Chapter 39: Drahyr

Only three days passed, with them riding at full speed nonstop all day and all night to finally reach the capital of the Demon Kingdom: Drahyr, the city built around a gigantic oasis in the desert.

From a distance, everyone could see the architecture quite different from that of the Human Empire. The roofless white stone square houses filled the landscape as if they were a mirage, and in the middle of the city in the distance one could faintly make out a large white palace strangely shrouded in greenery, with towers that looked like shimmering golden minarets to the Traveler who commented:

"It looks like a Middle Eastern city with an Arabian architecture building..."

"What?" Kimora asked confused.

"Don't mind it. Let's go!" Jorael said as they were riding towards the city.

Approaching the city, they could also admire the colosseum built directly on the water of the oasis. It almost seemed to float on the surface of the oasis, which was so large that it was actually a lake.

"Gorgeous!" Cyn'Thia exclaimed.

"Tché... Our pride that unites all the Demons: The Arena." Sulth'krag said proudly.

"Ah! I hope I can finally eat something good at some inn..." Bromur shouted from behind.

"We have to stay focused and disguise ourselves... you three remain covered in hoods and cloaks." Jorael explained.

"Tché... there will be all kinds of Demons in town, so it will be easy to go unnoticed." the chief pointed out.

"Good. Where should we go?" Jorael asked.

"Tché... I told my daughter to go to the Drunk Cyclops Inn, we should meet her there." Sulth'krag explained.

"Drunk... Cyclops?!" Kimora asked.

"Tché... he moved from the Nefarious Hills to Drahyr some years ago to run an inn, and if you can't tell, he's drunk most of the time. But he's a good Demon. Tchah ha ha ha!" the chief replied as they had almost reached the city.

Drahyr was not a fortified city with defensive walls, because the desert surrounding it served as protection against possible assailants, so the five travelers entered comfortably astride the three Raptors on the huge main road.

Unlike Osbillach, where the only vegetation was present at the edges of the river, here despite being in the center of the desert, vigorous green bushes and palm trees were born everywhere, and decorated the main street that ended at the royal palace.

"There are so many people!" Cyn'Thia exclaimed looking at the street filled with a wide variety of Demons of all kinds.

"Tché... Normally there are fewer people around, but every 7 years the tournament calls Demons from every corner of the Kingdom." Sulth'krag explained.

"There are so many different types of Demons... I have never seen such diversity!" whispered Kimora as she rolled her eyes, noticing that the sky was also full of flying Demons.

Everyone looked around in awe as Sulth'krag led the way to the inn. Eventually, they reached their destination, finding themselves in front of a huge building with an entrance at least five mels high.

"What?! This is obviously a place for bigger Demons like Giants or Cyclopes... why do you want to stay here?!" Jorael asked surprised.

"Tché... because it costs us little.

Normally we only use one room because the bed is so big that we are all in it…" Sulth'krag replied as everyone shook their heads disappointingly.

"Ah! I hope the innkeeper has some decent alcohol ..." Bromur whispered.

"So ... if he hadn't drunk it all ..." the Goblin warned.

After tying the Raptors to the fence outside the inn, they entered through the huge entrance.

"Tché ... Phil, I'm back in a long time!

Where is my daughter?" Sulth'krag exclaimed as he entered the inn.

The others followed the Goblin, finding a huge space inside with some Cyclopes customers drinking at a giant table, while no one seemed to be present at the counter.

"Phil is drunk..." a Cyclops whispered as the four companions stared at the group at his table.

"What the fuck are you looking at?!

Have you ever seen a Cyclops!?" suddenly yelled a Demon as he rose menacingly.

He was at least three mels tall and looked stocky and strong. On his face lay a single large eye above his nose, and on the top of his head was sparse brown hair where a large conical horn protruded at the top of him.

"S-sorry..." Cyn'Thia whispered in intimidation as the Goblin climbed onto the counter to check where Phil was.

"Tché... there you are!

Drunk as usual..." Sulth'krag exclaimed without surprise.

The innkeeper lay on the floor behind the counter half asleep on his stomach. He murmured something:

"Sulth'krag... well... come... BURP!"

A loud burp nearly shook the floor, and everyone was speechless, only for Cyn'Thia who later commented:

"You have found a rival Bromur..."

"Tché... Where is my daughter?" the chief asked.

"Room... 7..." murmured the innkeeper still with his face planted on the ground.

"Tché... 7?...

You never gave us that huge room…" Sulth'krag exclaimed in surprise.

"The other rooms ... had already been taken..." Phil finally muttered before the group led by the Goblin went in search of the indicated room.

"Tché... here it is." Sulth'krag said when he found the right room. He knocked on the big door, then spoke again:

"Father is here!"

When the Goblin opened the room, he found an unexpected scenario before him: some unconscious Goblins lying on the floor.

"Tché... what happened?!" he exclaimed in shock.

"Tchà... they are drunk.

I told them not to drink Phil's alcohol, I warned them it's different from our grog... they didn't listen.

Hello Father." a female Goblin voice said from the huge bed at the far end of the room.

"Tché... hello Warg's Bite.

let me introduce you to some new friends of mine..." Sulth'krag said, gesturing for the others to enter the room with him.

Once the four entered the room and closed the door, the village chief's daughter was a little intimidated by the size of her father's new friends, and she wondered to herself who they were, but the answer was not long in coming.

"Tché... He is Bromur, a friendly Dwarf.

She is Cyn'Thia, a caring Elf.

She is Kimora, a noisy Human.

And in the end, he is Jorael, a..." the leader of the Goblins was saying before being interrupted by his daughter screaming:

"Tchà... why is he wearing the champion armor?!

Is he a Human?! Father are you okay!?

Are they holding you hostage?!"

"Tché... I'm fine because these four arrived a few days ago in our village, and they saved us all!" Sulth'krag explained with a smile, but his daughter did not understand what had happened in the days following her departure from Osbillach.

Her father explained to her what had happened in the village, starting with disease and the mass healing, the contamination of the river waters, the Krypsters in the cave, and the Demons who were responsible for it.

"Tchà... It wouldn't make any sense if my group hadn't had stomach aches including me for days after leaving Osbillach.

After we got here, we started to feel better..." explained the daughter.

"Tché... now that we've cleared things up, let me introduce my daughter:

She is Salgh'krag, the Warg's Bite, Osbillach's strongest Goblin... Until the four of you arrived."

"Tchà... Other Demons will not understand that they are like our blood brothers and sisters.

Are you sure father to take this responsibility?"

"Tché ... Now he's our brother.

...and he needs our help to talk to the Queen. "

"Tchà... the Queen...

I'll pray Atremis that you win then..."

"Thank you, aren't you angry because I took your place?" Jorael asked.

"Tchà... in the beginning, I was when I saw you enter with the armor.

Then I heard how you saved Dad and the village...

I couldn't be prouder that you took my place." Salgh'krag responded while with her adorable shimmering yellowish eyes looked at Jorael with respect.

"Tché... If you two get along so well, you could get married together!

I'll approve! Tcha ha ha ha!" Sulth'krag exclaimed embarrassing his daughter.

"N-no, thanks...

I think there will be problems biologically." Jorael tried to decline while Salgh'krag blushed.

"Tché... you are the first half Demon I have ever heard of...

If your parents were able to do it, maybe you can too…" Sulth'krag suggested.

"I dun wanna hear dis weird shit..." Kimora whispered while Cyn'Thia's face showed some concern.

"Ah! Can't demons have children with other races?" Bromur asked.

"Tché... not only that but also between different clans." Sulth'krag replied.

"Uhm... can we change the subject?!" Jorael asked.

"Yes please, what is there to do now?" Cyn'Thia asked.

"Tché... let's go and register our champion!" Sulth'krag responded fervently.

...

After some rest from the trip, Jorael and Sulth'krag decided that only the two of them would go to the coliseum to register the champion of the Goblin clan, to avoid further fuss if Cyn'Thia, Kimora, and Bromur were also present.

"Sigh... the disguise won't work.

It's all too obvious that I'm not a Goblin…" Jorael whispered as they walked towards the coliseum.

"Tché... don't worry.

They'll take my word for it…" reassured Sulth'krag.

"I don't know how they can believe it..." Jorael whispered to himself.

They continued walking, arriving on a long stone bridge that connected the road to the coliseum which had its foundations on the lake in the center of the city. After crossing the bridge, they arrived at the reception where the registration took place. A Beastman sitting behind the counter saluted and asked:

"Atremis blessed us with a beautiful day.

Are you here to register?"

"Tché ... I am Sulth'krag, village chief of the Osbillach Goblins.

I'm here to register our Champion ... "the Goblin said pointing to the Traveler.

"He is not a Goblin.

You should know that mercenaries are forbidden…" the Demon said looking at Jorael.

"Tché... If I said he's a Goblin, he's one ..." Sulth'krag insisted.

"Will you take responsibility?" asked the Demon.

"Tché... sure.

I guarantee it." Sulth'krag replied.

"If you say so...

Please sign here to make sure it is your conscious choice." said the Demon, making the chief sign a document.

"T-tché... w-what's that?! …tché." Jorael asked, badly imitating the speech of the Goblins.

"Disclaimer from the tournament staff.

If it turns out to be a farce, the petitioner will have to pay.

Name and epithet please." the Demon asked ready to write on the register.

"Tché... Jorael... the Krypster-slayer." he replied by pretending the Goblin speech again.

"Please take a leftover number from the basket." the Demon asked, placing a basket with crumpled paper balls in front of Jorael.

"Tché... this one." Jorael said pulling out a ball of paper.

The reception Demon took the ball and opened it, then showed the number on it and said:

"Number 7."

As soon as the man showed the number, a voice was heard coming from behind Jorael and the Goblin:

"Grunt... I knew I saw the Goblin leader.

Sulth'krag!

Are you here again after all after seven years?"

Sulth'krag and Jorael turned and found an old orc staring at them and smiling. He had brown skin, and a cane helped him walk because his left leg was missing.

"Tché... Chief of the Orcs, Borkan.

It's been a while..." the Goblin commented after looking at the Orc.

"Grunt... The last time we left bitterly...

Don't tell me he's your Champion?!" Borkan exclaimed surprised looking at Jorael.

"Tché... he is." Sulth'krag replied proudly.

"Grunt ... he's not a Goblin!

What dirty game are you playing?!" said the leader of the Orcs.

"Tché... if I say that he is, he is.

I have already signed..." replied the leader of the Goblins.

"Grunt... oh, that's so interesting...

Who knows what the Queen will do when she finds out..." Borkan said.

"Tchè... Me... Goblin." Jorael said, imitating the Goblins' speech poorly again.

"Grunt... you "Goblin" Champion will see my son's terror.

What number do you have?" Borkan asked.

"Tchè... Seven." Jorael replied.

"Grunt... never tell me the odds! Gruntah ah ah ah!" exclaimed the Orc at the confusion of the others.

"Uh-um ... I have to finish my work." the Beastman on reception said as he climbed a ladder to reach a huge billboard above the reception.

It was the match billboard, where all the names of the registered tournament participants were written, and the matches were assigned based on the number drawn. The seventh place was empty, but it was about to be filled.

"... number 7: Goblin Jorael, the Krypster-slayer." the Demon noted, thus establishing the first match for the Goblin Champion.

Both Jorael and Sulth'krag read aloud the name of the first rival:

"Tché... number 8: Orc Volkran the Terror."

"Gruntah ah ah ah!

My son will be more than happy to fight the Goblin in his first game!

See you tomorrow..." Borkan said, leaving the scene laughing.

"So, we're done.

May Atremis give you the strength to prevail. Farewell." The Beastman said as he descended the ladder.

The two greeted the tournament attendant and headed back to the inn. As they were walking after crossing the bridge, Jorael asked:

"You seemed to be troubled with the Orc chief... what happened?"

"Tché... as you already know Orcs and Goblins can't stand each other, but his son is the same one who won the match against us in the last tournament." Sulth'krag explained.

"Oh, now I understand..." Jorael said.

"Tché... but the story goes deeper than this..." the Goblin was saying before abruptly bumping into a Beastwoman and falling to the ground.

"OUCH!

Watch where you go, Goblin!" cried the enraged Demon.

Jorael took a good look at the cat-like blue-haired Beastwoman before realizing that she was an old acquaintance of him, and he said:

"Kir... S-sorry!"

She also stared at Jorael suspiciously and said:

"Have we met before?!"

"Tché... no, you mistake." Jorael said in the Goblin speech as he helped Sulth'krag get up.

"Er... strange.

Anyway, be careful and tell the short one to watch his step." she said before leaving.

"Tché... thanks.

You seemed to know that Demon." Sulth'krag said.

"Yeah... it's an acquaintance of mine from the Human Empire.

I'm glad she got home safe and sound." said Jorael.

"Tché... was she a slave?" asked the Goblin.

"No, but her sister was.

She's dead. "Jorael explained.

"Tché... slavers... sometimes we push them back, sometimes they succeed." whispered Sulth'krag.

"I'm going to stop this shit." Jorael said.

"Tché ... if it's you, I can see success." whispered the chief as they both headed for the inn.

...

The next day, everyone got ready for the first day of the tournament: the elimination rounds.

The large group of Goblins and the four companions left the Drunk Cyclops Inn and headed for the main street, where large numbers of people were celebrating the start of the tournament.

All the Demons were making their way to the coliseum, and the group of Goblins trudged to the bridge, passing through a large number of Demons.

Once found in front of the coliseum, an attendant Demon yelled out loud giving instructions:

"Fighters turn left, audience turns right!"

"Tché... I'll take my seat.

Jorael, do your best!" Sulth'krag said as he turned right with his companions.

"No! Don't do your best!

Don't attract unnecessary attention…" Cyn'Thia whispered worriedly.

"I'll try... go with Sulth'krag and stay with them!" Jorael said.

"See ya..." Kimora whispered.

"Break some heads for me Brother!" Bromur said as they left.

Jorael went left, going down a staircase and going underground where there was a vast open space with changing rooms, an infirmary and even a gym to train where other contenders were warming up. As Jorael walked, other Demons at the sight of him commented:

"Should he be a Goblin? I call it bullshit..."

"He doesn't smell like a Goblin..."

"Goblin or not, he will be crushed!"

Meanwhile, the others climbed the stairs to access the stands. Tournament attendants were waiting for the clan leaders to arrive at the reserved stands in the front row, along with their guards.

With the instructions of the attendants they entered the stands reserved for the Goblin clan, where there was a worthy front row position for the clan leader, and behind him other seats for his clans.

Above the reserved stands were the bleachers, where most of the common audience could enter to enjoy the show.

"There are 71 reserved seats around the arena." Cyn'Thia said as she finished counting.

"Tché... plus one for the King up there, or should I say Queen..." Sulth'krag said as he took his seat.

"Tchà... not all the 71 stands will be filled." Salgh'krag commented as she sat down behind her father.

"Succubus clan, right?" Kimora asked looking around in amazement.

"Tché... yes." whispered the leader.

"Ah! The stands and bleachers are filling up fast!" Bromur shouted.

"Tchà... it should start soon." Salgh'krag said.

"May I smoke?" Bromur asked.

"No, ya idiot.

Keep a low profile…" Kimora replied.

"So, where is the Queen?!" the Dwarf asked anxiously.

"Tché... she should arrive with her daughter." Sulth'krag replied.

As the stands of the clan leaders filled the seats, the Queen was finally about to enter, announced by an attendant on her central balcony:

"Demons of every clan, on this day blessed by Atremis, the Queen and her daughter honor us with their presence!"

The audience was excited and cheered at the entrance of the sovereign, showing all respect for her and her daughter, and finally, on the central balcony that overlooked all the stands, the Queen entered.

"Is that the Queen?!" Cyn'Thia exclaimed.

"I can die now..." Bromur commented falling to the ground.

"Idiot. What about your father?!" Kimora exclaimed.

"Ah ... you're right.

But for now, let me see the Queen again." Bromur said as he stood up and stared at her again.

The Queen was walking towards her seat, in all her splendor and charm. She was an attractive Beastwoman but, as Sulth'krag previously stated, she was special. She was neither a cat, nor a rabbit, nor a dog. Instead, she was a fox.

"She has pure white hair and fur, blue eyes, fox ears, and... nine fluffy tails?!" Cyn'Thia whispered in surprise.

"Tché... she is a nine-tailed fox.

That's why she is special.

They are rare. It is said that once every Era a nine-tailed fox is born and that they live for quite a long time..." Sulth'krag was explaining before being interrupted by Bromur screaming:

"Sister, where are you looking...

Her huge breasts! I'm here for this!

If Tor'Elkast was here to witness such a wonder of nature..."

"Idiot." Kimora cried in disappointment.

"Ah! That's how we Dwarves like females... busty! Ah ah ah!" Bromur exclaimed as all the girls shook their heads.

"Tché... but what is even rarer than the Queen is her daughter..." whispered Sulth'krag.

"What?!" shouted the three.

The Queen's daughter also entered, with the wonder of the Elf, the Human, and the Dwarf who stood there admiring her with surprise.

"Is she a nine-tailed fox too?!" Cyn'Thia exclaimed in confusion.

"But... with black hair and fur and green eyes!?" Kimora commented.

"Ah! She's not as prosperous as her mother..." Bromur pointed out.

"Tché... two nine-tailed foxes, mother and daughter.

This has been unheard of in all ages." Sulth'krag explained.

"Tchà... her black hair and fur came from his father..." added Salgh'krag.

The Queen's daughter did not sit on her seat, but instead, she approached the announcer in front of her mother.

"Tché... here she goes again." Sulth'krag whispered to the confusion of the other three.

After dismissing the announcer, the Demon princess began to scream tenaciously:

"Good day Demon Kingdom!

I am Drahnemys, your lovely princess!"

When she started speaking, she put herself in a cute pose, sparking the audience who screamed for joy to see her. The Demon Princess spoke again:

"...I thought that as per tradition we will not need a presenter, because I will be the one to do it!"

The crowd laughed as Cyn'Thia, Kimora and Bromur were confused.

"Tché... she does it every time.

As for the last 200 years…" explained Sulth'krag.

"W-wait how old is she?!

She looks younger than me…" Cyn'Thia commented worried, but no answer was given to her because Princess Drahnemys resumed her speech:

"May the 30th Demon Kingdom tournament begins!

May Atremis lead the strong to prevail and may a Demon as strong as my father Drahyr arise.

Now for the first match..."

"When will our match be?!" Cyn'Thia anxiously asked as the Princess had not finished her speech yet.

"Tché... it should be the fourth game.

Jorael vs Volkran..." Sulth'krag replied.

"Tchà... Father!

Why didn't you tell me the first match was against the Orcs?!" Salgh'krag exclaimed worriedly.

"Tché... I thought you read the match billboard at the entrance..." the Goblin leader explained.

"Tchà... father..." Salgh'krag whispered as she began to shed tears.

"What's wrong?!" Cyn'Thia asked.

The Goblin wiped away her tears, but she remained silent. Her father sighed and then explained:

"Tché... the last time we were here, my son fought in the tournament for the pride of the Goblins.

He won for the first time in history a match for the Goblins in the preliminaries because in 29 tournaments it had never happened and he brought much joy to our clan.

But in the next match, he met the Orc champion, Volkran the Terror.

...and my son never returned alive to Osbillach."