Max just sighed and asked which pit he was assigned to fight in next. “Report to pit two” the goblin said before going back to calling out names for other matches from the book in his hand.
As he headed over to the arena he was set to fight in, he noticed once of the brutish goblins watching he from the benches off near the back of the fighter’s rest area.
“Got something you want to say” Max said as he took a subtle defensive posture, not sure why this creature was staring him down. “Humans don’t belong in my city!” the brute simply said while not breaking eye contact. He didn’t get up from his seat though, which Max took for him not wanting to fight just yet.
“Why might that be?” Max asked rhetorically just trying to get a rise out of the beast. “After what your kind did to our people for millennia, you have some nerve showing up in the heart of our city, pretending to be some fighter. My parents both died the last time your kind attacked, and I’ll be damned if I don’t kill you my self in this “tournament”.”
The hobgoblin didn’t move, but Max could still feel the killing intent radiating from the it. He really didn’t like humans apparently. Maybe if he tried reasoning with it, things might go better for max later. “I’m not part of any human faction around here” Max said while keeping his composure under the pressure the creature was putting off. “I’m just trying to win some money in this tournament like everyone else.”
Instead of responding, the hobgoblin just stared daggers back at Max. Oh well, I’ve got a fight to get to anyway. Max had his sword ready as he stepped through the gates but was a little surprised to see the pair of goblins he identified earlier. Drask and Veyl were both standing on the other side of the arena just staring at Max as he entered. One had a spear with a serrated tip, and the other was sporting a short sword and shield combo. “This is going to be fun” Max said as he stared back at the two goblins before him.
“Why the hell do you two get to fight together, while the rest of us have to fight solo” Max yelled at pair.
“We are a package deal monster” the twins spat in unison toward Max. “The tournament rules never said bonded souls couldn’t fight together” Drask said as Veyl continued, “We are of one mind in two bodies.”
“What the hell, how does that work” Max exclaimed. “Survive and maybe you will learn a thing or two” the two goblins said in unison. The next moment Drasks spear was flying through the air, aiming right for Max’s throat. “So, it’s going to be like that huh” Max said as he moved to the side while knocking the spear away with his blade.
The clang of steel echoed through the pit as Max deflected the spearhead, sparks flashing where Solaris Edge met the serrated tip. Before he could counter, Veyl was already rushing him from the side, shield slamming forward. The impact rattled Max’s arm and forced him back a step, boots grinding against the cracked stone floor.
The crowd roared in approval, spittle and jeers raining down from above.
Max regained his footing, jaw tightening. They’re coordinated. One presses, the other punishes.
Drask retrieved his spear with a whip of the chain strapped to its shaft, yanking it back into his hands. He immediately thrust again, aiming for Max’s thigh this time. The attack wasn’t probing — it was meant to maim. Max barely turned it aside, the serrated edge grazing his leg and drawing a hot line of blood through his trousers.
“Yield,” Max barked, his voice carrying across the pit. “We don’t need to take this too far.”
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Both goblins sneered in unison, their voices overlapping like a twisted echo.
“Yielding is for cowards.”
Veyl lunged again, his short sword stabbing for Max’s gut. Max caught the blade on Solaris Edge, but Drask was already there, spear sweeping low toward his knees. Max twisted away, sparks flying as steel scraped steel. The twins pressed relentlessly, never letting him breathe, never giving him room to end it clean.
The crowd loved it.
Max gritted his teeth, deflecting another thrust. “Last warning,” he growled. “Stand down before I—”
The spear shot straight for his heart.
Something inside Max snapped.
All the restraint, all the hesitation, all the second-guessing vanished in an instant. If they wanted to kill him, then mercy was a weakness he couldn’t afford. His eyes narrowed, and mana surged hot and wild in his chest.
He shoved Solaris Edge hard against Veyl’s shield, knocking him back, then thrust his free hand toward Drask. Mana flared, condensing in a heartbeat into a blazing sphere of fire.
The goblin’s eyes widened — just before the fireball engulfed him.
The explosion shook the pit, fire licking up the cracked walls. When the flames cleared, Drask’s body lay crumpled and blackened on the stone, spear shattered beside him.
Veyl froze, his mouth opening in a wordless scream. He staggered, staring at his twin’s body — then snapped his gaze back to Max, fury blazing.
“You dare use magic?” he spat, voice trembling.
Max’s answer was silence. He surged forward, Solaris Edge glowing as he poured raw mana into the runes along the blade. The weapon hissed with power, and with one clean, brutal swing, he cut through Veyl’s guard. The shield split, the sword flew wide — and the goblin’s head toppled from his shoulders in a spray of blood.
The pit went silent for half a heartbeat. Then the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, stamping feet and howling approval at the carnage.
Max stood over the bodies, chest heaving, the weight of the moment settling over him. His sword dripped red, his ears still ringing from the explosion. He’d wanted to win without killing. But the twins had forced his hand.
[System Prompt]
Qualifying Match Complete: 2/10
Result: Victory by Death
Credits Earned: 150
Status: Advanced to Next Round.
[System Prompt]
Confirmed: You have slain Drask and Veyl, Bonded Souls — Level 18
Credits Awarded: +320
Loot Obtained:
- Serrated Spear (Uncommon)
- Splintered Shield (Common, Damaged)
Level Up!
You are now Level 16
Stat points allocated.
+3 Free Points
Max wiped Solaris Edge clean on Veyl’s shredded tunic, then turned toward the gate. The crowd’s cheers washed over him, meaningless noise. Mercy had no place here. Not in these pits. He wasn’t sure where the spear and shield went, but assumed the system put them into his storage ring back with the rest of his things he couldn’t take into the fight.
If every fight is like this… He tightened his grip on his blade. Then this is going to be a brutal tournament. At least I already gained another level.
The gate creaked open, and Max stepped back into the waiting area. His arms were still trembling faintly from the mana surge, and the coppery stench of blood clung to him like a second skin. Fighters who had been lounging on the benches now eyed him warily, whispers spreading like wildfire.
Near the back, the hulking hobgoblin from before sat with his massive frame hunched over, arms resting on his knees. His eyes tracked Max with cold, unblinking focus.
When their gazes met, the brute finally spoke, voice low but cutting through the room like a blade.
“You’re all monsters.”
Max paused, then looked away, saying nothing. He didn’t have the strength or patience to argue. He just wanted to sit, breathe, and let the adrenaline drain from his system.
He sank onto a bench, resting Solaris Edge across his lap. His knuckles were still white around the hilt, but slowly, steadily, the tension eased. For now, at least.
Thankfully, Max wasn’t called to fight again that day. His body ached from the strain, but at least he had the rest of the evening to recover. An enforcer directed him toward a nearby barracks set aside for tournament contenders, little more than a long hall lined with rows of crude cots.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Max’s storage ring made the move easy — no gear to haul, no packs to shift around. He picked an empty cot near the corner, tossed a thin blanket over it, and leaned back with a sigh. It wasn’t home, but it was a place to rest, and right now that was enough.
Sleep came quickly, but it was never deep. Every time the door creaked open and another fighter stomped in, Max stirred awake, hand drifting automatically toward his sword before relaxing again. Boots thudded against the floor, weapons clattered, guttural laughter rose and fell. The barracks never truly quieted.
Max closed his eyes once more, exhaling slowly as the noise dulled into the background. Tomorrow will bring more matches, more blood. For tonight, all he could do was try to rest in the company of enemies.