81 A Duel Between Kings Part 2 (1/2)

After his change of clothes, Corco stepped back out onto the yard to a wind of whispers and gasps within the crowd. Readied for the fight, the chubby little prince appeared with a look much different from what any onlookers would have expected. Many lords in the crowd had thought that Corco would take the chance to run away, leave Arguna in the night and occupy Qarasi Castle before anyone could react. To spite their expectations, the prince marched out, under confused stares, in long, confident strides, towards what many considered his certain doom. However, the lords were not only surprised by his confidence. With his outer clothing and the hidden armor underneath gone, the image of the frail little prince had disappeared as well, his toned upper body exposed. Lean and tough like a puma, like a predator ready to pounce. An appearance only enhanced by the martial tattoos on his arms.

However, there were many more things strange about the new king's entry. For a start, he didn't wear the traditional dueling cloth. Instead of the simple, red robe, his upper body was bare and he wore tight pants with strange, fingerless gloves on his hands. As Corco stepped beyond the viewers, he found that his opponent was already waiting and eager to battle.

Pachacutec himself wore traditional, as expected. Corco couldn't understand why anyone would want to wear what was essentially a bathrobe and underpants to a fight, but in any case, he had made the smarter choice. Still, the massive frame of his uncle made an imposing impression, even more so as the torches behind him threw a giant shadow from the hulking figure, threatening to swallow everything in its path. Corco clenched his fists and looked up to the stars to calm his pumping heart. After a few seconds of meditation, he stepped up into the arena, to his uncle's opposite.

”How surprising you would dare face this great hero, southerner. In an absurd costume, no less. Have those years away from home killed your sense of propriety?”

Corco grabbed his elbows to stretch before he began to bounce around the arena to keep his body warm. He ignored the peacock's grin, who seemed so sure of his victory.

”Can we just get to it? We really don't need to do the whole villain speech.”

”Very well,” the uncle replied as his grin grew wider, ”In this case I would ask Elder Caelestis to-”

”No.” Corco stopped jumping and looked over to the killer and his son.

”No?” Confused, Pacha turned to Caelestis for answers. As always when things weren't going to his plans, he had no idea what to do.

”We're kings now, not mere princes,” Corco answered instead of his elder, ”A member of the ancestral hall has no power over us. The only one with the right to judge here would be one of our own.”

Corco's eyes landed on Amautu's smiling face, and the rest of the crowd followed along. The northern king's smile turned a bit sharper before he replied with a nod.

”This king will be more than willing to lead proceedings.”

With a satisfied return nod, Corco once again picked up his warm-up exercises. Even though they were enemies, he would trust Amautu far more than his childish grandfather. At least he was safe in the thought that the Northern King hated their mutual uncle far more than he hated his southern brother.

Once the prince had hopped over to his position in the arena, he called out ”ready” as he got himself into a fighting stance. His head moved left and right and his fists banged together in anticipation, eyes focused on the mountain of muscle he was determined to overcome. The life he never lived once again returned to his head. He had been an amateur fighter, though not a very good one. Once the depression had taken over, he had given up on the gym training, but the knowledge and skill had been of good use to Corco, who had spent the last five years to further refine his craft. Now was time to see how his advanced techniques would fare against someone of Pacha's size.

”Under the gaze of the stars, lay to rest the conflict between Kings Corcopaca Titu Pluritac and Pachacutec Titu Pluritac. Let honor and blood speak the final verdict and let peace return between the lords.”

The familiar words from Amautu opened the battle. Like a bull, the giant King Pacha's feet had scraped at the ground in anticipation, and just the same, he stormed ahead towards his opponent, his victim. Right fist pulled back, he rushed towards Corco with his left down by his side, carelessly. It was clear to Corco that his uncle expected a fast and easy knockdown. It would be nothing but another proof of his immense superiority.

Corco moved onto his toes and readied himself, keeping an eye on the waist and shoulders of his foe. The surroundings lost their luster as the southern king's focus zeroed in on his opponent.

*Not gonna fail here.*

If the hero's haymaker connected, he would be floored no matter how hard he had trained over the years. He couldn't afford a mistake now.

*A bit more, just wait.*

Finally, Pacha took a heavy step with his left and his waist began to turn, in preparation for a knockout blow. A broad smile was stuck on his face, ready to celebrate his victory, one which would prove once and for all his superiority over the little southern bastard, the man in a child's body, unfit to hold the massive burden of a crown. It would be the beginning of the end for the southerners, even if he somehow survived his onslaught tonight. Pacha had no plans to make it easy for him.

Wait, where'd he go?, the hero asked himself, as his target disappeared out of his sight. He turned to the right, to the side his victim had scurried like a rat. His first swing was already underway. No way to change it now. A miss, no. A humiliation! Next time he would be careful. Next time he would-

With a bang, a sudden fist connected with his left temple. The hit jerked head around and made him lose his train of thought, and his balance. Instead of chasing after the little rat, he stumbled forward in an attempt to keep his balance. With his experience and reflexes to support him, the hero steadied himself and turned. There he was, prancing around like a doe in the forest. How did he hit him? Pacha was unsure, but for now he would have to be more careful. In his infinite grace, he had wanted to make this a quick, painless affair, but that was a luxury which would no longer be afforded to the southern monkey. He would have to take him apart piece by piece, make it slow and painful. Pacha spat on the ground and began to grin again. If this was the bastard's best punch, he could take as many as he wanted.

__________________________

Corco kept moving around the ring, with light, agile steps. His initial gambit had paid off. The careless Pacha had stormed in and been caught by a heavy counter. Still, Corco couldn't erase the frown form his face, just like he couldn't erase his uncle's grin, which had turned demonic under the irregular flicker of the surrounding torches.

The hit really hadn't hurt the hulking mass of muscles. A right hook, well placed on an unprepared opponent, and it didn't even phase him.

*Well, time for plan B. First, Just breathe and move, breathe and move.*

Another attack by the hero, but this time his left was raised to his head, his stance much safer. Corco moved to the side again. Feint left, duck right. Get a hit in, out of range. He could feel his gloves slip off the temple.

*Glancing blow, no good.*

Corco turned to prepare for the next charge, and found himself in front of an avalanche of muscle hurtling towards him.

*Careless!*

He didn't hear the steps over the noise of the crowd! Corco put up his arms for a block. It was all he could do in the split second before Pacha's barrage.