“Hurry up with that potion, Cyros!” I quickly count over the bottles on my bandolier, spread out over the table before me. The water breathing potion, half empty. Two mana drain potions. A bottle of orchid sap. One classic smoke bomb, two modified smoke bombs. A mana potion. An invisibility potion. My Attuned poison. A pouch of frost seeds, only four left.

It’s what remains of what I brought with me to Fairwood; honestly not bad, considering the preliminary elimination only cost me a healing potion and most of my frost seeds. I move the bandolier over, then stretch out the impromptu belt I’d slapped together with Cyros in the last few hours. Like my bandolier, it has straps for fixing each potion into place, so hopefully everything can get stowed in my inventory together as one object (a belt of potions). Unfortunately, I haven’t had time to test how tight the straps are, yet. I’ll just have to hope for the best.

“Working on it,” Cyros says, bent over a sink at the potion station. He’s holding a bottle with tongs, pouring a newly brewed potion into the flask.

“It’s just a mana drain potion; it’s not going to bite you,” I say as I start fixing the rest of my potions to the belt. One newly purchased health potion (well, Cyros purchased it), one mana potion, and some orchid sap antidote. I swap the water breathing potion and a modified smoke bomb over to the belt, and move the orchid antidote to my primary bandolier while I’m at it. I’ve swapped everything around five times, but I still keep changing my mind and nervously moving things back. What if I won’t have what I need when I need it?

“Yeah, and not wanting my magic sucked away is exactly why I’m being careful,” Cyros says.

“I’m the one that’s got to worry about my mana stores today, not you,” I shoot back. I take out my knife next. I’d traded the scythe for it at the Guild’s general store. The grip feels foreign in my grasp, but it will have to do. It’s better than the scythe, at least; my Knifework skill is up to level 13, and finally I can feel it. Carefully, I coat the blade in orchid sap, then hold the knife over a candle to dry the residue.

“There,” Cyros says, setting the corked bottle down next to me. “What’s next?”

I glance at the sand timer we’d set sometime last night. At the most, we only have another hour until Maru will summon me. I hate the idea of just waiting to be summoned, but I have no idea where she is right now, and I couldn’t risk wasting the whole night looking for her when she might not even be in this physical realm. There’s still so much to do. Too much to do.

Where had the night gone? Getting back to the Blackcloak Guild and finding Cyros had burned the first hour after Maru’s “preliminary” match, and then I’d spent my time exchanging weapons, gathering ingredients for my potions, making a second bandolier—not to mention my Role Requirement came knocking, which forced me to pause and do some meal prep. I mean, I did need to eat something. But it was still a distraction I didn’t need.

“More frost seeds if we have time,” I tell Cyros. “But I’m going to suit up now, in case I get pulled away again before I’m ready.”

Cyros nods solemnly as I strap my main bandolier on, helping me tighten it across my shoulders and secure it to my belt at my waist. Maybe someday I can find a better way to carry all these around. I could even create a whole giant storage system in my inventory—although I’d have to take everything out just to grab one potion, so it wouldn’t be as convenient as a bandolier. Someday—

I stop that train of thought. There won’t be a someday if I can’t survive today.

I grab the last potion Cyros made and secure it on the backup bandolier. I double check the straps holding each potion in place, tightening them as far as they’ll go, then hold my breath.

[Bandolier added to inventory.]

The entire bandolier vanishes, potions and all. Whew. No broken bottles. Good.

“I guess that’s it,” I say, sheathing my new blade and securing it to my waist.

The adrenaline that’s been keeping me going this long is starting to fade, replaced with a hollow weariness that sits heavy in my chest. Despite the fact I’m about to walk into a death battle, I stifle a yawn.

“Not quite,” Cyros says, heading back over to the potion table. “Here. I made one last potion.”

“You should have told me before I put everything away,” I say, tilting my head at the glowing purple mug Cyros retrieves.

“It’s to drink, not to take with you,” he says.

“What is it?” I give it a Check.

[Check: Potion of Vitality,] Echo says. [This potion restores wakefulness and reduces fatigue. Effect: 5 hours.]

Cyros holds it out. “It will help you—”

“Oh my god, it’s an energy drink.” I grab the mug from his hands and chug it down. The potion fizzles on my tongue like soda, but tastes bitter and sour like cold coffee someone squeezed a whole lemon into. I gag, nearly spitting it back out.

“Uh, yeah, it does give you energy. It also tastes like crap.” Cyros grins. “I was going to warn you.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I grimace, pinch my nose, and down the rest of the potion.

[You have been buffed,] Echo says. [Effects: the user will experience reduced fatigue and heightened alertness for the next 5 hours.]

Energy floods through my body. A lethargy in my limbs I hadn’t even noticed before vanishes, and it feels like I just woke up from a full-night’s sleep. My eyelids are no longer heavy, my chest no longer feels like there’s an anchor pulling it down. My fingers are itching to move, and my mind is sharp.

“Thank you,” I wheeze, setting the empty mug down. “You’re a life-saver. Literally, I hope.”

His smile vanishes. “Good luck.”

“Don’t suppose there’s a potion for that?” I ask.

“If there were, I’m not sure it’d be enough for what you have planned.” Cyros clasps his hands behind his head as he blows out a sigh. “You really should just focus on surviving the tournament.”

“I am focused on surviving the tournament,” I say. “And also, killing Maru. It’s a two step plan.”

“Three step,” Cyros says flatly. “Widengra kills you as soon as you so much as look at Maru the wrong way. I’ve heard the gods can read minds.”

Talia and Lisari didn’t seem to think so, but Cyros is right that Widengra’s presence will definitely throw a wrench into things. “You think he’ll be there the whole time?”

Cyros shakes his head. “The gods don’t like to spend much time in the mortal realm. That’s what they have Champions for. He could be there already, but I doubt it. At the very least, he’ll have to be there for the finale, when a new Champion is selected.”

I nod, squeezing my fist tight as if I could squash the tingling feeling of anxiety trying to spread through my bones. I’ll just have to kill Maru before he arrives. Then, with the mark removed, I should be able to flee before I’m forced into a death match with anyone else.

Or, before Widengra shows up and smites me.

I check over my bandolier, my knife, my inventory. Everything is in place. My hands are trembling slightly, and I don’t think it’s just from the vitality potion. I take in a deep breath, then let it out.

“Ignore Maru,” Cyros says again. “Just focus on the candidates. With this whole arsenal you put together, and with surprise on your side, you can beat them. I’m sure you can.”

And then what? Become Widengra’s Champion? Fuck no. I’m not winning this thing—but I sure as hell won’t die in it either.

“Thanks, Cyros,” I say instead. “For… everything.”

He grimaces. “I’ll come find you at the tournament field. Help however I can. This isn’t goodbye.”

“I’ll make sure it isn’t.”

At that point, I think we’re both waiting for the inevitable. We go back to the potions anyway, working on one last batch of frost seeds, but it isn’t another fifteen minutes before I feel the pull of Maru’s mark.

----------------------------------------

I appear in the stadium to the roar of a crowd. After the dim of the Blackcloak Guild, the sunlight lances through my eyes. I squint against the glare, turning in a circle as I take in my surroundings.

“Welcome, candidates,” Maru’s voice booms over the field.

I can’t pinpoint where the sound is coming from. Around me, the other candidates are likewise gathering their bearings and sizing each other up. So few of us now.

“Today, a demigod will ascend,” Maru continues. “Just as I rose from mortality three centuries ago.”

There, near the top of the stadium. An ornate overlook appears to house several key figures. I recognize Maru—but I also notice Lisari and Talia standing among a small crowd of individuals. I give the strangers a Check, and Echo identifies them as members of the Fairwood council. They’re flanked by guards, including the lieutenant, Jules—although I suppose she’s probably Captain, now, given Enrold’s death.

Given I killed him.

I shake the thoughts away. Focus on surviving the now. Widengra doesn’t appear to be present. Maru is out of reach. But maybe I can get up there between the first and second match.

“Several rings have been designated for matches throughout the arena,” Maru says, gesturing out over the field.

Looking around, I find myself already standing in one. A raised ridge of wood an inch tall and twenty feet across. There’s over a dozen more like it spread across the tournament grounds.

“The fights will be randomized,” Maru says. “Once all matches in the first round conclude, the winners will be paired off and the next round will begin. I have been informed there are healers on standby to tend to individuals between matches; it is in your best interest, then, to win your match quickly. The winner of each match is decided when their opponent is incapacitated.”

Even though I can’t see it from this distance, I can hear the sneer in her voice. Incapacitated. How many of the candidates here, how many who are willing to murder in the name of the god of war, will stop at merely knocking their opponent unconscious?

Crap. If I lose, I will either be killed, or I’ll be injured enough I won’t be able to make a move on Maru. But if I win, I stay in the tournament, and I won’t have an opportunity to slip away. What do I do? What do I do?

I take a steadying breath. Survive. I just need to survive.

“I think that’s enough rules,” Maru says. “We’re here for battle, aren’t we?”

The crowd roars in excitement, and like an old friend, anger returns to me once more. They’re all just as bad as Maru. Just as morally corrupt as Widengra. I hate them all.

With a snap of Maru’s fingers, the Gods’ Tournament begins.

I stumble as the ground shifts under my feet. The wood moves, ferrying me along, spinning me around the circle like the wooden floor is made of giant interlocking gears and puzzle pieces. Once it stops, I find another competitor on the other side of the ring. Around me, I catch a glimpse of other competitors who have been paired off. I can’t afford to spare them any thoughts, however. My world narrows to this twenty-foot circle.

My match is a lanky, human man with a black braid and blue draped clothing. His skin appears stretched over his skeletal frame like he’s malnourished—hardly the kind of person I would have expected to make it through Maru’s first elimination round. But that’s what worries me. He looks me up and down, and his mouth quirks with amusement. I give him a Check.

[Minji. Level 29 human osteomancer.]

Osteomancer? What the hell does that mean? Echo, what school of magic is that?

[Osteomancy falls within the school of Life arcana.]

I draw my knife with my right hand, and run my left down my string of potions. Without knowing what he can do, I’m not sure which potion would be the most effective, and I can’t afford to waste a single one. Then again, orchid poison should work no matter what kind of magic he’s got.

“Ready!” Maru’s voice booms over the stadium.

Can you be more specific? I ask Echo. What kind of Life arcana? What does it do?

[Osteomancy falls within the school of necrotic magic,] Echo says.

I get a sinking feeling as Minji unclips a large sack from his belt and holds it up before him.

“Set!” Maru calls.

[Specifically, it relates to the control of bones.]

Minji turns the sack upside down and a waterfall of white clatters onto the field before his feet, clicking and clacking like macabre windchimes.

“Begin!” Maru booms.

The bones glow with green magic, shuddering to life.

I drop into a defensive stance. “Shit.”