Borax was a troll and an experienced warrior. This year marked his twenty-seventh year alive and his nineteenth year fighting on arena sands. Most prize fighters with as many years under his belt had retired, yet he was still going strong. 

It was for several reasons. First, he lived for battle. Back before he was captured from his homeland, he got into constant fights with his brothers and sisters, and despite being younger, he was bigger and stronger, and he won most of those fights. As he grew up, the violence within his blood grew stronger along with the pride that came naturally to a member of a martial race.

If he could not live his life as a free man, then he’ll live his life as a famous warrior that drew gazes wherever he went. He’ll live for the way his blood rushed when his weapon clashed against another. Even after he earned enough to purchase his freedom, he stayed.

Second, he was a troll. Casualties rarely happened in the arena, and any nonlethal wounds he could easily regenerate. As a result, he freely took what would have been considered grievous wounds on a normal person as long as he could land a hit on his opponent. Although his whole body was covered with tiny white lines, scars from past battles, none of them bothered him.

Anyone else with his history would have already backed out, but not him. Fighting past such pitiful injuries was child’s play to a troll like him. He will never stop chasing after the thrill of battle until he dies. Win or lose, it did not matter.

Now, he stood on the sandy grounds of the arena, awaiting his next challenger.

But from afar, a pair of cold eyes stared at him. Camilla leaned back, looking a bit bored. When she checked how much mana the troll warrior possessed, she was disappointed by what she found. It was a fraction of what she had; just a bit higher than Arvel’s maximum capacity.

“It would not be wise to underestimate him,” Kagriss said, guessing her thoughts from Camilla’s unimpressed expression and what she could glean through her bond with Camilla. “Trolls specialize in physical combat, not magical, so any reinforcement they use should be far superior to the ones that templars use. Compare…a skeleton knight, and a zombie mage.”

Camilla just nodded, though she didn’t bother to change her reaction. She wasn’t underestimating him. In fact, she was probably overestimating him, but Borax was still far from reaching her heights. Then again, it was probably unreasonable to expect just anyone to be as powerful as a jack-class zombie knight at the peak of her power.

“Can you find out anything about him based on how he is right now?”

“I could… It's a bit too far to make out details, but I can tell that he’s extremely confident. It doesn’t look like he’s very skilled in detecting magic. The other possibility is that he believes he can defeat Elyss even knowing how much mana she had.” Kagriss didn’t say any more. She was too absorbed in her reading to give the troll a second thought. Camilla sighed.

“If it’s the former, then he’s in for a bad time,” Camilla muttered, tapping her fingers on her armrest. “Elyss looks strong, but even scarier is her skill with magic. If he thinks that she’s only capable of brute force like other mana beasts, then he’s dead wrong.”

“Mil—Camilla…killing on purpose here is against the rules.”

“It’s just a figure of speech!” Camilla huffed and turned to Ismelda, who sat on the other side of her. “Did you plan this, or are our opponents chosen at random? Does this mess up a schedule?”

Ismelda shrugged. “It’s random. I merely gave the organizer your names and he paired you up with some fighters. Most fights except for the highly publicized ones are unscheduled, so no one will notice that anything is wrong. Nor will the fighters. To keep things interesting, they’re kept in the dark as well, so neither side has an advantage over the other in terms of preparation.”

“I see…by the way, are all of your brethren as hungry for battle as you and him?” Camilla asked, gesturing at Borax. “He looks like he’s ready to jump at Elyss.”

“…I’m not hungry for battle at all.”

Camilla wanted to ask her who she thought she was fooling. Who was the one that brought them here to the coliseum? Who was the one that pushed them to sign up? Who was the one that did her best to squeeze her own name into the drawing, only to be refused, with the organizer saying that Victoria forbade him from putting her in?

Her gaze told Ismelda everything, and the latter’s face reddened. “You wouldn’t stop bothering me, complaining about how the food might be bad or how sports might be too difficult for you to learn. Well, you know how to fight, don’t you? Just be thankful.”

“To be honest, I’d rather be in the library right now,” Kagriss said as she flipped a page on her book. “This is a very boring place.”

Ismelda nodded in agreement, grumbling about how hard to please Camlla was while turning a page on her book as well, leaving Camilla alone in her boredom. Leave it to the two bookworms to be reading when everyone else present was watching the battle. Speaking of the battle, it was about to begin.

The announcer’s voice boomed around the amphitheater, enhanced both by magic and by the design of the amphitheater itself. “Start!”

At his signal, Elyss lunged forward, a ferocious glint in her eye. Borax charged forward just as eagerly, his axe raised behind her, ready to be swung forward in a devastating slash that could sunder any normal armor.

Mana rippled through the troll’s arms, activating reinforcement spells as it went, and entered the axe. Camilla’s eyes widened and she leaned forward to get a closer look. “Oh? A magic weapon made from beast parts?”

“There’s no need to be so impressed. Compared to what Victoria has in storage, such things are garbage in comparison.” Ismelda had looked up from her book and was now puffing up her chest in pride.

Camilla glared at him, giving her a judgmental look that one would give an idiot. “It’s not like it’s yours, so why are you looking proud?”

“Because my sword is a magic weapon too!”

“…okay.”

While they spoke, the two combatants had already begun to brawl down in the sands. Unwilling to use her own body to fight against a magic weapon wielded by a powerful troll, Elyss decided to use magic instead.

Instead of clashing head on with the whirring blade of the double-handed axe, Elyss bunched up her muscles and leapt over the troll, whose eyes opened wide at the unexpected maneuver.

When he saw the battle lust in Elyss’s eyes, Borax thought he found someone the same as he was, but he was wrong. This lioness was not like him. She was like the others, dodging around. In that case, he will do the same. First, he’ll act as if he’s blinded with rage, fighting mindlessly, and then…

He gritted his teeth, skidded to a stop, and turned around, but before he could pick up speed again, a spear of earth rose from the ground. His eyes opened in alarm and he swung his axe, barely managing to break off the tip of the spear before it could impale him.

“You…” Borax was breathing hard, glaring at Elyss. “Come on! Fight me head on!”

“Why?” Elyss looked at him. “Are you stupid? Why would I fight you where you’re strongest? I like fighting, but I like winning more.” She bared her teeth in a lion’s imitation of a smile, which made the troll’s face redden.

Borax scowled, for real this time. It didn’t seem like the beast was going to get overconfident. He squatted down. 

At first, Elyss was puzzled about what he was doing, but she soon found out. The ground below the troll’s feet erupted and propelled the troll forward like a springboard. The troll pushed off at the same time, his powerful legs combined with the springboard making him appear in front of Elyss before she could react.

“Got you!” he snarled and aimed his axe at Elyss’s shoulder. He couldn’t kill, but he could cripple. His strike, enhanced by magic and with the power of the magic weapon activated, should be enough to cut clean through the bone of even a mana beast.

A gasp rippled through the crowd and some even covered their eyes, expecting the sands to be dyed red, but what they feared did not come to be. The troll’s eyes were full of disbelief. The axe cleaved right through Elyss’s shoulder, passing through her body as easily as if nothing were there.

Indeed, nothing was there except an empty image of Elyss.

“That decides it then. He’s bad at magical detection. Normally it won’t matter since you’ll usually see the magic coming and he can handle those that he could see, but it’s different this time.” Kagriss closed her book and began watching the battle in earnest. “This time, he’s facing Elyss.”

Camilla nodded. With her mind’s eye, she felt the flow of mana and saw a giant lion moving swiftly behind the troll. The lion was invisible, concealed by light magic granted to her by her golden fur. That same fur left behind an image of her as a trap, and sure enough, Borax had fallen for it, attacking a mere illusion.

Before the troll could recover from his shock, sandy spires rose from the ground, instantly turning the battle field into a forest of stone. Spikes rose up around him as well, not jabbing him directly but trapping him in a cage. He easily broke out with brute force, but by the time he did, the spires were already created.

“I’m here,” came a low, predatory growl, almost echoing between the spires.

Borax whirled around, looking for the source of the voice but finding nothing.

“Wrong way. Here!”

He turned again to no avail. Where was the lion?

Laughter rang out from behind him as if coming from thin air. “If I want to, you’d already be on the ground by now, unable to move a finger.”

“Where are you?” Borax shouted, swinging his axe at the air. This time, his anger wasn’t feigned. “Come out!”

After a pause, the voice continued. “But this is the coliseum. An amphitheater. If I don’t put on a show, then wouldn’t it be a shame?!”

The troll’s eyes widened. A show. He should be the one at the center! Not that lion! Not that beast. He turned, looking all around him, but all he saw was stone, stone, and more stone. Not a sign of the lion to be found. He knew that the damned beast was hiding in plain sight, but he just couldn’t find her.

Already, boos were starting to sound from the artist. His heart froze. Was he the target of their boos? But even in battles where he lost, he still received support from his loyal fans. What made it different now?

But those boos werent directed at him. Once again, the voice rang out, full of mirth. “Fine, fine. Well then, playtime’s over.”

At the same time as the sound of the word “over” disappeared from the air, a huge shape appeared out of thin air and crashed down on top of Borax, knocking him to the ground. With a sickening crunch, Elyss crushed the troll’s shoulders, shattering bone, the pain and sheer shocking blacking the troll out for a second.

That second was enough for Elyss to summon more rocks to encase the troll, shackling him to the ground. This time, without the help of his arms, he wouldn’t be able to break out.

Without wasting another second, Elyss jumped off, landing next to the crippled fighter. She sat down and began to clean her paw. At the same time, the sandy spires rumbled and descended back into the ground where they came from as if they had never appeared in the first place.

Silence greeted her, stretching on for a second…two seconds…three seconds…until the amphitheater burst into cheers. Elyss paused in her washing and looked up, eyes twinkling. She didn’t look at anyone in particular; not even Camilla and Kagriss; instead, her gaze swept through the whole audience and she bathed in their praise and worship.

Here, where the gazes of thousands upon thousands of eyes landed, was where she belonged.