Chapter 40: The Terror

At the start of the deadly spectacle, Jorael was under the arena and heard a loud roar of the pounding crowd that shook the whole underground.

A tournament official announced that Princess Drahnemys had decreed the start of the fighting and that therefore the first match could begin.

The first contenders climbed the steps leading to the ring, amid a deafening roar of spectators that echoed throughout the coliseum including the basement.

"Are you shivering with fear, Goblin?" asked a Demon of the Satyr clan.

"Not really... uhm tchè!" Jorael replied by imitating the Goblins' speech poorly.

"You can drop the act...

Everyone knows you're not a Goblin." The Satyr said.

"Is it that obvious?" Jorael asked.

"Never in history has a Goblin been taller than my height...

...and you are taller than me.

Oh, I don't care, you'll have your reasons for risking so much.

By the way, I'm Froyn of the Satyr clan." said the Demon with introducing himself.

"Jorael from... yeah."

"Your number?" Froyn asked.

"7...

What about your number instead?" Jorael asked.

"5.

If we win our games, we will fight each other." whispered the Satyr as he held the bow in his hands.

Jorael was silent.

"Naa ha ha ha...

Nothing personal if we had to fight among ourselves...

But I will have to win.

For my clan, for my son." Froyn said.

Suddenly a loud roar shook the walls.

"Is the first match already over?!...

Better go get ready.

May Atremis lend us Her strength." The Demon finally said as he left Jorael, who was staring at the black-furred Satyr go away.

As Froyn supposed, the second game was starting, because the tournament attendants were calling the contenders. Jorael sat down to meditate with his legs crossed. He immediately lost himself in his thoughts, canceling everything around him:

"I have to keep a low profile, but I still know the disguise won't work...

Well, one way or another I'll be able to talk to the Queen.

Of Humans... of myself.

If she is really that old, she should know more about my Mother's clan.

Joanna... why I saw you in the Fog...

The Old Man said he doesn't know what happened and he just dismissed me saying I must have been hallucinating for whatever reason, or as he said because I'm a stupid Brat.

I don't know...

...

What about this Cursed Faction?

Are they against the Queen?

Need to collect more information...

They are Cursed... everything will be reversed.

...

They are Cursed... everything will be reversed?

...

I do not understand..."

"JORAEL, THE KRYPSTER-SLAYER!

I'm tired of calling you!

You're making the Queen and Princess wait!" the tournament attendant screamed abruptly, awakening the Traveler from his meditation.

"Oh ... sorry if I was sleeping ..." Jorael said getting up.

"Sleeping right in these moments ..." the Demon commented.

"How was the previous match?

Where is Froyn? "Jorael asked.

The tournament official shook his head and whispered:

"He died."

Jorael remained silent, as he felt bad for the fallen Satyr who left a fatherless son, but realized that this was a brutal show and that all who accepted the role of Champion, were ready to die proudly representing their clan.

"Don't let the rulers wait! Run upstairs!" shouted the Demon of the tournament.

Jorael ran upstairs to the entrance to the ring. As he exited the stairs, a bright light from the Red Sun was nearly blinding him, reflecting off the white stones that made up the ring and coliseum. A loud clamor came from the stands cheering the two contenders present in the ring.

Before Drahnemys began her speech, Jorael quickly turned to check the arena and the stands, where he saw Sulth'krag, the Goblins, and his companions cheering him. Looking closer to him, he found that the ring where he stood was a large space surrounded by the oasis' water at most a foot deep.

The Demon Princess began her speech, and Jorael raised his head to admire her. It was the first time he had seen the dark-haired Princess, and he stood in awe as he stared at her and her mother seated on the throne.

"...and Jorael, the Krypster-slayer!" he only heard because until that moment he remained as if hypnotized by the fascinating and irrepressible presence of Drahnemys and her mother. The audience began chattering loudly in disappointment at the Princess' last words:

"A Goblin that killed some Krypsters? That's unheard of..."

"That's no Goblin! Look at how tall he is!"

"Princess!" suddenly shouted the Orc standing in the ring next to Jorael, then he continued:

"Grunt… Sorry to interrupt, but this isn't a Goblin!

It's a misdeed of the Goblin clan!"

The audience started yelling and supporting the Orc because he was telling the blatant truth. Overwhelmed by all the clamor of the crowd, the Princess said:

"I consult with my mother..."

After going to whisper briefly to the Queen, the Princess returned and solemnly announced:

"The Queen said that he can fight as long as he does not lose."

The initially indignant audience let the outcome go well out of respect for the ruler, and began to applaud to start the bout. Drahnemys didn't wait too long to start the match:

"So... we can start!

If you get knocked out of the ring, you lose!

If you are knocked out unconscious, you lose!

If you give up like a coward, you lose!

If you die... you die!

May Atremis lend you Her strength!

3... 2... 1... FIGHT! "

The air was filled with screams of excitement as the two contenders looked at each other. Jorael looked closely at the Orc in front of him: he was as tall as he was but stockier and more muscular, with reddish-brown skin and a scar on his face that disfigured him and made him blind on his left eye while the other was red. The Orc with a grin began to swing his weapon, a massive wooden club, powerfully in the air ready to strike a brutal hit on his rival.

"Grunt ... I don't know who you are, but you will die!" Volkran screamed fiercely.

Jorael quickly analyzed the situation and after checking his equipment he thought:

"If I use this half-rusted iron sword that Sulth'krag gave me, I'm not going anywhere.

If only I had Crimson Justice maybe I would do something ...

Better go down with a spell, so..."

"I summon Thee strength, of Her who awakened us, Firebolt go!" Jorael falsely enchanted using the formula of Arcane Magic.

A glowing purple heptagram appeared before his hand, and Volkran arrogantly commented:

"The dumbest spell, maybe you really are a Goblin ...

I'll eat that shit! Gruntah ha ha ha! "

A two-mel-sized fireball suddenly burst out of the heptagram, moving swiftly towards the Orc.

"W-what?!" Volkran just now exclaimed surprised when the huge flaming sphere collided violently with him, enveloping him in a hell of flames that exploded shortly thereafter.

Suddenly the whole coliseum fell silent, and only the terrifying screams of pain of the burning Orc could be heard echoing across the stands and bleachers.

"Roast pork?" Kimora whispered.

"Shut up! It's not funny!

He's never able to hold back!" Cyn'Thia screamed in concern.

Volkran stopped agonizing when he passed out on the ground.

"...and the winner is Jorael, the Krypster slayer!

It was surprisingly fast! "Drahnemys announced as the entire Colosseum began to celebrate the victory.

The Goblins started screaming and jumping in their seats because this victory was more to them than it seemed.

"HALT!" Suddenly Borkan, the leader of the Orcs and the father of the Orc Champion, shouted at the top of his voice making all the coliseum silent again.

"What's up?" the Princess asked irritably.

"H-he's clearly not a Goblin!

Grunt… I demand that he take off his mask immediately!" Borkan screamed furiously.

"Be silent!

The Queen had already expressed her will abou..." Drahnemys was saying before being interrupted by the Orc:

"Shut up! I'm not taking orders from you!

Grunt… I demand the truth!"

Upon hearing those words, the Queen immediately stood up and quickly approached her daughter. For a few seconds, she stood on the balcony's edge silently staring at the Chief of the Orcs. Her gaze at the Orc was menacing and terrifying as the entire coliseum stood silent and watched the scene unfold before their eyes. The Queen finally spoke in a very authoritative voice:

"I explained to my daughter that the Goblin champion can fight until he loses, in the sense that if he continues to win there will be no problems, but the moment he loses he will have to take off his mask.

…and if there isn't a Goblin under the mask, the Goblin leader will have to pay with his life."

"B-but my Queen, it is obvious that he is an imposter.

Grunt... what's the point of letting him fight until he loses..." Borkan exclaimed a little fearfully.

"SILENCE!" Drahnemys suddenly shouted in an imperative tone, which echoed throughout the coliseum, but which strangely Jorael felt as if she had ordered his soul to be silent.

For all the stands and bleachers, as the Princess ordered, there was such silence that one could hear the pin drop. Everyone was in such unnatural reverent silence, waiting for a nod from Drahnemys that she finally spoke:

"...the winner is Jorael, the Krypster-slayer.

You can leave the arena, and uh... someone takes the burnt Orc away."

Jorael left the ring, as some attendants came to take the unconscious Orc and returned to the basement amid the roar of the audience shouting:

"Jorael, the Krypster-slayer!"

The winner descended the stairs to go underground, while the loser was taken under the arena by the attendant Demons to an area dedicated to the wounded and they left the Orc there in the company of healers, who tried to heal him with herbs and ointments. This is because a great weakness of the Demons is the fact that knowing only Arcane Magic, they cannot use healing spells to heal wounds and cure diseases.

Jorael watched quietly for a few minutes while the matches for the qualifying heats continued. The healers soon gave up on treating the Orc who, due to extensive burns on his body, was left for dead.

The Demons left the infirmary, leaving only Volkran. Jorael sneaked up and checking that there was no one around him, he cast: "Heal!"

The Orc began to heal from his burns and soon recovered even though he was still unconscious. Once Jorael was sure he had healed Volkran, he left, climbing the stairs and heading to the Goblin stands.

Once he arrived, he said without anyone noticing he was there:

"So ... what did I miss?"

All the Goblins turned and began cheering for his victory. Salgh'krag said smiling:

"Tchà... I was a bit hesitant but now I'm sure my father told the truth!"

"How did I do?" Jorael asked.

While all the Goblins were complimenting, Cyn'Thia couldn't take it anymore and screamed:

"Bad! You exaggerated!"

"I just enchanted Firebolt..." he said apologetically.

"What?! It was too big!" she complained.

"I can't make it smaller!" he replied.

"Ah ah ah! Again, with the lovers' quarrel..." Bromur said laughing.

"SHUT UP!" Cynthia and Jorael both screamed.

"Tché... if the Queen took a stand to defend you, you must have impressed her." Sulth'krag said.

"Do you think so?

I was taken by surprise when I first saw her and the Princess..." Jorael said as he approached the clan leader's seat.

"Tché... they're both looking down here now that you've arrived, while a match is still in progress ..." the chief explained.

Jorael raised his head to check on the Princess and the Queen as they were staring at him.

"Stop!" Cynthia yelled unexpectedly, as she dragged him back to their seats behind Sulth'krag. Then she warned him:

"You will continue to raise questions and doubts if you keep watching them...

also... do you think they are... attractive?"

"They are both unique and mesmerizing, but I don't understand why this should be important in raising doubts..." Jorael replied.

"It does not matter." the Elf replied disappointed.

Bromur walked over to Jorael and whispered without anyone else hearing:

"Have you seen the Queen's big breasts?!

If your teacher had been here, he would have been so moved by such a wonder of nature..."

"Uhm... yeah..." Jorael answered, immediately interrupting the conversation.

"GOOO! Cut off his fuckin' head!" Kimora was screaming as she followed the match from the edge of the bleachers until she turned to find Jorael was there.

"Oh... ya are here.

Was the Orc cooked rare or well done?" she asked.

"It took you long enough to notice that I was here.

The Orc was close to death.

Demons have no way to heal those wounds." Jorael explained.

"What are ya tryin' to say?" Kimora asked confused.

"I healed him in secret." he replied.

"Wut... do ya know he killed Sulth'krag's son seven years ago?" Kimora asked.

"It is true?!" Jorael asked, turning his head towards the Goblin Chief.

"Tché ... it's true." Sulth'krag solemnly replied.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Jorael asked.

"Tché... It would not have mattered.

My son proudly died in a fight and honored his clan and father.

As I said, participating in the tournament is the greatest reward for us Demons. "Sulth'krag explained.

"Duh... I hate to say I agree.

I would like to participate in a tournament like this for my country.

Yet it no longer exists…" Kimora whispered.

"You heard the Queen?

She will come and get you the moment I lose." Jorael warned.

"Tché... I already know that since I signed yesterday.

…and I know you won't lose." Sulth'krag replied.

"Eh... Now I am more than obliged to win.

By the way Sulth'krag, can I ask you something?" Jorael asked.

"Tché... sure." he replied.

"The Princess, I don't know her name, after the Orc chief insisted on unmasking me after the Queen spoke, she screamed for him to stop.

Suddenly the whole coliseum fell silent.

Why did I feel like she was talking directly to my soul or something?!" Jorael asked confused.

"Tché... Drahnemys her name.

I've heard that she holds a fraction of her father's power." the chief replied.

"The power of the former King?

What do you mean?" Jorael asked again curiously.

"Tché... legends say he could roar and instill so much fear in an enemy that no one dared fight him." Sulth'krag explained.

"Legends... what is the truth?" Jorael pointed out.

"Tché ... I don't know, I'm too young compared to the Queen and the Princess. These are stories that are handed down from father to son.

Go ask Shaneh directly when you win the tournament, but remember not to talk to her daughter." Sulth'krag suggested.

"One more thing to remember... wait who is Shaneh?" Jorael asked.

"Tché... our Queen."

...

Meanwhile, on the balcony where the Queen and Princess of the Demon Kingdom sat as they watched the elimination matches unfold.

"This year there are so many strong Demons!" commented Drahnemys.

"It's a godsend, as the current generals have to retreat..." Shaneh replied.

"I know the goblin champion has aroused interest from you, Mother." whispered the princess.

"That spell was on par with one of mine ...

But to further explain why he struck me is that Goblins have never behaved like this.

They are proud. To give someone else the title of Champion... something must have occurred.

They will not resort to cheap tricks to cheat and win the tournament." the Queen explained.

"I-I figured that much..." Drahnemys lied.

"I'm trying to figure out which clan their champion comes from. The Demon clan capable of such magical power is so small you can count them on the fingers of one hand.

Yet my intuition tells me that something is wrong…" Shaneh explained.

"Oh, well, another game is over... I'm going to tell the winner." the Princess said, getting up.

"Ara ara ... the next game is Bhaal's..." the Queen said as if to mock her daughter.

"S-shut up! I don't care about him in the least!" said Drahnemys furiously as she reached the edge of the balcony.

The Queen remained silent as she watched her daughter announce the winner, but amid thoughts and hypotheses she whispered to herself:

"Jorael... who are you really..."