Walking toward the side entrance, and with the barracks looming ominously above me, I feel a grim sense of anticipation. A group of soldiers wait outside, blocking the path into the arena.

"Ah, there he is," one of the soldiers drawls, his eyes narrowing as he looks me up and down. "The worm."

He gestures for me to step forward, a cruel smile curving his lips as he inspects me.

"Follow us, little worm," he growls, turning his back on me and entering the compound.

I take a deep breath and look outside one last time before walking in. I'll be honest, it does feel slightly anticlimactic. The interior of the corridor is not ominous, just boring—and slightly dirty. The Elves escorting me to wherever I need to go look pretty skinny for military guys. I mean, sure, I did get some muscles, but they, too, could have tried harder. Plus, if they call me slurs, I do think I have the full right to body shame their puny chicken legs.

We arrive in a dreary, cold room devoid of any charm. The walls are an unappealing gray, rough and unpolished, while the floor is just dusty earth that makes my boots thud in a monotone rhythm. A single, dim lantern hangs from the ceiling, casting long, wavering shadows.

"Now, undress," one of the soldiers orders, a sick smile playing on his lips.

"What?" I snort in return.

"You heard me, worm. Off with your clothes. We need to make sure you're not carrying any concealed weapons or magical items," the soldier says with a cruel smirk.

I heave and toss the giant sword onto a wooden table that creaks dangerously as it accepts the weight. Then, I start undressing.

There's a palpable sense of enjoyment in their eyes as they mock my discomfort, turning this necessary security check into a humiliating spectacle. Their laughter echoes in the cold room as I reluctantly begin to undress.

I see their eyes widening slightly when they see the muscle on my frame.

"I hope you enjoy the spectacle," I say, "I know that among the military, it's a common practice to, you know, make use of the usable when other resources are not available."

"What did you just say, worm?"

They are even worse than Appius's duo of idiots.

"Nothing, I just want to be done with this."

I keep undressing and simply toss my clothes at them once I'm done. I've already left my bag of holding with Magister Mulligan, knowing there would be a check. I only have some simple clothes and the giant Vanedeni sword on me.

I remain in my underwear as they ruffle through my clothes with disdain. One of them looks weirdly at one of my sleeves and rips it off.

"Fuck, are you stupid?" I ask the guy, moving a step forward. "I don't have a spare on me, you goddamn idiot."

"What did you call me, Human?" The man snickers before tossing my clothes on the ground and stomping on it.

"Done having fun?" I say once they all step back. My voice is steady, though I can feel the anger simmering inside me. It's one thing to expect a fair fight—it's another to be disrespected like this.

Ignoring my comment, one of the soldiers—taller and burlier than the others—steps forward with a weird stone in his hand and passes it over my clothes on the ground, and then moves it in front of me. He does the same with the sword, but he just frowns a few times without saying anything.

The other two are still having fun with my clothes when, to my surprise, a voice of reason cuts through the vile mockery of an inspection.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"That's enough. He's clean," a voice says. A soldier I hadn't noticed until then—a woman with a stern face and sharp eyes—stands up from a wooden stool in the corner of the room where she was sitting. Something about her tone makes the others instantly stop their shenanigans.

"Yes, [Sergeant]."

"You are all dismissed. I'll escort the Human to the arena."

They throw a few hateful glances my way before they leave, one by one, leaving me alone with the woman. She offers me a faint smile and gestures towards a nearby table with a pitcher on it.

"You can get dressed. Sorry about them," she says, her voice softer now. "Would you like some water?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks," I smile back, picking up my clothes with a sigh.

I don them, but when I see the missing sleeve on my shirt, I feel a mote of frustration.

"They are a disgrace to our institution," the woman says, pouring the glass of water and offering it to me again, even though I already refused.

"No, thank you," I reply, looking at my missing sleeve quizzically before getting an idea. I inhale deeply, grab the other sleeve, and tear it off.

"Well, how does it look?" I say, flexing both of my biceps for the girl.

"Impressive for a Human," she says. "If you are done, pick up your weapon and follow me."

I nod and put the sword back on my back with its special harness.

"Is that a Vanedeni sword?" She asks as I follow her through the door.

"Oh, yeah, big time. You know what they say, right, big sword…"

"Little brain?"

"Something like that," I wink at the [Sergeant].

"Not many would be as brazen as you, Human. Few remember the Vanedeni swords, but you'll find some pretty vocal haters. I know we have a handful of Vanedeni adventurers on the continent, but you are making yourself an even bigger target by wearing that sword. And even with the [Featherweight] Enchantments, how will you swing that thing around? Did someone advise you just to get a big weapon, hoping you would win like that?"

I actually start laughing when she’s done talking.

"[Featherweight]?" I snort. "Fuck me, I wish!"

But we are already in front of the entrance to the arena proper, which I cross without looking back. The woman, from behind, almost trips forward.

"Wait, you don't have an Enchantment that makes it lighter?!" She shouts, not following me.

I ignore her, though, because a cacophony of noise greets me. The arena is already filled with spectators, their collective anticipation creating a palpable tension that seizes the air. The moment they catch sight of me, a chorus of jeers and insults rings out.

Without any warning, a rain of objects flies at me from the crowd.

"What the—"

Handfuls of worms, rotten fruit, and all manners of detritus rain down on me. I can feel the slimy worms squirming against my skin and the rotten fruit exploding on contact, leaving me covered in a foul-smelling mess. The crowd roars with laughter and only seems more encouraged to keep throwing shit.

I look at my stained clothes and at the missing sleeves.

"I guess I don't have to worry about the sleeves anymore."

I see Clodia and Flaminia sitting close together, so I wave to them as I dodge a rotten lidula directed to my face. They look flabbergasted, and I almost feel bad for them before something catches my eye.

There's a young boy sobbing, drowned by the shouts of the people directed at me. The boy’s small frame is shaking with the force of his tears. Standing next to him is a hulking man, presumably his father, who continues to shout insults at me, oblivious to his son's distress.

Moving away from the path that leads to the center of the arena, I dodge the incoming detritus and walk toward the boy.

I've seen this scene before—a father too angry to even look at his children. I was lucky enough not to suffer from any of this, but I've seen friends ruined by this kind of behavior.

And so, using a little magic, I create a small horse made of [Light].

"Hey there! Catch!" I shout to the kid, sending the [Light] construct galloping through the air. The kid looks at me, startled, before catching the small horse. The boy’s sobs slowly ebb as he watches the ethereal animal dance in front of him, his tear-streaked face lighting up with wonder.

He's not crying anymore, and, if you believe it, his father has barely noticed what I've done.

"You worm! Amorium should be freed of all your disgusting kind!"

But now, the kid’s father’s voice is not one of many anymore… It's become one of the few.

Most of the people in the arena saw what I just did.

If I tell the father to take care of his child, he's going to beat him up or something, I think to myself, shaking my head and turning my back to the center of the arena.

Even though there are still idiots throwing shit at me, the jeers and laughter have died down as many watched the kid on the bleacher.

It takes one gesture of kindness, just one.

From somewhere amidst the crowd, a cheer spikes up, quickly spreading throughout the arena. The hostility doesn't dissipate entirely, but for a brief moment, there’s a lull – a shared breath of wonder and joy before the impending duel.

“Looks like the worm has some tricks!” Someone shouts from the crowd, a note of reluctant admiration in their voice.

As I smile at the arena, turning slowly by 360 degrees, I finally notice that the gate opposite the one I came from is opening.

A silhouette makes its first step into the arena.