Their eyes, however, were fixed on one table in particular.
Jack and Petros.
The pair were hunched over their loot, sifting through coins, gear, and trinkets with a mixture of glee and strategy.
The child flinched ever so slightly as Petros set aside a dull bronze medallion, deeming it worthless. Her gaze lingered on it, dark eyes narrowing momentarily before her attention shifted.
Then Jack revealed the crystal.
The Dark Mana Crystal.
The little girl shuddered—not with fear, but delight. A slow grin spread across her cherubic face, so out of place on someone who radiated such old, malevolent energy.
Glancing sideways at the old man, she grinned wider. "Is that sweat on your brow?" she asked, voice laced with mockery.
"You know we don’t sweat, child," he replied coolly, the word "child" carrying a weight that made her grin falter for a second. Despite her appearance, she was no innocent. She was ancient. Dangerous.
Still, she laughed, licking her lips as Jack turned the crystal over in his fingers.
They watched silently as Petros began translating the inscription from Jack’s journal. The girl stiffened slightly, not expecting the boy to decipher the Shadow Tongue so quickly. Gondel’s script had been intentionally obtuse—twisted, obscure, meant to delay comprehension.
She had tampered with the description, embedding the text in Jack’s journal to lure him toward the act. She thought the precaution of masking it in Shadow Tongue would buy her time.
But then Jack did something she didn’t anticipate.
He swallowed it.
Whole.
There was no prompt circled, and no journal entry was finalized. No hesitation.
Both the old man and the girl froze.
The crystal didn’t just rest inside Jack. It vanished. Absorbed into his very essence.
For a moment, silence reigned at their shadowed table.
Then the girl let out a series of soft, giddy giggles—maniacal and barely contained. The kind of joy only the wicked could genuinely understand.
She giggled louder when Petros, horrified, realized the implications of the remaining translated text. Jack had already crossed the threshold. There would be no going back.
"Delicious," she whispered, practically vibrating with excitement.
The old man’s jaw clenched. His fists curled in his lap.
She turned toward him, placing a mockingly gentle hand on his shoulder. “Cheer up, Uhfertal,” she said sweetly. “There’s still the chance my champion will destroy Jack.”
The name hit him like a blow.
His eyes narrowed. He knew who her champion was. Asil. Jack’s wife.
His breath caught—not from fear, but from the cruel irony. The one who might kill Jack wasn’t a stranger. She was the very thing he was trying to protect.
The little girl vanished in a blink, her laughter echoing faintly in the air she left behind.
Uhfertal exhaled slowly. The strain dropped from his face, and for the first time, a small, defiant smile tugged at his lips.
Jack had chosen.
And so had the world.
The gate dissolved beneath Jack’s outstretched hand.
The arch remained—an ancient monument of stone and rusted iron—but the bars faded into a swirling wall of shadows. Darkness churned within, like a vortex of ink suspended in the air.
Jack stood at the edge, peering into the void.
Behind him, his team readied themselves.
Henry stood tall, a massive double-bladed axe resting across one shoulder, his other hand gripping his trusted blacksmith hammer. The weapons pulsed faintly with stored enchantments, a soft hum of anticipation radiating from their cores.
Raven had drawn a short sword, sleek and deadly. Her other hand crackled with dark energy, mana coiling around her clenched fist like smoke. Her eyes glowed with excitement—and something else. Determination.
Petros stood calm, a soft aura dancing over his skin, the air around him prickling with latent mana. Saul, the wolf that had bonded with him, let out a low growl, fangs bared, fur bristling.
Jack was about to step through but remembered he was part of a team and turned back to look at Petros.
“Shall we?” he asked, voice low.
Petros met his gaze, unwavering. “Let’s do this.”
“Hell yeah,” Raven added, grinning.
Henry just nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching with the hint of a smile.
Jack gave a final glance toward the portal. Then he stepped through.
Swirling shadows engulfed them instantly.
Each stood isolated in a sea of darkness, cut off by the whirling mist, voices nearby but distant. For a moment, it felt like the world held its breath.
Then, the shadows parted.
The mist peeled back like a curtain, revealing a massive coliseum—stone, towering, ancient. The central field stretched wide—easily the size of two football fields. Cracks lined the worn stone beneath their feet, and the air smelled of old blood and earth.
Rows upon rows of tiered seating rose around them, stretching up into the shadows above.
And every seat was filled.
Thousands upon thousands of shadowy figures stared down at them, unmoving, silent. Representing all the races of Aeothane and the Shadow Realm, Elves, Humans, dwarves, demons, and many more.
Then, the cheering began.
It hit like a deafening shockwave. The sound thundered through the arena, vibrating in their bones and stealing their breath.
The team instinctively shifted, forming a tight circle with their backs to one another.
Jack’s palms filled with crackling power. Petros’s hands glowed as he summoned his spell matrix. Henry’s axe shimmered with arcane runes, and Raven moved like a blur, slamming down two small totems with a soft clack.
She vanished mid-step, reappearing above in the form of a massive hawk, circling the totems below.
Petros blinked, something stirring within him.
He activated his mana sight.
Time seemed to slow.
The world around him dimmed, and the totems pulsed in his vision—beacons of raw structure and intent. He saw the runes—ancient, precise, each one guiding mana flow with breathtaking efficiency. The arcane pulses from the wood connected with the ground, and the air with them.
And suddenly—he understood.
All the texts he had read, the spells he studied, the connection to the Source—it clicked.
“Holy shi—”
The notifications hit him like a wave:
You have learned ‘Totem of Strength’ (Level 1): When deployed, adds +7 strength to all party members within range. Duration: 1 minute.
You have learned ‘Totem of Healing’ (Level 1): When deployed, emits a healing pulse. +2 health regeneration ticks per second. Duration: 30 seconds.
Materials Required – Totem of Strength: 1 Medium Firewood, 2 Medium Stones
Materials Required – Totem of Healing: 1 Medium Firewood, 17 Yarrow Flowers
“What is it, kid?” Jack called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the arena.
“I think I just figured—”
Before he could finish, the sky above the coliseum blazed with fiery script.
4 v 4
The crowd exploded with renewed cheers.
A dark mist coalesced at the far end of the field, then dispersed, revealing four towering figures.
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Goblins.
But not like any they’d faced before.
Each stood nearly eight feet tall, their skin a diseased green-gray, eyes burning like coals. Spiked armor covered their torsos, and each held brutal cleavers the size of wagon wheels.
Above their heads, flaming red text burned into view:
Alpha Goblin – Level 30 (x4)
Jack’s eyes narrowed. Power hummed through his veins.
The team spread out, forming a line. Petros stepped forward, scimitars in hand, his spectral guardian materializing beside him with a growl.
Jack raised his staff, the crystal tip pulsing with violet light. “I guess this is happening,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching with barely restrained glee.
And then—they charged.
The goblins let out guttural roars and thundered across the arena.
“Take the ones directly in front of you!” Henry bellowed, his voice like a warhorn cutting through the air.
Without hesitation, the team surged forward, breaking into four lines of attack. They trusted Henry’s instincts, and in this coliseum of chaos, instincts meant survival.
Jack didn’t need further prompting. Electricity crackled around him like a storm-given flesh. His target loomed ahead, an Alpha Goblin towering with rippling muscle, crude armor, and glowing red eyes. Jack surged forward, lightning arcing from his fingertips and striking the goblin square in the chest.
The blast threw the creature back, slamming it against the arena wall. It growled, stunned—but very much alive.
A jagged door on the arena wall slid open with a bone-rattling screech, and ten smaller goblins rushed forth, snarling and waving chipped blades.
“Saul!” Jack shouted.
The great wolf didn’t hesitate. With a burst of speed that left a dust cloud in his wake, Saul veered from Jack’s side and lunged into the group of lesser goblins.
Letting off a savage growl, a chorus of shrieks followed as the goblins turned their attention to him—only to be met with savage retribution. Saul tore into them with fangs and fury, his eyes gleaming with battle lust. The pack of ten quickly became a flurry of limbs and screams.
Raven circled above in hawk form, her vision sharp and her totems empowering her every movement. She saw her Alpha Goblin raise its club and sprint toward the center field.
With a cry, she dove.
Her talons raked across its face, gouging one of its eyes. The beast roared, stumbling and flailing. In a rage, it hurled its club like a javelin.
The weapon clipped her wing with a glancing blow.
Pain flared. Raven lost control, spiraling through the air. But she shifted mid-fall, her form swelling into that of a mighty bear. Her massive weight crushed the goblin beneath her as she landed, shaking the ground.
Pinned under the weight of a bear, the goblin let out a strangled howl. Raven raised a claw to strike, but the creature was fast—it bucked violently, rolling them both. In seconds, she found herself on her back, the goblin’s hand closing around her thick bear throat.
But Raven was faster.
Her body shimmered and twisted. In the blink of an eye, the bear was gone—and a sleek, emerald-green snake slithered through the goblin’s grasp.
The creature stared in confusion.
Then Raven struck.
Her fangs sank deep into the goblin’s thigh, injecting venom. The beast howled in pain and swatted at her, but she was already gone, shifting again—now back to her human form, standing behind it with her short sword crackling with verdant energy.
Petros’s guardian spirit exploded forward, reaching his Alpha Goblin a half-second before he did. The burst of energy staggered the goblin, giving Petros just enough time to dart around and slash deep into the creature’s side.
As the goblin stumbled, Petros whipped around its front and carved a shallow but vicious slash across its cheek.
The beast roared.
It lashed out, grabbing Petros mid-motion and lifting him like a toy.
The goblin sneered.
Petros met its gaze. “That all you got?”
The beast responded by throwing him hard into the dirt.
Stunned, Petros gasped for air, vision swimming.
The goblin raised a foot, intending to crush him.
But Warden’s Embrace activated, a shimmering barrier catching the blow and dispersing the force.
Still groggy, Petros rolled, hand outstretched.
“Come on... come on...” he whispered.
The goblin leapt.
And just as it did, both of Petros’s scimitars materialized in his grasp—plunging deep into the beast’s chest as it landed atop him.
The creature gave one last grunt before crumpling.
Jack, meanwhile, was in motion again.
The goblin he’d blasted had recovered and was preparing to charge when Jack slammed his staff into the ground. Runes flared—fire and spirit—combined into a devastating arcane laced flame gout.
The blast engulfed the goblin, reducing it to a charred husk in seconds.
Jack didn’t wait for the journal update. He turned, eyes searching the field.
He saw Raven, exhausted, standing at the ready as her goblin got up and charged her.
Jack readied a spell, but before he could cast it, the goblin staggered mid-run, and the venom finally took hold. It collapsed forward, trembling.
Raven didn’t speak. She strode forward, stepped over its twitching arm, and drove her sword through the back of its neck. She glanced down at the satchel hanging from her side and allowed herself a slight smirk.
Jack noted the action as she looked to the bag at her hip, “Interesting.”
Henry was a blur, his massive axe cleaving through air and flesh. He struck his Alpha Goblin with devastating precision, severing an arm before spinning to remove a leg.
The goblin dropped to its side, gasping.
Henry raised his weapon to finish it off.
“I yield!” it rasped.
The mist responded before he could. Black fog consumed the goblin, erasing it from the battlefield. Henry flinched as a vibration buzzed at his belt.
Saul’s growls echoed across the arena.
The wolf moved like lightning, tearing through the last of the smaller goblins. His coat was matted with blood, his eyes alight with the fire of the hunt. The last of the ten tried to flee—but Saul caught it mid-leap and brought it down with a savage bite.
Silence returned.
The stands were quiet now. The thousands of shadowy spectators stared in eerie stillness.
Then, slowly, a low, rumbling cheer began to rise.
Jack, breathing heavily, turned to Henry and Raven.
“So,” he said with a sly grin. “You guys have journals too?”
Raven opened her mouth to respond to Jack’s question, but before a sound could escape, the shadow mist surged from the ground and enveloped them.
In a blink, the darkness cleared.
Jack blinked and found himself standing alone with Henry.
Raven, Petros, and Saul were gone.
The atmosphere had shifted. The coliseum felt colder, heavier—as if watching.
Above them, fiery letters burned across the sky:
2v2
Jack and Henry instinctively turned toward each other.
Henry nodded solemnly and rolled his shoulders, raising his massive axe and hammer. “Guess it’s our turn.”
Jack spun his staff once, then slammed it into the ground. Fire and lightning runes blazed to life. “Let’s make it count.”
About twenty feet away, the mist shimmered again—this time revealing two enormous Alpha Wolves. They stood at least ten feet tall at the shoulder, black fur bristling, glowing red eyes focused solely on their prey.
“Here we go!” Jack shouted, the crowd erupting around them.
But instead of waiting for the charge, Henry roared and stormed forward, weapons ready. Jack raised his hand and unleashed a blast of chain lightning. The arc of electricity jumped to the first wolf—then leaped to the second, careful precision allowing it to skip past Henry.
The first wolf dropped immediately, steam rising from its fur as it twitched.
The second growled and shook off the blast, merely stunned.
Jack winced. “Tough sons of bitches.” He said, chuckling at his pun.
Henry didn’t stop. He swung low with his hammer, catching the second wolf in the leg, then brought his axe down in a finishing blow. The creature’s head hit the ground moments before its body collapsed.
Jack finished the stunned wolf with a flame-infused rune strike, his staff erupting in a blast of fire that engulfed the creature.
Before either man could react, the arena shifted again. The wolves vanished.
In their place stood two towering Alpha Demons—level 32, according to the text that floated momentarily above their heads—muscles like obsidian armor, eyes like molten metal, and claws that shimmered with barely contained magic.
They didn’t roar. They didn’t posture.
They just charged.
Henry met his demon first, blocking a devastating swipe with his hammer. Sparks exploded with the impact, metal grating against infernal bone.
Jack unleashed another chain lightning, aiming at the second demon—but as soon as the bolt hit, the creature absorbed it. Electricity surged through its form, and with a flash of light, it vanished.
“Shit!” Jack cried.
The demon rematerialized in the lightning arc itself—slamming full-force into Jack’s chest and sending him skidding across the arena floor.
Jack groaned as he hit the ground hard. His vision flickered, and a pain unlike anything before radiated across his chest.
“Ouch,” he muttered, coughing as he got to his feet.
The demon stalked forward, but Jack was already moving. He rolled, planting his staff again and casting Fire Rain.
Flames descended from above, engulfing the demon.
It absorbed the attack.
Then it lunged.
Jack barely dodged, his robe scorched by proximity. He summoned his staff again—this time into his hand instead of into the ground—and planted it with a snap, channeling both spirit and lightning.
The blast hit the demon again, but like before, it absorbed the lightning, vanishing into the arc.
Jack anticipated the move.
The demon tried to rematerialize beside him—but Jack had left his staff in place. The creature reformed next to it, and a surge of spirit energy pulsed from the weapon, blasting the demon sideways. For the first time, it roared in pain.
Jack smirked and recalled his staff.
“Let’s try that again.”
This time, however, the demon adapted. It teleported behind Jack mid-attack, grasping both his shoulders with sparking claws. Electricity surged through Jack’s body, and he screamed—raw and ragged.
Notifications flooded his mind:
HP below 50%
Electricity Resistance unlocked – Level 1
“Great timing,” Jack hissed, staggering to his feet.
Summoning his staff, he planted it and combined spirit and fire again.
The demon absorbed the flame, but the spirit rune lanced through it, tearing away another chunk of health.
Jack was weakening, and he knew it.
When the demon fired its own torrent of flame, Jack had only one chance. He cast mana through the wind rune on his taff and created a vortex. The fire spun into the maelstrom—and to Jack’s surprise, the staff absorbed it.
A flash of inspiration.
He focused.
Mana Control flared within him as he compressed the absorbed energy into a glowing orb at the head of his staff.
The demon vanished again—rematerializing directly behind him.
But Jack had spun in anticipation.
The demon appeared with its chest pressed against the glowing staff.
Jack released the orb.
The explosion rocked the arena. Flames erupted in a sphere of annihilation, consuming the demon and sending Jack flying backward like a ragdoll.
Smoke drifted from his robe, his breathing ragged—but the demon was gone.
Across the field, Henry was barely holding his own. Sparks flew as claws raked against weapons. The demon was relentless.
Then Henry ducked beneath a strike and spun. Arcane energy surged into his hammer, and he brought it around—cracking the demon across the jaw.
At the same time, the creature raked Henry’s side, tearing through armor and flesh.
Henry staggered but didn’t stop.
He screamed and charged, dodging another swipe and bringing his axe down. Arcane power shimmered along the blade as it severed the demon’s head clean from its shoulders.
Henry collapsed to one knee, blood streaming down his side.
Behind him, the shockwave from Jack’s explosion hit.
Henry was thrown forward, hitting the ground hard. Moments later, Jack landed beside him with a thud.
Everything went still.
For a heartbeat, the coliseum was silent.
Then, their journals vibrated.
Victory.
The crowd erupted, thunderous and wild, shaking the ground with their approval.
Henry groaned, rolling onto his back.
Jack crawled over, still smoking from the blast, and grabbed Henry’s shoulder. “You okay, old man?”
Henry managed a chuckle. “Aye, lad. I’ll live.”
Before either could recover, the mist surged again.
Henry vanished.
Jack was alone on the field. Still smoldering, still grinning.
He rose to his feet.
“Next.”