Silence reigned.
The light orbs flickered as if afraid to vanish. The arena floor creaked under the weight of tension. The air was so thick it felt like liquid. Soldiers, nobles, villagers… all were frozen. Many lay unconscious, crushed by the overwhelming essence pressure that saturated the space.
At the center of the arena, Dyor, his body on the verge of collapse, remained standing. He had fought without rest. Without healing. Without mercy.
And then… Colosus entered.
The ancient giant, six meters tall, walked as if the world bowed with every step. His presence wasn’t just imposing… It was crushing.
Gravity itself seemed to multiply. Those still conscious dropped to the ground, faces pressed against the dirt, as if the air itself pinned them down.
Even Elizabeth, who moments earlier had nearly split Dyor in two, dropped her sword, trembling. She leapt to her knees. Her gaze remained cold… but sweat betrayed her fear.
Everyone bowed.
Everyone…
Except one.
Dyor.
Panting. Bleeding. Eyes burning with something stronger than pain.
Colosus saw him.
And laughed—a thunderous roar that shook the stadium.
—HAHAHAHA! Essence-less brat… I like you! —he said, clutching his stomach from laughter—. Not just anyone survives five years of torture… and still stands tall!
He approached. Gently patted Dyor’s head, like a rebellious pup.
Dyor stared back, fury simmering beneath his silence. His eyes screamed vengeance.
—That look… —Colosus muttered—. That’s the look of a warrior.
He placed his massive hand on his chin, deep in thought. Without turning, he bellowed:
—Olimpus! You useless insect! Get up and come here!
Olimpus, still bowed like a fearful servant, shot to his feet. Pale-faced. Rigid posture. He stood beside Dyor, saluting with a trembling voice:
—Y-Yes, sir!
Colosus lowered his tone, but his voice still rumbled like thunder:
—From this moment on… this runt beside you… will be your superior.
Olimpus blinked. His jaw clenched. And with a firm but shaky voice, he dared to speak:
—Sir… I don’t mean to oppose your judgment… but I don’t agree that this essence-less insect should outrank me.
The stadium froze.
Colosus turned slowly. His gaze was molten fire.
—You DARE question my decisions, Olimpus!?
Before anyone could react, two noble landowners stood to support Olimpus.
BOOM!
Their heads exploded instantly. Bodies dropped like broken dolls. The sound echoed like a divine hammer.
The rest… stayed down. Shaking.
—You’ve grown arrogant, Olimpus —Colosus said, arms crossed—. Brat… I’ll reward your courage.
He extended his arm toward Dyor. A sphere of green essence floated in his palm, pulsing like a living heart.
He launched it at Dyor’s chest.
BOOM!
It exploded on contact. But no wound appeared.
Dyor, panicked, clutched his chest with both hands.
—What did you do to me… monster?
At the word “monster,” something ignited.
His body convulsed. A burning sensation erupted from within. His skin cracked. Blood seeped from the fissures. He scratched his chest and neck like fire crawled beneath his flesh.
Green and gray sparks slithered around him like living lightning. The air grew even heavier. Olimpus, beside him, sweated hail-sized drops.
The only sound was Dyor’s screams of agony:
—ARGHHH! AHHHHHH!
Colosus laughed.
—If you survive this pain… and your body adapts within two hours… I’ll make you my right hand.
The air began to ease. The screams faded. One by one, people rose, stunned by what they saw.
The sparks fused into Dyor’s body. His skin gleamed like polished stone. The cracks vanished. The wounds… were gone.
Colosus clapped slowly.
—HAHAHA! Insolent brat… you never stop surprising me.
Someone in the stands stood and began to clap. Then another. And another.
Soon, the entire stadium erupted in applause. Like late summer rain falling on scorched earth. Cheers of joy, excitement, and awe filled the air.
Even Olimpus clapped… though reluctantly. He didn’t look at Dyor.
He opened his mouth to speak—
But then—
CRACK!
Stone and dirt exploded. A “swing” sound sliced the air. Wind surged in, delayed like time itself had bent.
Olimpus was embedded in the wall.
He spat blood.
Dyor stood, fist clenched. He had struck in a flash.
Colosus burst into laughter.
—HAHAHA! Marvelous, runt… you’re almost ready to help me in the war that’s coming.
The stadium fell silent.
Dyor glared at him.
—I never agreed to help you in any war. My goal… is to kill you. And destroy the other elders.
Colosus smiled.
—That’s the spirit we need to wipe out my useless brothers. Don’t worry… you’ll get your chance to kill me. Just like the fish oracle said.
He turned, pondering.
—As they say… the enemy of my enemy… is my enemy… or was it?
Dyor corrected him, dryly:
—Idiot… it’s the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Colosus laughed.
—HAHAHA! So that’s a yes!
Dyor didn’t answer. He lunged with a surprise punch.
Colosus caught it with one hand.
—You’ve got guts, no doubt. But seriously… we’re out of time. Let’s begin your training immediately.
Dyor landed, frustrated.
—Fine… you win. But don’t get it twisted. I’ll be the one to kill you.
—Olimpus! You pathetic weakling! Stop napping and train this brat! —Colosus roared.
Olimpus began peeling himself off the wall. First a leg. Then an arm. Until he dropped to the ground, forming a small crater.
He cracked his neck.
—That hurt, brat… Apologies, my general —he said with sarcasm—. Don’t think this training will be easy. You’ll wish Elizabeth’s sword had finished you… HAHAHA.
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