Outside the pocket world, back in the coliseum, in a reserved chamber, hundreds of competitors suddenly reappeared. Many collapsed to their knees, gasping, their trembling hands feeling for wounds that no longer existed. Some screamed, others laughed hysterically, as if their minds were still trapped in the massacre that had unfolded in the forest.
It was impossible not to carry the trauma, the echoes of that illusory death seeped into the flesh, as if every bone still remembered the pain. And yet, everyone knew the truth: no empire would ever sacrifice its greatest geniuses for the whim of a visitor from another race, not even for Drakk, the legendary blacksmith.
The tournament artifact had fulfilled its purpose, expelling them before the final ruin.
In the stands, however, the atmosphere was the opposite. Euphoria and shock lit up every face. The audience had witnessed countless battles at once, but what truly captured their attention were the events of the final minutes.
A variant mage manipulating nature at will as a weapon of ambush, entangling beasts and competitors alike in a brutal spectacle. But the grandeur slipped out of control. The very creatures of the tournament, meant to be obstacles, became relentless predators, piling up by the hundreds in the same place and even attracting beasts that should never have appeared at this stage of the event. The arena had turned into a scene of unparalleled carnage. When the final roars faded and silence fell, only one certainty lingered among the spectators: the announcement made by Valerius, the Queen's Elder, had not been a metaphor. This wasn't a game, it was a warning, and life itself was like that no one would ever give you advance notice of the moments that could end it.
It was a tournament, but it was also the empire humbling the egos of its talents, so that they might bloom with wisdom.
**
Inside the cave, the muffled sound of groans blended with the calm whisper of the night wind outside.
The suffocating silence was broken only by my own movements as I tore strips of cloth to improvise bandages and applied my medicinal salve.
"When I get back, I need to thank Hera!"
The stench of blood and sweat clung to the damp air. I sat on an uncomfortable stone, my skin burning from head to toe, and began tending to the countless wounds spread across my body. The scrape of torn clothing against the cuts only made the pain worse.
"At this rate, I'll run out of spare clothes before we're halfway through the tournament," I muttered, frowning at the sight of my second outfit already in tatters.
Every thread seemed to carry the weight of my own bad luck. I let out a deep sigh, the cold cave air filling my lungs, and let my gaze fall on the figure sprawled on the ground. The limp, exhausted body of the mage seemed utterly spent, as if her life had been drained away.
'…And now what do I do with this?' I thought, tightening the makeshift bandage on my arm. 'I could just finish this damned woman off!'
It was easy to think, but it just wasn't in my nature to do something like that.
She had pale skin, a face speckled with faint freckles, curly brown hair plastered to her sweaty cheeks, and curved black horns that gleamed naturally like stars.
Her destroyed clothes barely concealed the delicate, fragile skin beneath, clear signs she was the daughter of some noble house.
"Heh." I let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"Perfect… as if getting tangled up with maddened beasts and groups of competitors in the very first hour of the tournament wasn't enough, now I have to carry around a troublesome damsel too."
**
I estimated about two hours had passed. Everything outside was already dark, and the first day of the tournament had shifted into the night hours. I rested my head against the wall, arms crossed, but my eyes stayed fixed on the one pretending to be unconscious since I'd carried her here.
Her breathing was far too calm, too steady… this wasn't unconsciousness, it was stubbornness. Maybe she was watching me just as I was watching her.
"Hey, you," I murmured lazily.
"It's been a good ten minutes since you woke up. Gonna keep pretending? Or do you want a round of applause for your performance?"
She stayed motionless, but I didn't back off. I took a deep breath, fighting down the laughter already rising in my throat.
"By the way… you do realize your tunic is so torn I've already seen more than I should, right? Your breasts are out in the open. If you keep this up, I'm going to have to start charging admission."
"Ugh…" A muffled groan slipped from her lips.
She shot up, arms crossed over her chest, trying to hide her partial nudity. Her face flared red like a torch, and her brown eyes shook with both shame and anger. She shrank into the corner of the cave like a cornered animal, still trying to salvage some shred of dignity.
"Don't look, you pervert!" her voice came out as a shrill whisper, caught between fury and embarrassment.
I raised a brow, feigning seriousness.
"Look? Me? Relax. Trust me, if I actually wanted to look, you'd already be charging rent for space in my memory."
"Now that you've stopped pretending to be passed out, let's have a very serious talk. And the first question is—"
An electric spear sparked to life in my hand, humming as if eager to leap at her any second. My eyes scanned her coldly, noting every tremor in her skin, every nervous twitch of her lips.
"What should I do with you now?"
"No… no, no, no. Wait, wait, wait!"
"Why shouldn't I? You're a competitor, and a very dangerous one at that. You caused chaos beyond measure in mere minutes, and you wield an affinity I don't even understand."
"You're too dangerous!" My voice thundered through the muffled space of the cave. The blue glow revealed the sweat dripping from her forehead and the fear carved into every muscle of her body.
"Do you have any idea how many were eliminated because of your little game with wild beasts? I'm sure plenty of competitors are traumatized right now with memories of being ripped apart alive by a swarm of monsters."
She swallowed hard, still trying and failing to cover herself.
"I… I didn't mean to! It wasn't… it wasn't just my will. You don't understand! If you take me out now, you'll regret it!"
I took a step closer, the crack of electricity echoing against the stone like a thunder held in check.
"Then talk. Convince me in a single minute, or this spear goes through your heart."
"You're going to need me. If I get eliminated, you won't last much longer either."
My lightning spear flickered, faltering for a few seconds, but those words… they didn't sound like mere taunts. There was real weight in that claim.
"I don't see how that could be true. I've managed just fine on my own, and I don't know why I'd need you," I muttered, frowning.
"I'll help you defend yourself."
"Defend myself from what?"
"From the representatives of the twelve families."
My expression darkened as a few considerations raced through my mind.
"And how do you know that?" I pressed, the tip of my electric spear hovering near her neck as she leaned against the cave wall.
"I am Norwenna Plumbarius," she introduced herself.
I tried to recall what I knew about the twelve families, but honestly, I didn't have much information on this one. Even at the banquet, when I'd been introduced to the Plumbarius representatives, they'd been two old men—oddly enough, twins.
"And why should I trust you, if you're also one of the twelve families' heirs?"
Her answer came firm, without hesitation, as if she had already anticipated my suspicion.
"I wasn't chosen for the commission. My brother was."
The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. My mind burned, sparks of electricity running wild through my body. I couldn't tell if I'd just stumbled upon an unlikely ally or if I was being ensnared by the most treacherous of traps.
The lightning in my hands faded completely, and the cave fell into silence, broken only by Norwenna's ragged breathing.
She looked exhausted, but there was still a stubborn gleam in her eyes, a quiet refusal to give up. Slumped against the damp wall, her torn clothes exposing deep scratches, bruises, and bare patches of skin, she looked like a warrior clinging to her last shred of dignity.
"So… all this determination is just to prove you're better than your brother?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "You're willing to risk the families' animosity over a blood feud?"
She sighed, turning her gaze away for a moment, as if my words had cut deeper than any wound she'd received. "It's not just rivalry… it's survival. If I don't prove I'm capable, no one will ever see me as anything beyond his shadow. And I can't stand being someone's shadow anymore."
I stayed quiet for a few seconds, studying every detail of her expression. The fragility was there, clear as day, but none of it felt fake.
"You don't strike me as the type to accept a life in obscurity," I murmured, folding my arms. "Even so, I don't get why you weren't chosen for that special group that's after me. With your power, it would've made sense."
Norwenna let out a short, bitter laugh.
"My power only has value if the battlefield favors me. My affinity depends on the environment… it's a coin toss. And no one planning something big puts their faith in chance."
Then she lifted her chin, meeting my eyes directly.
"But I… I trust my own luck."
"Phew…" I exhaled, the air heavy in my chest as I tried to piece together the board in my mind.
The chaos of the forest still rang in my senses, and Norwenna's presence didn't help at all. Her eyes had an ambiguous gleam not fully hostile, not trustworthy either and it made my instincts twist uncomfortably.
Was she just another desperate competitor, or a piece planted by the commission already hunting me? In the end, my decision came like a cold blade: trust her, at least partially. If it was a trap, I'd deal with the fallout, but in the meantime, I'd squeeze every fragment of information I could out of her.
"Well…" I looked up, letting my expression harden as a slow, malicious smile curled on my lips. "If we're going to work together, we first need to settle the price for me saving your skin from the Behemoth."
My voice carried a touch of sarcasm, but deep down, it was just a way to test her reaction. Her face stayed firm, though her shoulders betrayed a hint of tension. It was as if she had already braced herself for some kind of demand—maybe even worse.
"How many beast eggs did you manage to grab in all that chaos?" I asked, my tone cold and sharp.
The silence that followed gave me the sense she was weighing every word. At last, Norwenna looked at me with eyes heavy with a strange sadness, almost as if she were staring at a thief robbing a starving child of something precious.
After a long sigh, she replied, "I have seven in total."
The smile on my face widened, dark and almost cruel. I tilted my head slightly, like a predator toying with its prey. "I want six."
"No… no… if I only keep one, I'll have to start hunting all over again," she protested.
In response, all Norwenna saw was the lightning swelling brighter, the hiss growing sharper, and my smile stretching into open mockery.
"You shameless, perverted, greedy thief! I'll give you half. I'll keep four, and you take three," she tried to bargain, her voice trembling between fury and desperation.
The tip of the spear glowed, shifting from yellow to a deep, cutting blue, crackling so vividly it made the cave's shadows dance around us.
"Damn it!" she cursed, throwing her hands up in surrender, though her eyes still blazed with anger.
"Watch your mouth, young lady!" I shot back with playful reproach, my amusement plain.
"Go to hell!… But if you're going to take my six beast eggs, then I want some of that stuff you put on your wounds," she snapped, her sharp tongue trying to claw back some ground.
My brow rose instinctively. Her request was odd, and I didn't miss the chance to mock her:
"What are you, some kind of voyeur who gets off on watching men rub ointment on themselves?"
"No, no!" she blurted quickly, flustered, her cheeks flushed in a way that was almost funny given my teasing.
That was when a thought struck me. Tilting my head slightly, I asked:
"You were awake this whole time, weren't you?"
A crooked, enigmatic smile spread across Norwenna's lips, as if she had finally revealed a card she'd been holding close.
"Anyway… I'm Glenn," I introduced myself belatedly, though it was hardly necessary by now.
"Yes, I know exactly who you are… disciple of Elian Cadmus Nox, and pawn of the queen," she replied, every word laced with a mix of irony and gravity, like a sentence being passed down.
"Norwenna!"
"Yes?"
"I think you should change your clothes."