image [https://imgur.com/E75vPyu.png]

Luka drank slowly from the frothy light beer. It was warm and pleasant. He had been drinking much more recently, but he felt no judgment from Samantha. The last few days had flown by, and he had done… nothing. That was okay, right? He leaned against the back of the smooth white wooden benches at the milling Chosen. Little colorful flags flew overhead, and there was an air of relaxed festivity. They were all so young, so eager. Many of them walked around with their chests puffed out, clearly thinking that they were the main character of some story. Luka guessed they were. Many of them would be dead before the year was out, the early level adventurers simply did not know their own limits.

Samantha sat next to him, looking around intently, smiling and drinking from her endless water pouch. Luka shook his head very slightly, smiling. She really had a way with people, and he had never even thought to consider how many lightly enchanted artifacts ended up in the hands of Villagers. Luka let himself relax, the warmth of the alcohol pleasant. He had spent so much of his life, more than he had ever realized, driving himself purely for others. He felt mixed up and confused inside, but at least now he could let himself enjoy a few simple pleasures. He felt like his mind had aching parts that he didn’t want to confront, and perhaps it was okay to simply not think about those things. To exist only in this moment.

He closed his eyes. A deep resonating chime echoed across the gathering, repeating five times before stopping, and he slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at the source. A colorfully dressed man had gotten onto a podium, and was raising his hands. A hush fell over gathered people, occasionally disturbed by laughter or shushing sounds.

“Chosen Heroes! You have come from many places, many worlds, to be here today, and each of you contains a spark of Destiny within you!!” Cheers erupted, as well as laughter. Small bursts of magic erupted into the air from various skills. “In order for our Lord to better understand your potential, you will all undergo a series of trials. The top ten shall each be given a mighty artifact! The person who comes in first will be given the Allcut Blessed Returning Blade! Few can withstand its edge, and no matter where it is, or you are, it will return to you with a gesture!” Gasps and more laughter emerged from the crowd. Luka drank some more beer.

The man laughed as well, and waggled a finger. “Just don’t be in the last fifty spots! That wouldn’t be any fun!” More laughter. The man continued on, talking about how lucky they were to be in this domain, how much glory could be expected, and how evil the opposite side was. Luka found himself frowning as he sipped. It was all so… simplistic. But, then again it was a pep talk being given to mostly teenagers and young people. He knew the actual politics of it would be much more complex. He personally did not know the complexity, now that he thought about it. He glanced at Samantha, to sooth his mind. She was bright eyed, sitting up straight, a big happy smile on her face. It helped to see her this way. In the end, maybe it didn’t have to be that complicated. She would help bring about more goodness to this world.

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“Now Chosen Heroes, and ONLY Chosen Heroes, please come to the pavilion. The testing… shall begin!!” Everyone cheered, and Luka smiled at Samantha. “Don’t worry, you’ve got this!” She smiled at him, looking only a little bit nervous. “Thanks Luka… I hope I do okay!”

The next few days were not what Luka expected. Almost all the tests involved individuals tackling false monsters, moving through obstacle courses, or doing tests of strength. Samantha failed them all miserably. She was only given a short sword, and it was as if she had zero points in her Physical stat. How could she not hold off a single training golem? Her attacks had no strength behind them, and she seemed to have no skills that allowed her to compensate. Other heroes used magical energy, dramatic gymnastic abilities, or simply brute forced their way through. Luka grew increasingly worried, but calmed himself with the knowledge that this whole competition was simply one to establish an overly simplistic ranking. In the long run none of it would matter.

Samantha emerged from a pavilion on the third day, panting, soaked in sweat, and covered in small and large bruises. Her smile was not present. She slumped down onto a bench next to him. “I… expected more… team based… competition…” She closed her eyes, clearly about to fall asleep right there. Other people were laughing at nearby tables, making friends and allies, but Samantha’s performance had not gone unnoticed. The absolute lowest performers had been shunned, and the fact that she hung out with a “villager” had also lowered her in the eyes of the others.

Luka set down his drink. “I know you have the heart of a hero. In some ways I think this will be good for you. I know I have been… a bit protective… and perhaps I have been overly so. I apologize for that. You may have some bumps from the competition, but that’s all you have. Out in the real world being this outclassed would have surely resulted in your death.” Samantha made a sound that could have been one of affirmation, or just the sound of her going to sleep.

Luka smiled. “Look, get to bed early tonight, tomorrow is the final day of the competition. You won’t be getting that fancy sword, but we can enjoy the city and recover, okay?” She nodded slowly, smiling a little bit. Gods but he felt protective of her. He also felt an irrational anger that she was being put into this situation in the first place, but he fought that feeling down. This WOULD be good for her.

Two guards moved purposefully towards their table. “Samantha? Please come with us, there is a special testing round you are a part of. Please take your things with you.” Samantha glanced at them, then nodded. “See you later Luka.” She walked off with one of the guards as the other looked around, checking a list.

Luka smiled at him. “Oh? Doesn’t she get a chance to rest?” The guard looked at him. “Ah, a Greeter, sorry sir, I didn’t know you’d be attending. Oh, no she is in the lowest fifty of all the Chosen here. She has to go into a Death Match round.”

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. “What?” The guard kept reading down his list. “Yeah, it’s a fight or die style event. She doesn’t NEED to die, but ha… well if it happens it happens. They’ll go against some convicts, and if the convicts win they get to go free, and if the Heroes win then they also get to go free. Ah, there we go. Gregor? Yes you.” He pointed at a man sitting by himself some distance away. “Come with me sir!” They walked off together.

Luka sat, staring after the retreating guards. His mug of beer slipped from his fingers, soaking his front.