The others headed inside but I waited until the sandwich merchant rushed up the steps. As he huffed and slid the cart to a stop, I held up a hand to stop his spiel. I extended my fist and shook it. He looked down in confusion but slowly extended his palm underneath.
Five gold coins dropped into his hand. The vendor's eyes bulged out of their sockets and he started to push the coins toward me.
"S-sir! This is-"
I chuckled. "This enough to buy the cart off you?"
The poor elf wilted. "My... Cart? Uhm."
"Not the cart itself, just the food. Is this enough or do you need more."
His jaw dropped open and I saw Sereza shaking her head. I shrugged and grabbed one of the hefty sandwiches.
"Well?"
His eyes darted to my hand then to the coins and then the cart. He repeated the motion a couple of times before swallowing and regaining some composure.
"It's more than enough, sir. Would you like change?"
"No need. But if you could dump them all into this crate that'd be splendid."
"Crate, sir?"
With a wave of my hand, an open wooden crate appeared and clanked against the stone steps. He blinked a few times before slowly nodding. The entirety of his cart was emptied into the crate and the rest I piled together and carried in my arms.
"Th-thank you for your patronage, sir!" He started to push the cart down the steps but stopped long enough to glance behind him. "Good luck in your matches, Tyrant. I'll be cheering for you!"
Sereza's laugh followed the vendor's speedy retreat deeper into the crowd. I sighed and wrapped my tail around the crate's handle and started to drag it inside the booth.
"Why is Sereza laughing, and why do you look unhappy?" Igas grunted.
The booth shut with the enchantments locking into place.
"Not going to question the mountain of food?" Sereza asked before grabbing one of the sandwiches and flopping into her usual seat.
Igas shrugged. "Cyrus has the means and tendency to hoard food. I'm not complaining."
"You wouldn't dare. Or you'd have to kiss the fresh snacks goodbye. Just how many sacks of fries have you eaten by now?"
"Less than Celenae," he grinned.
"I heard that!" Celenae yelled.
"I'm laughing because the food merchant apparently enjoyed Mordred's matches. Called him Tyrant," Sereza teased.
"Oh. Eh, bound to happen," Igas shrugged as he swiped three of the paper-wrapped packages for himself.
The others quickly descended like hungry vultures. Never mind the fact that it hadn't even been an hour since we finished breakfast.
Khrem looked somewhat uncomfortable as he grabbed his own sandwich and watched as I summoned Chomperz. My familiar inhaled the crate and waved at the beastkin before slipping into my chest.
"He looks different," he said.
"Came with the evolution," I said.
"So you've ascended? I didn't want to assume."
"The tail and horns didn't give it away?"
He smiled. "I know potions and anatomy of the beasts from the island. Felkin biology is not well studied."
Fair enough.
We took our seats and I examined the crowd. If I wasn't mistaken, there were even more people than yesterday. And judging from the new towers placed around the colosseum's corners, they had people with stone manipulation create additional seating.
I managed to unwrap my sandwich when the announcer's voice filled the booth.
"Fine citizens of Solunaria! Weeeeelcome to the second day of the tournament!"
The crowd went ballistic and Teddy adjusted the enchantments. As the roar faded into background noise, the announcer paused long enough for the crowd to settle before launching into a zealous spiel.
"From bloodshed to victory. With flames and lightning, swords and casters. The one-on-one duels trimmed the competitors down and showed who was superior. Or was it luck? We'll find it today with a third series of duels before we begin the grand melee!"
"Grand melee?" I mumbled.
"It's a free for all," Teddy explained.
After another pause the announcer continued, the excitement in his voice setting the crowd alight.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"More will be explained after the duels, but those new to the arena are in for a surprise! The Grand Melee is a seeded brawl involving twenty of our competitors. For those who thought yesterday was flashy, wait until you see the mayhem when twenty ascenders unleash their skills in a crowded arena!"
Oh. That sounds fun.
"Careful there, Cyrus. Your mask is looking evil. One might think the Tyrant isn't just a character," Isaac teased.
I pushed the rogue away and he sank into the floor before reappearing next to his chair.
So I'm a little excited, bite me.
"Will they survive? Who will win? And will we see our fan favorites rise to the top?!" The announcer's voice grew in volume to the point where even the booth's enchantments barely suppressed his shouting. "Let the second day of the tournament... Begin!"
Heralding the thundering announcement, two tier-two fighters emerged from the tunnels and made their way to the center.
An elf dressed in bright silver wielding two swords sneered at a hulking human warrior with a hammer.
I recognized them from yesterday's matches. The elf used metal and pure mana to fight in melee range. He was fast, agile, and could curve his blade like my spear. The human on the other hand was a slower juggernaut who used earth mana to dominate his side of the battlefield.
It wasn't a bad matchup. It was a battle of speed versus defense, and guaranteed for a tense one-on-one.
I bit into my sandwich and watched them prepare their skills. The elf didn't have much to prepare but his opponent summoned slabs of rough stone to surround him. They orbited him in a clockwise motion, but I knew they could move in whatever direction he chose.
"Any bets?" I said.
"Elf guy, speed over the tank," Isaac explained.
Igas, Teddy and Celenae shook their heads.
Celenae summoned a barrier in front of Isaac's mouth. His sandwich smashed into the crystal and she dispelled it, letting the crumpled food fall to the floor.
"Defense beats speed. My bet is on Markanen," she said.
"That was rude," Isaac muttered.
The others threw their bets in and then we turned to Khrem. He glanced around the room before sinking into his chair.
"Yes?" he asked.
"If you're going to stick around, then you need to make a bet," I explained.
"A bet?"
"Yep."
"I see," he said. Khrem paused and leaned forward, studying the fighters. "I believe I agree with Celenae's judgment. The human fighter will win."
"You are fools. Too slow to understand the superiority of agility and ease of movement," Isaac taunted.
I rolled my eyes and focused on the match.
As I predicted, the elf rushed forward, seemingly gliding across the ground with every step. His opponent slowly raised his hammer and aimed it at the elf. The elf curved toward the side, avoiding the lazy swing and the floating rock in front of him. But Markanen continued the swing, and hammered the ground. The earth erupted, spikes shooting from the ground in a pulse. The elven fighter leapt into the air and swung his blades in a x-formation. Blue slashes rocketed toward the human's unprotected side.
At the last second, the slabs slammed into place, locking together to intercept the attack. The mana carved deep-gouges across the stone, and Markanen turned with another lazy swing.
Unfortunately for him, that wasn't the only attack sent his way. Another series of slashes pelted his shield, and the elven fighter swung around for a stab through the rear. A slab broke formation and spun to block, but the silver sword curved around the stone and managed to pierce the dull-gray metal of Markanen's plate.
The knick was the only score before the swing connected, sending another wave of spikes outward. The elf dodged, dancing around the arena avoiding damage.
"What's the elf's name? I missed it," I whispered to Sereza.
"Yura," she answered.
Yura sent more slashes and hopped back into melee range, weaving a path toward Markanen. The two clashed, with Yura avoiding injuries and managing to draw first blood.
From there the fight continued, with tense back and forth tradeoffs seeing Yura pull ahead. The elf kept to the hit and run tactic, but I noticed a flare in Markanen's mana. His hammer came down and rocks ripped themselves free from the sand. Yura ignored them in favor of scoring another lunge into his leg, but that's where it went wrong.
Instead of blocking the elf's attack, the slabs slammed together onto Yura's wrist. He tried to pull himself free, but a meaty wallop from Markanene's hammer rang with the wet crunch of bones and meat.
Yura crumpled, in a howl of pain before another slam took out his legs. There was a brief pause, when the entire audience gasped.
The bloody hammer smashed Yura's skull into the pit and came free. A loud buzzing declared the match over, and rings of light pulled Yura's limp body out of the arena.
I whistled and watched Celenae gloat.
"That was intense," I chuckled.
"It always is. At tier two, some individuals have enough power in their passives to make their weapons devastating. One incorrect guess, or mistimed attack can spell out your defeat," Teddy added.
"You're biased."
He grinned. "Maybe a little. But Igas is a good example. His blade is enough to effectively break bones if he cannot score a clean cut."
"Yeah, he did that once in a spar," I mumbled.
Teddy patted my shoulder.
The following three fights were just as exciting if shorter. Fighters in the tier-two category at least knew what their kits were and stuck to their guns. It was something I noticed after watching the matches.
Tier one fighters made more mistakes, or were more willing to do something experimental. A blow that someone more experienced may have dodged or deemed too risky, were sometimes gladly accepted by the tier one in order to secure a hit.
Most notably were the lack of one-hit openers during the start of the match. Nobody repeated what Sereza allowed during her match, none of the combatants willing to waste most of their mana pool on one big attack that could be dodged or blocked.
As the matches continued, Khrem started to relax, joining in on the bets that were thrown around.
Eventually though, an orange glow drew the eyes of the people in the booth. We turned and saw Sereza stand, staring at her bracelet.
"Wish me luck," she said.
"You don't need luck. You are more than capable of handling yourself," Eodyne retorted.
Sereza pumped her fist and exited the booth.
Minutes passed and I unwrapped another sandwich, finding myself strangely hungry. It wasn't long before the announcer started his next attempt at rousing the crowd.
"The deadly blade, a queen of poison. Fear her stingers lest you drop! She's brought many low and foaming at the mouth. Sereza!"
"Her intro has improved," I commented.
"The more matches she wins, the more effort they'll expend," Teddy explained.
Makes sense. Now let's see who's the chump she gets to paralyze.
"And entering from the right field, a warrior who's proven himself through blood and bone! The hound from the darkest depth, a harbinger of destruction! Lolthis!"
From the right side, a canine-beastkin man stomped across the field with a blade made of bone. His armor was of simple leather, stained and ragged. He admittedly cut an imposing figure, looming over Sereza by a solid three feet.
I don't remember him. This'll be interesting.
"Bets?" Isaac started.
"Sereza!" Lolthis roared.
Oh?
"I've a message from house Meldras," he continued.
Sereza's eyes widened, and her mana flared in a cloud of spectral green that traveled down her blades. Her stinger whipped around her head and aimed itself toward the beastkin.
"What did you say?" she demanded.
Lolthis revealed a row of sharp fangs in an ugly snarl.
"This is a message to your father," he growled. Sereza gripped her daggers but kept silent. He shrugged. "He has overstepped his bounds, and it's time to bring low the scum and his vile bloodline."
The first ring sounded out, and Lolthis retreated twenty paces. He swung his blade forward and drew his thumb across his neck.