When the previous battle came to an end
Sloth along with Envy left the field, the coliseum hung suspended in a thick, almost tangible expectation, as if the air itself were holding its breath.
It wasn't an empty silence, but one loaded with anticipation, muffled murmurs and gazes fixed on the arena still marked by the remnants of the previous fight.
For a few seconds nothing happened.
The dust settled slowly.
The echoes of the past battle still seemed to vibrate in the circular walls of the coliseum, like memories that refused to disappear.
Some spectators leaned forward, others clenched their fists without realizing it. No one spoke.
Then, two new presences walked toward the arena.
Gorgos and Magnus.
The contrast was immediate, almost violent to the eye.
The man with the magical megaphone barely had time to react.
He raised the artifact with both hands, his amplified voice resounding like a ceremonial thunder that broke the spell of silence.
—Ladies and gentlemen! We begin the next match!
He didn't need to say more.
The crowd was already awake.
Both were already there, standing, with their weapons—and their sins—exposed without any shame, without masks, without intention of hiding what they were.
Gorgos advanced first.
He did it with an almost insulting calm, carefree, as if this weren't a battle but a pause before eating.
His posture was relaxed, shoulders loose, step heavy but sure.
In his hand he held a piece of still-hot meat, which he bit into with absolute calm.
The grease shone on his fingers and dripped slowly onto the sand.
There was no hurry in him.
While he swallowed, the space behind his back began to deform.
At first it was barely a distortion, as if the air were melting. Then, reality opened.
A dimensional mouth appeared slowly.
It didn't open suddenly. It didn't roar. It didn't scream.
It manifested like a glitch in the world.
Transparent fangs, long and sharp like living crystal, emerged one by one, reflecting the coliseum's light in impossible ways.
A tongue of dark smoke slid between them, moving restlessly, tasting the air, recognizing the existence around it.
The creature didn't need sounds to intimidate.
Its mere presence promised disappearance.
Everything seemed destined to be devoured: the sand, the residual magic, even the spectators' fear.
Magnus, in absolute contrast, didn't touch the ground.
She floated.
A crown of pure gold, encrusted with burning red gems, levitated above her head, spinning slowly like a sovereign star marking its own orbit.
Each turn emitted a faint glow, as if the object were alive, aware of its bearer.
Her angelic wings extended on both sides, white and luminous, holding her in the air with imposing elegance.
Each feather seemed carved by divine craftsmen. Her shadow projected onto the sand like the silhouette of a queen who needed no throne.
There were no words.
No warnings.
No countdown.
The battle began without permission.
Gorgos simply stretched his arm.
He didn't shout. He didn't change his expression. He showed no emotion at all.
And the enormous mouth launched toward Magnus with brutal speed, the space deforming in its path, ready to swallow her entire body, wings and crown included.
But Magnus reacted instantly.
—This is really interesting… —she said, smiling with genuine curiosity—, but it's also fun. Arcane Empire!
The crown spun violently.
The air tore.
Around her, seven magical circles unfolded in the air, each one a different color, pulsing with ancient and absolute power.
They weren't simple spells: they were primordial symbols, formulas that had survived entire empires.
The space vibrated as the symbols aligned.
—Time to make boom.
The circles exploded in unison.
Water, light, fire, wind, earth, lightning and darkness rushed together, fusing into an impossible storm, an elemental deluge that fell upon Gorgos with a force capable of erasing entire cities from the map.
The crowd screamed.
For the first time, Gorgos stopped chewing.
His eyes narrowed with genuine interest.
—I didn't think you had that kind of power… —he admitted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—. But you know something: my attacks aren't affected by magic. And you'll be the proof.
Devour existence!
The dimensional mouth obeyed.
It opened wider than seemed possible.
Much wider.
And it began to devour.
It didn't block the magic.
It didn't resist it.
It ate it.
The elemental attacks disappeared inside its fangs, one after another, as if they had never been cast.
The fire didn't burn. The light didn't blind. The darkness didn't consume.
Everything was reduced to nothing.
—Sovereign Ascension —Magnus said, without retreating a single step.
Her aura intensified.
The magical circles multiplied, doubling and then tripling the number of attacks.
The magic flooded the field, saturating the air, forcing the mouth to grow even larger to absorb it all.
The creature expanded.
The pride did too.
Magnus descended to the ground gently, her wings partially folding. Her boots touched the sand without raising dust, as if even the ground knew who it was stepping on.
Both began to advance toward each other, step by step, like two opposite concepts destined to clash: infinite hunger against absolute pride.
With a slight movement of his fingers, Gorgos ordered the final attack.
The mouth shot toward Magnus.
But she smiled.
And in a blink, she disappeared from her position.
She appeared at Gorgos's side, sliding out of his reach with perfect precision, and attacked with a knife she pulled from her sleeve, its blade shining with lethal intent.
—Supremacy of the White King.
A golden light enveloped her body completely, an absolute protection against magical and physical attacks.
It was a shield, but also a statement.
Gorgos reacted on instinct, lunging at her with bare fists, his body charged with brutal force that made the sand tremble.
Face to face.
The knife brushed the air.
Gorgos dodged it with an impossible maneuver, rolling across the arena sand with an agility no one expected from someone like him.
The crowd erupted in surprise.
Magnus didn't lose rhythm.
She threw the knife with perfect precision.
But the dimensional mouth interposed itself, opening just in time to swallow the weapon, leaving it disappear without a trace.
Silence fell.
Gorgos stood up slowly, shaking the dust from the sand. Then, he laughed.
—That was a good move, I admit it, Magnus… woman of pride.
But I'm hungry. Really hungry.
He raised both hands to the sky.
—And this is taking too long. So… I surrender.
The coliseum went mute.
—…What? —Magnus asked, incredulous.
—I got bored —he replied with a huge smile—. And besides, I wouldn't be good leading a team. Better pass.
He turned around and began walking toward the exit.
Magnus watched him for a few seconds. Then, she sighed.
—Ah… you're right —she said—. You're a man who does what he wants.
I surrender too. I wanted to win, yes, but I'm not good at managing a team either.
Her words fell like lightning.
Both had given up.
The round ended without a winner.
And the coliseum, once again, understood that among sins… winning isn't always the goal.