The Colosseum's ancient grandeur towered over us, a striking contrast to the futuristic circumstances that brought us to this dramatic setting for our mock battle. As I surveyed the arena, the other champions and their servants were also adjusting to the new surroundings – it was my first time seeing the other servants.
Among them, I could identify only a handful, such as Neil Armstrong and Nikola Tesla. The Colosseum's massive stone walls, weathered by centuries of history, created an awe-inspiring sight, instilling a sense of reverence within me.
However, it wasn't the time for such contemplation; my focus shifted to finding the optimal vantage point for watching the matches. The dilemma of whether to sit on the top or the front row crossed my mind, but I settled for the middle – a perfect position, not too far from the action yet at a safe distance from potential wreckage.
The others stood in the arena, awaiting instructions from the God, who suddenly appeared at the center. With his hands raised, he declared, "Alright, everyone, get ready for your battles. Today we'll witness your skills and, perhaps, reduce your numbers," he added in a whisper.
"The first two participants are Dari Reyes versus Natalya Miroslava. The rest can join Val. You two have five minutes to discuss strategies with your servants before the match begins," he continued.
Observing Dari's and Natalya's servants for the first time, Dari's servant appeared cheerful, seemingly in his twenties, with light brown semi-long hair, glittering yellow eyes, and a violet T-shirt adorned with flower stamps. Holding a sketchbook and paintbrush, he struck me as an artist, leaving me curious about his role in the impending war.
Natalya's servant, on the other hand, seemed more serious and intimidating, likely in his forties. His face was partly concealed by a mask, revealing only white short hair and eyes. Dressed entirely in black – shirt, coat, trousers – he embodied a real-life "man in black." Carrying a massive sniper rifle on his back and a silenced pistol in hand, there was no question about his occupation.
"So, did you finish studying those two?" I heard a voice coming from my right.
Upon hearing that voice, I turned my head to find Olivia sitting next to me. I hadn't noticed her arrival, engrossed in my thoughts. To my surprise, Marie was engaged in conversation with Kaguya as well.
Olivia, seemingly aware of my contemplation, remarked, "Judging from your in-depth analysis of why Dari chose a painter as a servant, I suppose you haven't fully understood the situation we are in. I guess you also wondered the same for me."
"How did you..?" I began, only to be interrupted.
"It's written all over your face, you know," Olivia said playfully. I mentally scolded myself for underestimating her.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the show will now begin," the god announced, bowing as if presenting a theatrical play.
Anticipating an advantage for Natalya's servant in the upcoming confrontation, given his association with war, I was proven wrong. Natalya's servant promptly drew a handgun and fired at Dari, but a magically conjured brick wall shielded him.
Olivia's earlier comment resonated as I realized the surreal nature of the battle. Dari's servant swiftly sketched a brick wall, protecting Dari from the gunshot. The line between reality and magic blurred.
"Do you know who those servants are?" I asked Olivia.
"Nope, but you can just give them nicknames. For example, I'll be referring to Dari's as 'The Painter' and Natalya's as 'Deadshot,'" she suggested.
"Are you sure you didn't take 'Deadshot' from somewhere else?" I teased.
"Don't stick on unnecessary details. Just use the nickname and shut up," Olivia retorted.
As I focused on the fight, Deadshot vanished in a black mist, reappearing behind Dari with a gun aimed at his head. Yet, The Painter swiftly cut the gun in half with a butcher knife he conjured.
Feeling awkward using the nicknames, I vowed to discover and use their real names. However, this seemed challenging, because their appearance differed vastly from depictions online, like Marie's.
Returning from my thoughts, I observed Deadshot and The Painter engaged in a knife fight. While seemingly evenly matched, The Painter was at a disadvantage with a broken knife, using random creations for defense. Deadshot relentlessly attacked, leaving The Painter exhausted.
"Do you know that you're actually the eleventh champion?" Olivia whispered.
"Eleventh? Weren't we ten?" I questioned.
"We were ten until recently. Your place was held by a girl from Norway who disappeared without a trace, presumed dead."
"What happened to her?"
"Some claim she was seen with the God before her disappearance. The next day, news broke of her hanging from the ceiling. We keep quiet about it due to fear," Olivia explained.
Understanding the potential danger, I thanked Olivia and delved back into my thoughts. If Kaguya's warning about the god was accurate, and considering the mysterious circumstances of the girl from Norway, I needed to tread cautiously. The god's peculiar interest in me raised questions—was it curiosity or something more sinister?
I raised my head to observe the figure seated across the colosseum. A smile crept across his face, triggering a sense of foreboding based on what I had learned. As I scanned the unfolding scene, it became apparent – Dari lay on the ground, struggling for breath, while his servant, wounded, rested nearby. Behind them, Deadshot aimed his sniper rifle at Dari's head.
"Kaguya, how quickly can you summon your spear, and how precise is your aim?" I inquired.
"I can summon it instantly, and I can hit anything within a kilometer, as long as I can see it. Why do you ask?" Kaguya responded.
"I need you to throw your spear right between Dari and Deadshot," I instructed.
"Deadshot? The guy with the gun?" Kaguya sought clarification.
"Yes, him."
Now, I needed to determine the precise moment for Kaguya to act. Deadshot's sniper likely used 7.62 cartridges with a bullet speed of 850 m/s. Normally, closing the distance would be impossible, but Kaguya defied logic. I assumed she could throw the spear with enough force to match the bullet's speed.
"What are you waiting for? Finish the duel," the god exclaimed.
Deadshot prepared to fire, unauthorized by Natalya, but I intervened. "Kaguya, now!" I shouted.
She swiftly rose, summoning her spear and hurling it before it fully materialized. The boom coincided with her expertly slicing the bullet in half. Her speed, slightly slower than the bullet, narrowly averted disaster.
As I glanced back at the god, I noticed his smile had vanished, replaced by an intense stare fixed on Kaguya.