“All of this to offer themselves to the World Eater at the last moment?” Lyriss looked at the scene before her eyes, puzzled why they just gave up in the last moment. The goblin has been pierced all over, his body no longer in any state to continue their struggle. The elemental instead would be chewed upon, nothing left behind afterwards.
All until the worm began to shake violently, its screams of anger turning into pained cries. It slammed its body left and right, striking against the walls and surface of the arena, even scraping at the sky above it.
“What’s happening?”
The spectators looked at the sight questioningly. There was no sign of injury or any attack that could harm the worm, but the cries it gave off told of something different. After a moment however its attacker became clear, as the worm’s skin melted from inside, releasing a glistening white light coming from the burned through holes.
It didn’t even had the chance to bleed as any blood was evaporated by the fire eating it from inside. Little by little its cries worsened, losing any strength as they turned into something unnatural. With the loss of its voice came an equal loss in strength, the wild shaking turning into nothing more than a tremble.
The light became stronger and stronger as more of the worm’s skin fell apart, until it finally couldn’t hold on anymore. With snapping sounds the flesh fell apart, as their own weight pulled the top away from the rest, both parts landing on the floor, trembling in their last moment, overshadowed by the bright orb of fiery light above them.
With the last trembles of the worm the light shined its last rays, fading away and letting the arena fall into darkness, seemingly far darker than before. In midst of the fading light was a small fire, no, the elemental, falling towards the ground.
And then the projection faded away, the black petal scattering, leaving nothing behind.
Goraa looked at the dead worm in front, before his eyes wandered above, the light fading to reveal the man he called devil. He began to fall, quickly gaining momentum that would certainly do the last bit of damage needed to finish him.
He tried to force his body to move, but it was in a far weaker state than he expected, the sickles of the worm easily shredding through the armor and crippling him for the moment. As such there was nothing he could do for the man that doomed his people. The man that saved them.
A message window informed him that they would be teleported out of here in a moment, that they were victorious, but that moment would happen too late for the devil. He resigned himself to hear the man splatter against the floor.
But the expected end never came, just like his earlier appearance Safrone arrived inside the arena once more, stopping the falling body with a mere thought. Then he glanced around, his view fixing itself on the goblin warrior.
“It would be a shame to see the winner of a Battle for Life dying to his wounds.” He directed his gaze back to the devil, no doubt taking this chance to analyze his body. “Very interesting.” He let out a barely hearable mumble before he looked back at the goblin.
“You shouldn’t tell others about this, as outcries about favoritism may resound once more.” While his words may have sounded friendly Goraa knew that he wasn’t asking nicely. “And I mean both of you.”
“What…” Gora wanted to ask him who he meant, but his words fell silent when the earth beside him opened up, revealing the mage. “Old man!”
The goblin man held his hand in front of Goraa to stop him quickly. Then he bowed towards Safrone, speaking with his head still lowered. “Mr. Meccart, we saw nothing, what should we even speak about?”
Safrone’s lips twitched, forming a small smile. “Excuse me, I seem to have spoken nonsense for a moment.” He offered a quick bow towards the goblins. “I wish for your speedy recovery Mr. Goraa. The Arena of Worlds will be waiting to present your performance once more. Now then, I should leave. This place will soon collapse.”
Just as silently as he came he disappeared, showing no signs how even when the two looked at him when he did so. Then their vision darkened, all sounds fading, even their sense of touch and smell.
With a surge of light, they were blinded as they resurged inside the exit room. The silence let them guess what their eyes proofed moments later, when they recovered their ability to see. It was completely empty, no one having expected, or even hoped, that they would survive this ordeal.
Forcing his battered body to sit up Goraa looked around. The room had a length of about a hundred-sixty feet and the wide half as long, making it easily one of the biggest places he had ever been in. Though this length was just the bare minimum for other races that fought inside the tournament, either through their size or their number of participants.
But now it just looked far to big as there were only a few goblins left behind, around five dozen at most, knocked out cold but still breathing. He heard step beside him, turning his head to see the mage standing next to him.
“I saved as much as I could when they were buried beneath.” He spoke in a raspy voice.
“You did the best you could, just like any of us.” Goraa responded weakly, the last few moments taking any bit of energy left prior.
“What should we do about the devil?” He pointed towards the other side, towards the one who fought against them, only to fight with them. He was clearly noticeable, giving off a glistening light with his flames.
Goraa answered with the words he first said since coming back here, though there was a noticeable difference from the cold rage before. “Leave him be.” A smile creeped on his face. “His strength will take him a long way, far away from what we can reach.”
