Chapter Text
Peach Cookie had gone through a lot the past year. From her village being repeatedly attacked by cake monsters and bandits, to college responsibilities looming over her head, to most heartbreaking, her brother and former greatest martial artist on Earthbread, Plum Cookie was tragically slain by a mysterious assassin for unknown reasons. But, it was a new year, she needed to move past all of that, because that’s what he would’ve wanted.
Peach opened her mailbox to find an unusually ornate envelope, with a seal she didn’t recognize. She opened to envelope, finding a letter.
The letter was as follows:
“Greetings! You have been declared the greatest fighter in your profession! You have been selected to fight in a tournament to decide the greatest fighter in all of Earthbread, where your greatest desire can come true! All we require is your verbal confirmation.
Signed: The Council of Fighting Arts.”
Now, this struck Peach as odd. For one, she had never heard of “The Council of Fighting Arts” before, and the whole thing stank of something evil, but Peach’s curiosity got the better of her in the end.
“I accept.” Peach said, confident in her decision.
Upon her confirmation, she began to feel lightheaded, and after a few seconds, promptly passed out.
When she awoke, she was in an unfamiliar place. It appeared to be a wide open field with a pedestal in her immediate field of view.
Approaching the pedestal, Peach found some sort of belt-like device, and a small disc-like object. Instinctively, Peach placed the belt around her waist, and inserted the disc into the center of the belt.
“Entry!” The belt announced, as a suit of armor formed around her, the helmet being the most distinctive part, resembling the monkey visage on the disc.
Upon donning the armor, a cookie in a mask and robes approached Peach.
“Greetings, you must be Peach Cookie, the greatest martial artist on Earthbread! Welcome to the Tournament of Legends!”
Just hearing herself being referred to as “the greatest martial artist on Earthbread” felt completely wrong to Peach. That was her brother, he was the greatest martial artist, not her.
“Yep, That’s me. But, who are you, and what is this suit?” Peach asked.
“Well, I am the Game Master, what you are wearing is your Official Combat Suit! Welcome to the Airlieve Cup!” The cookie said, their voice exuding a charismatic charm. “Tell me Peach Cookie: What’s your Desire?”