The Demon Against The Heavens - 195 Sacrificial Lambs
“And here are the future winners of the clash!” Star yelled at the crowd, sending it into raptures. With his hand, he pointed at the tunnel where Medusa’s team was. The gate that separated them from the arena opened and the Team of the Keepers of the Firmament entered the Colosseum.
The crowd’s eyes followed to the shadows that were beginning to be cast on the arena sandy ground.
The first figure made its entrance and the audience exploded.
“ME-DU-SA-ME-DU-SA.”
Many on the stands looked at the direct descendant of the Sect of the Worthy with dreamy eyes, almost too ashamed to imagine her in their bedsheets. Medusa was one of the most desired women in all Orma and one of the strongest, but her fame would have spread to the end of the world if not for two unexpected rivals: Circe and Pseudonym.
If not for their presence, Medusa would have been Orma’s most famous warrior. Not even Comodo could have rivalled her reputation. That woman was the most precious gem in the Sect of the Worthy, the future Aure hoped for his Sect.
The Sect of the Worthy had been really unlucky. If Medusa was strong, Circe was a tiger with wings.
And Pseudonym had no rivals.
Medusa looked ahead and walked confidently, wearing a violet tunic. A terrifying light shone in her green eyes. There were two sharp Chakrams at her waist, and their flashes sent myriads of reflections onto the sand.
Arrived at the centre of the arena, alone, she seemed able to bear all the pressure of the clash alone without problems.
Normally no presentations were prepared for teams fighting in the arena. However, given the special occasion, the Coliseum’s big guys had decided to try and make money out of it as much as possible.
“Where the fuck is Helial?” Swore Snowflake, beginning to get nervous.
The cat had just sensed Medusa’s Aura. It seemed that the champion of the Sect of the Worthy had reached the Late stage of the Third Phase.
This time, it wouldn’t be so easy to win.
“I don’t know,” said Lumia, continuing to keep her eyes fixed onto the arena. “I almost hope he won’t come. I’d like to take care of that bitch myself.”
Frankenstein continued to tinker with his equipment, while Lulu looked at him and prepared her Skills.
Vlad looked at the corridor ceiling, trying to ignore the words of that mad team in which he had found himself, thanks to his cousin’s meddling.
After Medusa, four distinct figures made their way into the arena.
The first warrior who stopped behind Medusa was a young man with a heroic and majestic bearing, who looked proudly at the crowd, while waving his hand to greet them. The women in the stands watched him with dreamy eyes.
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Aiako, the strongest after Medusa in the team.
A little farther on, a girl with huge glasses and several tools on her stopped at his side.
“Did you get all your toys today?” Laughed Aiako.
Margherita looked at him with a hint of contempt: “Ignorant swine.”
“Say that again,” said Aiako, smiling wickedly.
“You bastard, ignorant swine,” Margherita shrugged.
Aiako was about to move forward, when he felt a feeling of imminent death and suddenly dodged a dart that came from nowhere.
“Stop it.”
The two stopped immediately. Medusa had just given the first order.
Behind Aiako and Margherita, Atlanta and Ceni arrived.
Atlanta was an expert with the Bow. It was even said that she was the best archer of her generation. Her hawk-like eyes squared the arena as he stroked his weapon: “How many preys are there?”
Ceni, the most discreet of the team, was a priestess and took care of support and Healing. Her role, albeit not in the limelight, was among the most important, if not the most important, of the team. A team that can’t heal won’t last long in battle.
In the stands that hosted the big shots of Orma there was discussion of how the clash would go and everyone spoke their mind. Aure boasted the formation of Medusa’s team with great ease, assuming that they would win. Not even for a second had he been touched by the idea that Medusa could lose; but, if such an event had happened, it would irreparably shake the whole Sect.
“And your boy? Is he ready to face his opponents?” Big asked Cesar, looking at the rim of his goblet full of wine.
“I haven’t seen him yet,” Cesar commented, frowning.
“What do you mean you haven’t seen him?” Guiccia laughed, but the King didn’t reply.
“You know when you wash yourself, rarely as it seems, and you can’t see your own dick because of all your fat?” Big laughed, almost spilling his glass.
“What? Say that again!” Yelled Guiccia furiously.
“Your-dick-hidden-in-your-fat,” said Big.
Just as Guiccia was about to attack the leader of the Guild of Life and Death, a terrifying Aura enveloped them and left them breathless.
“That’s enough, please,” said Aure, looking crookedly at both of them, as a father would look at his children during a quarrel.
“I think our bold young man will win,” Nelia laughed.
Regardless of the fact that they were witnessing a death match, the big shots of Orma were betting on the life of the city young promises. Having reached a certain level, and after having been alive for centuries, the lives of young people, however important, began to become a topic fit for a formal lunch.
Everyone on that stage seemed to be quite relaxed, but Cesar’s brows were furrowed.
Nelia noticed it and telepathically asked her husband, “Where’s the boy?”
Cesar seemed to awaken from abyssal thoughts and replied: “I don’t perceive his Aura anywhere; he seems to have disappeared into thin air since he entered the Octagonal Room.”
After reaching Immortality, telepathic communications could be made with embarrassing ease. It would have been impossible for anyone to notice the conversation between Cesar and Nelia, unless they wanted to make it public.
“Didn’t you go in to see if at least he’s still alive?” Nelia asked, more and more worried.
Cesar swallowed a mouthful of wine. “I have tried several times, but something has always prevented me from entering. Last time, before coming here, I waited a couple of hours, but every time I tried to collect Mana to take him away from that place a sixth sense told me that it would have been better not to do it. I think the recoil would have killed me.”
Nelia remained silent, with a dark expression on her face. What the hell was really in that room, if even her husband, Orma’s strongest warrior, hadn’t been able to enter?
Was it really something so terrifying?
Given the circumstances, the Queen thought that there had been no escape for Helial. However, she strongly hoped that he was safe and that in a moment he would appear in the arena together with his companions. Although the boy had recently arrived in Orma, the Queen had seen so much pain and sweetness in that young man. Furthermore, Helial could have been a link between the Goblin world and that of the Humans, a young talent that would thrive within the walls of Orma. Her instinct made her desire to protect him.
Husband and wife exchanged glances and could not help but shake their heads slightly.
Helial’s companions seemed very worried, too. None of them knew what had become of the young man.
Where the hell was Helial?
“AND NOW, WELCOME THE SACRIFICAL LAMBS, THE TRISTIA TEAM!” Yelled Star, as the gate in front of Helial’s team slowly opened.
Being a commentator, Star’s only duty was to present and comment the match. At the moment, a levitating platform kept him above the arena. In this way, he would have been able to comment without interfering in the fighting.
As for the clashes between fighters at the Sixth Phase or above, and therefore able to fly, there was a special stand for the commentator, which however was seldom used, because such clashes were quite rare.
Besides, above the Sixth Phase there were only the Clans’ bigwigs. The death of any of them could have created unpleasant internal feuds in Orma.
However, the brilliance of the new generations had made up for this lack of the Colosseum. A clash between Circe and Pseudonym would have attracted many more people than a clash between any two fighters at the Sixth or Seventh Phase.
As the gate opened before them, Vlad looked at the enemies and yawned. “They’re nothing special.”
Medusa, Aiako, Margherita, Atlanta, Ceri.
The enemy formation was truly incredible. Aiako and Margherita were only one step below Medusa. And anyway, they were all at the Intermediate stage of the Third Phase, while Medusa had reached the Late stage.
“They’re nothing special,” repeated Lulu, but her voice was trembling.