So it shall end. The anchorman I'd hated with a vengeance was nowhere to be found. Instead, in his place roared a busty female some words I'd rather not hear now.
"...therefore, given the most recent spike in interest from our dear audience, the organisers have voiced their undivided cooperation."
Until here, there was surely nothing I could hold against her, right? But the problem came after that. She had yet to tell the change in rules the Great Consciousness kept warning me about.
But not for long. "Let the finals start!" Here it was. The finals. 8 participants left, me included. 3 fights packed into one...
There was only one answer. "You heard right, the first and greatest battle royale where even Her Highness Princess Dorothea assists!!"
At this point, I had to remind myself why I was even participating. For the money, my memory answered.
Not for whatever demographic problem this kingdom was suffering from. Plus as of late... to wring Spice's head counterclockwise.
"Curious about her subject's great interest in this monthly exhibition of glorious gladiators, let us show our best side!"
The audience bowed to the most frivolously decorated stall there was. Some were rather more hesitant than others, but nobody really stood out.
Probably because of the consequences. The Great Consciousness told of royal soldiers infiltrating the audience and some such.
Not that I could tell, here behind bars. "In response to this glorious occasion, I believe you've all noticed the phenomenal opportunity provided by the Amethyst Consortium.
7 out of 8 is the glorious chance to increase your bets by twenty per cent. You heard that right, good gents. It is a heavenly pie!"
For some reason, they saw it necessary to have the portcullis repaired, reinforced even! This time, an alchemist must've chipped in with his expertise, for the piece of junk was enchanted to such degree I'd need to expose my ace in the hole just to destroy it.
Which, of course, wasn't exactly the brightest idea. I was more troubled with this... uhh... 1 out of 8 that so sorely stood out. I believed I knew who that was, sadly.
"From the north, brawler by profession, here comes Raul the Deathsleeper!" Though the audience cheered, the man wasn't a fan favourite it seemed.
"From the opposing end, we welcome the famous mage Heather the Flame. May she burn her way to the podium!"
More cheers resounded, mostly male this time. The female sure enjoyed greater popularity than Raul. "Next are the most famous triplets, the Offenders of the East.
Here come Binky, Banky, Bunky!" The audience shrieked. Without exception, there were only females tearing their throats asunder.
"This appearance... hmmm! I think I've fallen too, just like many noblewomen!" The cheers turned into swears and threats immediately.
Some sweet time passed before the anchorwoman overcame the verbal onslaught and introduced the next participant, the bitterness in her voice unmistakable.
"Next comes another mage. Known as the Poison Mercenary, Lorr of the Endless Wastelands. He too has proven his mettle!"
The audience's reaction told me he wasn't a fan favourite either. Quite the contrary, I heard many voices claiming for his slaughter.
"Last but not least...," "What...?" I muttered, "I'm also there, am I not? Plus, she's introduced six, not seven guys."
The youth in my arms copied my expression full of awkward awfulness. That silly face made me chuckle, the implications forgotten for a moment.
If I'd learned anything, it was that she had a clown's talents. Let's just say her silly facial expressions were likely to be remembered.
Yet it didn't change the fact that she was slowly dying, dragging me along. Having gone through some situations together, I no longer absolutely abhor the youth.
But at the same time she hadn't yet wormed her way into my good graces for very obvious reasons. I mean, nobody sane would befriend their killer, no?
While I was struggling with my confusion about in which light to see this little menace and threat it thereafter, time didn't stop.
"...spectacular mastery over the school of water, Miranda the Mirror." I might know that one. That was fine too as it gave me a chance to address her wrongdoing back from the preliminaries in person.
Provided it really was that arrogant female. Once the audience got tired of cheering, the anchorwoman must've finally counted all participants and found out that one was missing.
"For completeness's sake, dear audience, there is one last member...," She was talking about me, I presumed. So I had to present myself favourably, no?
I had an idea. "...a menace of the swamp whose face we never saw. Here comes the Ignorable Yanker." "The what...?"
While I was still struggling with my title, the portcullis retracted and my way to the arena was free. I confidently waltzed right in there as seven pairs of menacing eyes in my immediate vicinity tried to pierce my coat.
Many others came from the audience too, I felt them prickling my sensible scales. I ignored them all and showed the world the most gallant bow they'd ever see.
Scattered cheers that lasted shorter than one breath were the answer. "Let's unsee this lowly display of lacking manners and declare the start of the finals."
Needless to mention, this wasn't how I expected things to turn out. "Get ready to see an exciting performance in three. Two. One."
There was also a problem with how little time I was given to find a safe spot for the youth. "Go!" But nobody seemed to care except me and truthfully, there might not even exist one such spot here.
Not with 7 rather powerful mortal participants all declaring me as enemy number one. The images kept their distance, the brawler closed in immediately and the three thugs were happy to circle around me.
This might be a tad bit more difficult than envisioned...? "Nah, scratch that. Bereft of magic, suffering from sealed away mana and with a sore body and the defenceless youth in my arms... this will take a miracle."
With my chances looking this bad, I should be despairing. But the thing was... I laughed liberatingly. After this fight, I was free once more with a bag of money in my possession.
Plus... the inner beast I usually kept hidden thrived in such challenges. After all, immortality without variety translated into a fancier prison. And nothing provided more variety than random brawls!