They Call it a Tournament, He Calls it Stress Relief [Road Fighter | Solo]

Neyvahn stood in the combatant wing, studying all of the fighters. Pretty much all of them seemed extremely experienced in arena combat. Each one of them had an almost ridiculous physique, tons of expensive equipment, and more than enough arrogant banter to go around. It was a little annoying.

But then again, arrogance was always annoying to Neyvahn... or was he confusing that with confidence? There always was a thin line between the two, so perhaps Neyvahn had just moved that line to the point where any sign of confidence was arrogance to him. Neyvahn shook his head free of the thought. Regardless of whether or not he had confused the two, it wasn't very fun to stay in the combatant wing with all the meatheads.

The silver-haired bakeneko tugged on his choker, looking for a place where he wouldn't have to deal with all the fighters. It was only a matter of time before he was to fight them, he didn't want to deal with them anymore than that. Neyvahn went to move to the emptiest corner of the room before he was blocked off by one of the fighters. Although the dude wasn't ridiculously tall, Neyvahn still had to look up to see his ugly face.

The man wore a pink gi and looked down at Neyvahn with a smirk. "Hey there! I'm Hibiki. What's someone like you doing at a fighting competition?"

Great, one of the fighters was trying to get cheeky. What kind of question was he asking? He sounded like a narcissist trying to undermine the competition. Neyvahn was going to make sure to kick his ass.

The bakeneko pushed him aside. "Move."

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Hibiki said, jumping back in front of Neyvahn. "I was just asking why you decided to enter this tournament. I mean, you don't exactly look like the kind of person to-"

"That's my business. Besides, you don't look like the kind of person to study the competition." Before Hibiki could say another word, Neyvahn walked passed him and into his own little area. Last thing he needed was someone getting up in his business before the competition started. Fortunately, it was starting soon. A voice came up over the intercom, causing all the contestants to go silent for a second. Wow, silence for once, even if it was for just a second.

"Attention contestants, the contest will begin shortly. First match contestants please make your way to the starting gates: Neyvahn Keyvolo vs Mike Bison."

Neyvahn turned around to see some of the contestants patting a man on the back. He was bulky and wore a silky robe over himself, his red boxing gloves barely peeking out the hooded robe. He was probably his first opponent.

Neyvahn and his competitor walked through the tunnels just beneath the fighting arena. Mike Bison tried to make small talk on the way, but Neyvahn just kind of followed along, responding when appropriate and nodding his head when the conversation called for it. The man was nice and all, but Neyvahn didn't really see any point in chatting. That and the boxer commented towards his ears and tail. God, what was it with everyone and his yokai features!?

No matter. Soon enough, they reached their platforms and stood on them, waiting for the commentator to announce the fight. Neyvahn was confident in his abilities, but testing them against other fighters was really going to set him in the ranks. Fighting in front of people was really going to make these fights interesting. Neyvahn had gotten a little tired of fighting people for the sake of defending himself, so he was hoping these fights would be a more enjoyable. Now he didn't have to worry about being killed... hopefully.

Neyvahn pulled on the choker around his neck. He was going to get a chance to test himself without any advantages. No weapons, no armors, no items, just straight up physical (and magical) ability. Across the opening, Mike Bison waved to him. "Hey, good luck to you!" Neyvahn was glad that he had good sportsmanship. At least all the fighters weren't complete douches.

The silver-haired bakeneko nodded his head to Mike. "You too."

Above them, Neyvahn could hear the muffled voice of the commentator. Sounds like the crowd was getting pretty riled up, so he guessed the fight was gonna start any moment. Although it took a little longer than he predicted, the platforms began to rise, the roof opening up to let in the bright sunlight. Being a white dragon slayer and all, Neyvahn just looked up and closed his eyes, absorbing the light.

Even with the crowds cheering invading his ears, Neyvahn took a slow, deep breath. "Slow the heart... calm the mind..." The meditation mantra was something Kei had recently taught him. It was a way to add a flow, to add control into his chaotic battle tactics. Neyvahn's first concern was that it'd make his attacks predictably, but Kei explained how it'd actually add more fluidity, making his attacks closer together and harder to recover from.

Although a complete change in his style of fighting would feel uncomfortable at first, it would ultimately allow Neyvahn to become much better at handling these situations. Too much has happened in the past that ruined his life just because he couldn't hold his own. Hopefully, this "rolling ball" technique would help him with that.

The platforms reached their locking point and both contestants were placed flat in the center of an elevated platform. Around them were ruins of old Roman buildings spanning around two acres. Definitely could be difficult terrain to fight on for some contestants. However, Neyvahn felt confident he could handle it.

"Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!" The announcer's voice boomed through the stadium. "In the blue shorts, the fighting fury, the fists of steel, Mike Biiissooonn!" In response, the crowd cheered with excitement, a few whistles echoing through the stands. "Aaand in the black pants, a young wrangler, the fiery furry, Neyvaahn Keyyvoloooo!" Although the cheers were a little quieter, they were still respectful and cheered. No whistles though. Whatever.

Mike threw off his silk hooded robe, getting into a strong fighting stance with his fists up. Neyvahn, however, got into a much more elegant pose. Instead of imposing intimidation on his opponent, he was going to try to redirect his attacks instead of beating him with brute force. "We have some tough fighters today, folks, so let's get right into the action!" Four holographic screens around the two fighters began to count down from ten. Neyvahn was ready, and so was his opponent. Now it was just down to how well each one of them could perform.

The numbers flashed by. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... FIGHT!

Mike Bison came out swinging, putting Neyvahn right into the defensive side of the fight. He had no chance for an offensive move with the quick succession of punches. Unless he found an opening or backed away, he wasn't going to get the opportunity. Neyvahn leaned under a punch intended for his nose, but wasn't able to dodge the follow-up uppercut. It landed right in his chest and sent him back a few inches.

Neyvahn cursed under his breath. He wasn't having any luck just trying to dodge, and he didn't have much opportunity to retaliate. Bison just stayed on his tail so closely. Any closer and he'd literally be stepping on his tail. Neyvahn was deadlocked into a game of cat and mouse as long as he was on the defensive, so he needed to turn things around quickly before he bit the dust. Neyvahn wouldn't be able to live it down if he got KO'd in the first round.

He spat to the ground and grit his teeth as Bison got back into his space. Each punch shot out and kept Neyvahn pinned down. However, there was a glimmer of familiarity in the attacks... like a subconscious pattern. Although Neyvahn was wrapped up in the fight, Kei could, with a little effort, easily pick up the way he threw his jabs and hooks.

They alternated. Left, right, left, right. But he'd throw in an occasional double to throw off the sequence. Left, right, left left, right, left, right right. The double hits usually went for the nose, but singles went up and down from the cheek, to the chest, to the side of the abdomen. Kei grinned a little bit and relayed his information to Neyvahn.

It took a little while for him to see the pattern. However, once he did, he could see the center of energy Bison shifted around with each attack. Neyvahn dodged to the right of a jab, then sprinted back to put the slightest of breaks between the two.

Bison got right back into the action and threw his flurry of punches at Neyvahn. However, he could start to see the patterns. He had pretty much learned the sequence but he still got hit a few times in the stomach by a strong hit. Neyvahn watched as Bison launched a heavy hook to his right cheek and leaned back. He brought up his right hand and crossed it over, pulling Bison down with his own force behind the punch.

With a thump, the boxer hit the ground and tried to get up. Neyvahn wasn't going to let him though. He brought a heavy fist down on Bison's head. It disoriented him and forced him back to the ground, leaving him open to a finishing effort by Neyvahn. He leaped on Mike and started throwing balled fists right into his face.

Mike Bison did his best to protect his face, but Neyvahn didn't just aim after his nose, he punched right at his chest and his stomach. Bison brought his guard down soon enough and gave Neyvahn an opening to knock him out cold. Neyvahn did just that.

After a scary amount of heavy hits, Bison finally fell unconscious and Neyvahn knelt above him victorious. The crowds cheered enthusiastically. "I can't believe my eyes! Neyvahn Keyvolo stands victorious against out-cold boxer Bison!"

Neyvahn took a deep breath and returned back to the platform to make his way back to the waiting wing for the fighters. When he got there, the rest of the fighters started chatting about him. He could hear some things from both sides. Some were impressed with how he handled the situation, but others called it a lucky win. Whatever, Neyvahn felt confident they'd learn differently about him soon enough.

All he needed to do was play things smart and he'd leave his mark.