Battles Beneath the Scarlet Skies. (97)

"Is there something wrong with this beast?" Varga inquired, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of concern.

"Well, it's intriguing." I was contemplating what kind of qualities one would need to survive in those abnormal zones. My thoughts circled around the possible outcomes in the Arena.

Let's assume that the Caretakers devised the ultimate weapon to eliminate the mightiest fighters.

And they summoned everyone to fight for their freedom, united in a single purpose: to annihilate the contemptible insects in one fell swoop.

But what if they didn't? What if...

What if a creature or beast from those zones somehow found its way into the Surya Empire?

Chaos? Bloodshed? War?

The continent might be predominantly inhabited by humans, but various races inhabit different regions of the planet.

Is there some kind of agreement between them? How do they coexist harmoniously with each other?

This world is vast, and I've only experienced the part of it where cruelty and power reign supreme. What lies beyond the Arena?

I rubbed my chin and gazed at the storm raging outside. The clouds flickered with shades of purple, blue, and scarlet.

Greetings to the Leader.

In the flashes of jagged lightning that struck the crowns of ancient withered trees, I glimpsed a dark silhouette in the window.

This time, it was a hybrid creature, part bear and clad in steel armor:

"My name is Geros. I've been fighting for two years now and joined The Infernal Legion a year and a half ago."

Turning toward the speaker, I saw a slightly open mouth with pointed fangs. Standing on two powerful hind legs, he appeared to be around 3 meters tall.

Lowering his head with burning eyes, he spoke solemnly:

"I will follow you through fire and water, Lord."

"And me!"

"And me!"

Two more beasts bowed, baring their furry backs.

"So be it," I nodded, acknowledging their pledge.

The room fell into a reverent silence, their solemn expressions speaking louder than any words.

---

"In a few hours, a demonstration battle will commence, featuring over 8,500 participants," Gena informed me as we walked through the preparations, studying the array of artifacts and talismans.

"Are they already assembled in the square?" I inquired.

"Yes," Gena confirmed.

"What about the rules?" I asked.

"The caretakers have already been briefed."

---

Sitting atop a raised platform overlooking the stone battlefield, I observed as a lively crowd once more filled the entire square. Among them, the prospective fighters of the Infernal Legion Alliance were scattered, and I anticipated a bountiful harvest of recruits today.

- Whites for ordinary Fighters, Rank 1.

- Grays for First Lieutenants, Rank 3.

- Dark gray for Colonels, Rank 5.

- Blacks for generals, Rank 9.

Each section had a limited number of participants: 10 in the white area, with 3 winners; 6 in the gray, with 2 victors; and 3 each in the dark gray and black, with only one emerging triumphant. These battles allowed for the exchange of experience and served as a contest for securing places in the army.

The sections remained isolated from one another, but there were limits on the number of recruits:

- Rank 1: 715.

- Rank 3: 20.

- Rank 5: 10.

- Rank 9: 5.

That's precisely how many fighters I required.

I stroked the spatial ring, observing the hundreds of Guards hovering not far from me. They had their books open, ready to record the upcoming battles.

Gena raised his hand in an inviting gesture, and I stepped to the edge of the floating platform. With the Talisman of Speech in hand, I activated its magic, causing it to transform into a soft cloth that settled within my throat.

"WELCOME TO THE DEMONSTRATION FIGHT," my voice boomed, loud yet clear, reaching the ears of those closest to me and echoing for miles. The crowd fell silent, their attention firmly fixed on my obscured figure behind the shifting clouds.

"THE DAY HAS COME WHEN YOU CAN SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR WANDERINGS IN THE ARENA." 

Fighters began moving toward their respective sections, their anticipation palpable.

"RISE FROM YOUR SCARRED KNEES AND DEMONSTRATE YOUR ABILITIES. TODAY, YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO TRIUMPH AND JOIN THE NEW ALLIANCE. I CANNOT PROMISE YOU UNIMAGINABLE RICHES OR A VIEW OF THE HEAVENS FROM THE OUTSIDE, BUT AS SOMEONE WHO HAS ENDURED COUNTLESS BATTLES, I PLEDGE TO TRANSFORM INTO THE BULWARK OF A FEROCIOUS BEAST. SO, CAST OFF YOUR KNEELING STANCE AND SPREAD YOUR WINGS TO EMBRACE ME! TOGETHER, WE SHALL SOAR ABOVE THE MEMORIES OF OUR FALLEN COMRADES ON THE BATTLEFIELD AND GREET THE RISING SUN OF POWER!"

A ferocious beast roared, and soon other creatures and critters joined in, their ecstatic cries resonating through the air.

"EXERT YOURSELVES TO THE FULLEST AND UNLEASH ALL THE COMBAT EXPERIENCE YOU HAVE GAINED! SHOW EVERYONE WHAT YOU ARE WILLING TO DO FOR THE SAKE OF FREEDOM AND GREATNESS!"

Weapons were raised, their blades slamming into the ground. The roar grew louder, reflecting their eagerness to begin the battle.

The very essence of the Arena, sensing the imminent surge of excitement, was brought to life in a fierce gust of wind, which swept away the hems and hoods of their robes.

"LET THE BATTLE COMMENCE!"

The final sentence served as the signal. Small magic circles materialized in front of the fighters, where they deposited their tokens, indicating the color of the section they intended to enter.

The skyscraper screens blinked, displaying the number 9,840. That was the staggering count of fighters who had gathered to vie for their place in the sun.

Portals spat out bodies onto the designated fields, the resilient stone floor bearing the weight of giants, cyclopes, orcs, and colossal beasts.

I returned to my seat, crossing my legs as I watched the battles unfold before me.

"SO, EVERYONE KNOWS THE RULES. LET'S GO THROUGH THE MAIN ONES. KILLING AN OPPONENT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN. DISQUALIFICATION OCCURS UNDER TWO CONDITIONS. FIRST, IF YOU ARE THROWN OUT OF OR STEP OUT OF BOUNDS OF YOUR SECTION. SECOND, IF YOU CANNOT CONTINUE THE FIGHT DUE TO SEVERE INJURIES OR OTHER REASONS," Uchi spoke, his oval form resembling an immense barrier amidst the chaos.

The sound of clashing metal, cries, and screams blended into a cacophonous wave that reached my ears. The various sections were displayed on screens, showing the audience the future adversaries.

Some fighters overcame others with fervor, while others utilized deft techniques to drive their opponents out of the battlefield. Swearing added a unique flair to the spectacle.

One cyclops raised his axe and struck his chest with the handle, then directed it at a writhing worm coiled around the body of a wounded wolf. With a dozen blows to the black head, he seized the elastic carcass and, spinning on the spot, hurled it out of the section. The cyclops was a mere two steps away from the edge when the creature's hefty rear pushed him squarely into the square.

"SON OF A..." He shouted as he tumbled through the open portal.

"Pf... Ha-ha." Gosha couldn't resist slapping his knee.

The surviving fighters from the battlefield were transported to the neutral zone, where they could recuperate for half an hour before the next round.

Over 19 creatures had already gathered there, all of them from the white section.

Most mages participated in the Gray section. Lacking the physical prowess of other creatures, they relied on their basic skills and endurance.

A fiery tempest swept across the field, ensnaring creatures in an ever-shifting trap that sapped their energy, which the mages harnessed for self-defense.

One figure in white stood out from the rest, plunging his staff into the ground. Lightning bolts encircled him, serving as both protection and offense against oncoming fighters.

Experienced warriors mingled in the Dark Gray section, some exchanging jokes while others dispatched newcomers with swift precision. Then, with a collective roar, they launched into battle, the sound reverberating throughout the entire area.

In one intense skirmish, crocodile clamped its jaws onto a minotaur's thigh, enduring the pain of the sharp horn puncturing its shoulder.

Waving his tail, the colossal reptilian creature moved forward with sheer force, attempting to shove the bull over the line. However, the bull, quick to grasp his adversary's intentions, skillfully pulled out its horns and wrapped its arms around the reptile's thick waist, initiating a battle of scales.

Purple drops of blood flowed like a river; while killing the opponent was forbidden, severe wounds from claws and fangs were commonplace.

In the Black Area, the intensity of combat reached its zenith. Here, bloodthirsty combatants, obsessed with the thrill of battle, clashed in more ferocious duels.

Varga stood before a predatory bird, which had plunged its beak into the flesh of its adversary, ripping out chunks of meat and tossing its head back to swallow fresh morsels. The defeated fighter, though pinned to the ground by the bird's sharp talons, was in no hurry to admit defeat, clutching the bird's claws with his purple hands.

After a few futile attempts to free himself, he winced as the bird's beak struck again and then yelled, "I GIVE UP."

He was promptly whisked away through the portal. Varga, undaunted, summoned a tentacled beast in response. The bird of prey met the challenge with a triumphant war cry. Its talons closed around the tentacles entwined with the summoned creature's wings, and it began to tighten its grip. A deafening roar filled the air, only to be abruptly silenced by a blinding radiance emanating from the bird. In an instant, the fearsome predator transformed into an enchanting maiden. Her lips were stained with the blood of her vanquished foe, forming a sinister, bloodthirsty smile.

The atmosphere grew dense, and Varga, overwhelmed, sank to her knees.

I squinted, watching as the bird-woman advanced toward a seated figure. Her floor-length hair seemed to erase the bloodstains, turning them into winding trails.

The tentacles hung limply, and the swollen veins suggested the creature's struggle to escape the gravitational trap.

Coming to a halt in front of Varga, the woman pulled back her hood.

Dark strands of hair cascaded over her delicate shoulders, and I impulsively rose from my chair, taking a couple of steps forward as sharp claws ripped away the mask, unveiling a disfigured face with emerald eyes.

I gave a wry smile and settled back into my seat.

What had I been thinking?

That Yuna was somehow alive?

Hadn't I witnessed her complete demise?

Yes, in a couple of centuries, this planet would either be annihilated or suffer catastrophic losses in its population at the hands of aliens. I couldn't even guarantee my own survival. So why would I entertain the hope of protecting my vulnerability?

I sighed deeply and gazed at the empty arena.

"Who emerged victorious?" I inquired of Gosha.

"Mm," he mused, sitting on the platform's edge, legs swinging in the chilly breeze, tearing into raw meat. His gaze remained fixed on the screens, tracking the rapidly shifting frames of various battles. "Which one are you interested in?"

"In the black section. The duel between the Bird and Varga," I specified.

"Ah, that one." he hopped off the platform and headed toward the neutral zone.

"Varga emerged victorious," Gosha reported upon his return.

"Excellent," I replied, a faint quirk at the corners of my lips. It was regrettable that I hadn't recorded the battles for video hosting, but perhaps it was for the best.

As I summoned the Spectral Familiars, a palpable sense of foreboding washed over me, and I turned, sensing a looming presence behind me.