Fwah! It’s finally the finals, huh?

Today is the day. The final match of the tournament.

After taking a single day off, the tournament came back in full swing the very next. It seems that, as more and more trainers and their slaves were knocked out of the tournament, they finally managed to whittle down the excessive number of competitors to an actual manageable amount, meaning each competitor now got to fight multiple times in one day instead of just once. It’s probably what they had initially intended for the tournament in the first place before they were unexpectedly hit with the sheer number of slave owners who wanted to sign up, causing the tournament to run a little longer than it was meant to. I guess when people heard Queen Kokoro herself was going to personally reward the winner, everybody wanted in on the action.

It’s been a couple days since me, Mei-Mei, Mash, and Bran went on our little slave shopping spree and, since the break, I managed to fight my way through match after match, single-handedly tearing through the competition with ease and clawing my way up into the finals. Since our fight with Keytone the Analyst of the Elitist Four, nobody’s tried on any more funny business and it’s just been back to punching big, sweaty guys in the throat again. Much to his relief, Bran hasn’t had to step foot on the field since the Analyst fight, and Mei-Mei’s troll hasn’t even had the chance to leave its cage yet.

Right now, it’s the morning of the final match, and a group of us are discussing our game plan for the upcoming fight. As one of the finalists, we’ve been given our own little private room in the stadium with a table, some chairs, and enough space for the seven of us to comfortably sit around and talk.

“So,” Mei-Mei begins, sitting at the head of the table. “Cinn-Thea, the Champion of Sin, will be our final opponent. She hasn’t used it yet, but we can assume she’s been saving her trump card—an oni—for our final match. We don’t know what her other two slaves will be, so we need to be careful of any bad match-ups. We don’t want a repeat of the Analyst fight where the gorilla went down in the first round. Pepper's the only one who has a chance at taking down an oni, so we have to make sure to keep her off the field until the oni comes out. Anyone have anything else to add?”

From across the table, Bran raises his hand to speak. “Yeah, uh, there’s nothing I’d like to add, but if you could remove me from the roster, that would be great. There’s no way I’m standing on the same field as an oni. I choose being a slave over a guaranteed death.”

“Useless...” Mei-Mei rolls her eyes in response. “Fine. We’ll obviously be using Pepper and the troll. Who wants to be the third?”

Standing off to the side, somebody raises a hand into the air.

“I’ll be the third. I would be honoured to fight and die next to our Leader.”

It’s Buttercup.

During our outing a couple days back, in the end, I did up convincing Mash to buy another slave after finding one that I liked. It was Buttercup—the cute, centaur woman who keeps calling me ‘Leader’ for some reason. Her trainer had been knocked out of the tournament pretty early on and so she was just being sold as normal. It’s a good thing I happened to run into her when I did! Although, Mash seemed pretty unhappy about it. Apparently centaurs are pretty expensive and it really cleaned him out, meaning we could only afford to get Buttercup.

Fweh... I wish we could’ve got a few more though... Maybe when I win the tournament, I can ask Queen Kokoro to make slaves a lot cheaper.

Speaking of cheap slaves...

“Kiii! Kiii!” A garbled screech belts out across the room. Standing in her chair, the little green goblin girl Mei-Mei bought the other day bangs violently on the table while gnashing her little teeth in Buttercup’s direction. “Kiiiii!”

Lately I’ve been trying to dress her up in cute clothes, but it always ends in her screeching at me and tearing them off. It took some effort, but I managed to get her to wear a skirt without too much fuss. Although, her current choice of chest covering seems to be the shredded ribbons of all the previous shirts and dresses I tried to put on her.

“Hm?” Mei-Mei tilts her head to the side at the goblin’s shriek. “She’s saying she wants to be the third.”

“Huh? Since when could zombies speak goblin?” Bran asks.

“Well, it’s an incredibly primitive language. It only took me a few hours to piece it together. I’m sure even a useless idiot like you could do it too with enough time.”

“Kiikiikii!”

"Very well," Buttercup concedes. "I'll relinquish the third spot to Miss Goblin while I continue to work behind the scenes towards the Leader's goal."

Oh? My goal? Buttercup’s been working behind the scenes to find me cute slave girls to stick my tongue into this whole time? That’s nice of her. I didn’t even know she was doing that!

Nervously leaning away from the screeching goblin, Mash is the next to raise his hand. “I-I’m not sure about bringing a goblin into the match. I don’t think she’ll listen to me...”

“Kiiiii!” In response, the goblin girl angrily gnaws on the corner of the table.

“W-what did she say?”

“She said she’s going to tear off your head and crap down your throat hole.”

“What?!”

“Ah, sorry. Although primitive, the goblin language has a lot of subtle nuances. The phrase ‘I’m going to tear off your head and crap down your throat hole’ seems to make up eighty-seven percent of the goblin language. But in this context, she probably intended it to mean ‘don’t worry, I won’t cause any trouble’. At least, I think so.”

“R-right...”

With our team of three now decided, Mei-Mei claps her hands together and looks around the room.

“Anyone else have anything to add?” she asks, before turning to one person in particular. “You’ve been awfully silent. Something on your mind, Biscuit?”

At the mention of her name, the fluffy, white-haired wolf girl suddenly perks up, snapped away from her quiet daydreaming.

“S-sorry,” Biscuit says, blinking away her spacey thoughts. “What was the question?”

During my time in the tournament, I’ve only had a few short opportunities to talk with Biscuit before she would scamper off in a hurry, leaving me to forget all about her once again. Every time I see her, she seems to be covered in more and more light scrapes and bruises. They don’t seem to be bothering her though. In fact, she almost seems proud of them.

Just where has this girl been disappearing to this whole time? What’s she been doing? I’ll have to remember to ask her about it after the match, I guess...

“Ah, it’s fine,” Mei-Mei says, waving the question off. “I think we’re about as prepared as we’re ever going to be... Right, gorilla?”

As everyone turns my way and all the eyes in the room fall on me, I open my mouth to speak.

“Fwahahaha! ‘atf righ’!” I laugh, showering little chunks of half-chewed meat, bone, and gristle across each person seated at the table. “An’ no mo’ go’illa ftuff! Itf flow lo’iff. Flow lo’iff!”

Right now, I’m stuffing my face full of as much meat as Mash’s meagre savings will allow for. Protein is important, after all! And I’m gonna need a lot of it if I want to take down an oni!

“Chew with your damn mouth shut!” Mei-Mei complains, wiping the flecks of greasy spittle off her face. “And it pisses me off that I couldn’t understand a word of what you said, yet I knew exactly what you were saying! What the hell is a slow loris any—?”

A sudden knock on the door cuts her off mid-complaint and a voice calls from the other side.

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“If Mash Ketchup and his team could please make their way towards the field now. The match will begin shortly.”

“Ah, r-right!” Mash calls back. “Be right there!”

On that note, everybody gets up and files out of the door one by one, leaving me with some parting words as I finish off the last of my meal.

“Keh... It’s time already, is it? Fine. I’ll go get the troll. I’ll see you on the field in a bit.”

“Ah, I guess I need to go on ahead and confirm my team with the officials. Don’t take too long, Pepper.”

“Leader, I promise to complete my mission while all eyes are focused on the arena. Even if you were to perish in the arena today, please know that your will still burns brightly within us all.”

“Kiiikiiii! Kiiii!”

"Uh, I'm sure it'll be fine but do still try not to die. You and the zombie both. I’ll be watching from up top. You know, away from the oni.”

Licking the salty grease from my fingers, I watch the others leave as I too make for the door. Stepping out, I notice a little hand grip my skirt from behind. It’s Biscuit.

“Hm? What’s up?”

She opens her mouth to reply, and then closes it again. She looks really conflicted for some reason.

“Well, if you can’t tell me...” I ruffle her fluffy white head with a wet, freshly-licked hand. “You wanna just come with?”

In reply, she simply nods.

With Biscuit still gripping the back of my skirt, we slowly make our way through the stadium and into one of the starting tunnels leading into the arena. The muffled cheers of the excited audience above our heads rumbles across the walls of the dark, empty corridor as we continue on without speaking a word.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, the two of us step out into the early afternoon sun and onto the field. As we do, the crowd erupts in wild cheers. No longer the target of their jeering and boos, encouraging chants of “Baby Eater!” and “Throat Puncher!” can be heard all across the arena. With people practically spilling out of the completely packed stadium, the air is filled with nothing but raw excitement.

Across the field, I already notice Mash waiting for me. The tiny green goblin girl stomps around him in little circles, attempting to screech her garbled nonsense over the deafening audience. Off to the side, the pale, rotting corpse of a troll towers over the two of them. As well as the gaping gash across its belly, its head is hanging low and its arms are dropping limply to its sides. But despite that, it seems to be standing somehow. Every now and then, its discoloured limbs twitch and jerk in an odd, unnatural way, and it seems to be swaying from side to side a little as if slightly off balance. But it’s still standing.

I guess it isn’t dead after all...? I wonder where Mei-Mei is though. I can’t see her around anywhere...

Looking across to the opposite side, I can spot Cinnamon in the distance, her eyes focused into a scowl as they follow my path along the dirt, watching intently as I come to a stop beside Mash. For whatever reason, she seems to be alone, with none of her own slaves on her side of the field...

Piercing through the roaring excitement of the crowd, the tournament announcer’s voice echoes out over the loudspeaker.

“Welcome back, brothers and sisters! Today’s the day you’ve all been waiting for! The final match of the tournament! I’m sure you’re all sick of my introductions by now, so why don’t we let your future champs-in-the-making do the talking instead? First up, it’s the Rookie Mash! I guess you can’t really call him a rookie anymore though! Go ahead and give the fans a few words, brother!”

At the announcer’s words, I feel something tremble below my feet. The muffled screech of clanking pipes and shifting metal rumbles softly beneath the dirt.

“... Huh?” Mash’s puzzled voice is the next to echo across the stadium. It seems the shifting beneath the dirt has something to do with the loudspeaker system. More dwarf magic, I’m sure.

“A-ah, I, uh... M-my name is...” Caught off-guard by being suddenly put on the spot, the sweaty slaver stutters nervously under the attention of the tens of thousands in the stands. “M-M-Mash K-Ketchup from Palate T-Town and—”

“Fwahahaha!” I laugh, cutting the man off as my voice punches across the whole stadium. "Mash is gonna be the very best like no one ever was! As the strongest slave to ever exist, it only makes sense that my trainer would be the best too!"

The crowd erupts into even more cheers and excitement at my words.

In return, Mash shoots me a relieved smile and a grateful nod.

“A bold declaration from Rookie Mash and his Throat-Punching Baby Eater!” the announcer continues, back on the loudspeaker. “And last, but definitely not least, let’s hear what our second finalist has to say! Cinn-Thea! The Champion of Sin! The floor is now yours, sister! What would you like to say to all your fans?”

As all eyes fall on Cinnamon, her harsh scowl grows even harsher.

“I told you...” she says, her voice now echoing across the stadium. “I don’t care about this tournament. I don’t care about any fans. I don’t care about any of this anymore. I only want the one that toyed with my heart to know what it feels like to be toyed with instead...”

Oh, right. I remember Cinnamon saying she came here for revenge or something. I wonder if she managed to get it in the end? Seeing as we’re the last two teams in the tournament and everybody else has already been knocked out, she must have done, right? I wonder who it was she was so angry at...

“I-I see...” the announcer replies. “Well, uh, moving on... Queen Kokoro la Peppyseed! Is there anything you’d like to say before we start?”

Thousands of pairs of eyes suddenly look up towards the top of the stands where the Queen and her knights are looking down on the arena.

“Hm—?” A seemingly startled dwarf woman sits atop her oversized throne, her adorably pink cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk as she shovels little chocolates into her mouth. Audibly swallowing them down, she moves her chocolate-covered lips towards the funny contraption at her side and speaks into it. “The tournament has been a lot of fun so far. I’m looking forward to this final match.”

And just like that, the slight damper that Cinnamon’s sour mood had cast across the arena is immediately brought back to life in an instant. Cheers, chants, and happy sobs fill the air once more at a single simple statement from everybody’s beloved queen.

Giving the crowd a minute to simmer down a little, the announcer’s voice comes back through the speaker.

“Well, without further ado, let’s get this match started!.. Is what I would say, but it seems Cinn-Thea hasn’t brought any slaves with her! What could be the meaning of this...?”

In response, Cinnamon unlatches the whip from her side and holds it out in front of her.

“This is my final command as slave master and Champion of Sin...” Cracking her whip into the air one last time, she immediately tosses the weapon to the ground, leaving it to roll across the dirt.

“Kill them,” she commands. “All of them. And turn this entire city into rubble.”

At her words, the ground beneath my feet starts to rumble and my back muscles start to twitch and flutter in wild anticipation.

“B-big sis Pepper...” From my side, a stuttery Biscuit tugs at my skirt once again. “It’s still not too late to d-drop out of the tournament. We still have t-time to leave if we hurry...”

Stumbling out from the shadowy tunnel behind Cinnamon, a hulking figure steps onto the field. Its pitch-black eyes burn black like coal, and two long white horns stick up from atop its fiery red hair. It's an oni.

“Fwahaha! Is this why you wanted me to drop out back then? This is nothing!” I reassure her. “It’ll be fine! I’m a demon, remember? We were the ones who made these guys extinct in the first place!”

As the oni steps out into the sunlight—

“...Fweh?”

—Blood gushes wildly from its razor-edged mouth and across the many gashes and missing chunks beaten into its body. One of its arms is missing and it looks as if half of its skull has been crushed, sticking out in jagged chunks from its torn face.

Taking a few more shaky steps onto the field, it eventually collapses to the ground, the last of its blood pooling out across the dirt below.

It’s dead.

“B-big sis Pepper...” There’s another tug from the woflgirl at my side. “It wasn’t the oni I didn’t want you to fight...”

As the crowd falls into a confused murmur, the sounds of slow, heavy footsteps thudding down the tunnel behind Cinnamon can be heard, making their approach.

Despite the oni being dead, my muscles are continuing to twitch and spasm with wild excitement. Something is coming. Something much stronger than an oni.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

As the footsteps draw nearer, my eyes go wide as the mysterious new threat emerges from the tunnel.

Finally making their way into the arena, another fiery-haired figure steps out into the light, the thick muscles across every exposed inch of their dark skin glisten beneath the brightness of the afternoon sun. Making their way across the field, their gleaming yellow eyes sparkle with an ecstatic sense of wonder as they scan them across the audience, before stopping to fall on my own. As they do, she immediately stops in her tracks and a wide smile spreads across her face.

Despite the loudspeaker no longer picking up the noises on the field, her deep and powerful voice punches cleanly through the sounds of the crowd and echoes loudly across the entirety of the stadium.

“Gyahahaha!” she laughs. “Truly wonderful!”