For the rest of the day, Christopher had mostly forgotten his main task of coming here - to enter the Pools of Tranquility. The new, exciting bustling atmosphere of the surrounding area made him lose his senses of direction, as he was generally enjoying his time.

He managed to push past the crowd towards one of the many stages set up across these fields. This one, adorned with weaving blue-silk banners and guarded by armed soldiers, was specifically interesting. On the stage, there was a spectacular act, consisting of a dozen young women dressed in dark-reds that were skillfully dancing in unison and producing bright-red flames around them to make it even more stunning.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his shoulder. Looking around, it was the familiar figure of Ernesto.

"Yo man, whatchu doing here? You ain't gonna fight in the pits?"

"Oh, sup, Nesto. Are you talking about the fighting arena? Are you going to fight in it?"

"Of course, didn't that short guy tell us to find the Pools? To get there we need to win, you know."

"Well, after seeing some of the people fight around here, I don't think we would have a chance even one-on-two." - Christopher sighed.

"Ahah, don't worry bro. I got a hang of the place around here, made a couple of friends. Here, since we've all been transported here, I'll help you out." - Ernesto quickly shook Christopher's hand and left with a smile.

"Woah.." - he opened his palm just to find out a very small, but a bright blue-and-white pill.

"I guess it's one of those, huh. Well, all or nothing, I guess." - with blood boiling in his veins, he started running over to the Pit, but soon realized that is was a mile or so off, so he power-walked instead.

He quickly joined a large stream of people filtering towards that round stone arena-like structure, and, as he got closer, more of its details got revealed: a circular white-marble structure over a hundred meters in diameter and dozens of feet tall, that was surrounded by hordes of armored men, monks, and decorative golden statues. While there seemed to be many entrances and exits to this building, everyone was filtered towards a singular, frontal one. On the right side of the large entrance, there was a golden plaque saying 'For Participants', and another on the opposite side saying 'For Spectators'. Naturally, Christopher was interested in participating.

The few elderly-looking people that were in charge of registering the many participants, allowed anybody willing to join through, and completely off-charge. As he passed that process, registering himself with his real name and hailing from Dalaran, he was lead across the large Colosseum into an oval-shaped room, not more than a hundred feet across, where there were many dozens of people scattered across the many benches, chairs and general free space.

Christopher pulled his clothes closer to himself, took in a deep breath, and took one of the free shadowed spots in the room. He carefully listened in the conversations being held.

"Hah, look at you all, coming here from so far just to be beaten to death? Don't you think you all have any chances against my clan's 11th brother! Scram!" - a young man boastfully stood up on one of the chairs and angrily looked at the crowd.

"Well, well, would you look at that. Isn't that the Bai Clan's jester? Hah! You are not qualified to even speak to us. Even a single thought from me would be sufficient enough to evaporate you." - another man, but more elderly-looking, stood up, alongside with four other people next to him.

"Don't you dare to speak to our Bai clan like that, Marcus, I will not take this offense." - a man in his 30-s, burly and tall, calmly stood out amongst the crowd.

At this moment, people formed a small ring of open space between these individuals.

"Do I need to remind everybody, why this old bastard is here? Let me tell you. It's his 19th attempt to win in this competition. Every year, he comes down here just to be beaten down, like a dog, again."

"Hahahaha..." - the crowd started laughing and talking amongst each other, while the old man deeply frowned.

"QUIET!" - a powerful voice resounded in the room, making everybody go quiet instantly. At this moment, a very old man, dressed in the same robes as the elder monks of this place, wave his sleeve, indicating everybody not to make the same mistake, and quickly left.

As the atmosphere started bustling back, both the men looked at each other, one with extreme pride and one with deep hatred, but turned around at took back their seats.

Christopher was taken aback by how easily the elder could take control of the situation, but he did not want anything to do with these people.

"Ay, who'd you think will win?" - a man in his forties, with one of his eyes dysfunctional because of a wound, nudged Christopher.

"Out of those two? I would hope the old guy wins. That Bai clan seems to be very prideful."

"You think he'll win? Hah! You wanna make a bet, boy?"

"Not interested, sorry."

"Pff, brat." - he frowned and turned away.

After about ten minutes, as the air inside was getting progressively more filthy and stale, one of the elders came inside and brought everyone upstairs, to top-row seats, where there were a few armored guards posted to keep watch. As the many participants were seated, thousands of spectators started appearing on unoccupied seats, cheering and excited for the upcoming show.

A man eventually walked over to sit next to Chris, Ernesto.

"Hah, you've come after all. Good shit." - Ernesto was clearly happy and excited.

"Yeah, this is quite a lot you know... What does this pill do anyway?"

"Don't worry about it, just take it before you go in there. You'll be fine."

"Ok then. Do you know how any of this works?"

"Yeah, some of it. Generally, the competition is split into multiple phases, with randomly selected people fighting each other in one-on-one combat, filtering the winners and losers, until eventually having only two people left fighting over the title of champion. But, as far as I know, you only need to get to the 10th place and above to be considered worthy of entering the Pools of Tranquility."

"Sounds easy enough."

"But, there is one twist though. The losers get a chance to redeem themselves, as they can offer their life to get another chance to fight a different person. If they lose - they will be executed on the spot. Scary shit."

"Yeah..."

At this moment, an extremely loud horn could be heard all across the arena, as the crowd starting cheering. There were multiple gates scattered across the interior base of the Pit, and, walking out of one of them, was a tall man in a classic black business suit, with a black and white cane in his left hand, and his right hand holding onto a very tall top-hat. The man had a bright white mustache and wrinkles scattered across his face.

"Welcome, welcome to you all to the Ruby Pits! I hope you all have been enjoying the Birth of the Gilded Serpent so far, and I can see by the fiery eyes of our participants this year that they all can't wait to step into the light. The rules are simple: beat one another in a fight using no weapons or Arcane spells and you will progress further down the ladder. Get to the top, becoming the Champion with many prizes bestowed upon you! We all cannot wait to see what you have to present to us this year! For our first participants, Daniil from the Karfkas Fields and Lord Druvly from the Kalmari Dominion!"

The crowd started clapping, whistling and yelling out in excitement, as two people stood up from the seats and jumped a hundred feet down into the pit. One, Daniil, was a young-looking tattered man, with a set of manacles attached to his wrists. The other one, Druvly, was a tall and burly human, with a black cloak strapped around his back and open-chested.

"Let the fight commence!" - as soon as the referee shouted, both the men disappeared from view, only to immediately appear in front of each other, throwing heavy punches at each other's faces.