The next day, they dragged Eray out of his cell.
His eyes struggled to adjust to Umbra's pale purple sun after days of darkness. His ears filled with a deafening roar. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of voices…
This was an arena. But it did not resemble the Roman colosseums of Earth. It was a massive pit of death, carved into something like a volcanic crater, surrounded by sharp obsidian towers.
The stands were packed. Elves, half-giants, horned demons, and many other races he did not recognize shouted with hunger for violence.
They threw Eray into the center of the sand. He wore nothing but torn, bloodstained trousers. No armor. No weapons. His upper body was bare, and the marks of yesterday's torture were still fresh.
At the highest point of the stands, on a crystal balcony floating in the air, sat Emperor Kaelthas. Beside him was the silver-haired menace, Princess Velira. As she sipped from her goblet, Velira whispered something to her father.
The Emperor raised his hand with a bored gesture. The arena fell silent.
"Today," the Emperor said, his voice amplified by magic and echoing across the valley,"we will test a 'rare' toy my daughter found in the forest. A human. But one that bites."
The crowd burst into laughter. The word human was an insult here. A joke.
The massive iron gates on the opposite side creaked open.
Three Orcs stepped out of the darkness. Unlike common belief, they were not stupid creatures. Their bodies looked like gray stone, their eyes glowed red, and they carried massive axes made of bone. They were twice Eray's height.
"Rip him apart! Rip him apart!" the crowd began to chant.
Eray stood up and looked around.
There was nowhere to run.
No exo-suit.No rifle.No knife.
Only his mind and that dangerous magic that demanded a price remained.
The Orc at the front looked at Eray's weak state and let out a rough laugh.
"Little piece of meat," it said in broken Common Tongue."I'll swallow you without chewing. I love human flesh."
The Orc charged, swinging its axe. The ground shook.
Eray took a deep breath.
The plan is simple, he told himself.Don't die. Don't perform. Just survive.
When the Orc brought the axe down, Eray threw himself aside at the last second. As the axe smashed into the sand, Eray grabbed a handful of it and hurled it into the Orc's massive red eyes.
"Ahhh! Cheating filth!" the Orc shouted, rubbing its eyes.
The crowd booed. They wanted blood and spectacle, not a street fight.
But Eray did not care.
He was not a gladiator. He was a soldier. And in war, fights were not fair. You fought to win.
Using the Orc's blind spot, Eray slipped behind it and kicked hard at the soft area behind its knee. The Orc staggered but did not fall. Its skin was too tough. Pain shot through Eray's foot.
Physical strength isn't enough, he thought. I have no choice.
The other two Orcs were charging in. His time was running out.
He reached into the darkness inside him. But this time, he did not let it explode like in the forest. He tried to control it, to restrain himself. He gathered the power only in his right hand. Black, smoky energy wrapped around it.
When the blinded Orc turned back, Eray lunged forward and pressed that darkened hand against the Orc's chest, right over its heart.
"Die," he whispered.
There was no visible wound. No blood.
But the Orc froze, as if an invisible hand had clenched its heart from the inside. Its eyes rolled back, foam spilled from its mouth, and the massive body collapsed onto the sand with a heavy thud.
For a moment, the arena went silent.
There was no blood.No decapitation.
Just a touch, and a quiet death.
This was not the kind of violence they were used to. This was subtle, cold, and terrifying.
Even in this chaotic dimension, such magic was considered taboo. Feared.
In the balcony, Emperor Kaelthas leaned forward for the first time. His eyes shone.
Velira smiled faintly.
"I told you, Father," she whispered.
But the fight was not over.
The remaining two Orcs hesitated when they saw their companion die without reason. Then they roared in rage. One attacked from the right, the other from the left.
After using the magic, Eray felt his head spin. A thin line of blood ran from his nose. His strength was draining fast.
He barely avoided the axe from the right, but the Orc on the left slammed its fist into his stomach.
The air was knocked out of Eray's lungs. He flew back several meters and crashed into the sand. The taste of blood and grit filled his mouth. He heard his ribs crack.
The Orcs loomed over him. Their axes rose.
"Now you're finished, human!"
Through blurred vision, Eray looked toward the stands.
Princess Velira had raised her hand.
She gave a signal.
Thick vines suddenly burst from the arena floor, wrapping around the arms and legs of the two Orcs. Before they understood what was happening, they were lifted into the air.
Velira stood. Her voice echoed through the arena.
"Enough. The trial is over."
The crowd began to grumble, but no one dared to object to the Princess.
Coughing blood into the sand, Eray tried to push himself up. Velira's gaze rested on him. There was no praise in her eyes. Only the arrogant satisfaction of someone who had acquired a new pet that turned out to be more talented than expected.
The guards approached Eray again. This time, they did not drag him. They lifted him by his arms.
"Walk," one of the guards said."You're lucky, slave. You're going to the palace."
As Eray limped forward, clutching his aching ribs, he left behind one dead Orc and thousands of confused spectators.
In that moment, he understood.
He would not be killed.
But the fate he saw in the Princess's cold blue eyes could be more humiliating than death.