I blinked, trying to piece together the odd circumstances. Immortal Tournament? Iron Hegemony? What was I doing here? I found my thoughts in disarray.

The voice droned on, "If you manage to survive the first round – or rather, assuming you do – you'll be granted stats and abilities based on your performance. Yet for the moment, your immediate concern should be avoiding a quick exit."

A brief pause, then a laugh, devoid of genuine humor. "It's quite straightforward. At this juncture, you are to face another gladiator in a lethal duel. The sole rule? One must endure. But don't dwell on that. If both of you perish, it's merely another typical arena day."

My heart pounded. My thoughts raced. How did this happen? I hadn't enlisted in any deadly tournament. I was just...

I suddenly remembered my girlfriend. She was heading into labor. Oh my god, the baby, anxiety overwhelmed me.

Suddenly a voice boomed!

Jag Roneo: Welcome, folks, to what promises to be an unforgettable clash in the Iron Hegemony's amphitheater. We've got an unusual matchup today, Bill, with a human wildcard entrant from Earth, making his debut in the arena, going up against Gruulak, the deep dwarf from the Gorka System.

The voice was deep and almost I swear sounded bro-ish. Another voice followed him that was almost northeastern-accented and distinctly more nasal.

Bill Ruggles: You got that right, Jag. I mean, talk about being out of your element. Our Earthling friend here probably thought his biggest challenge this year was going to be grading papers, not swinging axes in some grand coliseum. And Gruulak, bless his heart, from changing diapers to dodging death blows. It's like someone took the concept of a midlife crisis and said, "Hold my beer.

The roar of the audience was deafening, their collective enthusiasm filling the vast space. A heavy realization settled in. This wasn't just some game; it was terrifyingly real.

Jag Roneo: Indeed, Bill. Both contestants have their own unique backgrounds, but it's their heart and determination that have brought them here today. Our wildcard, despite his apparent inexperience, seems to have a knack for dual-wielding weapons, which is rare in this arena.

Bill Ruggles: Ah, the ol' double trouble technique. Most people can't chew gum and walk at the same time, and here he is, swinging axes like he's auditioning for a role in a medieval reenactment. And Gruulak – don't let his height fool you. The guy's got more grit than a sandpaper sandwich. Plus, being a stay-at-home dad on a planet like Gorka? That's like the ultimate boot camp.

My throat tightened, each swallow scraped against the stark, perilous reality I faced. Here I was, in an alien coliseum, worlds apart from my pregnant girlfriend, pitted against a nightmarish entity. All I yearned for was to return to my normal life. But as the enthusiastic crowd stressed, that was not possible right now.

So, according to the announcer, I was up against Gruulak. So not just up against the physical might of a Deep Dwarf, whatever that meant… but also the strategic acumen and desperation of a dedicated guardian. This face-off wasn't just about fighting prowess, it would also be about determination and guile, and oh yeah, it was to the death.

The chilling, intimidating expanse of the Iron Hegemony's amphitheater stretched between Gruulak and I. This combat zone was like a contradictory reflection, echoing back our distinct legacies and backgrounds. On my side of the arena, the raw, wild terrain echoed the turbulent reality of my new, jarring life. Littered with the skeletal remains of prior competitors and the oxidizing relics of battles long gone, it bore witness to the raw, undiluted life of a combatant. The pungent scent of blood melded with the tang of rust, and the erratic shimmer from a neon light threw unpredictable shadows around. That light, a glaring and ostentatious billboard, proclaimed, "Presented by the Iron Hegemony."

On the other side of the battlefield, the landscape shifted dramatically. Gruulak's domain was more refined, dotted with meticulous stone engravings and vivid plant life. Vines intertwined with the rock, and extraterrestrial flowers sprouted, contrasting the grim facade of the arena. A sign, appearing as though it was crafted from living foliage, radiated a gentle, emerald luminescence, bearing the words, "Brought to you by the Sylvan Imperium."

In the vast middle ground, Gruulak and I began our wary confrontation, our every motion calculated and deliberate. The onlookers held their breath as I, an unseasoned human, and Gruulak, the seasoned Deep Dwarf warrior, clashed blades for the inaugural time, the metallic reverberation filling the hushed coliseum.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Jag Roneo: Alright fights on! The battle's begun, and we're seeing some cautious movements from both sides. It seems they're trying to feel each other out, find their rhythm.

Bill Ruggles: Yeah, and I bet the wildcard is also trying to figure out how he went from a lecture hall to a fight to the death. Imagine explaining this one during parent-teacher conferences. Meanwhile, Gruulak's probably thinking about the chore list he's got waiting for him at home.

Our tentative exchanges soon drew the ire of the anonymous commentator, his voice, dripping with sarcasm and laced with a British accent, echoed from concealed speakers. "We are getting bored, and boredom doesn't sell. Pick up the pace, or I'll have to get creative. Consider this your lone caution."

I could sense the crowd's anticipation morphing as Gruulak seized the lead, relentlessly pushing me back. With every ground I lost, Gruulak would triumphantly raise his arms, whipping the spectators into a frenzy. Their deafening approval reverberated throughout the space, only fueling Gruulak's vigor.

Jag Roneo: The tempo's picking up now. Gruulak's pushing forward, showing that fierce resolve. But our Earth wildcard isn't backing down. He's responding with some impressive moves, showcasing his dual-wielding skills.

Engrossed in this unforgiving ballet of combat, I relied on my virtual gaming experience, utilizing my unique proficiency to handle two axes simultaneously. Most gamers avoided this approach because of the significant demands it placed on coordination and perception. But for me, it felt instinctive. The dual-wield granted me a balance absent in other combatants. Despite my stout build, my maneuvers exuded an elegance, reminiscent of a dance.

However, a critical juncture soon emerged, one that could have been my undoing. Gruulak's hammer swung in a sweeping trajectory, targeting my head. Time seemed to stretch indefinitely, and the realization dawned that I couldn't evade the impending strike. But, in a breathtaking exhibition of agility and instinct, I dropped to the ground, narrowly evading the hammer as it breezed just above me.

Bill Ruggles: Whoa, did you see that dodge? That was closer than comfort at a family reunion. Our wildcard might just have a future in this, assuming he survives. It's like watching a ballet, if the ballet involved axes and the very real possibility of death.

Jag Roneo: Absolutely, Bill. It's a dance of danger and precision. And there – a stunning spin from the wildcard, catching Gruulak off guard. This could be the turning point!

That moment jarred me back to reality, this was no game. Fear was swiftly replaced by an innate survival instinct I hadn't known resided within me. The motions I'd mastered in the VR game took over, and I began to move as I would in that digital realm - with an intensity that was both savage and beautifully controlled.

With every swing of my axes, I felt a resurgence of confidence, sensing the battle's momentum shift in my direction. The once vocal and animated crowd now watched in an awestruck hush.

Bill Ruggles: Talk about a plot twist. Our wildcard's gone from zero to hero faster than you can say "unexpected career change."

The pinnacle of our duel arrived with an unexpected maneuver on my part: I executed a rapid spin, my axe connecting with Gruulak's shield in a reverse left strike. The Deep Dwarf, evidently caught off guard, momentarily lost his defensive bearing. The announcer screamed, "Incredible! Everett's a whirlwind, look at those fluid attacks and spins. The arena has gone silent! A silence as profound as the grave!"

Completing my spin, I launched my right axe in a decisive arc, slicing deep into Gruulak's neck. The Deep Dwarf crumpled, his existence abruptly and brutally snuffed out.

Jag Roneo: And with a final, decisive strike, the battle is over. The wildcard stands victorious, though clearly shaken by the ordeal. What a debut, Bill!

Bill Ruggles: I'll say, Jag. He might not feel like celebrating, but he's earned his place in the arena today. It's a win, but at a cost. Still, you've got to admire the courage it takes to step into this world and come out on top.

Jag Roneo: Courage, indeed. Both competitors showed remarkable bravery and skill today. This is one for the history books, folks. A clash of determination, heart, and raw talent.

Bill Ruggles: And let's not forget the real winner here today – the crowd. They came for a show, and boy, did our contestants deliver. Until next time, keep your axes sharp and your wits sharper.

Jag Roneo: Well said, Bill. That's all from us at the Iron Hegemony's amphitheater. Thanks for tuning in, and we'll see you at the next battle!

The audience's deafening cheers resounded, but I felt anything but victorious. As Gruulak's lifeless form settled onto the ground. I stumbled back, nausea washing over me as the adrenaline faded, leaving a hollow revulsion in its wake. I had taken a life. I had won and would live, but at what cost?

Staggering away from Gruulak's lifeless body, the nausea finally overwhelmed me, my stomach completed its turn at the grisly sight. I struggled to keep down the bile that rose in my throat, the horrific image of the death I had dealt out seared into my mind. The roar of the crowd, their applause, and cheers seemed worlds away, disconnected from the reality of the blood-soaked ground beneath me, and then it happened, I vomited, everywhere.

Bill Ruggles: Whoa did you see that!? He just Yacked everywhere!

Jag Roneo: That’s my cue then, I can’t be around it, I’ll go too.

Bill Ruggles: There you have it folks! What a spectacle.