"I-I-I-I can not believe it! Isaac has done what we thought was nearly impossible! He decommissioned all the golems with just a wave of his hand! Just who is this mysterious challenger from Igni Town?!"
"Isaac! Isaac! Isaac"
The crowd thumped with exhilaration while screaming his name in sync. My brother was relishing in his newfound fame, oblivious to the envious glances of the other participants.
"Do you feel satisfied now after your little performance?" I sneered.
He let out a chortle. "Satisfied? Hardly. I'll only feel satisfied once I crush the competition."
Isaac picked a pebble off the ground and crushed it between his fingers, the residue highlighting his fingertips. While I was transfixed by Isaac's fingers, the golems were now back in their original positions, silent and still.
Nevar nodded and addressed the audience. "The golems have now been reset! After that astonishing performance by Isaac, I don't think it'll be topped! The crowd is still in an uproar! Alas, the tournament must continue. The next participant will be number 28! Please make your way up to the arena!"
"Haw-haw! It is now my turn!" A jubilant voice rang out. This time it's the demogre from earlier that was badmouthing us in the lobby.
"If small fry like you can get 30 points, I can easily double it. If only there were more of them, haw-haw…"
While it trudged up the steps, Isaac yelled out to him in a mocking tone. "Don't hurt yourself out there! There's no shame if it becomes too difficult!"
The demogre snapped his head at the goad. It looked ready to beat Isaac to a pulp but stopped itself from continuing and just turned away.
"I have more important matters to attend to," the demogre grumbled. It was now standing at the edge with Nevar.
"Hello there! Aren't you just full of muscle… What's your name and where are you from?"
"I am Doukur from the outskirts of the Wyvern Zone!" the demogre boomed. When Doukur mentioned his birthplace, a chorus of voices rose from the stands, chanting a traditional tribal song. It was coming from the monsters who had their bellies painted. They were extremely loud, even amongst all the chatter in the jam-packed stadium.
Nevar squinted his eyes at the demogres in the crowd. "Oh? Just who are those fans of yours, Doukur?"
"Hahaha! They are friends and family members, of course!"
"Riveting! Now then, how many of these golems will you start with, Doukur?"
Doukur pointed his large meaty thumb at the snickering Isaac. "Every single one of them! That little cub will not outshine me!"
Yep. Isaacs' living rent-free in his head right now. Was that his plan all along? I'm surprised it worked.
A flicker of a smirk rose on Nevar's lips. "It looks like we have another challenge! Will it be another sweep? What does the audience think?!"
"Sweep them! Sweep them!"
"And there you have it, Doukur! Whenever you are ready!"
Once Nevar left, the demogre pounded his chest in a drum-like beat as if he was a gorilla intimidating its enemies, his loincloth swaying like a reed in a breeze. The golems sprang to life at his provocation and charged. He reached from behind and pulled out a studded metal club four feet long. The weapon was covered in splotches of dried, rusty-looking blood, and areas of the metal had chipped away.
"Yes! Come to me! Haha!"
Doukur's legs bent slightly and with a mighty roar, he leapt high into the air, causing the ground beneath him to crack and split from the force.
"That's gotta be at least five meters," I muttered. Long jumpers would pass out in shock if they were to see this display.
Like a catapult, the demogre plummeted back into the arena; the club stretched high above. Upon landing, the ground itself shrieked from the impact. I had to shield my eyes or else I would go blind from the flying debris and dust. The space around the demogre was completely enshrouded, like a veil. Once the area cleared, more than half of the golems were pulverized, and the bodies keep on piling up. Doukur was like a rampaging bull, obliterating anything he could get his mighty club on. One of the golems went flying up in the air while another one's head smashed through the floor. His fighting style was brutal and simple; crush anything that moved in his view.
"The mighty Doukur is absolutely mowing through the hoard of golems with the ferocity of a wyvern, and he isn't slowing down in the slightest! Just what is expected of a demogre!"
The people roared at this display of power; their conjoined voices were louder than an air show composed of the fastest jets on Earth.
"I knew he was strong, but I didn't think he would be this strong," Isaac hummed.
I narrowed my eyes at his comment. "Did you want him going all out from the beginning, Isaac?"
My brother glanced in my direction and shrugged. "Yes, but watching him now, I feel as if he's holding back even more power."
He stroked his chin while inspecting Doukur's every move. He looked like a head coach studying the film of the opposing football team. When I turned my gaze back to the demogre, he had already finished. He grabbed the neck of a squirming golem and crushed its head inside his big palms, tossing it aside like a pile of trash.
"I knew they were weak. However, this experience was somewhat fun, haw-haw!"
Nevar adjusted his tie and addressed the rabid audience. "A-And just like that, folks! We had ourselves another massacre! Doukur, the demogre from the outskirts of the Wyvern Zone has annihilated the golems and gained 30 points!"
With a satisfied grin, Doukur retreated into the line of participants.
"Doukur! Doukur! Doukur!"
We haven't even gotten through one-fourth of the queue and the spectators are already this crazy. It makes me shudder to think about how hyped they would be in the main tournament…
"While our esteemed mages repair the arena and the golems, let us look at the rankings!"
In the middle of the stadium, a blue holographic screen appeared with a leaderboard. It had all the participants' faces plastered on it and next to them was the number of points they currently had. In first place was Isaac with a whopping 30, and under him was Doukur with 30 as well. The rest had zero since they hadn't gone yet.
"Why am I in second place? What is the meaning of this, bird?" Doukur growled.
The announcer clicked his tongue and wagged his finger. "Not so fast there. The reason you're in second place was that it took you longer to destroy the golems! If the score between two participants is tied, the one with the faster time breaks the tie! I thought it was common sense!"
Doukur glared at Nevar as the veins on his neck bulged. I thought he was about to grab the bird by the neck and strangle him, but Nevar purposely ignored his hostility and continued speaking into the microphone.
"The mages have completed repairs!"
They used earth magic to repair some parts of the destroyed arena. As for the golems… I do not know. My knowledge of this world is limited. Should I ask Clein to teach Isaac and me the ways of the world while we're here?
Nevar reached into the box once more, scrounging for another challenger to come up. "Let's keep the momentum going! We had ourselves back-to-back jaw-droppers, and this is only the preliminaries! The next person is number three!"
When his number was called, a stocky man wearing chain mail armor stepped forward from the far edge with a quiet clink. The horns on his helmet were curved downward, evoking the shape of a banana. He had a bushy brown beard, with one braid twirling down his chin, and his steps were slow and waddling as he made his way to the announcer. He reminded me of a child dressing up as a Viking for Halloween.
Nevar had to lower the microphone just so the guy could speak. "Hello there. What's your name and where did you come from?"
The stout man answered in a gruff, masculine tone. "Tholdred from the Dwarven Kingdom northwest o 'ere. Let's git on with it, eh? I ain't gat all day."
"Er, certainly, Tholdred! How many will you take on? 30 like the previous competitors?"
Tholdred chuckled at the announcer's taunt. "30? ha! I know mer' own strength. Just gimme 19 o 'em."
Nevar shrugged and smiled, as if to say: 'You caught me'! Once Nevar was far enough, the golems activated once again. Out of nowhere, the dwarf pulled out a war hammer from his pockets. The audience squealed with an 'ohhh' echoing among them.
"The Dwarf Tholdred pulled a hammer that's obviously too big for his pockets! Just how was he able to do it? Was it a Dimensional Pouch? Only he knows!"
Tholdred ignored the announcer and the crowd and proceeded to whack the golems away. Comparing Tholdred's to Doukurs' fight, the dwarfs was underwhelming. The audience thought the same as even though they were still cheering, it was a few decibels lower. Nevar tried his hardest to commentate, but that's hard to do when you're only facing golems and nothing noteworthy is happening. It's just people beating up non-sentient punching bags. After about a couple of minutes, the fight was over. The dwarf wasn't breathing heavily, but it was noticeable that he had to sweat a little as his chest puffed.
"Tholdred has defeated 19 golems and has earned himself nineteen points! He is now third on the leaderboards and we still have many more to go!"
After the dwarf, it was now a slog watching most of the competitors. There were scores of 16, 14, 8, 3… It was kinda baffling. Either you're extremely weak to have only defeated three, or the golems are just that strong. If it's the latter, it goes into perspective how incredibly tough Isaac and Doukur are compared to the others. Speaking of tough, it was now Myra's turn. She mentioned she got second place in the last tournament. I wonder what she'll show us.
At the sight of Myra, Nevars' eyes sparkled. "Oh? We have ourselves a special one! It is none other than the elf, Myra! The runner-up from last year!"
The stadium regained its vigor as soon as they recognized Myra. I guess they were getting bored watching the weaker participants. When Myra got close enough to Nevar, she grabbed the microphone out of his hands and spoke into it.
"Let's just cut to the chase, mic guy. Send all those hunks of scrap my way! I'll finish them in under ten seconds, flat."
She then tossed it back to Nevar. After her declaration, a silver bow materialized out of thin air. It looked masterfully crafted, as if it was created under the brilliant light of a silver moon. The weird thing about it was there was no quiver or arrows. Just where did she pull the bow from and how will she use it without arrows?
The golems awoke and spotted the elf drawing her bow. Before they could take another step, an arrow made of mana manifested on the drawstring, and everything else was a blur. With extreme speed and dexterity, she lodged a mana arrow at each golem's head with aplomb. It was a work of beauty, like a pianist conducting an allegro. She had done all of this in under a minute.
Nevar bobbed his head at Myra's expected performance. "And just like that, she did not disappoint! With pinpoint precision and accuracy, Myra has effectively and elegantly dispatched the golems with swift movements! She has earned herself 30 points and will overtake Doukur for second!"
"Only second? Damn it. I was hoping for first," the elf cursed. Myra looked a little pissed, but that expression evaporated after she sighed and returned to the sidelines as the masses screamed with a fiery passion. As I glanced at Myra, Isaac tapped me on my shoulder.
"What do you think, Laila? Who do you think is faster between you two?"
I crossed my arms and contemplated Isaac's question. "Hm… I don't know yet. We can only conduct estimations based on what we saw, and I'm sure everyone is holding back somewhat. I'm sure she has more to show. We'll have to wait and see at the main tournament."
"Yea, I agree. I asked a stupid question," Isaac mumbled. He's been analyzing every opponent, hoping to find the best possible solution to defeating them if he's to ever fight them. His fist was clenched tightly, and his eyes were ablaze with the fire of his competitive spirit. He couldn't wait until he fought a worthy adversary.