The crowd buzzed with anticipation as the announcer's voice boomed across the colosseum.
"NEXT ROUND! Rapid-fire matchups, and only the best will survive! Buckle up!"
The matches kicked off in blazing succession.
The Gentleman Hexer danced circles around Tundra, dismantling the frost giant's defenses with elegant hexes and fate-altering cards. One sly move and the blizzard stopped—Hexer advanced.
Juno the Mirror Mage outmaneuvered Ravael the Silent Spark, reflecting every flame and landing a spectacular knockback spell that sent Ravael crashing into the arena wall.
Kaelivra the Silver Serpent effortlessly overwhelmed Anya the Beastcaller, her twin scimitars and venom magic slicing through spectral beasts with surgical precision.
Three clean victories.
And just like that, the crowd was roaring again.
"FOUR REMAIN! THORNE! THE GENTLEMAN HEXER! JUNO THE MIRROR MAGE! KAELIVRA, THE SILVER SERPENT! WHO WILL CLAIM GLORY, GOLD, AND THE ARTIFACT?!"
Back in the VIP stands, Alaric leaned forward, eyes wide. "Oh man… it's getting serious now."
Lys squinted at the field. "Weird how we all got this strong so fast."
Renna shrugged. "Isekai perks? Don't question it."
Cael muttered, "No, really though. Why are we this strong?"
No one had an answer.
Below, Thorne cracked his knuckles, already grinning at whoever was next.
Just as the colosseum crowd was peaking in hype, the announcer's voice suddenly cracked through the magical megaphone, full of panic and static.
"—ATTENTION!! The tournament is officially postponed due to an urgent threat. The Demon Army has been spotted marching straight toward Slamtown! Repeat! The Demon Army is—"
"OH, COME ON!" Thorne shouted from the middle of the stage, hands flung in the air.
Up in the VIP stands, Alaric dropped his meat skewer. "Bro. Seriously?! Right before the semi-finals?!"
Cael stood up, brushing his coat like he was about to audition for a hero movie. "I got this."
"What do you mean you got this?" Lys narrowed her eyes, holding a drink in one hand and a dagger in the other.
Cael jumped onto the VIP rail dramatically and shouted down at the colosseum.
"DON'T CANCEL THE TOURNAMENT! WE'LL TAKE CARE OF THE DEMON ARMY!"
Silence.
Then a very slow clap started.
Thorne joined in. "HECK YEAH! That's the energy I like!"
Alaric threw on his cloak and grinned. "We're overdue for an army fight anyway."
The city gates creaked open and a colorful army of chaotic energy marched out, led by our four misfits glowing with overconfidence.
They were joined by a motley crew of eliminated contestants:
Ironbelly the Unmoving, polishing his axes: "Haven't had a good warm-up in years."
Anya the Beastcaller, riding her translucent gorilla, Jello: "LET'S EAT SOME DEMONS—WAIT, can you eat demons?"
Tundra, silently freezing everything he walked past.
Ravael, holding up his chalkboard. "It's fun out here."
Other randos Cael didn't even remember from round one.
The announcer wiped sweat from his brow and cleared his throat again.
"Well... while our contestants deal with the demon crisis, let it be known: the semi-final match-ups will be…"
"Thorne the Lightning Spear vs. Juno the Mirror Mage!"
"The Gentleman Hexer vs. Kaelivra the Silver Serpent!"
"May the odds not be interrupted by ANOTHER apocalypse!"
The group stood in formation, staring at the distant dust cloud of the approaching demon army. But instead of prepping spells or forming battle plans…
"I can't believe we're missing Thorne's fight," Cael groaned, slumped on a floating rock like he was on a picnic.
"Right?" Lys sighed, balancing a dagger on her finger. "I wanted to see him finally get his ego flattened. That Mirror Mage looked like he does taxes with spells. Dangerous."
Renna pouted, her dagger twirling. "Yeah… it's no fun saving the world and missing the tournament."
"Thorne better not win off pure muscle again," Alaric muttered.
DING DING DING!
"Match Start!" boomed the announcer.
Thorne, already crackling with blue lightning, twirled his spear once and BLASTED toward Juno like a thunderbolt from a cannon.
Meanwhile, Juno stood in the center of the ring, one hand behind his back, the other adjusting his scarf. Around him floated five shimmering crystal mirrors, orbiting like lazy moons.
"Oh, this'll be fun," Juno smirked.
Thorne lunged forward, lightning-boosted speed pushing his body faster than most eyes could follow—but the moment his spear thrust forward—
CLANG!
His own lightning spear bounced off a mirror and launched him backward, flipping once before skidding to a stop.
"Reflected?" Thorne blinked, confused.
Juno chuckled. "You swing first. I counter last. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
Thorne cracked his knuckles, lightning sparking between his fingers. "Nah. Sounds like overthinking."
With a roar, Thorne launched again—this time zigzagging midair to confuse the mirror positions. He hurled his spear like a javelin. Juno smirked, tilted his head—and a mirror swooped in just in time to catch the spear and launch it back.
Thorne ducked. "Okay okay… that was kinda cool."
Suddenly, a flash of light burst from behind him—one of the mirrors had duplicated Thorne's earlier charge and was sending a mirror-image version right at him!
Thorne skidded to the side, just barely dodging his own ghostly lightning self. "Alright. This guy's annoying."
Juno casually walked sideways, mirrors floating behind him like a smug entourage. "Your mistake was thinking brawn could beat brains."
"Your mistake," Thorne grinned, "was thinking I care."
He clapped his hands together, charging his whole body with lightning until sparks shot off his elbows and knees like mini rockets. "Strategy's great and all, but can it beat PURE SPEED AND VIOLENCE?!"
BOOM!
Thorne vanished in a bolt of blue—slamming into the mirror wall head-on and shattering one.
Juno's eyes widened.
"Hah! You thought I'd stop, but I'll BREAK THROUGH THEM ALL!" Thorne yelled like a man who had never once opened a chessboard.
He blitzed again, this time bouncing from mirror to mirror, breaking some, getting deflected by others, but refusing to stop. He was basically playing pinball—with his own body.
Finally, Juno raised both hands. "Okay, okay! This is getting out of control—"
But it was too late. Thorne rebounded off one last mirror and uppercutted Juno so hard the mage went flying upward and smashed into the ceiling before tumbling back to the arena floor in a puff of glittery shame.
BOOM!
CRACKLE!
The last remaining mirror exploded in a shower of sparks.
Silence. Then—
"AND THE WINNER… MOVING ON TO THE FINAL MATCH… THORNE THE LIGHTNING SPEAR!!"
The crowd went wild.
Thorne stood in the middle of the ring, panting, arms out, grinning wide. "I think I did something smart by accident."
As the crowd roared, thunder and glass shards still settling in the ring, Juno lay flat on the cracked stone floor—arms sprawled, scarf flopped dramatically over his face.
After a few seconds of silence, a muffled chuckle rose from under the fabric.
"Heh… seriously?"
Thorne, still crackling slightly with leftover electricity, tilted his head. "You good, mirror guy?"
Juno peeled his scarf off his face and let out a laugh. "I didn't even get the chance to duplicate any of your magic. You ended it so fast I didn't finish my opening chant!"
He sat up with a wince, brushing mirror dust off his coat. "I had illusions ready. Reflection traps. An actual plan, y'know?"
Thorne grinned, walking over and offering a hand. "You had a plan. I had vibes."
Juno laughed again, grabbing his hand. "Gods above, you're terrifying."
Thorne hauled him up and gave him a friendly slap on the back that nearly knocked him over again. "Same to you, spellboy. Those mirrors were brutal."
Juno gave a mock bow. "Next time, I'll try casting before getting punched through reality."
They both exited the stage to cheers, one looking slightly dazed, the other glowing with chaotic victory.
The battlefield was a complete mess.
Explosions flared in every direction. Spells and arrows streaked across the sky like some kind of demented light show. A demon got suplexed into a cabbage cart. Another was getting chased by Anya's spectral gorilla "Jello," who had somehow stolen a helmet and was beating it like a drum.
Alaric sliced through a horned beast with his sword, then turned to Cael, ducking a fireball. "Do you think Thorne's fighting now?"
Cael, shielding his face from a dust explosion, groaned. "Probably! Knowing him, he's doing something ridiculous and cool while we're out here sweating like NPCs in a side quest."
Renna dropkicked a flying demon mid-air with her dagger glowing, then landed in a roll. "I swear, if he gets another over-the-top win and we miss it—"
Lys loosed a wind arrow that exploded into a cluster of wind, vaporizing a small cluster of imps. "We better get a play-by-play later. I want every dramatic line and all the slow-mo poses."
A demon leapt at them with a snarl.
Cael shouted "Not now, Jerry!"
He blasted it with a sigil-burst that launched it ten feet back into a haystack—which promptly exploded. Why? No one knows. Probably magic hay.
Nearby, the eliminated tournament contestants were fighting alongside them.
Renna huffed, "Okay, yes, we're holding the line, but at what cost?"
Alaric stabbed another demon, sparks flying. "The cost of missing Thorne getting absolutely wrecked, maybe!"
The group shared a moment of respectful silence for all the cool one-liners and badass poses they were definitely missing.
Then another demon horde screamed toward them.
Lys said "Ugh. I better get a full recap. And a snack."
Renna added "And a seat upgrade when we go back."
Alaric also added "And merch."
Cael added even more "We're gonna need matching shirts."
With a collective yell, they charged forward again, defending Slamtown like champions… just very grumpy ones.