POV of Dark Brethren Leader:
Looking down from the kingdom walls, I could see the mass destruction unfolding. Flames casually spread across the towns of the kingdom, magic erupted and clashed in various areas, and many buildings came crashing down into rubble and debris.
A battle raged in the center of the town where the recent matches of the tournament were being held. I pleasantly smiled at the chaos before me. The two golems, Gol and Geo, had left a trail of destruction in their wakes. Geo had taken out the majority of the northeastern region of the kingdom and he was now standing in the middle of the arena.
***
Pov of Laquinn Evergreen:
Woah, I thought.
The golem was now standing in front of us. Its massive rock body stood erect from the ground, and its face cast down a stare that screamed death over the arena. An intimidating presence overcame me. I could feel a nervous smile creeping up on me. My lips quivered.
"We have to do something!" I heard among the screams of the thousands of people. The voice had come from nearby on the arena stage. It belonged to a lanky man with a clean-shaven face, round-glasses, and blond hair with the tips colored green. He was talking to a group of mages in his area. "If we don't come together, that thing is going to crush us!" he insisted.
"And why would we listen to you?" another man asked; his voice was clear and powerful. His clothes were tattered and ripped leaving his burly upper body exposed. A shiny bald head rested on top of his broad shoulders. His face lacked emotion. It was deprived of the fear and worry that everybody else was experiencing.
The blond had frozen up for a moment. He was nearly stuttering. "B-b-because..." he looked down. He took a deep breath and approached the other man. His hands balled into fists as he mustered his courage. With clenched teeth and an intense gaze, he placed his hand on the man's shoulder, and spoke. "If we don't... then everybody else will die." His words felt cold. The realization of the situation had frozen a couple of the other mages' faces with fear. More mages behind them had similar expressions. Some of them looked as if they were about to cry, and others shed a few tears.
"I don't want to die," one of them whimpered.
"Me too," a guy said beside her.
"Not here, not now," another guy said. His legs were shaking as he slowly backed away from the golem.
A couple of the other mages stood there silently accepting the reality. Lumps formed in their throats as they swallowed whatever courage was within them. One of their eyes beamed a serious and determined expression. Some of them tightened their jaws and readjusted their eyes from the ground to the threat ahead.
"Well, that doesn't sound like our problem," the burly man said. He hadn't flinched or moved at all. He looked down on the blond mage. His eyes did not shake or waver. They had remained the same as before: cold and uninterested.
Thump!
More screams erupted from the arena. Some of the seats had begun to empty as their occupants pushed through the sluggish crowds, but for others... it was too late. The golem had broken through one of the walls of the arena. Around its feet laid the bodies of innocent masses crammed with the debris of the fallen wall. Dust swept up from the bottom of the ground and surrounded the Golem's legs.
It looked like a towering mountain—a killing machine with no other purpose.
"Besides," the burly man said, "that's a job for the pathetic men that serve the king." He nodded his head to the side.
A group of twelve men and women were running from the far end of the arena to the golem. Their torso was covered by a light, gray armor over navy undergarments. Over the armor, they wore a short, gold cloak with a white shooting star in its upper right corner.
"It's the Kingsmen of the Star!" a mage rejoiced. He pointed at the moving group and gathered the attention of everybody else in the arena. The uneasiness of everybody in the arena began to drop. Everybody seemed to have sighed a bit or relax whatever tensions built up.
A woman beside me dropped to her knees. Tears crowded her eyes as she cuffed her hands over her mouth. Another man was clutching his heart. He looked as if he was startled out of his body and had just now recovered.
I took a deep breath.
"That doesn't mean anything," I heard from behind me. The white-haired, ice mage that I was just fighting emerged from behind a small group. He gently nudged them out of his way and pushed past them as he advanced to the center of the arena.
A few people had gasped. I heard one of them mutter, "That's Izain Nocht." His voice spiked, "The Demon of the Frost!"
I raised my eyebrow in curiosity. The Demon of the Frost? I thought.
"He's right," Izain told the burly man. His gaze was set on both of the mages. "If we don't help, everybody else here may die." His eyes radiated a serious stare that sent chills down my spine. "Are you fine with that?" he asked calmly.
"So, what if they die?" the man responded unfazed. "Last I checked, I'm an adventurer, not a hero. I don't owe them shit."
"I see," Izain answered.
An unsettling nervousness grasped me. My eyes widened. I had seen it happen in real time, but Izan had moved quickly. He released a fear-inducing and nerve-wracking aura that swept through the arena. It felt as if something was pushing me down.
The man had fallen to one of his knees. Izain hovered above him with a hand to his neck. A sharp blade of ice rested in his hands. He looked at the man with no remorse and a face full of scorn. "Pitiful," he said.
The burly man's eyes wavered a bit. His body tensed up, and he had nearly frozen in place with his hands up. Yet, it wasn't fear that had overcame him. He wasn't afraid. The look in his eyes was too familiar; he was upset.
"How dare you?" He asked Izain between his clenched teeth. His eyes were bulging from his head, and his hands had tightened into rageful fists. "You dare threaten me?" he yelled out. "I'll kill you!"
"Now, now boys," Aaref Fayworth said. Walking toward the middle of them, he gave a courteous smile before pressing his lips together and addressing the graveness of the situation. "If you want to leave, you can leave," he announced to all of the mages, "but if you want to stay and fight, you may also do that. There's no need to go at each other's necks. There is a bigger issue to be handled."
I stood still while multitudes of mages left. Only a few of us remained now. All fear within me screamed out as I tried to swallow and drown it under a new wave of courage and bravery.
The blade in Izain's hand shattered. The ends dropped from out of his death-tightened grip, and he walked away. The burly man shot a look of resentment toward him. Swallowing his pride, he gathered himself up from the ground and walked away with the rest of the mages who had left.