The fresh flowing air, majestic trees, and dancing leaves painted a rather calm and serene image, a far cry from the truth of the 10th floor.
Maxwell walked through the painting-like forestry with his blocky companion flying by his side, flapping its wings violently to keep up. The two had only two objectives in mind, avoid detection by other contestants, and find one of the treasures hidden throughout the floor by the gods.
“any idea on where we should look, or what we should even be looking for?” Maxwell turned an eye towards Gomu, dropping a surprisingly complex question on him.
“it could be anything really, [Legendary] tier equipment can take any form, a simple pebble hidden in plain sight could be a powerful artifact, and unless you have keen senses you would be unable to even know it’s there.”
It was as he said, the magic required to create such high-tiered equipment renders the actual material utterly irrelevant. A [Legendary] sword made out of wood could slice through layers of folded steel as if it were butter.
“I don’t have any appraisal skills, can you do it?” Maxwell asked between labored breaths.
“think you idiot, the gods wouldn’t just allow us to help the contestants to such an extent. No, in this form I have no appraisal skills or combat ability, you are on your own. I’ll be cheering you on while you’re getting killed though.” Maxwell could almost see the smug expression on the cube’s flat, stony face, but instead of giving in to his desires and violently poking him in the eye, he picked up on a puzzling detail within Gomu’s explanation.
“hold on, to what extent can you actually help me?”
Gomu’s eye took on a confused expression to Maxwell’s surprise, and it took him more than a few seconds to answer what was the easiest question he was asked so far. “honestly… I don’t know.”
“are you an idiot?” the shock led Maxwell to stop running and engage in an eye poking-wing flapping battle with Gomu, which ended with Gomu’s victory.
“listen to me you idiot, I’ve only been a part of four Tartarus contests so far, but I never even spoke to another player as much as I did to you, and we are still on the 10th floor. The mortals chosen are usually in the zenith of their power. They see us helpers as glorified rule books that can be replaced when they lash out and annihilate us for no reason, they are as powerful as mortals can get so it makes sense, most of them agree to join for the thrill of battle alone. Point is, I have no idea what good I could be or how far I can take it.”
Aside from the chills running down his spine, Maxwell also felt like he had an advantage over the other contestants. They are powerful beyond his wildest dreams. That he understood clearly, but they also disregarded a useful tool by default due to that overwhelming power, and he couldn’t.
Suddenly his eyes opened slightly wider than usual and a wry smile appeared on his face. “so… how high can you fly?”
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“this is quite the lineup you’ve put together, I’m surprised you’ve brought in so many fresh faces.”
A feminine voice echoed throughout the darkness, reverberating off 10 massive chairs that appeared to float in the infinite void. Each one different than the other in both design and materials which ranged from beautifully hand-crafted works of art, made from the rarest of precious metals and gems, to hobbled together abominations of stone, skulls, and blood.
“I agree, I haven’t brought my own champion this time, but I can see a few promising mortals here that might just earn my favor.” A male voice answered, his tone dyed in a hint of excitement.
Giant shades sat upon the thrones and chatted away, watching the chaos of the 10th floor of Tartarus even when nothing but darkness surrounded them.
“oh my, is that so? I didn’t expect old man Ares to take a liking to this batch, they aren’t prancing around covered in their own blood and filth, mindlessly slaughtering each other like animals, is that not your preferred kind of mortals?”
A different voice replied, coming from the shade of a voluptuous woman sitting atop a throne made of blooming roses, their petals dyed in all colors imaginable to man. Her tone so beautiful and gentle it could charm all men with a whisper, yet Ares did not enjoy her sarcastic words.
“like you’re one to talk, at least my followers do war and die gloriously on the battlefield, what the fuck do yours do Freyja? Sing, dance and fuck to death?” (Ares)
“as if you’d know what that feels like, you old bastard. I command my followers to do as I do, the last time you were on a battlefield Chronos was still alive.” (Freyja)
“how sad. For them to be commanded by a whore is just unfortunate.” (Ares)
Their bitter tones clashed throughout the void accompanied by faint chuckles and tired complains of their childish behavior.
“you two need to show the proper respect, have you forgotten where you are?” another voice interjected, a deep hoarse one that stood out even within the cacophony of unique tones clashing within the bowels of the void.
“you stay out of it, Susanoo, why are you even here? I thought these types of tournaments were beneath you and your pompous brother?” (Ares)
“my sister wanted to experience the thrills of Tartarus. I am only here to accompany her. You should be thankful to be anywhere near her divine being, you useless old fool.” (Susanoo)
The Argument born of childish insults between Ares and Freyja turned into an entire spectacle as every shade present insulted or at least underhandedly tried to annoy another, and it only continued to worsen the more voices joined in, until the 11th throne appeared out of the void, one much different than the rest.
the voices seized, returning the void to its natural, silent state, and the eyes of the shades turned towards the newest throne to appear, nervousness clear in their gazes. It was larger than all the others and made of metal so dark it swallowed up the darkness of the void itself.
“how dare thee, speak in the presence of this pfft… sorry, I couldn’t keep it up, what’s going on guys, I see you’re still angry as ever old man Ares.” The shade that appeared atop the pitch-black throne was the smallest of the bunch, and his playful words were met with groans and curses from the others.
“Loki, as idiotically suicidal as always I see, get down from there before the king returns.” (Susanoo)
“addicted to danger as always Loki, your tricks won’t save you from death you know, but at least you’d die with all your important bits working just fine, unlike old man Ares.” (Freyja)
“keep barking at me whore, that’s all you can do. And you Loki, shouldn’t you show more respect towards us, you brat? You were still suckling on your mother’s teat when I was slaying titans.” (Ares)
“oh c’mon guys, lighten up, will you? We all know the king won’t be arriving any time soon, he might show up when the mortals reach the ninth floor, but even that’s unlikely knowing him. Anyway, have you been paying attention to them? They are doing some interesting stuff.”
The shade of Loki disappeared and quickly reappeared on his own throne, one made of giant pillars of Ice with various items and bodies trapped within their bitter embrace for eternity.
“hmm, they still haven’t engaged in any combat, I can never understand what your definition of ‘interesting’ is.” (Freyja)
“well, I have my eyes on a particular mortal, the last one to be invited, take a quick look at him.” (Loki)
“haaah? He’s so weak! What happened there, is the king that worried about summoning mortals back from the dead to participate? And what is he even doing with his helper?” (Freyja)
“how disappointing, I didn’t make the time to watch a human who can’t even carry a sword correctly get slaughtered, there is no excitement there, but thankfully he appears to be the only one who’s that weak.” (Ares)
“…I admire his bravery to accept the invitation, but he truly is foolish his death won’t be easy.” (Susanoo)
Murmurs filled the void, mocking the weakest participant and exchanging theories behind why the king even allowed him to participate, but no such thought even ran through Loki’s mind, for he was truly invested in his unusual behavior.
“I haven’t the slightest clue, but this is truly interesting… perhaps he’ll be my first champion in over 10 000 years.” (Loki)
