I skipped the third round. Advanced automatically. My opponent, and his armour, had taken significant damage. Stepping into a fight against a fully functional enemy would've been idiocy. And he didn’t.Kaleb Shoal, a Point-Air cultivator, had won his previous fight.Facing him on a sand-covered arena was Volkov — a Wood cultivator. I took an instant dislike to the bastard, though I hadn’t even seen his face beneath that pitch-black armour.Shoal’s gear had an unusual paint job. Instead of a standard colour mix, the black angular plating was traced with blue and violet lines. They ran along the edges, lighting them up in a way that made it seem like the armour was surrounded by a jagged aura. When I rewatched the fight, I found myself cheering for Shoal, even though I already knew he won. I liked his crazy, cheerful approach. Even before the match began, he pointed the stubby spea at his opponent and said:"Hey, how about we spice things up a bit? Fancy a little wager?""And what would that be?" Volkov asked, spinning a black wooden staff above his head."A small crystal. Got one with 63 units of qi in it. I’ll take anything over fifty in return."Volkov stopped spinning the staff and shook his head."You’re insane," he said."I’ve just got a slight gambling issue!" Shoal laughed. "So that’s a no, I take it?""Prepare yourselves!" the judge barked.I don’t know whether Shoal genuinely wanted to place that bet or was just trying to mess with his opponent’s head. Volkov didn’t answer — he just raised his staff in front of him like a spear.Shoal mimicked the stance in parody, holding his stubby thing. His weapon had a four-sided tip, shaped like a standard training spike, but behind the head was a short, less-than-half-metre metal shaft. The result looked ridiculous — like he was mocking his opponent outright."Begin!" the judge commanded.Both fighters activated movement (...)