With another snap of Ayra's fingers, I'm hurled into a massive arena, surrounded by vampires filling the stands. At least she had the decency to dress in a blue tunic straight out of a fantasy movie.
In front of stands a man twice my age and three tis my size, wearing the exact sa outfit. Perfect. That must be my opponent. I glance around—nothing. No weapons—no swords, no guns, not even a stick. And my armor? Completely missing. Am I seriously expected to fight this giant with my bare hands and no defense?
A small red orb of energy floats toward and slips into my ear like a glowing earpiece.
«Listen, Lyon! Don't you dare embarrass , or you'll regret it!» Ayra's voice hisses sharply in my ear, her irritation is transmitted perfectly through the glowing sphere.
«HOW AM I SUPPOSED NOT TO EMBARRASS YOU?!» I yell, my voice echoing through the arena. «That guy's arms are as big as I am!»
Ayra sighs heavily, exasperation dripping from her voice. «In our world, power isn't just about brute strength. It's about magical energy—mana—and how well you can wield it.»
«Oh, fantastic...» I reply, my voice thick with sarcasm. «So, if I even had the slightest chance of winning before, it's officially gone now. I don't even know how to wield magic!»
«Do you think I don't know that humans can't use magic?! The binding ritual wasn't just about turning you into my loyal little pet—it unlocked the dormant magical power in your soul. Why do you think I transferred so of my energy to you? It was the trigger to awaken your own!»
I let out a long, frustrated sigh. «Alright, fine. Just tell how to use this magical power.»
«Well, um...» Her voice falters, dropping to an awkward whisper. «...I don't know...»
«YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING !» I yell, stomping on the ground in frustration. «What kind of master are you?!»
«Watch your tone when you're talking to ! Rember, I'm your master!» she snaps back, her voice tinged with awkwardness. «And besides, you're my first familiar! I've never trained a familiar before. Just figure it out, and don't make look bad in front of my sister!»
«Your sister...?» I echo, blinking in confusion.
«Your opponent is the familiar of my younger sister, Levreshka Valakys, the seventh daughter of Drakhul Valakys. She only recently got her first familiar, so he should still be pretty weak. Second-to-last in the rankings. Defeating him shouldn't be too difficult.»
Judging by her unsteady tone, even she doesn't sound convinced herself.
«Let guess... you're last in the rankings,» I fire back, trying to sound confident while hiding the terror bubbling inside . «Fine. I'll figure sothing out.»
«Win this match, and I'll give you... a very special reward.» Her voice takes on a sultry tone, oozing suggestion and frying my brain on the spot.
A special reward? Maybe she'll press herself against again—completely naked—but this ti while I'm actually awake? Or... maybe sothing even more? If this guy's new, it'll be like fighting a regular human. I'll use the speed that got captain of my soccer team to take him down—or at least try to.
«Lyon Valakys, familiar of Princess Ayra Valakys, and Gerard Valakys, familiar of Princess Levreshka Valakys, take your positions in the center of the arena!»
The announcent echoes through the amphitheater, amplified as though by unseen gaphones.
My opponent and I begin walking toward each other, and... seeing him up close is even more terrifying. He's a walking mountain of muscle! If he gets his hands on , it's over. But with all that bulk, he can't be very fast, can he?
«So you're the newbie? You're so scrawny. Hope I don't hurt you too much.» Gerard looms over , mocking as he cracks his knuckles.
«And you... must be second-to-last,» I fire back, trying to sound confident while hiding the terror bubbling inside .
At the far ends of the arena, seated in opposite positions, are our masters. Behind is Ayra; behind him is a girl who looks much younger than Ayra. Pink curls, a shiny black dress so tight it gleams, a tail, and a pair of wings that look like plastic. In her hand is a black whip. She's basically a loli cosplaying as a succubus. That has to be Levreshka.
«Don't you dare lose again!» Levreshka yells furiously, swinging her whip wildly, the crack echoing against the arena floor. «If you lose and we drop to last place... one hundred lashes on broken glass! No, a thousand!»
Ayra is a stark contrast, seated elegantly on a golden throne, projecting an aura of cold detachnt. Just an aura, though. Through the red earpiece, I can hear her whispering prayers to so dark vampiric deity.
«You heard her, kid? Too bad for you, I have to take this seriously,» Gerard growls, exuding absolute confidence.
This guy struts around like he's the final boss of a video ga, but let's face it—other than , he's the weakest one here.
«A clash of titans, huh...» I mutter, warming up with quick stretches and a few jumps. Let's just hope I don't get utterly crushed.
The announcer's ethereal voice rings out once more: «Let the battle begin!»
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