The grand building stood like a towering monument to power and history, casting its shadow over the bustling city below. Its architecture was nothing short of breathtaking, with walls carved from gleaming white stone that sparkled in the sunlight. Massive, sky-high pillars framed the entrance, each intricately engraved with scenes from ancient battles between gods and mortals. Above the massive doorway, a huge mosaic depicted knights kneeling before colossal deities, their swords raised in devotion. As Luci approached, he couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship—the detailing so fine that even the smallest engraved soldiers appeared lifelike.
Inside, the building was even more impressive. The ceiling was impossibly high, supported by rows of polished marble columns that stretched upwards, their surfaces adorned with banners of the different kingdoms. At the center of the hall, a golden chandelier hung like a radiant sun, casting beams of light across the room, which was filled with people from all corners of the land. The air smelled faintly of incense, mingled with the tension of competition and ambition.
Luci stepped into the registration hall, the noise of the crowd hitting him in waves. The room was divided into sections, with long lines snaking through the hall. Each race had its own line—humans, goblins, dwarves, centaurs, and even a few more exotic beings that Luci couldn't immediately recognize. He saw a half-horse, half-man creature towering over the other participants, its hooves clacking loudly on the stone floor as it shifted impatiently.
Luci, blending in as a human, moved into the human line. His eyes darted around the room, carefully observing his surroundings. Then his gaze settled on the goblin line. His jaw clenched instinctively as the sight of their crooked grins and shrill voices stirred something deep within him. Goblins. He couldn't stand them.
His mind flashed back to a memory he didn't want to recall—a time when goblins had caused him unimaginable pain. His hand tightened into a fist, and though he wasn't aware of it, the tension in his grip created a ripple in the air. The atmosphere in the room shifted subtly as if a powerful gust of wind had passed through. Papers on nearby tables fluttered, and people in the hall paused, looking around in confusion.
"What was that?"
"Did you feel that wind?"
Even the centaur glanced over his shoulder, his ears flicking as he sensed the sudden disturbance. But Luci remained unfazed, his mind still locked on his hatred for goblins, his fist clenched so tightly that the invisible chains around his wrists vibrated with tension. He forced himself to relax, releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and the air around him calmed once more.
After what felt like hours, the line moved forward, and Luci finally reached the front of the queue. The man behind the registration desk was older, with a gruff, no-nonsense demeanor. His eyes were sharp as they scanned Luci's form, assessing him before speaking.
"Registration fee is 2,500 coins," the man said flatly. "No exceptions."
Luci didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small leather pouch. Without a word, he tossed it onto the desk. The pouch landed with a satisfying clink, and the man's eyebrows rose slightly as he opened it, revealing far more than the required amount.
"This should be more than enough," Luci said, his tone indifferent. "Consider the rest a donation for the gods' ritual."
The man's expression softened slightly as he pocketed the coins. "Generous of you," he muttered, scribbling something down in a large ledger. He waved over a younger man standing nearby. "He'll take you to the ritual room. Follow him."
Luci nodded and followed the young assistant, who was barely older than a boy. They moved through a side corridor, the air growing cooler and more oppressive as they descended deeper into the building. The walls here were plain and unadorned, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the main hall. Their footsteps echoed in the silence.
As they neared their destination, a door burst open, and a man stormed out, his face twisted in anger. "Why wasn't I chosen by any god?" he raged, slamming his fist into the wall. "How am I supposed to participate in the tournament without a blessing?" He stormed off, cursing under his breath.
Luci paid him no mind. *This humans are worthless relying on their gods to give them strength .*
The assistant led Luci into a large chamber illuminated by flickering torches mounted along the walls. In the center of the room stood several stone pedestals, each one holding a sword embedded deep into the rock. The swords gleamed faintly in the dim light, their hilts wrapped in leather, their blades polished to perfection. A few other participants were already in the room, attempting to pull the swords from the stone, but most failed.
The young assistant turned to Luci and spoke, "This is where the gods decide who is worthy. You'll need to offer a drop of your blood, and it will be poured onto the hilt of the sword. If the gods accept your offering, you'll be able to lift the sword. If not…" He trailed off, leaving the failure unsaid. "If you manage to lift the sword, the god that chooses you will grant you a boon—a powerful gift. But be warned, using the boon carelessly can cost you your life."
Luci nodded, taking in the process. He watched as one participant stepped forward, offering his hand to a woman who was there to draw blood for the ritual. The woman cut a small line across his palm, and blood dripped onto the hilt of the sword. The man strained, his muscles bulging as he tried to lift the sword—but it didn't budge. He stepped back in defeat, his head hanging low.
It was Luci's turn next.
The woman approached him, her eyes scanning him carefully. She held a small dagger in her hand and raised it to slice across his wrist—but something made her hesitate. Her brow furrowed as she stared at his skin, sensing something unusual. Though she couldn't see them, the chains around Luci's wrists repelled the blade. She couldn't explain it, but she felt something was off.
Without saying a word, she moved the dagger to his elbow, trying a different angle. But as soon as the blade made contact, it shattered into pieces, the metal splintering as though it had struck stone. The entire room fell silent. The onlookers watched in stunned amazement, their eyes wide with disbelief.
The woman's face paled, and she stepped back in shock. "What… what are you made of?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Luci smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "Let's skip the blood part, shall we?" he said casually, stepping past her toward the nearest sword.
She nodded, still too stunned to speak.
Luci grabbed the hilt of the sword, and with a single, effortless pull, he lifted it free from the stone. Gasps filled the room as he moved to the next sword and lifted it just as easily. Then another. And another. By the time he held the fifth sword in his hands, one of the other participants murmured in awe, "Is he chosen by the god Hercules himself?"
The woman who had tried to cut him finally found her voice. "Put them back!" she stammered. "You've already proven yourself. You don't need to lift any more."
Luci shrugged and placed the swords back into their stones with the same ease he had lifted them. Without waiting for further instructions, he made his way toward the arena, leaving the others to marvel at what they had just witnessed.
The arena was an enormous coliseum, its stone walls rising high above the ground. The seats were packed with spectators, all eagerly awaiting the battles to come. A shimmering barrier of magic separated the arena floor from the crowd, ensuring that the combatants couldn't harm the onlookers. The ground itself was uneven, a mixture of cracked stone and packed dirt, designed to challenge the warriors' footing.
Luci stepped into the arena, his eyes scanning the crowd. The energy in the air was palpable, the roar of the spectators like a living thing. The announcer, standing on a raised platform, introduced each combatant with booming enthusiasm, hyping up the crowd for the first match.
Luci's opponent entered the arena moments later, drawing immediate gasps from the audience. He was a massive man, towering over Luci by at least a foot, his body clad in thick, heavy armor that gleamed in the sunlight. His face was hidden behind a visor, but the cold menace in his posture spoke volumes. In his hands, he carried a warhammer so large that it seemed impossible for a normal man to wield.
The announcer's voice rang out. "Let the first match… begin!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, the magical barrier shimmering as the two combatants squared off. But as the massive warrior began his charge, his warhammer raised high for a crushing blow, Luci's mind was elsewhere.
**I wonder if there's any roasted chicken left from the feast,** he thought, his stomach growling slightly. **I could really use some right now.**
As the hammer came down, Luci sighed inwardly. **Priorities.**