Chương 74: Frog Rain

Half an hour later, the final match of the second day was ready to begin. Alaric stood within the tunnel beneath the arena, leaning against the stone wall as he waited for his name to be called. He adjusted his square glasses and quietly considered the previous matches.

"Let's see…" He raised one finger.

"On both days, the opening match ended with a kiss." A second finger.

"And the following match was a battle between two half-brothers." Alaric smiled to himself.

"So, following the pattern, a match involving one of Valor's enforcers should end with someone from Helheim humiliating him." He pushed himself away from the wall.

"I suppose I should keep the trend going." His crimson eyes flashed purple.

"Why stop at humiliation?" Phobia's voice slipped from his lips, soft and feminine.

"After what Valor did to us, why not simply kill him?" Alaric's expression immediately soured.

"Be quiet." His eyes returned to their usual red.

"I'm still angry with you, Sister." A faint pressure pulsed behind his eyes.

"I don't wish to speak with you." He adjusted his glasses again.

"Not for a while." Phobia fell silent. For now. Lord Ars rose from the imperial balcony as the crowd settled into their seats.

"Our final match of the day features two fighters considered among the favorites to win the entire tournament!" The arena erupted with cheers.

"Ranked fourth in the betting pools!" The right-side gate began to rise.

"The child of the Seventh Hero!" Alaric sighed.

"The son of Lumiar Sanguine—the strongest Hero in recorded history!" He stepped out of the tunnel.

"A man born with the very same abilities as his father!" Alaric's white lab coat fluttered behind him as he entered the arena.

"And while he may look like a goofy therapist who wandered into the wrong building…" The crowd laughed. Alaric nearly tripped the moment his shoes touched the loose sand. He stumbled forward, flailed his arms, and barely managed to recover without falling. The laughter grew louder. Alaric pushed his glasses back into place and offered everyone an awkward wave. Ars pointed toward him.

"I promise you, this man may very well win the entire tournament!" Alaric forced a smile.

"Please welcome Alaric Sanguine!" Scattered cheers came from the Helheim section. Natalia's voice rose above all of them.

"That's my husband!" Alaric immediately stood straighter. Ars turned toward the opposite gate.

"On the other side stands one of the three greatest favorites to claim Everfall!" The left-side gate opened.

"One of the Emperor's Five Fingers!" A man walked calmly into the arena, smoking a cigarette.

"Among Valor Crest's most trusted and dangerous subordinates!" He had short, messy brown hair and a single visible blue eye. An eyepatch covered the other. A yellow military uniform wrapped his lean frame, while a crimson royal cape hung from his shoulders. His right hand rested casually at his side. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Attached to his index finger was an unnaturally long crimson nail, sharpened to a deadly point.

"The commander of the Imperial Royal Guard!" The man exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"And the warrior known throughout the Empire as the Red Finger!" Ars threw both arms wide.

"Damian Hart!" Damian stopped across from Alaric and removed the cigarette from his mouth. His blue eye studied the demon in silence. Alaric gave him another awkward wave.

"Hello." Damian flicked ash from the end of his cigarette.

"I'd like to get this over with quickly." He reached beneath his uniform and pulled out a small pendant.

"Once this tournament is over, I'm taking a vacation to visit my granddaughter." The pendant opened with a soft click, revealing a photograph of a smiling little girl. Damian's hardened expression softened immediately.

"Children truly are a blessing, aren't they?" Alaric's face lit up.

"I have a son myself." He hurriedly reached into his lab coat and pulled out a photograph of a small child sleeping beneath a pile of blankets.

"This is Kel." Alaric proudly held the picture out for Damian to see.

"The poor thing was born with Sheep Syndrome, so he's almost always sleepy." His smile became gentle.

"But he's the most precious boy in the world." Damian studied the photograph for a moment. Then he closed his pendant.

"My granddaughter Ivy is more adorable." Alaric's smile disappeared.

"No." Damian raised an eyebrow.

"My son Kel is far more adorable."

"That is objectively incorrect." Alaric adjusted his glasses.

"You take that back."

"I will do no such thing." Damian grabbed Alaric by the collar.

"You insult my granddaughter again, and I'll make sure you leave this arena unconscious." Alaric seized Damian's collar in return.

"I'll make sure you can go home and visit your less adorable granddaughter early."

"Less adorable?" Damian's crimson nail extended slightly.

"You've crossed a line." The two men glared at one another, their faces only inches apart. Lord Ars stared down at them from the imperial balcony.

"I'm not entirely sure what they're arguing about…" The crowd listened as the words my child is cuter drifted through the arena. Ars shrugged.

"But they certainly seem excited to begin!" Alaric and Damian released one another and stepped back. Damian discarded his cigarette. Alaric carefully returned Kel's photograph to his coat. Both men lowered themselves into fighting stances, wearing expressions of absolute fury. Ars raised one hand.

"So, without further delay…" Damian pointed his crimson nail toward Alaric. Alaric pushed his glasses into place.

"Let the final match of the day begin!" Damian moved first. He rushed across the arena, his crimson nail extending from his finger like a spear. Alaric leapt backward. A smile spread across his face as his ability flared to life. Frogs began raining from the sky. Dozens of them fell across the arena, each one exploding the moment it struck the ground. Sand and fire erupted around Damian.

"Ability Activate—Stitchman." His body collapsed. Flesh transformed into sand, merging seamlessly with the arena floor. Each explosion scattered him apart, only for the grains to gather and reform moments later. The only part of Damian that remained unchanged was the crimson nail. It floated through the destruction like an indestructible shard of blood. No explosion could scratch it. Stitchman allowed Damian to integrate anything he touched into his body. Organic. Inorganic. Living or lifeless.

As long as he maintained contact, he could become part of it.

"Annoying ability." Alaric chuckled. Damian's face reformed from the sand.

"Not nearly as annoying as someone who makes exploding frogs rain from the sky." The crimson nail expanded. It lengthened and thickened until it became the blade of a massive axe. Damian swung. Alaric casually leaned aside, allowing the weapon to pass inches from his face. Before he could retaliate, Damian dissolved once again. His body sank beneath the arena floor. The crimson nail disappeared with him. Alaric adjusted his glasses. He could sense Damian moving below. Circling.

Waiting for the perfect angle to strike.

"So…" Phobia whispered within his mind.

"Are you going to kill him?" Alaric's crimson eyes flickered purple.

"He did insult our son."

"I might." Alaric smiled faintly.

"Though that would give you satisfaction." His eyes returned to normal.

"So perhaps I'll let him live out of spite." He raised one hand. Then snapped his fingers. Fire began raining from the sky. Blazing droplets struck the arena floor, instantly melting the sand beneath them. The ground hardened into glass. Then shattered. Cracks raced across the battlefield as entire sections collapsed into glittering fragments. Beneath the surface, Damian's movement became erratic. Alaric continued snapping his fingers, transforming more of the arena with each wave of fire.

"I recommend coming back up." Another section of glass fractured.

"Unless you wish to be shattered along with the ground." Alaric chuckled. Then continued destroying the battlefield beneath his feet.