Iris observed the fervent crowd. They chattered about but Iris could not make out what anyone was saying; in the end, it felt like a mass of, mostly, positive energy.

“I do not understand,” Iris muttered, absentminded.

“What?!” Hecate exclaimed, as usual, excited.

“Why are so many non-mages, incapable of perceiving mana, thrilled about the battle? They do not understand what spells even connote when performed… it is confusing.” Iris could, to an extent, understand why they were excited on the streets but here it was different. The audience could never guess if the performed spell was optimal or a mishap, they are blind to the reality of battle. If she was level 1 and had a chance to witness this; she would be excited—as she would be witnessing how the mana flows at a higher level.

Hecate let out a pained noise and turned to the stage.

Diantha chuckled, “They are here for a reason different than what you might think. They are here to witness a spectacle, to see a colourful spell that might shake the whole coliseum, to root for either one of them to win, and to feel the exhilaration that comes from witnessing the mystical spell so close. The audience invests themselves in one of the participants, cheering them to victory. If they do, the audience, too, will feel the thrill of victory and if they lose—feel the sadness of loss.”

“A spectacle… huh?” Iris mumbled. She could not clearly understand, but it was like how she saw the dance performance the previous night and found it beautiful while being blissfully unaware if the performance was accurate or not.

….

The stage was raised a meter above the floor, with a diameter of 100 meters, enforced with runes and whatnot. It was enhanced so that no spell would reach the audience, and anything spoken inside would be perceptible to all those present. A screen hovered above the stage, high in the air, to show a zoomed-in view of the battle.

Rian Reed approached the stage, wearing a simple red shirt with black lining. He held no weapon; a sword would be expected of someone with a Knight Class. Instead, he was clad in a red gauntlet with sharp folds—just from a glance, it felt painful.

Felix also climbed onto the stage. He held a sword that he had picked up from the armory. Felix did not possess a personal weapon of his own; he refused to associate himself with one. He believed in peace, and it would be hypocritical to wield a weapon that he used for murder while believing he was striving for peace. Not that he refused to kill, he believed he had more blood on his hands than Hecate, at least.

“Felix Stel, Level 3 Knight,” Felix introduced as was customary etiquette in this kind of battle.

Rian Reed made a single tight nod which most people missed. He appeared as a stoic statue.

The Referee, an old beard that reached his chest, reiterated all the rules. “Begin.”

“I—” Before Felix could utter a word, the world flipped, a hammering pain struck his face, and his vision turned black— thump! his head met the hard floor. The impact bounced his body up, Rian gripped his shirt and flung him onto the floor again.

“Ahhh…” A soft pained moan escaped his lips. The left side of his was swollen and bloody. Blood pooled beneath his head.

Rian let go of him, “Perhaps,” He spat on Felix and turned to Lancasters’ room. He smirked as he imagined Hecate ‘Revan’ Meredith cursing. “It is not Jeremiah’s fault. It might be you who is a disappointment. C’mon, are you already dying? At least put up a fight.”

He kicked, without any force, Felix’s face as he shook off the blood and skin of his gauntlet. The smirk widened as a faint melodious scream reached his. He could almost see Hecate trying to rush to her friend’s aide and the Lancaster trying to stop her.

“I wonder, does that old warmonger care about you? Scream!” His face twisted in anger as he stomped on Felix’s powerless hand, “Call!” Rian kicked on the side of his abdomen. Felix roared in pain and twisted like a lizard’s cutoff tail. “THAT BASTARD!” Rian screamed in anger, his face completely red and veins visible. He kicked on the same spot again. His metal boots tore off the shirt and skin along with it.

“ARGHH!!!” Felix let out a horrifying guttural scream. The audience was completely silent. Some faint of heart had their eyes tight shut and ears clasped. The Magic in the coliseum made sure everyone heard everything with clarity.

“Oh My, I never knew you were so good at high notes,” Rian circled Felix, grinning in a good mood, “Let’s see if we can find another soft skin, who knows, I might create a new genre for songs— screamer or something,” He whispered jovial to an almost on verge of death Felix.

Rian kicked away his hand, “I’ve heard that rib right beneath the underarm is quite sensitive to pain— Shall we test it out,” He chuckled at a joke only he understood.

Rian stopped before he could connect the kick. It was screaming from the audience that made him pause, they were screaming at him to stop. He grinned and slammed the metallic edge of his boot into the rib of Felix.

With a wet shlik! The metallic boot met the soft skin. Unguarded human skin is incapable of guarding against an enhanced kick. The skin ripped open, and the ribs were shattered.

Felix let out a weak and broken scream and coughed blood. His body twisted and tried to move away on instinct.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“What a disappointment. You only had one job, you know, that is to scream properly. C’mon, you can’t let the audience sit in mourning, sing!” Rian chucked, he was very amused by the crowd's love for the boy. Amusement died as he took another slow step toward Felix.

He had not expected the following outrage. As if a swarm of ants, the audience rushed down the coliseum, seething and screaming rage. They did not reach far. A transparent barrier that was erected to stop spells from reaching outside also stopped the audience from reaching inside. This outrage was born from people’s care for Felix. He was loved, in the most literal sense, by every inhabitant of Sangfroid. He had brought peace that had affected their life in a good way. Yet, it was born before that, from a decade-long time they watched him grow up to be a splendid young knight. He was the son of Sanfroid than he ever was of Lord Jerimiah.

“HAHAHA,” Rian laughed, he couldn’t believe the wisdom of the crowd, what were they expecting? He walked to the edge of the stage to see with his own eyes what face the foolishness had.

“Are you capable of saving him from me?” Rian asked the man he met eyes with.

“Not me, our ruler will!” The man screamed and tried to reach for Rian. He had the eyes of a madman.

Rian blinked, he knew better than anyone when someone was fearless beyond sanity. It made no sense, yet he could not stop himself from laughing like crazy, “Who? That Lancaster— She is not capable of stopping anything. Neither when I break her little knight nor when I slaughter you…”

“I dare you, Hit me!” Man screamed, unyielding in the face of a Level 5. His fanatic belief in his ruler, Diantha Lancaster, and the trust that she would save him made him unwavering. His belief was that the only reason Lady Lancaster had not already saved the Young Knight was for the peace of Gracia. If the man in front of him struck him— Lady Lancaster would intervene and by extension save the Knight. This was the mindset with which every man tried to enter the Stage.

“You wish!” A thunder clapped in the sky above as Rian raised his hand. Followed a deathly whisper in his mind.

Focus on the boy.

Rian's face dropped colour as he returned back to the broken boy. He noticed Felix was still in his senses, and beamed in cruel joy, “Oh boy, will you look at that!”

….

"BASTARD!!" Hecate screamed at the top of her lungs as Rian struck Felix for the first time. She slammed her fist onto the glass in front of her. Hecate gritted her teeth. She had barely seen that coming, meaning Felix wouldn't even know what had happened.

Ilona was impassive; she had seen that coming even before today and had suggested to Felix not to participate. Diantha was expressionless yet her clenched fist indicated how tense she was. Nash had already rushed out, screaming she was going to stop the match. Iris dumbly sat on her seat, she did not want to believe this situation.

“Why is the referee not stopping the match?” Iris questioned.

“He is purchased or threatened,” Diantha answered.

“Then—We need to save him,” Hecate whispered, eager to jump down from here.

“We canno—”

ARGH!!

“That Bastard! I’m going to save Felix.” Hecate muttered through her clenched teeth.

“You will not!” Diantha ordered in a hardened voice.

“What!” Hecate Shrieked. Her shoulder slumped, “at least, order them to stop the match.”

“Right now, my powers are much like yours,” Diantha replied. Her eyes widened as she heard the collective scream of the crowd.

She and others in the room gawked as the next scene unfolded. Hecate turned away her face as Rian kicked Felix in the ribs.

Followed the crowd’s descent.

“W…What is happening?” Hecate muttered.

“The crowd wants me to stop the match,” Diantha muttered in disbelief. She witnessed as Rian and the man screamed at each other.

“Iris when I say, strike down that man,” Diantha ordered. Iris turned to Ilona. They had an understanding. She won’t do it unless— Ilona said so. Otherwise, she would have long saved Felix.

“You can follow her words,” Ilona replied.

Iris raised her hand and a loud thunder cackled. “You wish!”

"Strike him before he hurts that man," Diantha looked pissed. She opened and closed her hand as if trying to grab something.

Yet, He returned without doing anything.

Rian quietly returned to Felix, “Oh boy, will you look at that!”

Iris also noticed that Felix should have passed out, yet he had not. This was bad. She turned to Ilona, “Is it?”

“I believe so…” Ilona replied in a concerned voice,

Rian grabbed Felix by his hair and plummeted him into the ground again.

“Master, Why won’t you stop him?” Hecate asked.

“I am bound to Roundtable’s treaty, I cannot interfere in any political matter of Laks,” Ilona replied.

“Then, I WILL!!” Hecate screamed. Flame wrapped around her body, bursting into small pieces as they bloomed.

“That’s what they want,” Diantha muttered, she had no power behind her voice.

“Then, what do I do? Watch him die?”

“Should I strike down that wretched beast?” Iris asked. She found this whole ordeal sad and Evil. She did not even understand what was happening and Why? Diantha was ready to make her kill that vile beast for an unknown man but not for Felix.

Diantha sighed, “You may…”

“No! She’s stronger— I’ll save Felix and she can win the tournament…”

“Wait—” Diantha made one last ditch effort to stop Hecate.

Hecate rushed out, melting the glass panel. A roaring flame dragon descended down the stage, dousing everything in crimson heat.

….

Rian Reed grabbed Felix by his blood-drenched hair. Raised his fist and mana began to gather in it. He felt sudden heat and looked up at the crimson monstrosity descending upon him.

He grinned and shifted his focus back to Felix. He had been explicitly informed about this situation. Now, he would kill Felix and take a hit from Hecate. He was not to evade or block her. She was weak and at most would mildly burn him. He did not understand his Master’s fear of the young fire Witch, but he was not one to question his lady’s wishes.

Rian Reed let go of the head and swung his fist at him. His fist met a hard surface. The flaming dragon descended down the stage, engulfing everything in flames. Felix’s lifeless body met the ground with a wet thump as it fell into a puddle of his own blood.