Diana cast a sideways glance towards Roethus as she took her seat in Benvolio’s luxurious spectator’s box. The lord himself squirmed in his golden seat nearby, leaning forwards to get a better view of the arena floor.

“Alright!” Benvolio tapped his feet in anticipation, fingers drumming on the railing as the two men took position on the sand-covered clay. “Fight!

“Ah, he moves quickly,” Diana said as the match began. The mage, Jericho, was it? He seemed competent enough. A flame ward casting into fireball into… was he maintaining his fighting spirit under his flame armor as well?

“He’s certainly cautious,” Roethus said. “Although if he was aiming for redundancy, an earth-fire mix would have been better.”

“It would slow his chain casting to a halt, though,” Diana replied. “He’s not on the level of-”

“Shhh!” Benvolio glared over at the duo, head snapping back towards the fighters as Christoph dodged around the fireballs to Jericho’s side.

Roethus nodded to his lord, shifting in his seat before turning towards the elven woman with a lowered voice. “Did he appear, then?”

“The World Serpent? No, he didn’t.” Diana matched Roethus’ own tone, careful not to disturb Benvolio’s enjoyment of the match. “It was to be expected, though. Five years is not a long time to those who rule over the world.”

“I’d advise you not to speak those words to our lord,” Roethus said. “He missed you sorely.”

“Not enough to send aid,” Diana replied.

“Of course not,” Roethus said. “He is not the kind to send assistance you if you choose to leave him. Nevertheless, I’m thankful for your silence, and your success.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Diana said. No, the past five years were the easiest of them all, but before that…

“Even if you were cast from the Milwood and abandoned by your god…” Roethus shook his head. “There was an easier path.”

“Strength means nothing if it isn’t yours to wield,” Diana replied. “I’d much rather gain power of my own than rely on borrowing it from others.”

“Ah! His staff!” Benvolio jumped from his seat, bouncing on his feet as he leant forwards against the railing. “Ah! He was stabbed!”

“Don’t worry about Christoph,” Diana said, waving a hand as the duel came to an abrupt halt. “He’ll be fine.”

“He’s taken his staff?” Roethus asked, peering down towards the sand below. “What’s he… oh.”

“He’s eating it!” Benvolio said, pointing excitedly down towards the arena floor. Diana winced as Christoph crunched down on the expensive-looking crystal. That wasn’t something that the tournament staff could repair.

…

“Get lost.” Christoph waved the medic away, stepping closer to the bars which separated the contestants’ area from the arena itself. Was this where they would normally release the animals from?

“Sir, your wounds…” The healer hovered by his side, seemingly unable to leave. Christoph ignored the short man’s words, waving a hand to shoo him away. At this point, he’d be more worried about patching up his bloodstained shirt than his body.

“Just leave,” he repeated, leaning forwards to watch the next duel as it unravelled. An axe-wielder against a swordsman? Both fighters were good, but the axeman was already bleeding from several cuts to his legs and shoulders. His heavy armor might protect him from the slow crushing blows of the monsters, but it left too much of his skin bare to be effective against a human opponent. Not that his opponent was a human, though – both of the warriors this time were of the beast clans.

There seemed to be very little human warriors in the Gold ranks of the guild, actually. Many mages, but the beast races had the upper hand in raw power when it came to close combat. Christoph studied the fight intently, glancing back between the two duellists as the battle continued. Silently, he prayed that the axe-wielder would be the winner. Not because he thought he deserved it, or that he would be an easier opponent to defeat in his next fight, but because the axeman was a lizard-man, and his opponent a canine. Christoph didn’t want to face one of their kind if he could help it.

The furred swordsman ducked under his opponent’s swing, moving in past the reptilian man’s range with his blade poised to cleave his opponent across the torso. Ah, that was a mistake. Would the axeman win? His weapon might be unwieldy at such short ranges, but the lizard-man stood a whole head taller than his opponent, his muscles bulging under his scaled skin. Slamming a knee into his opponent, the larger warrion followed up with a vicious headbutt, swinging his axe out as his opponent drew back from the attacks.

The healer at Christoph’s side went pale as the canine’s arm fell to the sand, rushing out the door and into the arena as the match was called to an end. Could the tournament staff really treat wounds of that level? Perhaps they had some rare items or potions in addition to their healing magics. Christoph reached down into his bag and popped some small crystals into his mouth, slowly working his way through his supply as the medics did their work. Sitting back down against the opposite wall, he stretched out as the next duel began to play out. He’d only bothered to watch the last one because it decided his next opponent, after all. Should he leave the coliseum for today? No, the following match was something he couldn’t afford to miss. After this sorry display, it would be Gideon’s turn to fight.

…

Plume’s breath caught in his throat as the crowd erupted around him. The sun beat down on the coliseum, and he could feel the weight of its rays even through the city wards. A similar warmth rose up from the middle of the arena as the combatants fought, a pressure welling out over the crowd as they responded in kind. The half-elf blinked as he was smothered, the energies combining to crush him into his seat. A hand clapped onto his shoulder, and he flinched violently as Whistler let out a sigh.

“Overwhelming, isn’t is?” Whistler asked, his usually grim expression twisting into a smile. “I can’t imagine you’d have ever experienced this sort of thing out on the plains.”

“You’re right,” Plume replied. “The plains are a place for people to live freely, without the gods looking down on them, but this…” The last match had been somewhat lacklustre but this power, the sheer energy and force of will that radiated from the adventurers as they fought… No matter which way he looked at it, the beings before him had left the realm of man long ago.

“Do you see?” Whistler said. “They stand so far above even us of the silver rank.”

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“It’s impossible,” Plume replied. The warriors continued to clash before him, neither of the beast-men content to back down from their contest of arms. “There’s no way…”

“I’d be inclined to agree, but you shouldn’t give up so easily. Look.” The adventurer pointed up past the half-elf, and Plume turned towards the direction of his gesture. Behind him, King had risen from his seat, arms raised as he cheered on the fighters.

“Even King is energetic,” Whistler said. “The same King which you defeated so quickly in your first match. He trains every day, you know? He never fights in the pit, but he trains.”

“Even for an elf, the distance is too far to cross with just one lifetime,” Plume said, slumping back in his seat. “Besides, King’s probably just excited because of the money he’s got on the matches.”

Whistler blinked across at the pirate before bursting into laughter, easy chuckles ringing out between the overwhelming roars of the crowd. “You might be right,” he said. “King has been short on money lately. But even so, he’ll be enjoying his success if the rest of today’s matches go his way.”

…

Christoph’s bare feet pressed into the sand as he shifted his weight, feeling his toes sink into the damp sand below the surface. Had it rained overnight? No, this was a desert, of course it hadn’t rained. He’d left the arena yesterday after Gideon’s match, making his way to the inn well before night had fallen. Diana had thankfully not been waiting for him, although he’d awoken to a faceful of her blonde hair once more. Leaving her behind, he’d continued on to the arena alone. If she wanted to sleep, who was he to make sure she arrived to her appointments on time? Frowning up at where the elf sat looking down on him from Lord Benvolio’s box, Christoph returned his attention to the sand underneath him. Was this blood, then? Wriggling his toes, he frowned down at where his legs disappeared below the coarse grains. How much sand had they used to cover the arena anyway?

“Hey.” His opponent didn’t seem to share his concerns. “I saw what you did to Jericho.”

“Oh?” Christoph ignored the announcer as he droned on about the duelists’ achievements. Such an annoying voice! The excitable-looking human reminded Christoph of some sort of rat, and he had a voice to match. Ah, he’d said the lizard-man’s name just then. “Eric, was it? Are you a friend of his?”

“Friends or not, going after his gear like that is foul play.” Eric leaned down, pushing his shoulders forwards to emphasize his muscular build.

“You know, intimidation really works much better when you’re standing a bit closer to your target,” Christoph said, raising an eyebrow. Nearly five meters of sand separated him from the irate beast-man. “Besides, disarming your opponent is fair game.”

“Disarming is one thing, but destroying their equipment?” Eric snapped his jaws, adjusting his grip on his massive axe. The reptilian man was far more beast than human, more so than any other lizard-man Christoph had ever seen. Geoff was almost simply a scaled human, and even the councilor, Harold, had an unmistakably human-like visage. This man, on the other hand, almost seemed like a lizard given arms and legs.

“Is that why you’re wearing such cheap junk?” Christoph asked, tilting his head as he glanced over the beast-man’s heavy armor. “Are you afraid I’ll ruin your precious gear? Or are you just poor?”

Eric snapped his jaws again, feet stamping down on the sand as his tail swooshed around behind him. The vertically ridged appendage reminded Christoph of the dragon he had fought, but smaller. Much, much smaller.

“Okay!” As always, it was Benvolio who interrupted his announcer to begin the duel. “Fight!”

Christoph took a step backwards, drawing a sword as his opponent readied for battle. From what he’d seen of Eric’s battle yesterday, the lizard-man favoured brutal close combat attacks over advanced technique and finesse. Christoph shook his head. He might have trouble if the warrior had been especially skilled with his weapon, but there was no way the beast-man could hope to surpass him in strength and sp-

Christoph’s eyes widened as an axe appeared in front of his face, the blazing heat of Eric’s aura washing over him as he desperately tried to move away from the incoming blade. The beast-man stepped forward, sand flying as he forced Christoph back with his continued assault.

He hadn’t been nearly so fast yesterday! Christoph struggled to deflect his blows, his limbs shaking as the heavy axe slammed his blade aside repeatedly. No, it wasn’t that the lizard-man was faster at all, had he grown slower somehow? Christoph felt a pressure pushing him across the arena, not away from his opponent but towards him. The beast-man’s magic sought to prevent him from moving away?

“Have you figured it out already?” Eric asked, stepping back across the sand. “It took my last opponent much longer than that.”

“Didn’t stop him from making you bleed all over the arena,” Christoph said. “Is this your gimmick, then?”

“Something like that,” Eric replied, conical teeth baring as he grinned. “Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to fight back?”

This beast! Had his earlier anger been a feint, as well? Christoph made a silent promise to never underestimate the beast clans’ intelligence, Cecilia excluded. That one was definitely an idiot. Still, to be able to hamper his movement to this extent… No wonder the match yesterday had seemed slow. Readying his weapon, Christoph prepared for his opponent’s next attack. If he couldn’t pull back, his only option was forward! Seeing Eric raise his axe, Christoph launched towards him. Dashing over the sand, he swung his blade up to cleave away at the lizard-man’s chest, and-

Eric released his axe mid-air, the heavy blade spinning uselessly as it began to fall. Reversing the motion of his hands, the beast-man stepped towards his approaching opponent, striking out at the smaller man with his fists. Too late, Christoph realized his mistake, the same mistake he’d seen the swordsman make just yesterday. He flew backwards across the sand as Eric’s fist slammed into his chest, his crystal sword hitting nothing but air as he was launched away. Christoph hit the sand at the same time as Eric’s axe did, the bladed weapon quickly forgotten as the beast-man rushed forwards bare-handed. Ah, that made sense. From the very beginning, Eric’s strength had been as a brawler. His magic, his taunts, even his choice of weapon were all designed to do draw his opponent closer, and Christoph had just taken his bait.