Chapter Text
It’s said that some mortals who walk the world alongside us share their souls with that of an ancient deity. The tale goes as such: When a child is born with a mortal soul filled with the attributes shared with a god of the higher world, the two souls will bond together. This phenomenon is thought to change the mortal into a near-immortal force— unable to die of old age or sickness. The old myths state that fatal injury is the only sure-fire way to kill the being, and once they are killed, the deity they share a soul with will return to the higher world. This, of course, was bullshit.
Until it wasn’t.
Deep within the Nether, the new Blood God was born and promptly orphaned, forced to fend for himself. One day, the piglin hybrid had emerged from a portal and headed to the dueling ring. His skull mask covered his face and his silent demeanor struck fear into opponents as he cut through each of them one by one. It’s a story everyone knows, but only a few truly believe. It’s the story of Technoblade.
…
Deep within the Nether, the new Blood God was born and promptly orphaned, that much was true. However, the orphaned piglin hybrid wasn’t exactly what the stories told of. As a baby, Torianna was cared for by the Blood God himself. She saw him as a father, even if it wasn’t biological, the man had given her a name and the skills she needed to survive. Their souls were tied, interwoven with one another.
Both father and daughter were fighters, not lovers. Love was shown through hours of sparring and bruised limbs, through a delighted laugh as one of them fell, through a little extra food for the other when they were sad. A picture is worth a thousand words, her father had said once, actions are worth a million. Her father was poetic, there always seemed to be meaning behind his words. She wanted to be like that one day.
She knew her father didn’t have a permanent mortal form, no god did, but she found it touching the things he did for her. She remembered the day his physical form changed to resemble a piglin hybrid after she had confided in him that she felt different and strange for her hybridity. Now that she was in the overworld the majority of the time, he was just a voice of advice and reason in the back of her mind.
The Blood God was the one to suggest dueling for money and seventeen-year-old Torianna had jumped on the idea. Her father had warned her that mortals tended to only let men into their fighting events, so she adopted the name of Technoblade. He who never dies. She found it fitting, she only ever lost to the gods themselves. Before walking through the portal, her father had handed her his skull mask. Take it, Tori, you deserve it.
L’Manberg was a fight ring hot spot, so that’s where she went. Her long braid of pink hair trailed down her back, tight shirt and enchanted netherite encasing her torso. A tournament was set to be held that afternoon, and she would arrive around mid-morning, enough time to sign up and warm up. She scoped out the area as she walked the streets of her new environment. Tori had managed to spot a handful of fellow hybrids, which was reassuring. Hybrids weren’t readily accepted in quite a few areas.
It didn’t take long to find the fighting grounds. Banners and viewing stands scattered the area and sparring dummies littered the field contenders were already warming up on. The competition seemed decent, though she had a suspicion she would tower over many of her opponents. Her height was one of her favorite parts of her piglin-inherited traits, as it allowed her to stand above 6 feet tall. Tori pulled herself out of her thoughts and quickly made her way down to the grounds.
The sign-in process was easy enough; name, age, and number of tournaments you’ve competed in. Although she knew there was nothing to worry about, anxiety crept its way up Tori’s fingertips, leaving her hands cold and slightly clammy. The hybrid made her way to the sparring area, intent on getting a weapon for the battles to come. She eventually decided on a simple netherite axe, looking forward to dominating the field as the competitors she assumed were veterans eyed her from afar.
“Hey, newbie.” Delightful, someone was talking to her. “I’m Sapnap, is this your first time?” Beings above, help her. Tori nodded silently. “Ah, you’re the silent type. I see you, man.” She just stared blankly at him. “Well, see you on the field, then!” He was gone. Thank goodness.
Could’ve been worse, though.
“True,” she mumbled out quietly. There wasn’t much action going on around L’Manberg, the souls here were relatively calm. They didn’t scream into her ears for revenge or blood, they just spectated, content to watch.
“Competitors and warriors!” The announcer, Tori assumed, “Please make your way to your designated seating area. When your name is called, please calmly make your way onto the turf and wait for your introduction. Thank you.” This wouldn’t be too bad, and the cash prize wouldn’t be too bad either.
The announcer stood up once more after the crowds had settled, “There will be four rounds in total. The first will consist of eight battles, the second will have four, then there will be the semi-finals. Once there are only two competitors remaining, the final duel will determine the winner.” The crowd in the stands roared in excitement, the sound rolling over the warriors in a large wave. “Remember, no killing, and have fun!” The silence of the announcer didn’t last long and he soon yelled out the first pair to battle.
Tori kept her bored demeanor as she waited for her name to be thrown out into the waiting crowd for them to ravage like starved sharks in murky waters. Eventually, she snapped to attention, walking out onto the beaten-down earth to the roars of the spectators. She gazed across the open space, sizing up her opponent as the announcer read out his introduction.
“Our seventh battle of the first round welcomes two first time competitors. To my left, Quackity, who is 16. To my right, Technoblade, who is 17. Good luck to both.”
Gods, this will be fun.