jelo glanced desperately toward where Mira was sitting in the spectator area, visible as a semi-transparent figure on the edge of the arena. She caught his look and just shrugged helplessly, giving him a "good luck, you’re on your own" expression before settling in to watch.
Great.
The match countdown appeared: **[3... 2... 1... FIGHT!]**
Crimson_shower didn’t waste a single second.
Her hands moved with practiced precision, drawing a blade across both her palms in one smooth motion. Jelo expected to see weapons appear, but instead he watched in horrified fascination as thin lines of blood floated upward from the cuts.
The blood didn’t fall. It rose, defying gravity, lifting away from her skin and hanging in the air like crimson ribbons. She shaped them with subtle movements of her fingers, the blood responding to her will, twisting and coiling and forming into sharp, dangerous tendrils.
Blood manipulation. Of course. That’s what "crimson_shower" meant.
She snapped her wrists forward with sudden violence, and the blood lances shot toward Jelo like living blades, whipping through the air with deadly speed and precision.
Jelo reacted on pure instinct, the muscle memory from his real-world fights kicking in even in this virtual space. "Scaled Guard!" he shouted, activating the ability.
His skin hardened instantly, transforming into shimmering dragon scales that covered his entire body—or at least the human parts of his body; the teddy bear head remained unchanged, which created a bizarre visual contrast.
The blood tendrils struck him like whips, each impact creating a sharp crack of sound. But the hardened scales held, the attacks splattering harmlessly across his defensive layer without penetrating. Blood droplets scattered in the air before dissolving into particles of light—apparently the game’s way of handling biological material cleanup.
Crimson_shower’s eyes narrowed slightly, reassessing him. Not a complete beginner, then.
She didn’t give him time to feel proud of that successful defense. She immediately began circling, moving with fluid grace despite the restrictive-looking gown, her remaining blood curling behind her like crimson ribbons trailing in her wake.
She darted in from an angle, trying to catch him from the side where his guard was weaker, her blood forming into a blade-like shape aimed at his ribs.
But Jelo was already moving.
"Wingburst!" he called out, activating the dash ability he’d unlocked from defeating Garin.
The burst of speed was incredible. One moment he was standing in a defensive position, the next he’d crossed ten feet in the blink of an eye, slipping past crimson_shower’s attack completely. The blood blade cut through empty air where he’d been standing a fraction of a second before.
Jelo used the momentum from his dash to launch his own attack. His hand came up, energy gathering around it in a familiar pattern as he channeled the Dragon Claw technique. "Dragon Claw!"
The glowing projection of a massive claw shot forward, aimed directly at crimson_shower’s ribs, seeking to capitalize on her overextension from the missed attack.
But she was fast too.
Crimson_shower twisted her body with impossible flexibility, simultaneously pulling her blood back toward herself. The crimson liquid reshaped rapidly, forming into a shield of hardened blood that materialized between her and the incoming Dragon Claw.
The claw projection struck the blood shield with tremendous force. The shield absorbed some of the impact, cracks forming across its surface, but it wasn’t enough to completely stop the attack. The remaining force transferred through, and crimson_shower was sent sliding backward across the ground, her feet leaving trails in the dirt as she fought to maintain balance.
But she recovered quickly—far too quickly for Jelo’s comfort.
As she slid backward, she pulled more blood from the cuts on her palms, and even more disturbingly, she seemed to be drawing blood from the dirt itself where drops had fallen during the earlier exchange. The crimson liquid rose up like it was alive, responding to her call.
She shaped the gathered blood into dozens of needle-like projectiles, each one sharp and deadly despite being made of liquid. With a gesture, she sent them raining down toward Jelo like a crimson hailstorm.
Jelo raised his arms defensively, his Scaled Guard still active, blocking the first wave of blood needles. They struck his hardened skin and shattered, unable to penetrate.
But the second wave came immediately after, before he could reset his stance or reinforce his defense. And this time, they caught him in the brief moment between when his scales were recovering from the first impact and when he could harden them again.
Several needles struck home—his shoulder, his side, his leg—each one creating a sharp burst of pain. It wasn’t real pain, he knew that intellectually, but the game’s neural interface simulated the sensation enough to make him gasp and stumble.
Jelo leaped away using Wingburst again, putting distance between himself and crimson_shower, giving himself space to recover and reassess.
They paused for just a moment, circling each other, both breathing hard—or simulating breathing hard—evaluating their opponent with new respect.
Then they moved simultaneously, closing the distance, meeting at close range.
Her blood formed into blade shapes that clashed against his Dragon Claw projections. Each impact created bursts of red and gold energy, the collision of their abilities creating a spectacular light show.
They traded blows rapidly—her slashing with blood blades, him countering with claw strikes, both of them dodging and weaving and trying to find an opening in the other’s defense.
The fight was fully engaged now.