"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Colosseum!"
"I am Wayne, and I must extend my deepest gratitude to Your Grace, Duke Sauron, for granting me the honor of hosting this magnificent event. It is a privilege to stand before such an esteemed audience." announced a man clad in nothing but a simple white robe, standing prominently at the forefront.
After a series of introductions and heartfelt welcomes, particularly addressing the highest-ranking nobles in attendance, Wayne continued.
"I understand that many of you are visiting Arsnova for the first time, while others may have visited briefly in the past without the chance to experience the Colosseum. With that in mind, allow me to begin by explaining what the Colosseum is, how it operates, and the rules that govern it."
Lumien listened carefully to the announcer, trying to identify any differences between the Colosseum here in Arsnova and the one he had learned about from Earth.
After a few minutes, he came to a conclusion: there wasn't much of a significant difference. The Colosseum here also hosted gladiator battles, but instead of pitting fighters against wild animals like lions or tigers, Arsnova had prepared mythical beasts such as Trolls, Hobgoblins, Centaur, Rune Bears, and others for the match.
The gladiators weren't ordinary people either and came from all sorts of backgrounds. Some were slaves, others were adventurers, and a few were warriors from faraway lands. Despite their differences, they all had one thing in common: every one of them had awakened their Mana Core.
To keep the fighters motivated, the Colosseum had a reward system in place. Gladiators earned points for defeating mythical beasts, and these points could be exchanged for a range of goods, including weapons, armor, potions, and other essential items.
The rules of the Colosseum were straightforward. Gladiators were allowed to forfeit at any time. However, forfeiting didn't guarantee one's safety. Mythical beasts, mindless and uncontrollable, wouldn't stop just because a match was called off. The danger of getting hurt, or even worse, was always present in every battle.
...
"I've talked long enough, and I'm sure some of you are growing impatient. So, without further delay, let's dive right into our first match! Introducing our first gladiator of the day, a wanderer swordsman from the icy North! Rumor has it he's a disciple of the Eternal Ice Goddess Sect, now on a mysterious quest of his own. Please welcome, Alden Everwinter!"
Lumien's ears caught thunderous noises as the western gate slowly opened. From the shadows, a man in his thirties stepped out. His face was expressionless, his hair was black with a hint of white sideburns. A saber hung at his left side, swaying slightly as he walked.
He made his way to the center of the arena at a steady pace, completely ignoring the roaring spectators, as if they didn't exist.
Impressive focus! If it were me, I'd probably be shaking from all those eyes staring at me! Lumien thought.
"And now that our gladiator is here, let's welcome his opponent from the side of mythical beasts!" the host said, his voice filled with excitement. "This dangerous Red Troll caused havoc in Lila Village, dozens of kilometers away from Arsnova just last week, taking nearly hundred of lives. It was hunted for days before finally being captured by the joint operation of the knights and adventurers. During its capture, we learned its name: Yoink!"
The host's announcement was followed almost immediately by a loud 'bang' from the eastern gate.
The sound didn't come just once. It echoed through the colosseum in a steady rhythm, like the beating of a war drum. The spectators couldn't help but feel their hearts pounding in sync with the booming noise.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the gate creaked open, revealing a massive creature. Standing five meters tall, its skin was an intense, fiery red, as if it had been scalded. Sparse hair grew on the back of its head. Its long, muscular arms and legs made it look both powerful and menacing. Its face was strikingly sharp, with a tall, prominent nose and a pointed chin.
It did nothing at first, but when its glowing eyes scanned the crowd, a chilling silence fell. Anyone who met its gaze felt as though they had come face-to-face with pure terror, frozen in place as if hypnotized.
Without waiting for the host's signal to start the fight, the Red Troll abruptly lunged toward the stands. Screams filled the air as the spectators tried to move, but their bodies refused to obey, paralyzed by fear. Many squeezed their eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable pain.
Bang!
But nothing happened.
When they dared to open their eyes, they saw the troll, its outstretched arm inches away from a man on the frontmost seat. The massive hand hovered, frozen mid-swing, as if some invisible force had stopped the creature just before it could strike.
The Red Troll, clearly displeased, raised its other hand and swung it down like a hammer. The man before it, looking as small as an ant in comparison, had already fainted in terror, his pants stained yellow.
Yet, just as the massive hand was about to strike the unconscious man, it stopped abruptly, as if hitting an invisible wall.
Bang!
The host, snapping out of his shock, quickly addressed the crowd. "Don't worry! The entire building, except for the arena floor, is surrounded by an invisible barrier. This barrier blocks any attack or projectile from reaching the audience, so you're completely safe."
A voice from the stands shouted nervously, "How can we be sure? What if the barrier breaks?!"
"The barrier won't break. It's impossible! Unless it's attacked by someone at a Master's level of power. And even if that were to happen, we have Duke Sauron here to protect us!"
All eyes turned to Duke Sauron. Despite the chaos, he remained calm, sitting as if nothing could faze him. With a small nod to the crowd, he silently reassured them that they were in safe hands.
The crowd, many of whom were already making their way toward the exits, hesitated and slowly returned to their seats.
Though they desperately wanted to leave the building, they dared not risk offending the Duke, who had yet to make a move himself. His continued presence kept them rooted in place, despite their fear.
"This is dangerous," Lumien heard his father mutter anxiously.
"But we can't leave, not while the Duke is still here," his mother replied in a low, trembling voice. It was clear she was still shaken by the troll's sudden attack moments ago.
"The troll seemed to realize it couldn't harm us and redirected its attention to the swordsman," Azalea suddenly remarked.
Lumien quickly refocused on the arena. Though startled earlier by the troll's ferocity, he was no stranger to danger. Having brushed shoulders with death countless times, he wasn't as shaken as most others and swiftly regained his composure.
By the time his gaze returned to the arena, his heartbeat had steadied, no longer racing with fear. Instead, he felt a growing anticipation for the battle about to unfold.
But as his eyes swept across the battlefield, he frowned. Alden Everwinter, the gladiator, was nowhere to be seen.
The Red Troll seemed equally perplexed, its massive form shifting cautiously as it scanned its surroundings.
After a few seconds of close observation, Lumien's keen eyes caught a flicker of shimmering silver light on the troll's left leg.
Then, a deep, rough voice echoed faintly from the arena floor.
"Ice, grant me strength!"