The warm scent of scrambled eggs and bratwurst drifted lazily through the air, mingling with the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Yuga sat up in bed, his back resting against the carved wooden headboard, the heavy quilt draped loosely over his lap. His body still felt the dull ache from days past, the soreness of his muscles a reminder of his defeat. But all that seemed distant now, his focus entirely on the man sitting just a few feet away.
Tomoki.
The man with fiery red hair and piercing crimson eyes lounged casually in the chair, his presence both commanding and unnervingly calm. Yuga couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy gnawing at him, the frustration of knowing that this was a person he couldn't defeat. It was humbling, even humiliating, and Yuga's chest tightened with the weight of that realization.
"So, Yuga, is it?" Tomoki's voice finally broke the silence, his tone smooth and unhurried, as if the conversation was of little consequence to him. He set aside the book he'd been reading, sliding it effortlessly into one of the many shelves that lined the walls. The room was far more opulent than any other Yuga had seen in the inn, with its grand bookshelves, the large, plush bed he now occupied, and the soft golden light cast by the fireplace. It felt more like a scholar's study than a room for a traveler, the kind of place where knowledge and power were well acquainted.
"Linda mentioned you were in the capital for a bit," Tomoki continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, though his tone remained casual. "And I hear you've been sniffing around the Paladins' Guild."
Yuga shifted in the bed, feeling the weight of Tomoki's gaze on him. His mind raced, piecing together what little he knew of the man. The guild master. The one who held all the cards.
Tomoki chuckled softly, a sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let me ask you something—do you know what it means to be a Paladin? What does it mean to be part of the guild?"
His voice sharpened, the weight of the question sinking into the space between them. "I didn't create this guild just to give people a place to swing swords and feel important. I built it to give the common folk a voice—a chance to shape this empire's future. The 'Six Hands,' the ones who truly run things, they make the decisions. I'm just their sword, carrying out their will."
The firelight flickered across Tomoki's face, casting long shadows that made his expression seem even more unreadable. Yuga's grip tightened on the quilt, his frustration simmering beneath his composed exterior. This was no mere conversation—this was a test, one he hadn't been prepared for.
"And since you've already caused a stir in both my inn and my guild house," Tomoki said, his tone turning cold and businesslike, "let's consider this your first trial. You've been unconscious for two days, but there's no time to waste. Today, at the Colosseum of Faith, there's an assessment for new adventurers. Beat your opponent there, and then we'll talk about you joining our little family."
Tomoki stood, his movements fluid and deliberate, before tossing a large white shirt onto the bed. "Get dressed. I'll be waiting outside."
Yuga watched him leave, the soft click of the door echoing in the room. The challenge hung in the air, with implication, and Yuga felt the weight of it settle heavily on his shoulders.
Yuga rose slowly from the bed, the quilt slipping off his body and falling into a heap on the floor. His legs felt weak beneath him, the oversized pants hanging awkwardly from his waist, dragging with every step. As he moved toward the door, his balance gave way, and he stumbled, falling hard onto the floorboards. His forehead struck the ground with a dull thud, sending a sharp pain rippling through his skull. He winced, hands pressing to his head as he tried to push himself up, disoriented by the jarring impact.
Breathing deeply, Yuga stood again, more cautiously this time, swaying as he reached for the goggles lying on the desk. His fingers trembled as he slid them over his head, their familiar weight offering a momentary comfort. He braced himself on the chair, slipping his feet into the worn boots, and pulled the oversized white shirt over his torso. The motions were mechanical, his mind elsewhere as his gaze caught on the mirror across the room.
He froze in place.
The reflection that greeted him felt foreign, the sight of himself unsettling in a way he couldn't explain. Bruises, deep and dark, marred his skin, and bandages hung loosely around his arms. His eyes, bright but clouded with exhaustion, stared back at him with a hollow look. Something was wrong, and the sensation clawed at the back of his mind.
Without thinking, Yuga's fist shot forward, shattering the mirror in an instant. The glass exploded in a spray of shards, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room. His knuckles split open, blood dripping down his hand and staining the fractured surface. But the pain barely registered as his heart began to race.
Something flickered in the broken glass—a figure, barely discernible. A woman. Her pale face emerged in the reflection, eyes obscured by a torn, dirtied blindfold. Her hair, dark and tangled, clung to her sickly skin, her lips parted as if about to speak. There was something wrong about her, something that made Yuga's breath catch in his throat. Her presence was impossible, yet there she was, staring back at him through the jagged edges of the mirror.
His heart pounded louder, faster, each beat slamming against his ribs as the woman lingered in the broken reflection. And then, just as suddenly as she appeared, she vanished, leaving only his bloodstained hand in the shattered glass.
A voice whispered, faint and cold, curling around his ear.
"You should've stayed asleep."
Yuga's breath hitched, his entire body seizing up as fear gripped him like a vice. His hands flew to his ears, desperate to block out the sound, but it was no use. His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out every other thought. The walls of the room seemed to close in, pressing down on him, suffocating him in a thick, invisible fog. He could feel the woman's presence still, hovering just out of sight, her cold gaze burning into his skin.
Outside, the world seemed to grow louder, the clatter of carriages and the distant laughter of townspeople swelling into a deafening roar. The noise pressed in on him from every direction, overwhelming his senses. His chest tightened, breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps as his vision blurred and distorted. The walls twisted and stretched, warping into something unrecognizable.
The ground beneath his feet felt like it had disappeared, and Yuga's heart raced faster, hammering in his chest as though it would burst at any moment. His legs gave way again, and he crumpled to the floor, hands still clasped over his ears as his mind spiraled deeper into panic. His world was closing in, the edges of his vision darkening, until all that remained was the sound of his own heartbeat, impossibly loud, drowning everything else out.
And then—darkness.
When Yuga's senses returned, he was on his knees, scrubbing the floor with a rag. The bucket beside him was filled with murky water, and his hands moved on their own, rubbing the floorboards in slow, mechanical motions. His mind felt distant, trapped in a fog, the events before slipping through his memory like water through a sieve. He couldn't recall how he ended up there or why he was cleaning, but the lingering panic still clung to him, like a shadow he couldn't shake.
"Yuga!" A voice called from downstairs, sharp but familiar. Linda, the innkeeper. "Breakfast is ready, and Master Tomoki's growing impatient."
The words barely registered, the dull ache in Yuga's knuckles grounding him back into the present. He sat back on his heels, wiping the sweat from his brow, his breath still shaky. The faint sound of laughter and chatter drifted through the windows, but it felt far away, almost unreal.
Yuga glanced at the broken mirror, the blood streaked across its surface, and the image of the blindfolded woman still lingered in his mind, haunting him with a silent gaze.
Yuga took a deep breath, steadying himself as he inhaled the crisp morning air, then exhaled slowly as he opened the door and stepped out of his room. He descended the two flights of stairs, each step carrying the faint echo of his footsteps, until he entered the bustling dining hall. A wave of warmth enveloped him, and the rich aroma of sizzling sausages and freshly baked bread filled the air. The sound of laughter and lively conversation greeted him as over twenty patrons filled the long wooden tables, enjoying their breakfast.
His gaze swept across the room until it landed on Linda, the innkeeper. With her brown hair pulled back and her hazel eyes sparkling, she was a familiar sight, always bustling about behind the bar. As soon as she caught sight of him, her face lit up with a bright smile. "Yuga!" she called out, her voice cutting through the clamor of the morning crowd.
She popped up from behind the bar, her enthusiasm contagious, and rushed around to greet him. "I was worried about you! Thought Master Tomoki had done you in for sure!" Her laughter rang like a melody in his ears. "Here, have this!"
Linda handed him a glass of amber liquor and a piece of warm bread, her touch lingering on his arm for a moment as she placed a hand gently on his forehead. "Thank goodness you're alright. You need to hurry, though; you know how he is. He hates being late!"
With a conspiratorial glint in her eye, she continued, "When you come back, I'll make some meat skewers and bring out a big keg of beer to celebrate your enrollment in the guild. Now, go on! Get moving!"
Yuga felt a swell of warmth at her words, a bittersweet mix of gratitude and apprehension swirling within him. He smiled back, feeling a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving her behind. "Thanks, Linda," he said softly, letting the comfort of her presence linger for just a moment longer.
With a reluctant nod, he turned to push open the heavy doors of the inn, the cool morning air rushing to greet him. He stepped outside, taking in the vibrant sounds and sights of the city coming to life. The street was alive with the chatter of townsfolk, the clattering of hooves on cobblestones, and the distant calls of vendors peddling their wares.
As he rounded the corner, Yuga slipped into an alleyway where Tomoki awaited him. The man stood with an air of calm authority, his back turned as he toyed with a small, floating orb that shimmered like dark crimson glass in the morning light. Tomoki seemed lost in thought, his long red hair framing his face, while his crimson eyes gazed into the distance.
Clearing his throat, Yuga stepped forward, breaking the stillness. The orb reacted, twisting into a slender shape before disappearing into Tomoki's shirt, its movement fluid and mesmerizing.
"Time to move," Tomoki said without turning, his voice low and commanding. He pivoted smoothly and began walking deeper into the alley, his steps heavy.
Yuga quickly followed, adrenaline surging as he downed the glass of liquor in one go, the heat spreading through him like fire. He took a bite of the bread, savoring its warmth, but discarded it on the cobblestones as he focused on Tomoki. There was no time for distractions; today was about proving himself. The two traveled through the city of iota, sightseeing and buying food all of which was paid for by Tomoki. The two then stop their adventures at a large line filled with various people of all shapes and sizes.
Women with animal like features two bright glittery long eared silk covered men. A man with the head of a cat. Yuga couldn't help but stare in quiet amazement before taking a bite from the stick skewered meat in his hand. He then pulled the cork from a bottle and began drinking heavily from its spout. "You know you're gonna pay me back for all that right?" Tomoki said quietly as he checked the surroundings almost as if he was looking for something.
Yuga would then make a noise of exhaustion as the bottle popped shut again. "Yeah yeah I know. You've said it about ten times already!!" Yuga shouted. He would swing his arms in frustration just before a firm grasp caught his wrist.
"You're in my way, move." A deep gaunt proclaimed to them, indicating the presence of a newcomer. "Who the fuck are you?" Yuga turned around, getting a face full of abdomen and subsequently being bounced backward, falling flat on his ass.
The man who'd been standing there was relatively tall, an entire foot and almost a half taller than the tiny femboy Yuga. His dark skin and wide stature would lead one to initially regard him as a fat ass, although his beefy arms could supposedly ward off such thoughts.
"Nah, why is this little BOY here? I don't think we ordered any prostitutes?"
The towering figure loomed over Yuga, his dreadlocks whipping in the wind as he spoke in a mockingly exaggerated tone, his voice darker and heavier than his skin. Standing at an imposing six foot six, the thug sneered down at the much smaller, wiry figure before him. His chuckle was deep and rumbling as he gestured toward a group of street hooligans lounging nearby.
"Hey, hey, check out this little guy. Think he's been passed around?"
The thugs burst into laughter, their sneers and jeers growing louder as they repeated and amplified the big man's words, feeding off his mockery.
"Once? Nah, twice!"
"Bet it's been way more!"
"Loose as hell, ain't he?"
Yuga's fists clenched at his sides, his stomach churning with each new insult. His blood boiled, the mockery slicing through him like blades. Tomo, standing beside him, chuckled along with the thugs. It was all just a game to him. Yuga, though, had had enough. He took a deep breath, the gravel from the ground crunching beneath his boots as he shifted. He shot a glare at the towering brute who had insulted him and then, in one fluid motion, he launched himself forward.
Yuga sprinted toward the big guy, using the thug's broad chest as leverage. His boots found brief purchase, and he propelled himself upward, attempting to wrap his legs around the man's neck to bring him crashing down. But the big man was faster than Yuga had anticipated. With a crushing grip, the thug caught Yuga by the ankle and slammed him down into the pavement with enough force to crack the concrete beneath them. The ground dented, responding to the brutal impact as Yuga's body hit the ground with a sickening thud.
The brute looked down at Yuga, his face twisting into a cruel grin. "You'd better learn some respect for your elders, boy," he growled, his voice filled with contempt.
As he turned, the rhythmic clattering of his beaded dreadlocks echoed in the air, fading as he sauntered toward the nearby tournament ring. Yuga lay there, the taste of blood sharp on his tongue, but his anger was sharper. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, shaking off the pain coursing through his limbs.
With a low grunt of frustration, Yuga aimed a punch at his companion, Tomoki, striking him square in the chest. His fist collided with Tomoki's ribs, the solid impact echoing through his knuckles.
But Tomo didn't flinch. He stood there, unmoved, not even a flicker of pain crossing his face. His grin remained firmly in place, amused, as if Yuga's hit had been little more than a tap. Without a word, Tomoki turned his gaze toward the colosseum, his expression never wavering as the dark-skinned giant disappeared into the massive entrance ahead.
The sun hung high in the sky, unyielding in its brightness, casting harsh, unrelenting light across the colosseum. Its heat soaked into the stone walls, intensifying the already stifling air inside, leaving little room for comfort or reprieve. The shadows were minimal, and the entire structure seemed to shimmer under the weight of the noon sun. Outside, where the crowd once bustled, the streets had begun to empty, thinning as the majority of spectators found their seats inside, eager for the spectacle that awaited.
Though the outside world was growing quieter, inside the colosseum, the roar of the crowd surged with a feverish intensity. The air vibrated with the thunderous cries of spectators, each shout merging with the next, creating a continuous wave of sound that seemed to pulse through the stone. It was a raw, primal noise, one that seemed to crawl beneath the skin, unsettling in its fervor. The sound wasn't just a background hum—it was a living, breathing force, shaking the foundations of the colosseum, feeding off the bloodlust and anticipation. As Yuga and Tomo walked through the dim, narrow corridors, the distant roars followed them, growing louder with every step, until the very air seemed to tremble around them.
The heat from the noon sun lingered even here, beneath the stone arches and darkened halls, but it was joined by the weight of something far more oppressive. Sweat trickled down Yuga's spine, but it wasn't just the heat that tightened his muscles. Each step seemed heavier than the last, the walls closing in, making the passage feel more like a tunnel leading to a grim fate. The unmistakable sounds of violence—flesh smacking against flesh, bones splintering under pressure—filtered through the thick stone walls, faint but persistent. The echoes carried with them the unmistakable sense of struggle and brutality, each a reminder of what awaited.
Their path was narrow, twisting deeper into the labyrinth of corridors beneath the arena. The sunlight, which had bathed the outer edges of the colosseum, now only flickered faintly behind them, swallowed by shadows. The stone beneath their feet was uneven, worn smooth in some places by the passage of countless warriors, jagged in others where time had not been kind. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and something far older—centuries of violence seemed to have seeped into the very walls.
As they approached the final stretch of the corridor, the noise from the arena became more than just background noise. It was an overwhelming wave of sound that slammed into Yuga, rattling his bones with its intensity. The crowd beyond the walls was no longer just a distant mass—they were a presence, their bloodthirsty energy palpable even from here. The colosseum seemed to pulse with it, every cheer and roar like a drumbeat urging him closer to the inevitable.
Tomo came to a sudden halt, his broad shoulders blocking Yuga's path for a moment. Turning, he grinned—more a flash of teeth than anything else. His expression held a mixture of amusement and dark humor, a veteran's look of someone who knew what awaited beyond those walls. With a swift, hard clap to Yuga's back, Tomo muttered, "Watch yourself."
His words were simple, but they carried the weight of finality, sinking into Yuga like a lead weight. And then, just as quickly, Tomo was gone, his figure swallowed by a side passage, leaving Yuga standing alone in the shadowed corridor.
The door ahead of him creaked as he pushed it open, the sound sharp in the otherwise oppressive quiet. The chamber he entered was dimly lit, torches lining the walls, their flickering flames casting erratic, jagged shadows that danced across the rough stone. The air here was even heavier, thick with the scent of old blood and smoke, and the distant clamor of the crowd filtered through like a distorted echo. The room was small, almost claustrophobic, and the walls seemed to close in the longer Yuga stood there.
The light from the torches was weak, casting long shadows that twisted and contorted, as if the room itself was alive, shifting in response to the distant violence beyond its walls. The silence here was punctuated by the faint, sickening sounds of battle outside—the wet thud of fists connecting with flesh, the crunch of bones breaking under pressure, and the sharp, animalistic cries of warriors caught in the heat of combat. The sounds weren't clear, but they were unmistakable, seeping into the room like ghosts of battles past.
In the dim light, Yuga stretched, the movement causing his joints to pop and crack with a satisfying release. His body, though tense with anticipation, seemed to loosen, preparing for the brutality to come. His gaze swept over the iron-barred cells that lined the far wall, each one leading to an exit into the arena. From one of the cells, a small voice cut through the quiet, trembling and afraid.
"What's it gonna be like up there?" the voice asked, barely above a whisper. It belonged to a boy, his small frame visible through the rusted bars, his fear evident.
Yuga exhaled, leaning against the cool stone, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames of the torches. The boy's question hung in the air, a reminder of the unknown that lay ahead.
"No clue," Yuga answered, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming beneath his skin. "But I can tell you this—anyone who steps out there is here for a reason. You fight like your life depends on it. That's the only way to survive. Make the best of what you've got, even if it's a shit situation."
There was a pause, the boy's quiet sobs barely audible over the distant roar of the crowd. His voice, when it came again, was small, almost swallowed by the oppressive atmosphere of the room.
"Thank you... I hope you live a long and happy life…"
Yuga didn't respond, the words hanging in the air as the door at the far end of the chamber groaned open. A scarred man stepped forward, his face a patchwork of old burns and wounds, his expression hard and indifferent. Without a word, he grabbed Yuga by the arm, dragging him toward the hallway. The man's grip was rough, his movements unrelenting, as Yuga stumbled over the uneven stone beneath his feet.
As they moved, the walls seemed to grow darker, narrower. The air became thicker with every step, each breath tinged with the metallic scent of blood. Claw marks and deep gouges marred the stone, remnants of past battles that had been fought and lost in these halls. The stains of old blood painted the walls, each one a reminder of the violence that had taken place here.
The sound of chains scraping against stone echoed through the corridor as they neared the arena, the noise almost drowned out by the deafening roar of the crowd. The anticipation in the air was suffocating, a visceral force that pressed down on Yuga's chest, making it hard to breathe. The corridor seemed to close in around him, growing more decrepit with each step.
"You're up, newbie," a deep, gravelly voice growled behind Yuga, the words sending a shiver down his spine.
The gates ahead creaked open with agonizing slowness, revealing the blinding light of the arena beyond. The midday sun, unforgiving and relentless, poured into the corridor, momentarily blinding Yuga as the roar of the crowd surged to new heights. The blood-soaked sands awaited, and there was no turning back now.