A month later, the whole Protectors Circle was gathered outside of Lakefield with an immense crowd of people eager to prove their worth to Finem and its king. For the occasion, the king had dedicated a previously empty area to be the future site of the tournament.

In only two months, the builders hadn't lazed at all, and close to a whole village had been erected from nothing. Most of the buildings were for eating and warming up, while there was only one for fighting. But the massive arena occupied at least half the area of the whole village. It was made for spectating huge fights with all the necessary rows of seats to host at least tens of thousands of people.

For the first day of the tournament, all the fighters had been asked to gather outside the arena while the crowd was slowly entering inside.

“Attention please!” A clerk yelled to get himself heard above the numerous conversations between the fighters.

The Protectors Circle alone had sent close to three hundred people, and although it was the biggest competitor, there were plenty others. With a two-months notice, many had traveled to Lakefield from any corners of Finem for the occasion, and dozens of bodyguard centers, adventurer guilds and rogue warriors were willing to demonstrate their talents.

After more yells and a few more clerks coming to the rescue, they managed to bring the six-thousand warriors to silence.

“The tournament will be held during five days, but there is no need to explain everything right now as most of you won’t be selected for the next rounds. These explanations will come later. As for today, it will be pretty straightforward. By rounds of a thousand you’ll fight among yourself until nine trios stand. Those nine trios will have won their ticket for the main event, and everyone else will be eliminated.”

Murmurs of discontent became audible in the crowd. Some had traveled for two weeks to come here, but only twenty-seven people out of a thousand would get to the next stage? It was almost impossible to get selected! The clerk quickly continued before it could get out of control.

“For those eliminated, there will be plenty of smaller side-tournaments during the whole duration of the main tournament. You’ll be able to claim some rewards and show your worth there as well, so don’t worry.”

The tension eased in the crowd, and the clerk visibly relaxed too as he pursued his speech.

“As for the rules of the arena fight, allow me to introduce you to our special leather armors.”

He gestured to the side and two warriors joined him, each with a sword in hand and a deep red leather armor.

“For this fight, and this fight only, you’ll have to use our own equipment. It has been enchanted so that it can keep track of who’s considered out and who’s not. With a thousand people in the arena it will be too hard to keep track of blood-on-the-ground rule. So we came up with this.” The clerk gestured to the two warriors. “Please, demonstrate.”

One of the warriors swiped at the other such that his sword cut the leather armor. Immediately, the armor ignited with blue flames. The warrior whose armor was burning didn’t seem to be hurt by the flames, but he waved to chase the deep white smoke that had appeared. A second later, the flames extinguished, and as the smoke cleared, the deep red armor revealed to have turned completely black.

“If your armor ignites, it means you’ve been hit and you’re out of the fight. As long as one warrior of your trio still stands, your trio is still considered in the fight, and you’ll be able to join back the fighting tomorrow normally if you manage to reach the last nine places. You can notice that the armor only covers your chest, and that’s the only area that will trigger the flames. You’re free to attack your opponent’s arms and legs, but it will not give you a direct elimination.”

The clerk drew a deep breath before he continued his explanations at the top of his lungs so that each person in the crowd could hear him clearly..

“We can’t guarantee the equipment functionality when too close to a sorcerer, so every team with a sorcerer will get a direct pass for tomorrow’s fight. I’ve been informed that there are ten such teams, and that’s why there will be fifty-four spots left to grab in the arena fights. Nine for each of the six battles.”

A murmur of discontent started to grow within the crowd but the clerk reacted immediately.

“If anyone believes this rule isn’t fair, step forward and face a sorcerer on your own. If you can win, then you can take his place.”

Instantly, the crowd grew so silent one could hear a pin drop. The clerk waited for a few more seconds before he resumed his speech.

“Good. The first fight will start soon, and I’ll now call your trio’s number that we gave you when you registered for the tournament. Each trio called will come forward to grab their leather armor and move directly into the arena. Once all the trios are there, the king will announce the start of the fight. Now let’s do this quickly, because we have only one day and six fights to do!”

The clerk then blurted out numbers after numbers, and everyone was listening attentively to his words. Since all the Protectors had registered at the same time, Mahon feared they would all be paired together in the same arena fight, but fortunately the clerks had randomized the selection, and the numbers called ranged from one to close to two thousand.

“336!”

The clerk called, and Mahon exchanged a look with Jorik and Myrthil that stood to his sides.

“Seems we’re in for the first round.” He said.

Jorik nodded while Myrthil flashed an eager smile. Together, they walked through the crowd until they reached the fighter gate of the arena.

“Number?” A clerk asked them.

“336.” Mahon answered, and the man rummaged through a pile of papers until he found three papers with the number 336 on it.

“Take that and move to the next stand for the armors.” He said to them, but his eyes were already on the next group after them. “Number?”

They walked forward and ten meters after, a group of clerks and dozens of assistants swarmed around warriors while giving them their armors depending on their size. In a few precise gestures, they were able to equip the armors and tighten them properly. Mahon’s group only waited for a minute before they were also equipped with the special leather armors.

Their tag number had been placed in a special pocket on their chest so everyone would know to which trio they belonged. They then walked forward and entered the arena under the fervent clamor of the crowd.

The inside of the arena was a circle with a diameter of at least a hundred meters, and even though there were close to four hundred warriors already inside, it felt almost empty. On the sides, rows after rows of eager spectators were clapping their hands and yelling words of encouragement.

One part of the spectator area was elevated further than the rest, and the armories of Finem on the balconies clearly indicated the presence of the king. But from the distance, they couldn’t see him clearly yet.

Mahon brought back his attention to the other persons in the arena as it was quickly getting filled with more and more warriors. The fight would start in a few minutes only.

“How do you feel?” He asked his teammates.

“Ready.” Myrthil answered with a confident voice.

“Same.” Jorik completed with a more serious voice. “What’s the plan, though? Do we play hide and seek?”

Mahon analyzed the situation for a few seconds before answering. “We’ll see how it goes. The most important thing is to stay together and pay close attention to each other. It will be much easier to survive if we stay grouped. Don’t take any personal initiative. We don’t care about eliminating someone if that’s endangering the whole group. The first objective is to survive, not kill. At least in the beginning. Ok?”

Both nodded to his instructions.

“Should we start moving to the edges then?” Jorik proposed.

“Yes. Let’s go.” Mahon quickly agreed.

There were now over seven hundred people inside the arena, and although it wasn’t crowded, they were starting to get close to multiple groups. Many were already moving to different positions in preparation of the incoming battle.

Mahon, Jorik and Myrthil positioned themselves in the edge away from the king’s balcony, because it would be there that people wanting to show off would fight. A few groups with the same idea moved besides them. When they saw their group and their Protectors insignias, some choose to move further away while others went closer instead.

Being a Protector was a double-edged sword in this tournament. On one side, their fame guaranteed that people knew about them and would try to avoid them as much as possible. On the other hand, it was so hard to qualify for the next stage that some people just wanted to get as much reputation as they could. Targeting and eliminating the famous elite bodyguards was a sure way to get oneself known even if they ended not qualified for the next round.

Mahon was paying close attention to the surrounding groups when the massive doors of the arena finally closed. The last groups that entered ran to find a better spot, but most were already occupied by other teams. The king appeared the next instant on his balcony and under the applause of the crowd he waved to the warriors.

“People of Lakefield! People of Finem! We’re gathered today to watch the best warriors of this age fight between themselves until only the best remain.”

A thunderous clamor welcomed his words, and the king had to wait for a bit before he could speak again. He smiled and even shook his head with an amused face as the clamor didn’t falter for a long minute. He finally raised his hand to ask for silence after the second minute passed and the crowd was still fervently yelling and applauding. It took some time, but the crowd finally managed to control itself enough for the king to speak.

“I’ve prepared many things to say about the glory of our warriors and our country, but I can see how eager you all are. So let's keep those niceties for the next round and enjoy this one right now!”

He grabbed from his pocket a red cloth and raised it over the balcony, directly above the arena. His gesture immediately drew the fervor of the crowd that gestured and yelled crazily for the fight to begin.

With a nod to his citizens, the king dropped the cloth, and as it slowly floated down, all the warriors in the arena tensed, ready for action. The spectators turned silent as they focused on the cloth getting closer to the ground and at the warriors inside the arena.

The moment the red cloth touched the ground, the battle started. Many groups charged at their neighbors without any hesitation and barely a few seconds after the beginning, one could already see dozens of armors igniting everywhere in the arena. A cloud of white smoke slowly rose into the air.

Mahon and his group held their ground while observing the nearby fights. With their backs close to the edge, they only needed to keep watch on the fight happening in front of them and on their sides. Being three, each was responsible for a direction.

That was to say if they had been normal people. Mahon and Jorik had started to Flow even before the fight had started, and they were monitoring their surroundings with much better efficiency than their eyes could provide. With the sorcerers out of the battle, there weren’t many people capable of threatening them, but Mahon and Jorik knew better than to fight without all their assets.

They only had one shot at the king’s favor, and they weren’t ready to let it pass because of their carelessness. They knew better.

For half a minute, the trio was left alone, their Protectors insignias too much of a hurdle for most of the teams. In those thirty seconds, however, more than four hundred warriors got eliminated, and soon the survivors didn’t have the luxury of being picky.

Some teams ran into Mahon’s one while trying to escape their attackers while others built enough courage or colluded with other teams to attack the trio of Protectors that had stood there doing nothing since the beginning of the battle.

All in all, more than forty people were getting closer to their position, and they couldn’t afford to do nothing about it. A smile crept up on Mahon’s lips. He too was eager for some action.

“Jorik. Myrthil. Let’s go.”