Veil of rage and contempt

Early in the morning, before the tournament had even begun, Merlin received a surprise visit from the goddess Amanda. She approached him with a message that would have a decisive influence on his fate in the tournament. Amanda revealed that she and the god from whom Merlin draws his strength had agreed to withdraw him from the competition. The reason was simple: they knew Merlin would win the tournament with ease, but his growing powers and ability to access powerful spells that would be incomprehensible to mortals made further participation inappropriate.

As a token of her appreciation and to ensure his safety, Amanda presented Merlin with a pair of boots imbued with the power of teleportation to enhance his magical abilities. He also received five rings - one for himself and the others for his wives. These rings enabled him to always know where they were and to get to them immediately in an emergency.

Merlin gratefully accepted the gifts. The thought that he had the opportunity to triumph in the tournament was tempting, but the prospect of strengthening his relationships through the rings and ensuring the safety of his loved ones weighed more heavily. Moreover, Merlin realized that fighting for the sake of fighting was not his style - he preferred the power of wisdom and knowledge over the brute force of the arena. "I am not Mortis," he thought to himself. Mortis found joy in challenge and competition, while Merlin preferred the more subtle aspects of life and magic.

With this decision behind him, Merlin left the battle arena and made himself comfortable in the lounge, watching Mortis' performances from afar. At his side was Melissa, whose presence brought him peace and joy. Merlin cherished the opportunity to share his time with her while witnessing Mortis' fighting spirit. In this quiet environment, away from the tumult of the arena, Merlin found a moment of peace and contentment.

Meanwhile, Mortis, unfazed by his friend's decision, was ready to face the challenges of the tournament. He understood Merlin's motives and respected them, for both knew that everyone had to go their own way. So, with the blessing of the gods and confidence in their own strengths, Merlin and Mortis each set out on their own paths - united in friendship, yet different in their approach to life and the challenges it brought.

There was a particularly electric atmosphere in the arena of Twilight Cliff that day. The battles had intensified and it was time to determine the top 16 who would compete in the grand final. The Count of Twilight Cliff, as the organizer of the tournament, could hardly hide his satisfaction. Business was booming and betting on the fights was earning him a small fortune. Both the gods and the mortals eagerly awaited the upcoming battles.

Valric, the observer of the arena, also found some relief in the knowledge that the doppelgangers of Mortis had now been unmasked since the real Mortis had appeared. Nevertheless, he was left with a bitter aftertaste whenever he saw Mortis. Despite his admiration for his talent, he could not escape the question of what made this man so dangerous, even as a hero.

Mortis himself took part in the first fight of the day, against a mage who introduced himself as Baron Kurtal. It was obvious that the nobles were heavily represented in this tournament, which was hardly surprising given the prize - the hand of the earl's daughter. Mortis gave his opponent time to prepare and cast protective spells, a gesture that some might interpret as arrogance. But mages were often at a disadvantage against fast fighters such as assassins or warriors who could break through magical barriers. Mortis, who loved challenges and wanted to develop himself further, therefore let the baron have his way.

The baron, filled with respect for Mortis, finally attacked with a combination of wind and ice magic. Mortis skillfully dodged the icicles and wind blades the mage hurled at him without rushing. Instead, he watched the baron's every move closely to anticipate his next steps.

The baron showed great skill and marksmanship, but Mortis' abilities allowed him to escape the icy traps. Despite the illusions the mage created to disguise his true intentions, he was unable to prevent Mortis from overcoming the distance and breaking through the protective barrier.

When Mortis' scythe finally rested on the baron's shoulder, he acknowledged his defeat. Despite the seemingly effortless victory, Mortis had great respect for the mage who had bravely stood up to him. The fight had not only demonstrated the skill of both opponents, but also the deep respect they had for each other.

Merlin watched the battles with a certain amount of admiration, especially for Baron Kurtal, whom Mortis had just defeated. Despite his values returning to normal, Merlin recognized some tricks and techniques in the Baron's spells that piqued his interest. He decided to approach the Baron later in the lounge, hoping to perhaps arrange a few hours of training with him. The art of magic was deep and varied, and Merlin was always on the lookout for new methods and spells to add to his repertoire.

As Mortis prepared to leave the arena and make way for the next fighters, another fighter approached him. The young man, recognizable by his scythe and blond hair, whispered to Mortis: "King Mortis, that was an impressive fight. But should we meet, it will be the end of your tournament. I look forward to seeing you again soon."

Mortis, recognizing the challenge in the young man's words, merely nodded without turning around. He wondered what this fighter wanted from him, but with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders he left the encounter behind him. What would fights be without setting goals and creating rivalries? Every opponent was an opportunity to grow, learn and prove himself. Mortis was ready for whatever the tournament had in store, and the prospect of fighting the mysterious young man with the scythe filled him with a calm determination.

As the day's fights came to an end and the remaining fighters, including Mortis and the young blond man, made it into the top 16, the tension in the Colosseum rose noticeably. Both had the chance to go head-to-head later in the tournament, a prospect that electrified both the crowd and the fighters themselves.

That evening, as all the fighters entered the arena one last time for the day to thank the audience and express their appreciation for their support, Mortis sensed a strange atmosphere. There was an almost palpable anger and hatred emanating from the young fighter and some of the spectators in the stands that both irritated and challenged Mortis. He wondered what these figures wanted from him and why they could harbor such a strong dislike for him.

To make sure that his family and his kingdom were safe, Mortis used his telepathic abilities to contact his wives. He enquired whether everything was all right at home and whether they had noticed any strange occurrences. At the same time, he instructed Valeria and the others to increase security at the castle and be extra vigilant. He had a feeling that something was wrong and didn't want to take any chances.

The fact that he was surrounded by potential enemies both inside and outside the arena left Mortis no choice but to be on his guard. The upcoming battles promised to be not only a physical challenge, but also a strategic one, where every move had to be carefully considered. Mortis was determined to protect both his family and his reputation as a fighter and was ready to face any challenge the tournament and his unknown opponents might throw at him.