The provocative smile

In the box it was silent at first, before the tension between Shiva and Mortis literally began to crackle. She couldn't forgive him for his reckless action and wanted to tell him just that. "Mortis!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration and concern. "You could have put us all in danger!"

But Mortis's mind was elsewhere. He was more concerned with calming himself down and making sure Kathrin and Jasmine weren't hurt than paying attention to Shiva's words. He was so worried about them that he didn't even hear Shiva's rebuke.

This, in turn, only made Shiva's anger swell further. "Are you even listening to me?" she shouted as she stomped her foot. "What if a war breaks out now? You're usually so concerned about our welfare and political relations."

Mortis turned to her abruptly, eyes dark with anger and determination. "I will not apologize, nor would I change anything. It is my duty as a man to look out for you and keep you safe. And that is not a burdensome burden, it is my duty."

Shiva wanted to retort something, but Mortis was already with Kathrin and Jasmin and bent down to them. When he was sure that nothing serious had happened to them, he pressed a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads, followed by an affectionate caress.

The atmosphere in the lodge was charged. It was obvious that the relationship between Shiva and Mortis was complicated, marked by deep love but also by differing views on how to deal with conflict and danger.

After Mortis made his statement clear, he turned to Zara and the two boys. "Be alert and show what you can do," he said as he looked them firmly in the eye. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders, squeezed lightly and smiled. Together with the children, he made his way to the arena. They walked side by side, and you could see how proud Mortis was of the young fighters.

Back in the box, there was a tense silence. The looks given to Shiva were cold and dismissive. None of those present seemed to have any understanding for her behavior. Shiva tried to ignore the stares and concentrate on the upcoming tournament, but the whispering and whispering made it difficult for her.

Helga, the first woman in the group, stepped up to Shiva's side. "You have confronted Mortis on a matter close to his heart," she remarked, "I wonder how you will resolve this misunderstanding."

Shiva sighed. "I only had our safety in mind," she defended herself quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt or question anyone, especially Mortis."

Helga nodded thoughtfully. "Mortis often acts out of a strong protective instinct, especially when it comes to you. Sometimes we just have to rely on his intuition."

Before Shiva could retort, a loud trumpet call drew everyone's attention to the arena. The gods, in all their majestic glory, were preparing a spectacular show and announcing the rules of the tournament. The tension in the air was palpable, and for a moment everyone present forgot about the previous clash. It was time for the great spectacle.

The decision of the gods to use the values of the middle races as the standard for this tournament was met with mixed feelings. Some welcomed the decision, as it made the tournament more balanced and unpredictable. Others were more skeptical, wondering how it would affect the competition.

However, these bracelets would not change their individual abilities or talents. Instead, they would increase their physical and magical stats to bring them on par with the higher races. A human who previously had average strength could suddenly feel as strong as an elf or other member of a higher race. This was also true for other attributes such as speed, stamina, and magical power.

The higher races, though their abilities were lowered, still did not feel too much of a limitation. They were still powerful, but on a level more equal to the human participants.

Since the magical tournament took place earlier than expected, the participants had limited time to get used to their new stats. This added tension as they had to learn and adapt quickly.

The arenas were a place of intense training, as everyone tried to make the most of their new stats and best prepare for the upcoming tournament.

Amanda's appearance was an imposing sight. She, as the goddess of magic, was dressed in a shimmering robe that shimmered in the colors of the sky at sunset. Her every movement had a gentle grace that was unique to a goddess. Her long hair, as black as the deepest night, fell in gentle waves over her shoulders, forming a striking contrast to her fair skin.

When she reached the center of the arena, conversation fell silent and all eyes turned to her. She smiled kindly, and when she began to speak, her voice was so clear and melodic that even those far away could understand every word.

"Welcome, noble beings of all races and peoples, to this magical tournament! I am pleased and honored to see so many of you here, come to witness this extraordinary spectacle."

With an elegant wave of her hand, Amanda caused a glowing tournament map to appear, suspended above the arena. The glowing lights on the plan drew everyone's attention, and when the contestants' names appeared, a murmur went through the crowd.

"The fates have decided," Amanda continued. "Our brave contestants have been determined. Now that everything is set, the magical duels can begin!"

She paused briefly, looked over the crowd, and added with a bright smile, "May the best of what's inside each of you come to light. Good luck to all the fighters and may you give us an unforgettable show!"

With these words she concluded her speech and with another elegant wave the tournament schedule disappeared and the arena began to fill with anticipation and excitement. It was clear that this tournament would be an event that would remain recorded in the annals of history.

All participants took the stage together with their parents or teachers. After a short while, the adults withdrew and the children waited anxiously on the sidelines until their names were called. Amidst the tense atmosphere, the Emperor of the Sands fixed his eyes firmly on the arena. When they fell on Mortis, his gaze darkened. Anger seemed to cover every inch of his face. But Mortis, after bidding an affectionate farewell to Zara, looked directly at the Emperor and gave him a provocative smile. Without a word, he raised his hand and unmistakably showed the Emperor the middle finger.

The bystanders held their breath, sensing the tension between the two men. But Mortis turned away, his attention now turned back to the children, and went with great joy to his box to watch the tournament and see how it would end.