The cheers immediately erupted with even more intensity, forcing Christopher to cover his ears. This man wasn't simply a Ruler… No, he was an existence greater than any in Gruzia, one whose words were law and orders, absolute.
As Marcus walked forth alone, his sharp features, coal-black gaze and mighty armor came into view, causing the roars to further intensify and reach their apex. But instead of relishing in the moment, the Ruler seemed to search for something…
No… Was it… Someone?
And that's when he and Lloyd crossed gazes, the latter subsequently plunged into indescribable despair.
This man… No, this monster...
Instead of feeling crushed by an unfathomable pressure, it was like he had been thrown into the vast emptiness of space, without anyone or anything to cling onto, desperately gasping for air while drifting into the void. Compared to him, even Alexander was nothing but a speck of dust. All his instincts begged him to look away, but he was petrified, his heartbeat frantically increasing the longer this went on. But through this hopeless vacuum, he remembered the feeling he had had during his negotiation with the Red Circle, the feeling of rejecting a higher authority and the one where he, and only he, was the master of his destiny. This realization caused endorphins to suddenly rush into his bloodstream, consequently slowing down his metabolism and allowing him to barely settle down. Of course, their staring 'contest' hadn't yet ended, which surprised Marcus, as such poise, in his presence, was extremely rare, especially for a merchant.
"How interesting…"
Still, the difference was just too much to overcome, and just as the engineer thought he'd faint and crumble to the ground, it ended, much to his relief. Unfortunately, it wasn't because Marcus was done, as he had instead turned to Alexander to also gauge his strength.
"What… What the hell… I've never met someone this absurd."
Whilst better than Lloyd, the General's reaction was still terrible. The gap between them was so pronounced that even his hands trembled, as if telling him that raising a sword at such a being could only result in one outcome: his extermination. But to Alexander, this only meant one thing, which was that his stay in Arcadia would prove far more entertaining than he had originally expected.
Despite initially grimacing, his dark eyes now brimmed with malice, seemingly challenging this currently unreachable foe.
"Just wait for me."
After satisfyingly evaluating the two men, a slight and deviant smile showed on Marcus' usually stoic face, surprising a few of the attendees. What could possibly make the Emperor show interest?! But before they could identify whom or what had done it, he had raised his hand to quiet the entire venue, signifying the beginning of his address.
"Welcome, my People. Today, we are gathered here at the Sanguis to witness the rise and fall of both old and new challengers. We are here to witness who'll claim the Showdown as his own, with both riches and glory at stake."
He then paused to let his deep voice resonate and hang throughout the arena, with everyone ready to explode. After letting the tension build up some more, he finally continued.
"MAY THE SPECTACLE BE GREAT, AND OUR MIGHT, GLORIOUS!!!"
His roar was followed by a loud eruption of cheers and praise, as every fighter below psyched itself for the beginning of the hostilities. Even Lloyd became filled with adrenaline, his eyes darting around to find Thomas, who was instead looking at a particular booth whilst petrified. By following his gaze, he arrived at one of the highest viewing suites that housed an aged, but clearly experienced and wealthy man. The most striking feature of this elder, however, was his piercing blue eyes that seemed to tear through Thomas' very soul. This was clearly the Wixton Patriarch, as evidenced by the primal fright of his son. It appeared that he hadn't yet told his father about his little stunt.
But despite how important the Wixtons were, Christopher's true opponent remained the cloaked figure standing next to the chubby and bald man, since defeating him would be like killing two birds with one stone. Still, he couldn't help but desperately want to analyze him, an urge he repressed with all his might. After all, there'd be no telling about what atrocities he'd endure if caught, making this a foolish endeavor.
In the end, he'd just have to trust Alexander which, considering his track record, was a fairly safe bet to make. And yet, he felt restless. Gruzia had so far exceeded all expectations in terms of strength, and with the General only at a fifth of his original self, there remained a very real possibility of defeat and with it, the end of their plans.
Amidst his restlessness, Marcus had retreated from the platform, instead making way to a woman of regal stature. Her raven-black hair, streaked with graceful strands of silver, was elegantly pinned up with a diadem encrusted with star sapphires, each shimmering as she moved, which reflected the weight of her wisdom and heft of riches. Her gown, a masterful blend of lace and silk, cascaded down her form in colors of midnight and deep ocean blue, the fabric hugging her in places and flowing freely in others. Finally, a delicate cloak, trimmed with the softest furs, settled on her shoulders.
With the crowd still boisterous, she raised a bejeweled hand to once more ask for silence, causing the Sanguis to turn into whispers, with everyone's eyes drawn to her like moths to a flame.
"As you may all know, the Showdown consists of two 16-fighters' brackets, of which the last survivor from each side then battle it out to win 1000 gold coins and untold glory. Only one chance will be given to everyone, with all but external help being permitted. The only things that'll determine an outcome are a forfeit, a complete incapacitation or death. After each battle, the wagers of the winner are tallied until their loss, when it'll finally be paid."
Her voice, though soft, carried strength that demanded respect, with not a single word of hers falling on deaf ears. After a brief pause to allow the participants to acknowledge the rules, she clapped her hands twice.
"Here are the two brackets, which have been completely randomized."
A huge three-dimensional hologram then appeared over the fighters, providing the spectators with a perfect view of the program. Of course, gasps of surprise and consternation were subsequently heard, of which the engineer was part of, since he immediately found his name at the very top against, you guessed it, Thomas. Alexander erupted in laughter next to him, as the shamelessness of these organizers knew no bound.
Forcing them to participate was one thing, but rigging the bracket as well?!
The General's reaction was in fact so brazen that those around them, including some viewers, began to become curious, and once they saw why, they couldn't help but pity them.
For many, the Wixton name was synonymous with victory, as they didn't participate in anything that didn't guarantee them results.
"Fantastic! At least we're not going to be left hanging around for too long."
Alexander was raring to go. This was the first time, since meeting Trevor, that his fighting instincts were tingling. This was what he lived for, and was why he had even decided to follow Lloyd in the first place.
Meanwhile, Christopher's shock gradually subsided, prompting him to look at Thomas one last time, his gaze now full of hate as the latter's face was still ashen from his father's presence. It was time to put some shame on their prestigious name.
When the crowd began to get rowdy again, the madam resumed.
"Now, here are the matches that'll be unfolding throughout the day!"
After clapping thrice this time, the brackets disappeared before making way to a list of fixtures which, unsurprisingly, had the scientist and Thomas going first. This opening matchup resulted in confusion spreading among those still unaware, although not for long as they all realized that the fight was between an unknown merchant and a Wixton, making this a done deal and therefore dampening the atmosphere.
However, that wasn't the case in some of the nobles' suites, as they had seen Alexander's prowess firsthand. For some, that miscalculation had cost them dearly, but this was different, and it seemed to present the unique opportunity to recoup some of their losses…
⁂
"Is this the Merchant that you were talking about? The one that used magic?"
"Yes. Not only that, but he was also tailed by a spy belonging to the Vexios. I, of course, got rid of it because it spied on one of our negotiations."
"The Vexios authorized that?! HAHAHAHA!"
The powerful and raucous laughter echoed in the luxurious suite, causing the servants around the seated man to tense up.
For the Red Circle's Don to laugh in such a way was never, ever, a good thing.
Even the reporting spy, who stood in retreat behind the chair, gulped in fright. While it was true that the Red Circle was not yet amongst the top Slave Trading organizations in Gruzia, it still didn't lack in any way, with their meteoric rise and ever-expanding reach being the fruits of this man's labor.
Once his laugh subsided, he then put a large cigar to his lips before lighting it with a flame coming out of his left thumb. After inhaling a few puffs, he blew out a large cloud of smoke, clearly indicating the end of his contemplation.
"They've grown quite shameless and reckless, but that's what happens when you stay at the top for too long. You just forget that not everyone likes the status quo. For the next month, I want you to find out about their plans and sabotage them, be it by bidding over their targets, or by capturing the merchandise they're after. Spare no expense, even in terms of personnel."
The spy immediately took a knee, fully aware of how important such a mission was.
"Will do, Don."
"Failure will not be tolerated."
"Yes."
"Very well. Now, what to do, what to do… It's been awhile since I've heard of such an interesting prospect."
While rolling the cigar at the corner of his mouth, a sly smile began forming on the rugged man's face.
⁂
Everyone had cleared the battleground except for the cloaked fighter and Alexander, each now occupying their respective sides. As for Thomas and Christopher, they had both climbed spiraling stairs leading to unique platforms hovering over their fighters, as if giving them an opportunity to advise them or be at the first lodge of their untimely demise…
Meanwhile, the crowd's energy had picked up a bit due to the General's outlandish physique and appearance. Despite the consensus heavily going against him, it still seemed like he was a phenomenal individual by Gruzian standards.
The mature announcer had also vacated the platform to make place for the last, and familiar, personality: Michael DeLoris. But his looks, previously informal, had changed, as he now wore a robe that showcased a masterful tapestry of fabrics and art. Its primary material was a deep, midnight blue that seemed to shimmer slightly against the three suns' rays, its rich hue a stark contrast to the sands below while giving him mysterious and ethereal qualities. And whilst his entrance had not been as energetic as the Emperor's, it was still apparent that the citizens held the chairman in high regards, their applauds and cheers reverberating loudly.
Once he had basked enough in their excitement, he began, his low and booming voice drowning out the leftover ambient noise.
"Thank you, everyone! Presiding over this event every month is always a joy of mine. Today, we mark yet another chapter of our prestigious Showdown, a competition that, as you all know and love, creates legends while marking the end of the road for many. But enough with the chitchat!"
DeLoris then briefly paused to allow a few cheers to come through, making it obvious that he was a very well-versed orator.
"For most, this opening bout seems like a boring and foregone conclusion since we have the prestigious Wixton name on one side… But! I think the wagers may change your mind. Coming from the Wixton side, we have a wager of 100 gold coins, a sum that is definitely nothing to scoff at. But on the other side, we have something that's more interesting. Merchant Lloyd has agreed to wager, instead of currency or materials, the life of his very own fighter."
Gasps, incredulity and ridicule exploded throughout the stands, since everyone couldn't understand why he had done such a thing, or why the fighter had even agreed.
What the hell was going on?!
But before the atmosphere changed too much, the chairman promptly continued.
"With the stakes now revealed, let's reiterate the rules one last time: Everything but external help is permitted. LET'S BEGIN!"