The Trial of Peace Top 16 Round - Bael VS Dosu

Finally, it was his turn to shine! After spending a good amount of time watching the preliminaries, the poor Dosu had gotten antsy for some action himself. The past month or so had been a good time to recuperate and, following the lack of action during that entire month, he had grown a little rusty. The Heran was a capricious one when it came to fighting. When faced with a dangerous situation he can conjure up strength well beyond what would be normal for him and, on the contrary, should he find himself in too cozy of a situation, then he gets lazy beyond belief.

Life on Namek had been especially good for a while and despite his willingness to get into the fight, he was far from his peak condition, physically speaking. As his name was called, many cheers echoed throughout the crowd. Of course, given his past deeds he was now renowned as an ally of Namek -despite him thinking he hadn’t done much at all- and as such, his name had spread amongst the community. To those uncertain whether they should be cheering or not, Dosu simply thought they needed a little more convincing.

He jumped onto the stage, sporting a Namekian outfit, complete with a sleeveless gi and a white headband, the fabric of which dangled on the side of his head.

His opponent was an individual on the smaller side, carrying a large blade with him. Though he had been warned that weapons were allowed, it was hard for him not to think this was not cheating in any capacity. See, the Heran was familiar with fighting tournaments in his home village, but nobody brought actual weapons with them, even if they were proficient with them. Bael was courteous, at least, but in this fight, there were no friends!

“Hah! Don’t wish for my victory so early. Everyone knows I’m the best man!”

Yeah, a fair bit of cockyness that surely wouldn’t bite him in the ass later. As Bael would charge up his attack, the Heran watched, curious to see what he would do with the sword. Apparently, he could use Lifeforce energy to channel it into his weapon, a feat he had never seen before.

“Woah.”

As he plunged it into the ground, the Heran saw his opportunity to launch his offensive, dashing towards his opponent. A giant blast of energy was launched towards his face, which he promptly dodged by letting himself fall onto his back, rolling back towards Bael and pushing himself up with one hand while delivering a downward kick at his opponent’s head. The movement was fluid and agile, very characteristic of Dosu.

Standing on his hand, he looked up at Bael and said:

“Watch out!”

Before blood would rush to his head, he would push himself off the ground, doing a few backlips mid-air. As he dropped back down, he went for a sidekick to the Tuffle’s face, landing on his feet and creating some distance by stepping back. He hadn’t lost sight of the weapon planted into the ground.

“Hehe.”

He sure couldn’t be as flashy as most of them with their fancy techniques, but he’d try to make up for that in spirit and agility.

As he was stepping back, Dosu’s eyes widened as the energy javelin was launched from the Tuffle’s wrist, coming straight at him. Perhaps he had hoped to break his focus by complimenting him, but the Heran knew better than to be tricked by flattery. It was when the sword flew by itself and came for his back that he felt like he had been cornered. It was Dosu’s fault for thinking that tournaments all over the universe were similar. Back home, since weapons were prohibited, it was a lot more straightforward, aside from the nerds and clever strategists setting up their moves.

While it was an awful habit of his to take pretty much everything head-on, this time he vowed to be more careful and concentrated! Since there would be multiple rounds, taking too much damage would eventually become problematic and he couldn’t have the Namekian mystics all over him with their healing abilities between rounds.

Letting himself fall on the ground would take too much time and jumping above left him at risk of a counterattack. His best option, at this moment, was to parry both attacks at once. He raised both arms and with soft, fluid movements, took the energy beam with one-hand, feeling the stinging shock at first, but managing to redirect it into the arena where it would leave a small crater after impact. Simultaneously, he managed to place his palm on the flat side of the sword and push it away from him.

Keeping track of the weapon in the back of his mind, he took a second to look at his hand, the damage was minimal, but still enough to make little cuts in its palm. Bael had drawn the first blood.

“That’s some clever tricks. Too bad I have nothing to show in return.”

At least, nothing similar to that. His specialty was close quarters and that’s precisely where he would take the fight. He ran towards Bael once more, but not without dabbling in a little foul play himself. As he got closer, he swung his bleeding hand palm facing towards Bael at eye level, hoping to send some droplets of blood straight into his eyes. Whether or not that would work, he would then drop to the ground and go for a low sweep.

If that part worked as he wanted it to, he would compliment it with an uppercut to the chin, in the hopes of sending him flying upwards and down to the ground.

‘I need to keep track of that weapon of his while fighting him. I also don’t know if he has any other tricks up his sleeve. What an annoying matchup…’ he thought to himself, after briefly analyzing the situation.

“You seem adept at using Lifeforce attacks but are you trained in martial arts?” he asked. Maybe that would give him an idea of what to expect.

Dosu’s uppercut almost made contact before it was stopped by a sphere of neon green energy. A shame, since his little scheme had almost worked in its entirety. He took it as a sign to retreat as he did not know what that technique exactly entailed and he didn’t want to be caught off-guard.

Dosu could relate to Bael’s motivations and upbringing. Both of them lived in an unforgiving world, far from the cozyness most races had. However, his fighting style was not self-taught. Perhaps this would work to his advantage, so long as he was able to pull those techniques off properly.

“I see we are not too different. My people prides itself on our customs and traditions. We stand strong against a world that would see us buried for the sake of advancement and progress. So, guess what? We just show everyone how we endure and stand the test of time. Herans have forgotten their roots and we’re their reminder that they’ve given up on the best!”

After wiping the blood in his eyes, Bael motioned with two fingers, calling out something. Seeing nothing happening at that moment, Dosu’s brain automatically defaulted to the sword he had parried. Digging his heel into the ground, he spun around to face it, but with it being emboldened suddenly, he had close to no time to react to the sudden attack.

‘Shit, no time to move…’

In a non-intuitive Dosu fashion, he extended his hand to grab the blade. He did, but with his bleeding hand, causing his grip to slip and allowing the blade to continue its course, cutting his fingers even deeper as they ran along the blade.Moving his body, the blade pierced his abdomen, thankfully not touching any vital area. To keep it from reaching too far, he grabbed it with his other hand, bringing the flying weapon to a halt.

Gasps of concerns could be heard in the crowd, with most watchers wondering if they had just witnessed something terrible. Of course, this was not knowing the man known as Dosu. He pulled the blade out of his body, blood squirting out of the wound. Dropping the weapon, now with both hands bleeding, He turned back to face Bael, a streak of blood running down from his mouth to his chin.

“I got careless right there.”

Thankfully, feeling no pain meant no loss in focus. There was only frustration at himself for getting struck like that.

“And I underestimated you.”

Subconsciously, of course. It would be a hard-earned lesson for him.

“BUT WHO CARES? NOW I’M FIRED UP!”

He took a stance, unfazed by the damage he had just suffered.

“Now, let's see whose upbringing made them the toughest!”

Perhaps even faster than he ever did before, Dosu dashed back at his opponent. If he wanted to get to him, he would have to go through that barrier of his. Coincidentally, he had the perfect technique for that and it was time to put his clan’s martial arts to good use.

Placing a hand in a spear, he rotated his hand a full 360 degrees before striking the ki shield. As he did, he quickly spun his hand the opposite way, adding rotational energy to his strike with such speed that it appeared to be akin to a drill digging through it, then following through towards Bael’s left shoulder, attempting to pierce it as well.

The Heran’s eyes widened as his hand pierced through the shield and the flesh of his opponent. When met with an unyielding war cry, a smile formed on his lips. Perhaps, in this improbable place, he had found a kindred spirit. As his fist pierced completely through Bael’s shoulders, he roared.

“THAT’S IT! THAT’S THE WARRIOR SPIRIT!”

Inspired by his opponent’s unshakable resilience, Dosu tried pushing through, only for his arm to be grabbed. Of course, Bael hadn’t given up and clearly intended to settle things his own way. The Heran welcomed the challenge, wishing to see who would come out on top of this struggle.

Perhaps to most watching the fight, it had devolved into a bloodbath. Martial arts enjoyers from across the galaxy were used to fights with clear boundaries and a somewhat agreed upon decorum. However, to those fighting to survive, there was no such thing as mercy or showing restraint. When your life's on the line, anything goes.

When Dosu understood that Bael wouldn’t budge, he tried to pull back, only realizing that the Tuffle’s intentions were to hold him in place. Before he could attempt something to shake him off, it was his turn to receive a spurt of blood straight in his eyes, causing him to flinch. Finally, the moment he felt the tip of the blade puncturing his skin, he stopped it with his other hand, keeping it from digging deeper. At this level, any internal damage could hit a vital area and that would compromise pretty much everything.

“Again…with that shit…”

Blinded still, he was pushed off Bael by the latter, falling to the ground with the sword still attempting to skewer him from side to side. Stopping it still, now with both hands, he noticed it was guiding him off the edge of the arena and possibly going for a ring out.

Removing one of his hands from the blade, he dug his fingers into the arena to ground himself in place. His other hand was fighting back the empowered sword, but he had not the strength to push it back enough to remove it and with no knowledge of where he stood in the arena, stepping back faster than the sword moved to dislodge it from his body was not an option. So what could he do? Hah! Something only Dosu would do, of course.

He mustered as much strength as he could in his arms, muscles bulging out and vascularity showing all across his arms and chest. With a powerful roar, he pushed it to the side, slicing himself in the process, but ultimately freeing himself. The cut wasn’t deep enough to cause severe damage, but the risk of bleeding out increased once more.

Perhaps even more bizarre and unsettling was after taking yet another fair bit of damage, the Heran sprung back up on his feet with even more agility than before. His body, contorting almost unnaturally, was shaking off the rust that he had built by lack of training and diligence. In short, Dosu was waking up, finally. He wiped the blood from his eyes, his vision still a little blurry.

“You’re not the only one who brought his weapon to the fight.”

He placed his hand into a claw, contracting the muscles in his fingers to hold them still. The same fingers that dug through the floor of the arena as if it was butter. From there, Bael could probably do the math.

However, the Heran would give him no time to come to that realization. Yet with another offensive, he rushed towards his opponent, attempting to surprise him with a large swipe attack diagonally across his chest. If it touched, the raw strength of his fingers would rip through the clothes as well as skin and muscles if they reached that far.

“You’ll need to overcome what you consider to be “impossible odds” if you ever want to best me, warrior.”

Because yes, despite his dislike of weapons and magic tricks, Bael’s previous showings forced the Heran to recognize him as a fellow warrior. To him, there was a world of difference between a fighter and a warrior, something that could not be measured by strength alone.

Straight through any defense! THis is how Dosu rolled! Although of a rather unimpressive frame for a fighter aside from his height, the Heran’s strength was nothing to look down upon. It was molded by the harsh reality of the jungle and of his people’s situation. It had been broken time and time again only to become stronger with each healing period. It was a work of art, in some weird sense. Even with this fight, it would continue to improve.

Now faced with multiple wounds and fatigue, Dosu’s mind was clearer than ever. Almost like he needed that much damage taken to fully get into the fight. So long as the damage did not maim or touch his vitals, then it wouldn’t be a bother to him, aside from the eventual bleeding out.

After his hand clawed through the sheath and eventually his chest, Dosu commented about how Bael seemed lost in thought moments prior to being attacked by the Heran. This mistake might have proved to be what led to the Tuffle being hit.

“You don’t have the luxury to get lost in thought. That’s the difference between life and death.”

Back home, it really was. A moment where one was not fully aware of his surroundings could be a decisive factor with all of the threats of the jungle roaming around, laying in wait.

As the sword flew back towards Dosu, he did not really need to see it. Putting his words into action, he let the environment around him feed him with the necessary information he needed to properly counterattack. In this instance, the sound of the blade cutting through the air, the subtle shifts in temperature, the displacement of air around the weapon. All of this information had been relayed to the Heran and worked as well, if not better than seeing it with his own eyes. Without looking back, Dosu simply bent his knees, lowering himself enough for the blade to zip past him as it returned to Bael.

As the Tuffle would need to catch his weapon, Dosu made that his next target. The moment Bael would catch his sword, Dosu would grab the wrist of that same arm with one hand. Moving himself into Bael’s personal space, he would then strike at his throat with the elbow of his second arm, giving his bleeding hand a bit of a break.

Hopefully, that would cut his air flow for a while and allow him to counterattack.

“Time to take things up a notch.”

He said, still bleeding profusely.

Dosu was feeling it. The thrill of the fight to the death, it reverberated throughout his body, waking up what had laid dormant within himself for a long while now. Recently, as the urge for survival became less and less preponderant, he too grew a bit too complacent. This, in turn, had caused him to take injuries where he shouldn’t have. In this unexpected encounter, Bael had reawakened Dosu. Despite the bleeding, despite the lightheadedness, he felt great, elated even! His movements flowed naturally, precise and deadly. Such as this elbow strike to the neck, barely dodged by the Tuffle as he would try to pierce his foot.

However, Dosu wouldn’t get injured freely anymore. Without breaking eye contact with Bael, he managed to move his foot away, the sword planting into the ground, not without grazing a bit of his leg in the process. Superficial damage at best. Now on one foot, his balance was precarious and as such, his opponent managed to push him to the ground, letting go of his grip in the process.

As he fell onto his back, Dosu rolled backwards and pushed himself back up with his arms, landing on his two feet.

“That might not be my place to give advice, but whatever it is you’re so focused on, that will be the reason you lose this fight. You should always be giving your full attention to what’s in front of you at all times. Whoever that “him” is, if you waste your time thinking about killing or avenging or whatever useless crap you’ve got going on, you’ll never be able to realize what you’re currently lacking and at that point, what’s the point?”

Dosu assumed a fighting stance.

“The only important thing is what is happening right now. How to improve, adapt and evolve. You’ve forced me to realize where I stood and what I was lacking, what I needed to do at this moment in order to defeat you…so that’s why.”

Dosu charged ahead.

“Your sword won’t reach me anymore!”

Despite the bleeding or the injuries, he wouldn’t falter! With this offensive, he would feint with a punch only to kick the inside of his right thigh instead, hoping to make him lose his balance. After that, he would go for an elbow to the side of the head.