Hours passed as Jeff sat watching the subsequent inquisitions and show trials, and Sharkey’s M.O. soon became painfully obvious—to mercilessly exploit the Contestants within his little fiefdom. He utilized various methods to extract value from his subjects: forcibly ceding their territories to his masters, the Vogels, converting them into cultivation resources, harvesting Pain mana through the runic connections between them and the cauldron, or utilizing their entertainment value in his infamous fighting pits.

Ten more manacled prisoners ahead of Jeff in the queue received similar treatment.

As well as newly arrived Contestants, all ensorcelled by Bonifak’s geas, who were interrogated and then branded, there were other Tantalus dwellers accused of various petty crimes, such as taking food from the banquet hall without credit, or failing to pay taxes. These unfortunates were subjected to extended bouts of torture and extortion. Sharkey’s thuggish enforcers only dragged them off the battlements when they had been completely humiliated and their compliance was assured.

One poor wretch was not so fortunate. A starved-looking batrachian, whose skin hung loosely on his frame, was singled out for the ultimate punishment. This ’third time loser’ had long since lost any remaining cachet with Sharkey. Visibly too weak for the fighting pits, he appeared almost catatonic, no doubt burnt out by the constant torture. Bereft of any remaining territory on his home-world to cede, he was selected as a grim example.

At a signal from the goat headed alien, the assembled soldiers around the battlements began to call out for their troll sergeant.

“Ha—zi—narr!”

“Ha—zi—narr!”

“Ha—zi—narr!”

The cry went up, echoing across the battlements, the soldiers rhythmically stomping their boots and beating their swords against their shields, each syllable of Hazinarr’s name reverberating across the hot, night air.

The brutish troll duly appeared, stepping out through the same doorway Jeff had entered. Hazinarr strode onto the terrace with a sinister 'shit-eating' grin plastered across his face.

The troll had swapped out the large axe he had been holding in the bailey below, opting instead for a huge war-hammer equipped with a claw-like spike on one side. Its dark metallic head was studded with rivets, ominously encrusted with dried, dark blood.

Dragging the war-hammer along the flagstones, Hazinarr crossed the terrace at a slow, theatrical pace, savoring every step.

The sharp spike at the end of the weapon scraped against the stone floor, creating a disconcerting sound, like fingernails on a chalkboard, as he deliberately drew out the moment.

He approached the slumped, hopeless looking toad-man, standing facing him with a gloating sneer.

Hoisting the massive war-hammer above his head with a two-handed grip, he suspended the ominous black metal-headed weapon in the air directly over the victim.

The creature’s mottled features bore a forlorn but noble expression. To Jeff’s eyes, it appeared he was resigned to his fate.

Towering over the kneeling batrachian, the troll activated a Skill, a yellow nimbus flaring briefly around his head and upper torso. Jeff toggled [Mana Essence] and observed with interest the intricate pattern of mana trails flowing from the troll’s Core into his upper body, coursing through his energy highways and into his shoulders and arms. Jeff was able to make out a complex rune form above the troll’s head—one he recognised from his studies as the symbol for Growth.

Jeff observed the troll’s already burly physique expand visibly, the muscles layering his entire upper body almost doubling in size as the Growth mana flowed through them.

With his mana sense active, he felt a massive buildup of power begin to coagulate around the hulking troll, streamers of energy blazing around his meridians. The display of raw power was designed to intimidate, the troll’s enhanced might becoming the focal point of the terrace.

The waves of power surged through Hazinarr’s arms, building in intensity, until with a sudden snap, like a circuit breaker flipping, the energy was abruptly released. The hammer dropped, its motion so meteoric it appeared almost instantaneous. At the same time, the head of the war-hammer seemed to swell up somehow, expanding to encompass the entire footprint of the kneeling batrachian.

A massive shockwave ripped across the terrace, a thunderous crack of released energy blasting out over the battlements and echoing away from the Citadel. Jeff felt sure that if the castle had been constructed in a traditional Earthly style, from mundane brick or stone, the entire structure would have collapsed under the sheer force of the impact.

Jeff blinked away the afterimages of the energy release and scanned the area for any sign of the toad-man, but there was nothing left to find. Hazinarr’s hammer-drop Skill had utterly obliterated the unfortunate creature. The troll hefted the enormous hammer back up into a ready position against one shoulder, revealing nothing more than a thin smear on the flagstones—a two-dimensional silhouette of the toad-man in his final, tragic pose.

The victim had been completely pancaked. Sickening applause and cheers rang out from the audience of Sharkey’s callous enforcers.

“There’s no kill like overkill,” declared Hazinarr with relish, his sadistic grin widening.

Finally, it was Jeff’s turn.

Uiro-ku ordered him to stand, and he was marched down the length of the terrace towards the three seated figures.

Jeff noted the ten armed and armor-clad soldiers standing against the walls lining either side of the space as he passed. Surreptitiously eying their stats, he began to formulate an escape route, should things go south.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Hazinarr stood to one side, leaning against the haft of his war-hammer and glowering at him. Once again, Jeff felt that same visceral dislike for the troll rise to the fore.

Gazing down at him from the raised dais, the three scrutinized Jeff as he approached. He in turn surreptitiously peered back at them, keeping his face muscles slack and devoid of expression, mouth slightly ajar, maintaining his ensorcelled facade.

“His attributes are high, sir,” the Ejdar leaned in and murmured quietly in Sharkey’s ear. Thanks to his [Covert Surveillance] Skill, Jeff’s newly heightened hearing was able to pick up the whispered conversation.

The Undead emissary meanwhile, sat up straighter in their chair and peered at Jeff, their interest obviously piqued.

“Strong, I like that…” purred Sharkey. He turned to Retrenka. “Fresh blood! Not the usual genetic garbage…He would be a welcome addition to our fighting pits.”

Retrenka, veiled eyes under their cowl still fixed firmly on Jeff, responded slowly, in a distinctly feminine voice.

“I sense a confluence of Fate surrounding this one…”

“Glogly Sector Command has expressed special interest in this case, sir,” interjected Leypal. The Ejdar was busy consulting his console and continued, paraphrasing the information scrolling across his screen.

“Advent of subject’s planetary integration is set to occur within around two weeks. it’s expected System subsumption will convert the planet…erm..” He broke off to scroll through the console some more, “ err… Earth… into a Rare-Tier Grade C planet.”

Retrenka and Sharkey exchanged surprised glances for a moment, their attention then flickering back to reappraise Jeff speculatively once more. He desperately attempted to maintain his befuddled facade, whilst trying to process the vitally important information being presented.

Leypal looked up from his screen, turning to face Sharkey directly. “I have just received a DM from Mahalath—my clan brother overseeing the portal from the training grounds to Tantalus,” he said, his voice tinged with irritation and spite.

The Ejdar pointed an accusatory finger at Jeff, his eyes narrowing.

“He’s demanding financial compensation from this one for destroying the mountain. Apparently, he used some sort of mana-manipulation technique that destabilized the energy levels on the summit…”

“What’s more…” the Ejdar continued, his nose buried once again in his screen, “a personal note from the office of Satrap Osmius himself, appended to the file… its seems Our Lord of Pain has taken a personal interest in these ‘humans’. Initial scans show them to be a species with a rich emotional culture and a sensorium much suited to his…predilections…”

Jeff didn’t like the sound of that, not one bit.

More whispered conversation ensued between the three, mostly gossip and conjecture concerning Satrap Osmius’s mana experiments, whispers of torture and enslavement—a program that apparently stretched across the whole sector and had led to the genocide and destruction of countless species.

The more Jeff overheard, the darker his mood became. He had to get a warning back home, somehow. It seemed that Earth’s integration into the System universe would inevitably lead to huge upheaval, which the Vogels were no doubt planning to capitalize on.

Jeff’s number one priority, of course, was to stay alive and get through to the Elimination Rounds. He resolved to keep calm and stifle any angry exclamations, standing mutely on the spot, awaiting an opportunity.

Unfortunately it was at that moment his luck ran out. A sudden shout rang out from the entrance to the terrace—Jeff recognized the voice of the Stygian Elf, Bonifak, calling angrily across the top of the castle as he rushed towards the dais.

“That’s the one who defeated my geas! He should have been restrained!”

In response to the alert, Hazinarr grimaced and strode over to Jeff. Brushing past the Wolfen soldier, he laid a meaty palm on Jeff’s shoulder.

“We’re not expecting any trouble here, are we?” He growled menacingly in Jeff’s ear. Jeff stiffened, tensing up.

By this point, Bonifak had arrived, panting, to stand in front of the council of three, where he paused a moment to catch his breath after the long climb up the stairs.

“He’s the one I told you about,” he addressed Hazinarr after nodding respectfully to Sharkey, “Couldn’t get the compulsion to hold. Him and that spider friend of his…”

Jeff tensed further at the mention of Fracta, but continued to keep silent, biding his time.

“Well, well! Not quite so docile after all…You’re not attempting to trick us, are you?” Sharkey queried, his jovial tone belied by the hard glint in his amber eyes.

The troll’s grip on Jeff’s shoulder tightened.

“Normally at this stage, prior to branding…” Sharkey paused briefly to lovingly caress the edges of the cauldron before continuing, “we would offer Contestants such as yourself a choice. In return for certain concessions, you have the option of joining the rest of us here in the Citadel, where you will be allocated one of the luxurious guest rooms, given access to fine dining in the banquet hall, as well as various other free entertainments and pastimes.

The alternative is life back over there,” Sharkey gestured dismissively over the ramparts, in the direction of Tantalus Town, “where you take your chances with the rest of the general population.”

Turning to the Ejdar, Leypal, Sharkey snapped, “Satisfactory first tribute for Our Lord?”

Leypal consulted his console once more before replying, “A southern landmass, one called Australia by the natives, should sufficiently address the starting requirements.”

Australia? Jeff’s mind flashed back to childhood memories—playing a strategy board game, where he attacked other player’s pieces scattered across a map of Earth. The eventual destruction of rival armies led to the winner achieving total world domination. Now, Jeff felt like he was a player in a similar game, for real territory, but without any armies to back him up.

Raising his head to address the group, Jeff decided to play it cool and fish for more information before making his move.

“Thank you for the gracious offer, but I would prefer not to hang around too long here in Tantalus. Could you direct me to the exit portal please? I plan to enter the Tournament Elimination Rounds immediately.”

His request was greeted with a moment of stunned silence. Then Sharkey began to laugh, a strange goat-like bleating sound that echoed across the battlements. The laughter quickly spread to the assembled soldiers and soon the entire terrace was practically doubled over in mirth. Hazinarr guffawed loudly and simultaneously squeezed Jeff’s shoulder with his massive mitt, deliberately grinding the joints together in his vise-like grip.

The only person who did not join in the laughter was Retrenka. The Undead emissary remained silent, her obscured features cocked to one side, cooly analyzing Jeff with an unwavering gaze.

“By the way,” continued Jeff, pretending not to notice the laughter, “have you seen my friend Fracta? We were planning on moving on to the Elimination Rounds together.”

Sharkey continued to chuckle, making a show of wiping tears from his eyes.

“Ha…Ha…We will have much fun together, Earth-man! Unfortunately your request to leave Tantalus is denied. Access to the Elimination Rounds has been temporarily closed due to a technical issue with the link. We estimate repairs will take at least another five to ten years.”

Sharkey continued, his tone shifting, growing darker and more menacing.

“As for your friend, the spider… that vermin has already been judged and found lacking, I’m afraid.”

He shifted on his couch, glowering at Jeff. His amber eyes narrowing to sinister slits.

“You should choose your traveling companions more wisely, dear Jeff. Associating with genetic garbage on the Register of Proscribed Species can be seriously detrimental to your overall chances in the Tournament.”

Jeff stood straighter, his muscles tensing against Hazinarr’s restraining grip. “What have you done with her?” He demanded angrily, his voice rising with barely contained fury.

All pretense of civility now vanished, Sharkey glared back at him, his expression darkening still further.

“Why Jeff, I’m surprised you haven’t already noticed. Your bug friend has been right here all along. Turn around and see!”

Chuckles broke out amongst the assembled soldiery once again. Hazinarr, the brutish troll, chortled and swung his arm across Jeff’s back, pulling him to face in the opposite direction, towards the entrance to the terrace.

Jeff allowed himself to be propelled around, a dark sense of foreboding rising in his chest.

Turning to face the doorway and the battlements beside it, Jeff initially saw nothing amiss. Then he raised his head.

Next to the terrace towered another of the spindly steeple-like structures Jeff had noted earlier. As his eyes rose inexorably up the side of the pointed column, he was faced with an awful sight.

There, high above the assembled court, hung Fracta.

Crucified.