Death is anticlimactic.

It’s not always fireworks and heroism. No, sorry, it’s rarely that. It’s just a gruesome process that burdens everyone.

So, when my spell moves under Atticus’s armpit and doesn’t go out, contained by the same armor supposed to protect him… I just sigh. The heroic Elf falls amid all the [Flashes] that are still going off and probably blocked almost everyone’s sight. Life’s unfair, isn’t it?

My spell is still active and explodes inside the whatchamacallit armor. The staff doesn’t fall – it just stands over Atticus’s dead body. It’s a scene that doesn’t fit his previous heroic stance but that he does deserve. Whatever malicious thought they planted in his head, he could have chosen to be reasonable. And he didn’t.

The spoils are yours by the rules. You can also claim the corpse.

Lord Juler explains another piece of information that I didn’t know. It seems that [Archmage] Titus and whoever lent him the armor made a big mistake, didn’t they?

So, I can take both the armor and the staff?

Following the rules, yes. It’s customary that it should be returned if the equipment was borrowed. But it’s just a custom, not a rule. You should keep everything.

Once again, death is death, even when it comes with loot. I don’t feel much among the huge looming columns surrounding the arena. No, as I turn off the [Flashes], it just feels silly.

Not even the audible gasps of the audience help me get in touch with reality while I walk toward Atticus.

I put away both the corpse and the staff in my bag of holding. I’ll probably have to wash everything I hold inside there; or not. I’m not sure how it works. I’ll return Atticus’s body to his family as soon as I have the occasion too.

Now, there’s silence.

Thank God you don’t really have to touch much of a body to put it in a bag of holding. The strange process kind of looks like teleportation. Or sucking in a piece of spaghetti.

Oh, right, I almost forgot.

I take out the belt, trying hard not to touch the body while rummaging in the bag.

I raise said belt above my head, but this time with no music, no laughter. I just stare while slowly turning to take in all the people in the crowd. I look at them with a serious expression, somber. I hope they can see the whites of my eyes. Because now I don’t look like a buffoon anymore. No, the ridiculous costume I’m wearing makes my point even scarier. It fills them with dread to know that such an idiot has just killed a mighty Elf armed with a goddamn Relic.

If there’s a collective nightmare in this arena, it looks just like me.

Joey Luciani, let me.

Even before hearing his voice, I can feel Lord Juler’s magic mending the wound at my side. I did learn some healing magic, but I have yet to master any spell. Therefore, he takes care of it to avoid messing up the wound. I’m also tempted to drink a Mana potion, but I wait. The spike of ice finally comes out after a few seconds, and as it drops to the ground, I can breathe out with relief when the pain slowly disappears. It’s incredible how that piece of magical ice still hasn’t melted one bit.

That was unpleasant.

[Advanced Hexagonal Three-Folded Shield]

I raise a very thick, three-layered shield around me. Then I raise another, just to be sure. Atticus had played dirty, and I’m probably destined to see much more of that.

There’s still some smugness on the [Archmage]’s face. I mean the woman with the big golden wheel behind her.

They think they have seen your best moves now that Atticus provoked you. I don’t think it’s below those [Archmages] to have planned for this. But if they believe that that was the only or the best weapon in your arsenal, they are wrong.

Oh, I know they are wrong. But I still frown. Why are they so antagonistic? What’s their goddamn problem? Did they rile Atticus up to cause a scene? Was that ice shard even Atticus? Did he use an artifact that I couldn’t see? And what have I done to these people that they hate me so much?

The majority of the [Archmages] in the towers are Elves. Even if they are not, they have ties with the Elven Kingdom of Lucerna.

What kingdom?

This kingdom.

Right.

And so, if you turn out to be a real threat, which they are clearly not underestimating, you could undermine their political power.

I mean, I don’t really see that, but okay.

“Yo, are we announcing my victory?”

“You shall return your opponent’s body first.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’ll keep the stuff and bring his body back to his family later. But first, I say you all killed him by being massive assholes. What about that? And the ancient…”

Fuck, Lord Juler, are we sure these rules are still the same?

“… the ancient rules still stand. The spoils go to the victor. And the body if he claims it.”

Silence.

The [Archmage] hesitates for a second.

Then she nods, slightly unconvinced.

Oof.

I was sweating bullets there, woman.

I put down my belt and walk back to where I was standing before.

“So, next one, I guess?”

“The second opponent shall enter!” the announcer seems to have regained her composure.

Also, isn’t the use of ‘shall’ a bit too much?

When I see my next opponent, though, the hilarity dies in my throat.

Lucinda is slowly walking to the center of the arena.

As she closes on me, she enunciates the words very clearly.

“I challenge you to the death, Joey.”