Episode 74: Actual Hell

Yesdar and Malaes observed the battlefield on the massive screen, scanning the scenes of carnage as thousands of combatants tore into one another, weapons flashing and blood spraying in a mad display. Somewhere in that writhing chaos, they knew, was Griswa, masked and untraceable amid the clashing hordes. Cameras caught fleeting, chaotic glimpses of the arena, offering no clear view of any one contestant, instead shifting from angle to angle, immersing the viewers in the sheer brutality of the mass battle. The sand quaked violently when a colossal shockwave rolled through the battlefield, toppling weaker fighters. Yesdar and Malaes exchanged a knowing glance, understanding that only Griswa could have struck with such force.

Beside them, Virumi leaned in, eyes riveted to the screen as it briefly centered on a masked figure standing as the camera focused on him. Her heart beat faster, and she nudged Yesdar. "That's Griswa! Wait, he's…wearing a mask?"

"Yes, but that's definitely him! And he's went completely overboard with that!" Malaes scowled, crossing her arms and glaring at the screen. "Why does no one ever listen to me?" Her tone turned exasperated, and her expression, tinted with annoyance, lent her an unexpectedly cute look as she pointed accusingly at Griswa's figure on the screen.

Unfazed, Yesdar shrugged. "If everyone's wearing masks, I should've worn one too back then." He made the remark offhandedly, as if oblivious to Malaes' comment.

Virumi, sitting beside him, gasped in protest, her eyes practically sparkling with pounding hearts. "No! Yesdar-sama! If you wore a mask, the world would have never known the handsome face of the man who won the duel competition, noi!" She leaned closer, but Yesdar dismissed her entirely, his gaze steady on the screen. The commentator, meanwhile, continued his rambling, adding to the anticipation that hung over the crowd like a coiled viper, ready to strike.

As the tension in the arena escalated, a new, unmistakable menace made its way onto the battlefield.

The Army of Titans surged forward, their hulking forms approaching the center of the battle with rumbling footsteps that shook the ground. Contestants who had just witnessed Griswa's devastating power turned now to face this fresh horror, a threat perhaps even greater than him. A massive 28-meter giant led the approaching horde, its silhouette a shadow of imminent doom, piercing through the crimson fog. His voice boomed with chilling clarity, a call to arms laced with contempt.

"Who attacked our brother?!" the giant roared, his tone dropping into a deep, guttural laugh. "Roshyak-shyak-shyak-shyak-shyak-shyak-shyak!!!" Each word seemed to vibrate the very air, casting sand and dust into turbulent eddies. "To be defeated by insects is a shame! Roshyak-shyak-shyak-shyak!" The atmosphere grew electric, a living force that struck fear into the hearts of many contestants. Griswa, however, merely raised his gaze, his eyes resting on the hulking leader of the troop with unsettling calm.

Contestants scattered across the field reacted with a mix of nerves and resolve. Some trembled visibly, terror evident on their faces; others gritted their teeth, bolstering their courage as best they could. They had prepared themselves for this—those who weren't ready would never have entered the competition. But there was an unmistakable weight to this confrontation, a forthcoming promise of violence that chilled even the most seasoned fighters.

A nearby contestant shouted, "I heard more than 15,000 of the hundred thousand contestants in this battle are giants!" His words resonated, casting an uneasy pall over the crowd as the number sank in.

The entire stadium seemed to pulse with tension as the commentator's voice cut through the chaos, his tone high-pitched with exhilaration. "NOW A WHOLE ARMY OF GIANTS IS COMING!! WE HAVE NO SINCERE IDEA WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT! ARE THEY HERE TO CHALLENGE THE MAN WHO JUST KNOCKED A GIANT DOWN WITH ONE PUNCH?! THROUGHOUT HISTORY, MANY HAVE FOUGHT GIANTS AND EARNED FAME, BUT ONLY TWO HAVE TAKEN THEM DOWN IN ONE MOVE—THE MASKED MAN AND JESDALA! AND MIRACULOUSLY WE'VE WITNESSED BOTH OF THEM TODAY!"

Griswa fixed his gaze on the giant leader, and something shifted within him, a faint curiosity turning his cold attention to the giants' manner. Beyond the rage and violence of this competition, beyond their monstrous size and shape, something deeper unsettled him. Their words weren't merely spoken out of pride—they pulsed with hatred. These giants saw the smaller contestants as nothing more than insects. But what fed this seething disdain? A loathing that thickened the air, palpable in every roar and threat.

The giant leader continued his mocking tirade, his voice rose above the din. "People who beat our brothers are our enemies! Titans who lose to these insects are no longer our brothers! They are a stain, a shame to our entire race!"

An undercurrent of doubt slipped into Griswa's thoughts, the echoes of the giant's voice settled within him. What else is wrong with this place? With this country? With just the territory of Mordul Uls? The strangeness of these giants, their burning hatred, hinted at something darker—something that lay well beyond the mere madness of this competition. Yet it was not their existence that surprised Griswa because anything could exist with the source of life and energy. It was the their energy of hatred, the downright force of their contempt for the smaller race, that made him pause. 

From within the throngs of contestants, the heated shouts of defiance erupted like wildfire, voices raised in fury against the titan's words.

"How dare you call us insects?! The way we kill, the way we slaughter—after we feast on your lifeless bodies, you'll understand what true strength looks like!"

Another contestant spat, "Exactly! That barehanded, masked man defeated your brother with just a punch! Weak doesn't begin to describe you!"

"Before we crush one another, we'll crush you and your brothers!!"

"We'll slaughter you and feast on you!!"

The giant's booming laugh interrupted them, reverberating across the battlefield. "YOU SAY YOU'LL FEAST ON US?! THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES YOU INSECTS! ROTTING INSECTS WHO DESERVE TO BE CRUSHED LIKE FOOLS! ROSHYAK-SHYAK-SHYAK!!!" He bellowed, laughter turning to a roar of rage. The tension soared as the smaller contestants, still seething, hurled insults back at the titans.

"You're just oversized bodies with oversized egos! That make you oversized weaklings!"

"You can't give a shitpile of a scare with your oversized bodies that got no strength, you guys are just bark and no bite!"

"You guys will be taken out with one blow!" 

The giants' anger flared, transforming the arena into a battleground of words, a roiling maelstrom of fury. Griswa watched, understanding with brutal clarity that this wasn't getting limited to a mass battle where people would desperately kill to win money. No, it was now turning into a war of two races bent on annihilating each other. This was more than understanding where humanity lies. Now a brutal war got masked as a tournament, where death would be celebrated and only one race would stand unconquered.

The crowd erupted into chaos, the spectators shrieked their opinions, the commentator shouted to be heard over the din. Contestants, giants, and onlookers all roared, voices rose like an eruption, blending into a cacophony of taunts, threats, and oaths of slaughter. Even those among the audience who were mainly normal beings, booed the giants, their shouts of disdain melded into the chaotic anthem of the arena.

In the midst of this bedlam, the titans' hatred reached a fever pitch, and the normal contestants' fury mirrored their rage. The two forces began to march toward each other, each side fueled by an unstoppable drive to obliterate the other.

Griswa remained still, absorbing the sight with a rare intensity. He hadn't come to this battlefield for mindless bloodshed, nor was he here to kill needlessly. But if he could knock out everyone in this arena, it might end the fighting altogether, sparing the crowd a massacre of epic proportions. Yet the question remained: How?

Griswa wasn't suppose to use his powers to expose himself as a god. Otherwise, he could've knocked down these hundred thousand contestants in one strike. And by mistake if he killed them with that one move, that'd become the exact opposite of what he'd aim for.

The madness spiraled ever higher, and though his thoughts sharpened with every passing second, one question stuck on his mind, drawing his focus deeper. Why was there such hatred? The giants stampeded forward, their immense feet crushed bodies underfoot. The strongest contestants climbed on their bodies, blades flashed as they slashed into the titans' throats. Yet even as Griswa prepared himself to stop this carnage, some thoughts burned in his mind, clear and unrelenting.

How far does insanity and secrets go in this country?! Forget country, in just one territory, in one city?! People are in such bad conditions that they release their frustrations by killing other people even if its not necessary for winning the money and improve their financial conditions. And now this is becoming a fully-fledged war! This needs to be stopped now itself! But what do I do?! I thought this was gonna be interesting to fight, but this is just the next level of chaotic carnage!

"THIS IS BECOMING WAY TOO CHAOTIC! THEIR HATRED IS FLARING SO HOTLY, THEY'VE FORGOTTEN WHY THEY ENTERED THIS COMPETITION—THEY'RE WARRING AGAINST EACH OTHER!" The commentator's voice cracked with urgency, his tone electric. Griswa, standing amid the rising fury, felt trapped in indecision, his mind raced as the intensity grew around him. But then, his senses tingled. From above, a faint pulse of energy flared, and he noticed a single red flame, brighter than blood, searing through the sky like a burning lens flare, deepening the crimson haze.

The very ground split with flame!!!!! A wall of red fire burst forth between the two warring groups, forcing them back, stopping them cold!! Weapons melted in its heat, and the flame stretched as wide as the battleground, halting them all in awe. Confusion flashed in every face; nobody understood who or what had conjured such an intense, brutal border!! Griswa's eyes sharpened, tracing the red glow upward—there, hovering in the sky, it was a masked figure in a stone hat!!

The figure descended, dropping like a comet toward the flame's edge. DHUSH! The impact erupted sand clouds from the ground, and the flames flared even brighter. Yesdar, Malaes, and Virumi, watching from the screen, were struck silent, before Malaes finally managed, "Is… that?" "Fire Commanding?" Yesdar answered, completing her thought, as Virumi gasped, "So, this is the technique you've learned too noi??!!"

"SHH, VIRUMI, DON'T SHOUT!!" Yesdar whispered urgently.

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!!" The commentator barked in an instinctive reaction!

Griswa stood motionless, his gaze locked on the figure who stood by the wall of fire, his presence amplified by the fierce red glow at his back, his hooded cape billowed, adding to his presence. The figure removed his stone hat, and his half-red, half-blue hair billowed in the hot, sand-laden winds. Slowly, he lifted his hands to remove his mask. The arena held its breath. "HE'S REMOVING HIS MASK—DON'T MISS THIS REVELATION!" barked the commentator.

As the mask fell away, the screen zoomed in on his features, each detail sharp. His face was angular and striking, high cheekbones casting shadows under his intense gaze. His deep-set eyes glinted with unfathomable intensity, and his strong jawline gave him a look that was both powerful and haunting.

"WAIT A SECOND! AM I SEEING THIS RIGHT?!" The commentator's voice surged with astonishment. "WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!! WHAT AM I SEEING??!! THIS IS!! THIS IS ANOTHER PROMINENT FIGURE OF MORDUL ULS!! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! THIS IS OLZAAR ERONAS!!! HE HAS REVEALED HIMSELF WITH A TRULY EPIC AND SURPRISING SUPERMASS ENTRANCE!!!"

The crowd's reaction was a deafening roar. Awe turned to chaos as the commentator continued, his tone incredulous. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND! A LINE—A WALL OF FLAMES?!! RED FIRE?!! THIS TRICK IS SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY!!! HOW CAN A NORMAL BEING DO THIS?! IS THIS TRUE MAGIC?!! HIS FINGERS ARE LIT WITH FIRE!! IS THIS A NEW TECHNIQUE DISCOVERED BY THE WARRIOR KING? CAN ANYONE ELSE DO THIS? HOW IS THIS EVEN PHYSICALLY, CHEMICALLY, BIOLOGICALLY, EMOTIONALLY, FREAKINGLY POSSIBLE?! FIRE ERUPTED FROM NOWHERE, FROM LITERALLY NOWHERE, AND WHAT DO WE EVEN CALL IT?! LOOK AT THAT! ZOOM IN! WEAPONS ARE MELTING FROM A DISTANCE! THAT REALLY IS FIRE! HOW THE ACTUAL HELL DID THIS ARENA BECOME AN ACTUAL HELL???!!!"

The crowd, contestants, giants, Griswa himself, Yesdar, Malaes, and Virumi—all of them were stunned by what they witnessed, confusion and shock warring in their expressions. "That… was Fire Commanding," Griswa thought, struggling to accept it. "Impossible without intense training for an Aearthaling. So, who is he... really?"

The commentator, finding his voice once more, filled the stadium with words steeped in reverence. "FOR THOSE UNAWARE, OLZAAR ERONAS HAS BEEN ON A FIGHTING HIATUS FOR YEARS! HE TOLD US HE WAS TRAINING TO ACHIEVE THE IMPOSSIBLE! FOR THOSE NEW TO THIS ARENA, THOSE WHO HAVE NEVER HEARD HIS LEGEND—HE'S FOUGHT IN EVERY ARENA OF MORDUL ULS AND HAS WON THE TRUE TITLE OF THE WARRIOR KING! THIS MIRACLE SAYS HE'S BECOME A PHENOMENAL FIGURE OUT OF OLD LEGENDS WE USED TO HEAR FROM OUR PARENTS AND CLASSICAL TV SHOWS!! TODAY, HE'S RETURNED IN A WAY NONE COULD'VE EXPECTED—NOT EVEN THE NEW LEGENDS WHO MADE THEIR NAMES HERE TODAY!"

"WE WELCOME BACK ONCE AGAIN! THE ONE AND ONLY WARRIOR KING OF MORDUL ULS! OLZAAR ERONAS!!!!!"

Pronunciations:

Olzaar Eronas: [OL]+[ZAAR]+[EROW]+[NAS]