"..."
Silence.
The whole place was full of it. Everyone simply looked down on the youth that returned to the center of the stage. While everyone was gawping in awe, the subject of their shock was poring through their new skills and analyzing their class.
<
Macabre Artist
Skills:
Abstract Abandon:
Allows mana shaping to be casted from various surfaces like blood. The element is randomly decided through the colors of what the mana shape is casted from. As long as the user can imbue an intent and form whilst simultaneously fueling the form it will keep persisting until ordered not to.
Gates Of Exhibition:
Intensifies the user's presence, amplifying their mana and imbuing an aura that allows mana casts to be redirected. Success lessens the further away the magic is from the user.
Painted Expression:
Gives a unique mana, and allows for easier multicasting. Allows unusual or opposing mana to be meshed much easier than it otherwise would be.
Art Gallery:
Consumes 50 to 90 percent of mana, completely random. Produces element types that the user may not have as an attack.
>
As Alban pored over his skills, he felt a bit curious on how classes even worked in the first place. He hasn't painted a day in his life, or at least he was pretty sure he hadn't. There was nothing like that in his memory at all, at least. He scanned over each and every one of them, so there wasn't very many doubts left in his mind.
'Hey system, do you know how this class ended up being my most compatible one?' Alban called out to the system in a bid to figure out if it became a bit more animated. His query invoked nothing but silence, so he was pretty sure that it was the same. He found it a bit weird that it had become so...personable earlier.
'Best not to think about it.' Alban chose to put away the questions that swarmed his brain, simply adding the situation to his much neglected complaint pile. He realized he felt a lot more...alive? The violent tendencies that colored his interactions with others didn't subside at all, but he no longer felt as if his behavior was foreign. Like it had been a part of him all along.
A panel once again filled his vision. While ruminating on what a 'mental fortress' would do for him, he summoned a fireball and felt it's heat nestle against his skin. Looking down on the flame that small flame that peeked above his nose, he felt very connected to it. It wasn't just the flame, he felt connected to the very world itself. Like he was no longer being rejected in any way from Nightmare. It was now just a slight shunning instead.
Alban took in deep breaths of the air that felt much more fresh. The carnage around him smelled a lot like iron, though the scent was no longer struck against his nostrils. It instead wafted pleasantly in his nose, filling his whole entire being. His firm eyes softened considerably as he enjoyed the situation.
All of this transpired in minutes as the monsters just watched Alban's odd behavior. Suddenly, a voice escaped the huge crowd of monsters and made itself known to the rest of the creatures in the upraised seating. It was a reluctant cheer that battled against the bizarre vibe pervading the atmosphere.
Unbeknownst to the monster, it's whooping cries inspired animation in the still audience. Monsters all across the colosseum started to break out of their stupor, soon uttering lively cries. The silence in the arena was gradually broken, the once tranquil air filled with gravitas becoming a den of hurrahs.
The hubbub brought the announcer to their senses, who then looked down at the empty note down in their hands. They received no other messages in the time they had spent gawking, which left the announcer relieved. When it came to Gethu, no news was much preferable to whatever he had to say. The announcer shuddered in revulsion for a good moment before projecting their voice above the din that permeated the area.
"What did I tell you, folks? I told you you'd see a battle that tops whatever you've seen before, and you have! I hope none of you doubted me, otherwise you'll look really stupid right now! Everyone point out the stupid monster by you, let them know you're better than them!"
Laughter peeled amongst the monsters, scornful remarks browbeating the still skeptical people in the audience. All of the words the monsters said rang in Alban's ears, making him frown a bit. He was fine with them doing whatever they wanted while he couldn't think, but right now he didn't enjoy being looked at as a spectacle. Before he could consider the best way to go about shutting the loud crowd up, the announcer spoke up once again.
"Haha, alright! Now that we've gotten that out of the way, give a round of applause for the monster that satisfied your every wish for entertainment, Alban! Know that you can only see him in the Blood Band Arena, the place where you can experience the best fights in all of Mrathos! Our champion here will soon be returned to their cell shortly, I hope you've enjoyed your stay! Come back two days from now, we're closing for the weekend."
A smattering of sounds rang out for the final time in the arena, all finding their ways into Alban's ears. He looked for the announcer that brought on all this racket in vain, swearing to one day kill them for their pompous behavior. What kind of jerk makes the already blaring noises even louder, anyways?
Before he could continue his agitated search, an orange glow suffused itself over his vision. As it was the first time he had experienced such a thing, he was confused for a second. His puzzlement couldn't last for long though, as he suddenly felt himself teleported back into the room he shared with Teta and Lat. His shackles unwound themselves from his hands and one of them cuffed one of his feet instead.
—-
"Why'd you ssssend him awaysss! I wasss looking at that!"
"Ho, it was a good time to do it, methinks. The less you see something the more you want it, no? More money means more pay, ho!"
"Who even CARESSS about the moniesss. I was enjoying eye candiesss! Don't you think he's beautiful too?"
"Ho, perhaps I do, but my job comes first. I need the money, you know?"
The two didn't stop bickering at all as the arena slowly leaked all the creatures in the seating. They all left their seats in various ways, some flying, gliding through the air, and some actually using the stairs that were supposed to be exits. As Gethu viewed all of this through a screen, he cackled with pleasure.
"Ladies, we pulled in ten times more than usual today! I'm going to be sad when our money makers leave the arena, won't you?" Gethu didn't plan to break his promise of freedom, to tell the truth. He was obligated to abide by anything he said, as the arena was actually controlled by Camra. Although he was the proprietor, he had no say in the main rules that the arena ran by. It left him with a bitter taste in his beak as he sighed out all of the air in his lungs.