The colosseum thrummed with psychic energy. Massive marble arches and hovering monoliths framed the battlefield below, all suspended high in the air by invisible telekinetic power. The air itself shimmered faintly with force barriers.
It was not built by hand. It was willed into existence.
Myrith descended from the upper balconies, her silver armor gleaming under the pale light that spilled through the citadel's crystal ceiling. A smile tugged at her lips as she turned to the captured goblins, hundreds of them, bound by psychic chains, squirming and hissing in terror and defiance alike.
"Welcome, little beasts," Myrith said, voice carrying across the arena. "You stand within the Aethelgard Colosseum, a place of evaluation, training and… entertainment."
Mudhand snarled, his fangs bared. "You mock us, woman! Let us go or face the wrath of the Gnarlak Kingdom!"
Myrith's grin widened, her tone teasing. "Wrath? I'm rather fond of wrath. But you see, I'm also fond of understanding the strength of this world. And what better way to do that than through a little… test."
She turned slightly to the row of armored figures behind her, hundred Esper Knights standing in formation, their black-and-gold armor humming faintly with psychic resonance.
Each one bowed as her gaze passed over them.
The goblins, thrown into the center of the arena by the Esper Knights' telekinetic grasp, stumbled to their feet. A few tried to run but slammed into invisible walls, their bodies rebounding painfully.
Mudhand barked an order. "Form up, damn you! They want a fight? Then we'll show them the power of Gnarlak!"
He turned back to Myrith, his tone rising with forced bravado. "You think we'll break so easily? Interrogation or even torture, it will get you nothing. We would die before betraying the kingdom."
Myrith tilted her head, amused. "Oh, interrogation? I would never waste my time with such boring things. No, I thought something… livelier would suit you better."
Her halberd floated behind her, spinning lazily in the air as she continued, "You'll fight one of my lord's knights. One by one."
A murmur of disbelief rippled through the goblins.
Mudhand's face twisted. "You think we'll dance for your amusement? What do you gain from this?"
"Observation," she said simply. "And maybe a bit of fun."
Her tone shifted slightly, almost sympathetic. "Interrogation might get us nowhere, after all. You seem loyal. But I do enjoy watching how loyalty looks when it's painted with blood."
Mudhand's eyes burned with fury. "And what do we get from this, bitch?"
Myrith smiled faintly, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "When you win, if you win, you'll be imprisoned instead of executed."
The goblins stirred uneasily, some glancing toward their leader for direction.
Mudhand growled lowly but lifted his chin. "Fine. You want blood? You'll have it. We'll take your offer."
"Good," Myrith said sweetly, turning to the knights. "Let's make this interesting. You—" she pointed at one of them, "—show our guests the difference between strength and delusion."
The chosen knight bowed low. "As you command, Lady Myrith."
He stepped forward, his black armor gleaming. His name was Rauk, his gauntlets crackled with magnetic energy as he floated down to the arena floor.
Myrith's voice rang out, "Now, goblin. Choose your champion."
Mudhand sneered and pointed to one of his larger soldiers, a hulking brute with jagged tusks, crude runes carved across his chest, and a scar over his eye. "Grarsh! Show them how a true son of Gnarlak fights!"
Grarsh roared, his body swelling as he slammed a fist against his chest. His veins glowed faint green as enchantments activated.
"GRAAAGHH!! I'll crush you, metal man!"
The goblins cheered while the unreadable Esper Knights, said nothing.
Myrith raised her hand. "Begin."
---
Grarsh charged with surprising speed, his feet cracking the marble beneath him. With one arm, he swung a crude greatsword wreathed in crimson flame.
Rauk didn't move.
The blade came down with a roar, and stopped an inch before Rauk's helmet.
The goblin blinked. His arms trembled. The sword didn't budge.
Rauk looked down calmly, voice deep and even. "Poor form."
Then, without lifting a finger, he flung the goblin backward with invisible force. Grarsh crashed into the arena wall, the impact shattering stone.
The goblin roared and leapt again, his muscles bulging, his blade spinning in fury. Fire magic burst from his hands as he screamed, "DIE!"
Rauk caught the flames midair. The inferno froze in front of him like a frozen sculpture. He tilted his head, examining it with curiosity, then clenched his fist. The fire imploded, forming a dense sphere that shot back into Grarsh's chest.
The goblin's body flew across the arena once more, smoking.
Mudhand gritted his teeth. "Grarsh, get up! Kill him!"
The goblin staggered upright, spitting blood. His eyes went bloodshot. "I'm not… done!"
He raised his hands again, chanting an ancient goblin war hymn. The runes across his chest flared violently, filling the air with raw mana. His blade shimmered with molten red, the metal bending as though alive.
Then he dashed forward again, faster, stronger.
Rauk raised one arm, and a shimmering field enveloped him.
When Grarsh's strike landed, the sound was deafening.
BOOM.
The entire colosseum shook. Shockwaves rippled across the barrier walls.
For a brief second, smoke filled the arena.
Mudhand smirked. "Ha! That's what happens when—"
The smoke cleared.
Rauk was still standing in the same spot. His armor wasn't even scratched.
Grarsh's sword? Shattered into fragments.
The goblin looked down in disbelief. His arm was trembling violently, blood pouring from his wrist.
Rauk stepped forward. "You rely on noise to measure strength. Allow me to show you silence."
He raised his hand slowly. The goblin froze, suspended midair, limbs flailing. Rauk's eyes glowed faint blue behind his visor.
The goblin screamed as invisible pressure crushed him, bones snapping, armor creaking.
Then, Rauk's gauntlet flared. The goblin slammed into the floor with enough force to crack it, bounced once, then hung limp in the air again.
Rauk didn't stop.
He dragged the goblin through the air like a puppet, smashing him repeatedly into walls, floors, and pillars. Each impact sent shockwaves that shook the floating platforms above.
By the time he let go, Grarsh's body was a broken heap. One of his arms was twisted completely backward. His breathing was shallow.
But he still lived, barely.
Rauk looked at him with the dispassionate calm of a judge. "Still alive."
He clenched his fist again.
The goblin's head burst like a crushed fruit.
The body slumped to the floor, lifeless.
A heavy silence filled the arena. Even the most battle-hardened goblins took a step back, their bravado gone.
Myrith's voice broke the silence, casual and bright. "Well done, Rauk. I do appreciate efficiency."
Rauk bowed once, his voice calm. "The specimen was weak. Their combat methodology is… crude."
Myrith laughed. "Yes, I noticed."
She turned back to Mudhand, her silver eyes gleaming with amusement. "I wanted to learn how your warriors fight. I think I've learned enough from this one. So, let's raise the stakes."
Mudhand clenched his fists, his body trembling with barely restrained rage. "You dare toy with us like beasts in a pit?! You mock the blood of the Gnarlak Kingdom?!"
"Oh, I do more than mock," Myrith said cheerfully. "I test. And since your 'champion' fell too quickly… let's make things more entertaining."
She raised her halberd. The weapon floated upward, spinning slowly in the air.
"Five of you," she said, her smile widening. "Five goblins against one Esper Knight. Surely that sounds fairer?"
Mudhand's jaw tightened. "You—"
"Consider it charity," Myrith interrupted, her tone dripping with playful cruelty. "I'll even let you pick them yourself."
The goblins murmured in disbelief.
Mudhand's eyes blazed. "You insult us and call it fairness! You think we fear your mind tricks?!"
Myrith's grin only grew wider.
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper that still carried across the psychic air. "Choose your five, little warlord. The game begins again soon."
Mudhand's knuckles cracked as he turned toward his remaining troops. His voice, though filled with rage, trembled with desperation.
"Fine," he spat. "Fine! You want blood? You'll have it! But when the Gnarlak hear of this, when our armies march—"
Myrith laughed softly. "Oh, I do hope they come. My lord will be delighted."
The telekinetic energy pulsed again, the arena floor shifting like living stone, preparing for the next round. The remaining goblins huddled together, glaring at their captors.
Above them, the Esper Knights watched in silence, statues of discipline and dominance.
Myrith spread her arms dramatically, her voice ringing through the psychic air.
"Round two," she announced. "Five challengers versus one knight. Let's see if numbers can buy you dignity."
Her silver hair flowed behind her as she smiled down at Mudhand, eyes glinting with mockery.
Mudhand's teeth gnashed. His claws dug into his palms until they bled.
The world had just shifted, and for the first time, the proud goblin warlord understood what fear truly felt like.