The festival of the gods and the game of power

The tournament of close combatants was an event that thrilled and captivated the masses. But before the actual event began, the arena witnessed a divine intervention that amazed the audience.

Valric, who was already known as the host of the tournament, was accompanied by three other impressive deities: Skargul, the god of berserkers, whose eyes glowed a menacing red; Olfgar, the muscular god of barbarians, who loomed mightily with his two massive axes sparkling in the light of the arena; and Caelum, the gentle god of pugilism, whose presence filled the air with a palpable calm.

The four gods offered a brief but spectacular demonstration of combat. Skargul unleashed his raw, impetuous power, Olfgar wielded his axes with such speed and precision that it seemed as if he were dancing, and Caelum displayed a combination of grace and speed that astonished the audience. Valric, although he did not fight, directed and moderated the performance so that everything went smoothly.

After their impressive display, the gods stepped back and Caelum, with Valric at his side, explained the rules of the tournament. In a soft voice that carried through the coliseum, he explained that there would be no preliminaries, but a direct knockout system in the main arena. The audience applauded in anticipation of the coming spectacle.

Valric nodded in agreement and added that the fighters in this format would give their all to win, promising a tournament that no one would soon forget. With these words, the tournament of close combatants began, and the tension in the arena was palpable.

The fights were intense and fierce, with the arena floor covered in blood, sweat and tears. The audience cracked with excitement with every punch, kick and throw. And although the day was still young and the sun was high in the sky, many participants had already left the tournament. Only 64 of the strongest and smartest fighters remained.

As the sun reached its zenith and the shadows grew shorter, the gods once again entered the arena. Valric, accompanied by Skargul, Olfgar and Caelum, decided it was time to take a short break. They wanted to give both the remaining fighters and the enthusiastic audience a brief respite.

With an impressive power, they transformed the arena. The stands began to float, giving every spectator the perfect view of the action. A magical zoom effect ensured that no detail was missed. And for certain spectacular moments, a "slowmote" spell was used to show the action in slow motion without harming the fighters themselves. This offered the audience a unique experience and made the competition even more captivating.

But that was not all. In a surprising gesture, the gods invited the nobles and the elites from their luxurious lodges to a sumptuous feast. This was not only an opportunity to refresh and dine, but also a rare chance to interact directly with the deities. It seemed that the gods wanted to know the opinions and feelings of their creations as they ate and drank together.

But there were also some gods who enjoyed watching mortals hurt each other. Thus, Calamora, the goddess of disaster and tempest, together with Crimsona, the goddess of blood, invited Mortis to their table. Likewise, the Emperor of the Sand was invited. Both factions sat opposite each other, which neither Mortis nor the Emperor liked. But apart from initial evil glances, nothing much happened.

Crimsona opened the conversation and, although seated next to the emperor, she addressed Mortis directly, almost adored and touched by Calamora. "Your child has shown excellence in the tournament. To accomplish this as a witch is truly impressive. After all, it is not for nothing that I am also in charge of the vampire arts and witchcraft along with the Goddess of Poisons and Alchemy."

"I thank you," Mortis replied with a bow, accepting the praise. But to his surprise, Crimsona handed him a small gift. "This is for Zara. You need not be afraid, it is my honor to present this to such a talented young witch."

Mortis accepted the gift with a cheeky grin and gave a provocative look to the emperor, whose neck seemed to be discoloring with anger. The emperor wondered if he was dreaming. That gods were handing out gifts and stalking his enemy - and then they were dark gods, too. Didn't any gods take pity on him? Or did they just delight in seeing him suffer?

Mortis obviously enjoyed the visible displeasure on the emperor's face. With a confident expression, he stood up and addressed him.

"How do you intend to make amends? What you have done to my kingdom, my nobles, and my people with your manipulative shenanigans?" He paused for a moment and looked directly at the emperor. "How about we make peace today? It would only cost you ten noble families, 100,000 citizens, and most importantly that puppeteer who should be nailed to the wall. Does that sound fair to you? Keep in mind, your little game cost me a lot."

His voice had a threatening undertone, and everyone at the table could sense the tension between the two.

Furious, the Emperor of the Sands jumped up and said mockingly, "Pah! I owe you and your continent nothing! It is widely known that your continent is ruled by incompetents, that you exist only to be exploited and to work for the strong. I have only tried to do the best for the sake of my people and my continent. I wanted to end the suffering by taking care of you. Don't you see how we are clothed in the finest clothes and metals? Unlike you, we have an empire worth defending. You have neither honor nor backbone. Why do you think you have waited to be under my leadership? Why have so many betrayed Shiva and gone to war against her? Even you as the new ruler will not be able to improve this continent without strong hands. The people deserve a ruler who will tell them how to think, act and behave. Your policies are making the people weak and throwing them to the wolves. You should step down and leave this office to a true ruler, you peasant!" 

Mortis withstood the emperor's mocking gaze as he hurled out his words. A tense silence fell over the hall, each spoken word seeming all the more forceful in the silence. When the emperor finished, Mortis let the words hang in the air for a moment before calmly replying.

"Your ostentatious robes and gleaming metals may impress," Mortis began calmly, "but they do not define true power or true honor. Your idea of leadership and dominion is one of arrogance and superficiality. You mistake oppression for leadership and tyranny for strength."

With a firm step, he stepped closer to the emperor, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Perhaps there were some who tried to plot against Shiva. But she held this country together, and despite her weaknesses, she was not a tyrant like you. She ruled with decency and care. Anyone who is willing to follow your deluded ideas of rule does not deserve to belong to the nobility."

Mortis' voice hardened. "I may be a 'peasant' in your eyes, but I know the value of work, honesty, and respect. These are values that you, with all your wealth and splendor, will never understand. Maybe it's time you showed your people the true value of leadership, instead of blinding them with hollow words and empty promises." 

"You 'peasant' think I'm going to get carried away with a fight right here and now? What happened here today will be settled in another place." With these words and an angry expression, the emperor turned away from the table and moved toward his box.

Mortis sat back, a wry grin on his lips that could not hide the mockery. But as he mocked the departing emperor, his eyes turned to Calamora with a hint of sadness. "But you would stand by me if it came to the extreme, wouldn't you?"

The goddess, visibly taken by Mortis, nodded immediately, hanging on his words. Mortis' smile softened. He didn't want to play games with her, because that would be unfair to someone who so openly showed his affection. Instead, he directed his attention to the exquisite food in front of him Mortis sank into his thoughts and began to enjoy his meal. Edna, seated next to him, played nervously with her silverware. The tension in the room was palpable, but no one would have expected the sudden appearance of the dwarf.

A loud shout cut through the silence. "Edna! Stay where you are!" A grim-faced dwarf with a wild beard charged toward Mortis' table. In a split second, Edna slid from her chair and tried to hide under the table.

The eyes of everyone present were fixed on the dwarf and Edna, and the room was filled with tense silence.