The noise was deafening as Ethan walked down the main hallway inside the arena. The crowd had clearly gathered early, and it sounded like the entire city had shown up for the festivities. Their cheers echoed through the massive stone colosseum, and Ethan could almost feel the excitement and nervousness permeating the air.

  All of the teams competing were currently lined up in the main hall, which was apparently some kind of tradition. Townspeople were required to move through quickly, but given just enough time to pass along gifts of thanks for the Hunters that protected them. Ethan was impressed by the assembled groups, having seen few of them together like this.

  There were roughly a dozen teams competing, and he’d spotted individuals around town before, especially in the Hunter’s guild. This was different, however, as they all wore their full battle attire, and were basically standing like they were living posters for superhero movies.

  Ethan didn’t know most of the groups, though apparently many had been around for years. He spent too much time training, out of the city, or otherwise occupied by his many concerns to cross paths with the groups. Most had likewise been focused on hunting and building up points for the leaderboard, and the rivalry between competitors seemed to limit how frequently they connected.

  Still, it was quite the spectacle. The team names were written on stylized signs hammered into the walls above them, and Ethan took them all in. The Bluebacks were four heavily armored warriors who’d actually painted themselves blue, and stood stoically in a line like chess pieces. The Wrathful Eight were all women, and looked as angry as they sounded. Strangely there were seven of them, which sounded like a story the serious group didn’t want to tell.

  He continued to pass the groups, each with their own quirks. Some displayed their Familiars proudly, even having Familiars in common like the Lutum Lads. The dinosaur-like mud monsters could barely stand in the hallway, but actually seemed to be enjoying themselves. The groups were arrayed by position on the leaderboard, and as Ethan finally reached the end of them, he saw the three teams that were ahead of the Brightsouls–minus the prince’s of course, who weren't participating.

  First was Arrowhead, five Archers and a single Vanguard who was twice Valanor’s size in his massive, heavy armor. Next was the Pursuers, who were the longtime rivals of the final group, the Firstbloods. The former were a group of commoners that came up slowly, managing to form Bonds one way or another, then helped each other to do the same. The latter were the foremost noble team, coming from the most prominent families in Corvale.

  The two had been at odds for years, and Ethan had been told that theirs was the match to watch. The Pursuers were the only group entirely made up of commoners, and their equipment showed it. It was practical, and well taken care of, but the five members weren’t flashy, and judging by their weapons used the most traditional tactics they could.

  By contrast, the Firstbloods looked like they’d all bought premium skins with their parent’s credit cards. Their weapons and armor were elaborate, and unique. There was no shared theme amongst the members, and the group of five looked more like superheroes on a teamup than Hunters. Ethan knew that was false, however.

  They were uniformly rich, had mostly inherited their bonds, but were also trained since childhood. They might fight like individuals, but each was deadly in their own way. Raw skill and power apparently replaced teamwork–at least at this level–and they were often near the top of the leaderboard, having even entered the Forgotten City the previous year.

  Ethan just moved quietly past them all, his mind too focused on his own match tomorrow to do more than assess them casually. As he walked to the stands he was distracted by the occasional mutterings of ‘the one with the scars’ and ‘Assassin’, and quickened his pace. It looked like he might need to stop wearing his white coat if he wanted any kind of anonymity.

  Moving up a flight of stone steps, he spotted Valanor easily. They’d purchased seats ahead of time, knowing how full the arena would be, and Ethan hastily joined the large, serious man.

  “Did you see the other Hunter teams?” Ethan asked by way of greeting.

  Valanor barked a laugh. “Preening downstairs? Hard to miss.”

  “It doesn’t make you wish we were participating?”

  “Not at all. There are many benefits to the Grand Tournament. Monster numbers and Notices drop, and the people feel safer. But the arena is purely for show. We help no one today, merely aggrandize the Hunters who should be more concerned with duty.”

  “You need a sugary snack,” Ethan said.

  Valanor rolled his eyes, but that made them land on a man selling various sweets between the aisles. “Perhaps it could lighten my mood,” the knight admitted, and a few minutes later was chomping on a bun dripping with honey. “You know,” he said between bites, “people deserve a break from the stresses of monster Hunting from time to time.”

  Ethan laughed, then turned his attention to the sandy arena floor, wondering when the first match would start.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” a deep but feminine voice was calling. Ethan looked up to see Selina squeezing her large frame past a crowd of people desperately trying to give her space. Cara moved in her wake, having much less trouble given her smaller stature. They both hastily made their way to join Ethan and Valanor, and as they grew close it became clear why the crowd had been upset.

  “Is that monster blood?” he asked. “I mean, underneath the filth and mud. And over the filth and mud. Did you come straight from a Hunt?”

  “Straight from many Hunts!” Selina said proudly, then plopped down next to Ethan. “I have two new abilities, Ethan! Wait until you see me out there again. Even Cara was impressed!”

  He leaned forward to look at the slightly less dirty elf. “Is that true? Is our little Runemistress growing up?”

  “She was adequate,” Cara replied.

  “See!?” Selina said proudly.

  “High praise,” Ethan responded with a grin. He turned to look around the stands, his eyes landing on a lavishly decorated and walled off section next to where the royals were now appearing. It was conspicuously empty. “Where are the Arinaens?”

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  Valanor glanced up. “I doubt we’ll see them. They’ve been hiding in the Dunebreaker for months. Thavin has apparently left once or twice for a monster Hunt, but we only know that because of the Notices being completed. I don’t like imagining what they could have been doing all this time.”

  Ethan could only nod in agreement. He was counting on both the prince and princess being here tomorrow, but for now all he could do was muse on what schemes they’d been hatching in their ship. Thankfully King Rothevaro leaping dramatically into the center of the enormous arena distracted him. The large man raised his hands for silence, and the cheering crowd quickly fell silent.

  “Citizens of Corvale, and the great nation of Viridus, welcome!” The cheering returned, and the king allowed it for a few moments before gesturing again for quiet. His voice somehow boomed across the arena, though Ethan couldn’t see any device responsible.

  “We are gathered here for the one-hundred and eighty-seventh Grand Tournament! This tradition unites us, brings safety to our realm, and stokes the fires that burn within each of our brave Hunters. Today, we will see those warriors in action. They will Hunt monsters, and even one another for the delight of us all, and a greater chance at the rewards the Tournament offers!”

  A small group of palace retainers hurried out from one of the doors, each carrying a small pedestal. They hastily arranged them in a semi-circle around the king, then backed away respectfully. Rothevaro took his time walking up to each one, and placing an item from his inventory on each.

  “As always, we offer relics and treasures from our own royal vault as prizes for those competing today, and greater still to those who dare enter the Forgotten City.” He began to walk around the items, gesturing at each. “The Tortured Blade, once belonging to my uncle. The Anklets of Annihilation, worn by my grandmother long ago.”

  The man apparently had quite an impressive list of ancestors. Ethan idly wondered if they’d outgrown the equipment or died in them, as he still found it challenging to get clear answers on the rules of succession in this world. No one alive had seen anyone but the current king on the throne, and even Selina’s records tended to skip over the ‘how’ in terms of new rulers.

  At last the king had finished, and returned to the center of the semi-circle, where he brought out a final object that he held aloft. It was a cube of gleaming metal, and though Ethan couldn’t make out the details from where he sat, he remembered the clockwork appearance and golden gears from when he’d spotted the item in the palace.

  “Finally, the Grand Treasure itself!” the king declared. “As many of you know, this marvelous walking city was not the only magical object our Champions have left for us over the ages. We were also gifted this: the Fable Cube. Its powers cannot be known until it is Bonded, but it is without doubt priceless.”

  The sun gleamed off the cube as the king slowly turned to show the whole of the arena. “As always, it remains the prize for any Team powerful enough, and with the will necessary to reach the center of the Forgotten City. Perhaps this year, we will finally see what secrets this legendary item holds!”

  The crowd erupted again, and the king seemed to bask in the cheers for a long moment before returning the objects to his inventory one by one. The aides took the pedestals and hurried out as soon as he had.

  “Now, without further delay, let the Hunts begin!” More cheering as the king effortlessly leaped back to his box–more than a hundred feet at least–to land lightly, then sit on a grand chair between his two children. Another man ran to the center, and began announcing the order of the matches for the day.

  There were quite a few scheduled, but truthfully Ethan wasn’t especially interested in any particular one. He’d come to get an understanding of how the Arena worked, and found his mind drifting to his plans until the first match began.

  It was a simple scenario, being a normal monster Hunt with no twists other than the environment. The Lutum Lads were all lined up in the center of the arena, each riding their dinosaur-like Familiars as if they were camels. Finally Ethan leaned forward in anticipation as the arena came to life.

  He could feel the magic humming as the long-dormant colosseum showed itself for what it really was. The first thing to happen was a magical dome forming over the football field-sized fighting area. The dome would simultaneously protect the crowd, while also apparently acting like the world’s biggest jumbotron. Valanor explained that it would occasionally shift from what looked like clear glass to a magical screen, showcasing the most interesting parts–or difficult to see–parts of the battle.

  “There’s a lot of different environments,” the knight said. “Some make it nearly impossible to actually witness what’s happening. Dense forests, dark caves, and so forth. The dome will let the crowd see all the action regardless.”

  Next came the real magic, and the sand revealed itself to be far more than that. The whole arena vibrated as it began to shift and move, slowly forming into shapes that solidified, and were soon indistinguishable from the real world. This time it was a series of tiny islands, with shallow water between, a good match for the Lutum lads.

  “There’ll be both real, and conjured monsters released in there,” Valanor said, eyes locked on the water which had begun to churn and bubble. Ethan watched as well, fascinated as the Lutum began charging forward. He didn’t recognize every creature that had been hiding in the small lake that had been sand only minutes before, but the results spoke for themselves.

  Tentacles burst out, lashing and grabbing. Something like a massive alligator did the same, its enormous jaws clamping around one of the strider’s long necks, and pulling the Familiar and Hunter under. There was even something that looked like a shark with two heads–one on either end of its body, and the incongruously built creature would leap out to snap at anything that got close.

  The battle was certainly entertaining, though the stakes were largely artificial. “Part of what makes the magic so damned expensive,” Valanor explained, “is that it can be used to prevent injuries beyond a certain threshold to the participants. The monsters and Familiars are at risk, but injured Hunters will be pulled from the arena before things get serious.”

  The words proved prophetic, as only a few minutes later the shark monster managed to leap in an arc over one of the striders, jaws clamping around the mounted Hunter as it did so. The moment it crashed back into the water, however, the Familiar disappeared and an eruption of sand reached up to surround the injured man, before disappearing back under the arena.

  Despite what appeared to be a rocky start, the Lutum Lads eventually won their match. They grouped up, and two of them fired blasts of heat into the water, forcing the monsters out and making them easier targets. While the immense alligator–which turned out to have a fish tail in place of legs–took some time for them to wear down, the opening match was clearly meant for more entertainment than suspense.

  The next several matches were similarly one-sided, though not without injuries and a few twists. Ethan watched a battle in a volcano, a desert, and even what was apparently meant to be the surface of the moon. It made him grateful to know he’d only be moving through a jungle in his upcoming duel.

  After the fourth match was yet again won by the Hunters, Valanor confided that the early games weren’t meant to be truly challenging. It gave teams with no real hope of reaching the Forgotten City enough points to look respectable, and the prizes given out would often be enough to improve their chances in future Tournaments. While the duel took place the next day, there would be a third day of fighting where the battles were far more serious.

  The only exception was the final match of the day, which was the first time two teams of Hunters would face off. It was meant to be the event that indicated a shift in the tenor of the battles, and it certainly did that.

  The two teams entered from different sides of the arena, which was quickly forming into a simple, rocky field. The Firstbloods, proud nobles in the finest gear, stared down the Pursuers, commoners with a common cause. Oddly the arena grew quiet rather than loud, and Ethan could sense the very real rivalry–even hatred–from the Hunters below.

  When they charged, it was difficult to believe this wasn’t a true battle to the death.