This story is a background story preceding one of the chapters in my book “Dark Energy Manipulators”.
I have earned my place, on the mound, in the center, with a near-perfect performance in the last two weeks of this tournament. My opponent stood slightly below me knowing his disadvantage of a lower plane. It was his turn to attack me.
The audience was silently watching, stunned by our performance. They were rooting for Drin the serial champion for the last ten years. He was the hero of generations and rightfully their commander of war while I had the feeling I cheated even though I have earned my place in this fight by eliminating all other opponents. I had to win this tournament to stop this stupid war going on for eighty-five years. The Eadwin promoted their champion automatically to the undisputed general of their army and negotiator with the opposing party.
This war has brought both societies to the brink of collapse. They would not survive another decade of war. Already, hundreds of years of knowledge had been destroyed. Sla predicted if both societies survived, their combined effort would trigger a Renaissance-like culture and golden age, which gave them a good chance to evolve to a higher state.
Unfortunately, both societies had pivotal negotiators who had to be masters in martial arts. The very nature of their masters was to not give up anything and their philosophy was attack beats defense, so the war was in a stalemate and negotiations were fruitless. Sla reasoned that they needed an outside influence to end this war.
Since he must not act on his own, I had to be his instrument. I needed to fight myself into a position of power, literally. It took me fifteen years of grueling training and a genetic remodeling of my body to be able to win against Drin. His body had been genetically improved as well, I needed to at least match his physical prowess to have a chance.
We stood like gladiators in the middle of an amphitheater — like the one in ancient Rome. We both were breathing hard, our bodies were glistening in the sun, and we needed to end this now. There were at least sixty-thousand spectators, but no sound could be heard. Everybody understood that I had outmatched Drin in every way possible. Some realized that Drin’s inability to yield was at the center of their tragedy.
Drin knew he was defeated, but he did not know how to stop, which was his inherent weakness. Speed and offense were his only weapons, not enough against my arsenal of martial arts knowledge. His attack was doomed as he threw himself at me, knowing it was his last.