The shaking stopped moments later.
Just like that. One second the ground was doing its best impression of the end of the world and the next it was done. Like whatever was underneath, had decided it made its point.
Sephs hand was gone from my shoulder.
Neither of us said anything about it.
The announcer came back.
"CANDIDATES. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE! PHASE TWO WILL NOW BEGIN!"
Many officials appeared out no where along the edges of the arena and started moving candidates off the floor and into the front row of the stadium.
We filed in.
The front row was made of this super rough stone and was close enough to the arena floor that if some something came out of the ground you would have no time to decide how you felt about it.
I sat down.
I looked to my left and then looked right. Around sixty something candidates were settling into seats, some just adjusting there weapons, some checking equipment and some just sitting very still with the expression of people instantly regretting registering for this event.
I sat there with my cup.
The announcers mic chirped on and he cleared his throat.
"PHASE TWO OPERATES AS FOLLOWS!"
The crowd went silent.
"CANDIDATES WILL BE CALLED TO THE ARENA FLOOR INDIVIDUALLY. ORDER IS ALPHABETICAL BY FAMILY NAME. EACH CANDIDATE WILL FACE A DESIGNATED THREAT MATCHED TO THEIR PHASE ONE CLASSIFICATION RESULTS."
A pause.
"THE EVALUATION CRITERIA ARE SPLIT INTO GROUPS. FIRST. SURVIVABILITY. SECOND. COMBAT EFFECTIVENESS. THIRD. SKILL APPLICATION. FOURTH. ADAPTABILITY UNDER PRESSURE."
Another pause. Longer this time.
"THERE ARE NO RULES REGARDING METHOD. HOW YOU WIN IS YOUR OWN BUSINESS. WINNING IS THE ONLY REQUIREMENT."
The crowd responded immediately to that one with cheers roaring.
"WITHDRAWAL IS PERMITTED AT ANY POINT BY RAISING YOUR RIGHT HAND. WITHDRAWAL RESULTS IN IMMEDIATE DISQUALIFICATION FROM PHASE THREE. CANDIDATES WHO ARE RENDERED UNABLE TO CONTINUE WILL BE EXTRACTED BY THE ARENA MEDICS."
He paused again.
"THE ARENA MEDICS ARE VERY GOOD AT THEIR JOB!"
He said that in a tone like it was supposed to be reassuring.
It was not reassuring.
"THE FIRST CANDIDATE WILL NOW BE CALLED TO THE ARENA FLOOR."
"TOVEN BREL!"
I looked down the row and saw him.
[ GUTTER INTUITION: Scanning individual. ]
[ Name: Toven Brel. Age: 24. ]
[ Class: Unregistered Combat Specialist. ]
[ Threat Level: High. ]
[ Notable: No formal training detected. Combat style self developed. Instinct based. Extremely high physical stats for age and classification. ]
[ Additional note: This individual is currently smiling. Assessment: Either very confident or completely unaware of what is about to happen. Possibly both. ]
Toven Brel was built like someone who had spent his entire life doing things the hard way and enjoyed every second of it. He had Dark hair, a large cut above his left eyebrow that had not fully healed. His clothes were practical and battered in the specific way of someone who wore things until they gave up on him . He also was carrying this sword at his hip that had clearly been in more fights than most people in this stadium had ever seen.
He stood up.
Cracked his neck. Rolled his shoulders and grinned at nobody in particular.
Then he ran down to the arena floor like he was heading somewhere he had been looking forward to all morning.
"TOVEN BREL OF CALDENMERE. UNREGISTERED COMBAT SPECIALIST. STEPPING ONTO THE FLOOR NOW. FIRST CANDIDATE OF PHASE TWO."
The crowd gave him a solid amount of cheers. Not the roar they gave the kings. Just the warm approval of people who appreciated someone who walked into an arena looking like they belonged there.
The floor slammed shut and sealed him in the arena..
Toven stood in the middle of it of, all happy looking and relaxed like he was waiting in line for what to order at his favourite fast food place.
The crowd went quiet.
Then the announcer spoke again.
"PHASE TWO. CANDIDATE TOVEN BREL. CLASSIFICATION RESULT FROM PHASE ONE. COMBAT SPECIALIST GRADE FOUR. DESIGNATED THREAT. SHADOW STALKERS. FOUR UNITS. RELEASING NOW."
The shadows moved and they came out fast.
"AND THEY ARE OUT. FOUR SHADOW STALKERS ON THE FLOOR. THESE ARE FAST MOVING GRADE FOUR THREATS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. THEY COME IN AND OUT OF VISIBILITY AND THEY HIT HARD WHEN THEY CONNECT. TOVEN BREL HAS FOUR OF THEM AND NOWHERE TO GO. WILL HE SURVIVE!"
They were roughly the size of large dogs but their proportions shifted when they moved. No fixed form. Just fast and dark and coming from four directions at once. Flickering in and out of visibility.
The crowd leaned forward in there seats.
Toven looked at them.
Then he laughed.
Not nervously. A genuine laugh, like someone who had just been told they won the lottery.
He drew his sword.
"BREL IS DRAWING HIS SWORD AND HE IS— WAIT, WHAT. HE IS RUNNING AT THEM. HE IS RUNNING DIRECTLY AT THE NEAREST SHADOW STALKER LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WITH ABSOLUTELY NO HESITATION WHATSOEVER—"
Toven closed the distance in two seconds and hit the first creature with everything he had.
It exploded into dark smoke.
"FIRST SHADOW STALKER DOWN. ONE SWING. ONE SWING FROM TOVEN BREL AND THE FIRST UNIT IS GONE. THE CROWD IS ON THEIR FEET—"
They were. Literally. A section of the stadium had stood up without deciding to.
Toven was already turning and the second creature had tried to flank him. He dropped under it, came up inside its reach and drove his elbow into its centre.
The shadow stalker exploded, causing a massive explosion that shook the area.
He pointed at it at one of the two remaining.
"Stay there," he said cheerfully. "I'll get to you."
He laughed.
"DID HE JUST TELL THE SHADOW STALKER TO WAIT? HE TOLD IT TO WAIT. THE CROWD CANNOT BELIEVE IT AND FRANKLY NEITHER CAN I—"
The third creature came from the left and fast aiming for his legs. Toven read it a half second before it got to him and he jumped over it mid motion, sword coming down and landing a direct blow to the shadow causing another massive explosion.
The crowd erupts.
"THIRD UNIT DOWN! BREL IS MOVING LIKE HE HAS DONE THIS A HUNDRED TIMES. NO FORMAL TRAINING ON RECORD LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. WHAT YOU ARE WATCHING IS PURE INSTINCT!"
[ GUTTER INTUITION: Updating assessment of Toven Brel. ]
[ Combat style: Controlled chaos. Appears reckless. Is not reckless. Makes calculated decisions at a speed that reads as instinct. This individual fights better when he is enjoying himself. ]
[ Revised threat level: Very high. ]
The one he had told to wait had not waited.
It was circling him now. It acted more smarter than the others. It had watched three of its kind go down and made a decision that direct approach was not the answer. It flickered as it moved, faster than the others had been, staying at the edge of Toven's range.
"THE REMAINING SHADOW STALKER IS NOT COMMITTING! IT IS TESTING HIM. THIS IS UNUSUAL BEHAVIOUR FOR A GRADE FOUR THREAT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. THESE CREATURES DO NOT TYPICALLY SHOW THIS LEVEL OF TACTICAL AWARENESS."
Toven tracked it with his eyes. Just his eyes. His body completely still and his sword loose in his hand. The smile was gone now, but not because of fear. Just concentration. The expression of someone who had stopped playing and started taking shit seriously.
The creature feinted left.
Toven did not move.
It feinted right.
Toven did not move.
It was committed.
Toven moved once. One motion, clean and precise, nothing like the reckless energy of the first three. Starting from his shoulder he took a swing and it ending with the creature coming apart in a burst of dark smoke that drifted upward and dissolved before it reached the crowd.
"TOVEN BREL. ALL UNITS DOWN! PHASE TWO EVALUATION COMPLETE. WHAT A PERFORMANCE FROM THE UNREGISTERED COMBAT SPECIALIST LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The stadium erupted.
Toven looked up at the crowd and then looked along the front row with his eyes moving down the line and stopped.
On me.
Two seconds. Gutter Intuition ran a quick read.
[ GUTTER INTUITION: Individual. Toven Brel. Currently looking at you. Reason: Unknown. Not hostile. Curious. Assessment: He has already decided something about you. Unknown what. ]
Then he grinned.
Not at the crowd. At me. Like he had made a decision and was satisfied with it.
Then he walked back to his seat.
I glanced over near the gate to see if Sable just saw all of that.
Sable was at the gate. Same position. Arms at her sides.
But she was not watching Toven walk back.
She was looking at the viewing box.
Not all seven kings. One specific one.
[ GUTTER INTUITION: Minor behavioral flag. Individual Sable Vorn. Eye line directed toward viewing box during candidate return. Duration two seconds. Cross referencing. ]
[ Assessment: Inconclusive. Filed. ]
I looked at the viewing box.
Brenn Earthwalker was sitting exactly where he had been before.
He was looking at the arena floor.
I looked back at Sable.
She was looking at the arena floor.
I filed it as nothing. She had been standing there for over an hour. People looked at things.
Toven dropped back into his seat.
Not even breathing hard.
"NEXT CANDIDATE TO THE ARENA FLOOR!"
The crowd silenced.
"FEN HAVEL."
Three seats to my right.
I looked at him.
[ GUTTER INTUITION: Scanning individual. ]
[ Name: Fen Havel. Age: 15. ]
[ Class: Unclassified. ]
[ Threat Level: Unknown. ]
[ Magic Capacity: Cannot be determined through standard assessment. ]
[ Notable: Ability detected does not match any existing classification in Oracle's database. Skill origin unclear. This individual should not be here based on age. Is here anyway. ]
[ Additional note: Currently eating something. Assessment: Unbothered. ]
Fen Havel was fifteen and looked it. He had dark eyes that moved quickly and took in more than they gave back. His clothes were all black and slightly too big on him.
When his name got called and he stood up, there was an audible reaction from the crowd. Forty thousand people doing the math on his age simultaneously.
"FEN HAVEL. FIFTEEN YEARS OLD! UNCLASSIFIED. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS THE YOUNGEST CANDIDATE IN THE HISTORY OF THE ROYAL GAUNTLET."
You could feel it in the air that the crowd did not know how to feel about that. The sound of forty thousand people deciding to either be impressed or concerned.
Fen walked down to the floor without saying a word.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena speaker.
"FEN HAVEL. STEPPING ONTO THE FLOOR. UNCLASSIFIED CANDIDATE. FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. DUE TO THE UNCLASSIFIED RESULT FROM PHASE ONE, THE EVALUATION COMMITTEE HAS SELECTED A GRADE FIVE THREAT FOR THIS CANDIDATE. THIS IS WAY ABOVE STANDARD FOR AN UNCLASSIFIED RESULT, BUT THE COMMITTEE FELT IT WAS APPROPRIATE GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES."
A low murmur rippled through the crowd.
Fen reached the center. Stopped. Looked straight down at the floor. Tilted his head just a little to the left.
The floor cracked.
Not slow, not creeping, but a sharp, sudden CRACK that split the silence like someone shot a gun. Four lines shot out from right under his feet at the same time with a grinding and hissing sound mixed with dust flying up in the air. A deep rumble had started seconds earlier that was vibrating through everyone's shoes and then stopped suddenly.
Then, the floor moved.
A muffled BOOM from below shook the whole stadium. A massive five meter large chunk blasted up into the sky letting out a roaring explosion along with shattering concrete and flying debris. Chilling damp air rushed out with a smell of wet earth. The dust that flew up from it stung my eyes
Something huge climbed through the hole.
It was a mix of compacted dirt and rock with dark veins under its skin. It had four thick limbs. It pulled itself upright and stood around nine meter tall
No face.
[ ORACLE: Entity detected. Initiating scan. ]
[ Classification: Stone Marrow Beast. ]
[ Grade: Five. ]
[ Height: Approximately nine meters. ]
[ Composition: Compacted earth and rock reinforced by dark marrow veins running beneath the exterior surface. Functions as both structural support and regenerative system. Exterior density rated at near impenetrable by standard weapon classification. ]
[ Regenerative Capability: High. Damaged sections rebuild from internal marrow supply. Conventional damage is temporary unless the marrow veins are specifically targeted. ]
[ Known Weaknesses: Internal marrow network. Disrupting the vein system prevents regeneration. Locating it from the exterior is considered extremely difficult under combat conditions. ]
[ Threat Assessment: Severe. Last deployed in Royal Gauntlet evaluation eleven years ago. Candidate who faced it did not complete the phase. ]
[ Oracle note: This creature has been matched to an unclassified fifteen year old. Oracle has concerns. ]
"AND THERE IT IS," the announcer said, his voice was rising with excitement. "A STONE MARROW BEAST. GRADE FIVE DESIGNATION. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, A STONE MARROW BEAST HAS NOT BEEN USED IN A ROYAL GAUNTLET EVALUATION IN ELEVEN YEARS. THESE CREATURES ARE NEARLY IMPENETRABLE. THEY REGENERATE. THEY DON'T TIRE. AND RIGHT NOW ONE IS LOOKING AT A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD BOY!"
The crowd went dead quiet.
Fen looked at it. Tilted his head again.
The beast moved very fast for something of that size. It closed the distance in a blink of an eye and swung one arm towards him that should have taken his head clean off.
Fen wasn't there.
He hadn't run. Hadn't jumped. He was just... slightly to the left.... Enough for the arm to slice empty air.
"HE MOVED," the announcer said, sounding stunned. "BARELY. FEN HAVEL MOVED JUST ENOUGH AND NO MORE."
It swung again.
Fen shifted again. No extra effort. No change in expression.
"IT CANNOT HIT HIM. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! IT CANNOT HIT HIM AND I AM NOT SURE ANY OF US UNDERSTAND WHY."
Something was happening in the air around Fen. From the front row you could feel it. A pressure that made people lean back without thinking. Like the space itself was bending.
[ GUTTER INTUITION: Updating assessment of Fen Havel. ]
[ Ability active. Classification: Still unknown. Effect: Environmental. The space around this individual is being altered in a way that standard assessment cannot categorize. Not illusion. Not barrier magic. Not combat enhancement. ]
[ Oracle note: Oracle has no record of this ability. Oracle suggests watching carefully. ]
The beast swung a third time.
Fen raised one hand.
Palm flat in front of him. Like stopping someone at a door.
The creature stopped.
Dead.
The creatures arm was straight and any of its initial momentum, was gone. Frozen in a pose that should have been impossible for something so heavy.
"IT HAS STOPPED....." the announcer whispered, almost to himself. "THE STONE MARROW BEAST HAS STOPPED MOVING. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I HAVE BEEN ANNOUNCING THIS EVENT FOR NINETEEN YEARS AND I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE WHAT I AM CURRENTLY LOOKING AT—"
The arena was silent.
Fen stood just stood there for a second.
Then he closed his hand into a fist.
The beast started to fall apart.
Not with a bang. but quietly. The packed earth and stone just... slow separated. The dark veins dissolved and pieces slid away slowly losing shape from the inside out until it was only rubble.
Three seconds of pure silence.
The crowd erupted.
"FEN HAVEL. FIFTEEN YEARS OLD! UNCLASSIFIED. STONE MARROW BEAST DEFEATED. GRADE FIVE THREAT. ELIMINATED!" The announcer's voice cracked. "I— LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I DO NOT HAVE THE WORDS—"
The crowd more than made up for it.
Fen glanced at his hand and then at the pile of debris and walked back toward the candidate row, calm as if he'd just finished a chore.
He passed me.
Glanced at me once. Quick.
Then he sat down and went back to whatever he had been eating.
I sat in my seat.
No weapon. No armour. No class. No combat training and a cup.
The arena floor sealed up in front of me.
The crowd was still freaking out after what they had just seen. Two candidates down. Both of them extraordinary in completely different ways.
"NEXT CANDIDATE TO THE ARENA FLOOR!"
I already knew what was coming.
"RYMUR KAITO."
I did not move immediately.
I sat with the cup in my hand. The stone seat under me. The forty thousand people above me who had just watched two extraordinary things happen and were now waiting for a third.
I slowly stood up.
Gutter Intuition ran its usual scan the moment I was on my feet.
[ GUTTER INTUITION: Environmental assessment. Arena floor. Current status: Active. Threat level below floor: Significant. Recommendation: Proceed with caution. ]
I stepped out of the front row.
The walk from the candidate seats to the arena floor was not long. Maybe thirty meters or so. But thirty meters feels different when forty thousand people are watching every single step.
I passed the edge of the front row. Then passed the officials standing at the barrier. Then I passed the chalk line that marked where the candidate seating ended and the arena began.
I stopped at the edge of the arena floor.
Looked out at it.
I looked at the holes where Toven's shadow stalkers had come from, now all sealed back up. The larger hole from where Fens Stone Marrow Beast had come through, also now being sealed up.
The floor was clean.
Just waiting for me.
I looked back once.
Toven was watching from his seat with his arms crossed and an expression I could not fully read. Fen had looked up from whatever he was eating. Seph was completely staring me down watching with the look of someone who wanted something to go wrong.
Sable was at the gate.
She was watching me.
I held her gaze for one second.
She gave me the same nod she had given me when I walked out of the corridor at the start of all this.
I then turned back around and stepped onto the arena floor.
The announcer cleared his throat.
"RYMUR KAITO! CURRENTLY UNCLASSIFIED. PENDING GUILD MASTER REVIEW."
I walked to the center.
Each step felt slower than the last. just because the arena was big and quiet and every footstep landed in the silence like it had weight behind it.
I finally reached the center.
Stopped.
Stood there.
Thin clothes with cup in hand.
The crowd was quiet.
"Oracle," I said very quietly.
"Yes."
"Anything underneath me."
A pause.
"Yes," Oracle said.
"How bad."
Oracle did not answer immediately.
The ground in front of me began to crack.
Not like Toven's floor. Not like Fen's floor.
The crack spread wider than anything that had come before it. The sound it made was lower, a groan more than a crack, the sound of something very large shifting its weight for the first time in a long time and the air above it moved in a way that the candidates on either side of me in the front row leaned away without deciding to. The temperature then suddenly dropped to chilling temperatures . Not gradually. Just dropped.
I gripped my cup tightly.
The announcer had gone quiet for the first time since Phase Two began.
The arena was still dead silent.
The cracks spread wider.
Something was pushing through from underneath. Not fast. Just steadily like it had been waiting a long time for this moment and wanted to enjoy every bit of it.
The temperature dropped again.
The candidates on either side of me pressed back further into their seats.
I did not move.
"THAT," the announcer said quietly. "IS NOT ON THE APPROVED CREATURE LIST."