Garden Of The Abyss

It was the tiniest shift in temperature as he passed a certain threshold, but it was enough for him to halt his travel forward as he pressed his toes into the stand--leaping back with his powerful legs as he retreated just as fast as he came.

"Why'd he stop?"

Fedrin placed his hand to his chin as he posed this question, hoping for it to be answered by the others spectating alongside him.

"Good question...he noticed something about that spell, didn't he?"

As always, Ren looked to Jae-Seong for an answer--who was keenly observing something before a smile replaced his intentful stare.

"I see...I've got to hand it to her--that's a smart counter for someone like her opponent there."

"What is it?"

"Look closely at the area around her."

Jae-Seong's words pointed both the high elf and Ren's eyes towards Iris as they squinted to see whatever it was the curly-haired, frivolous man had discovered.

Upon further inspection, it became clear that the space around the girl seemed to contort; moving in waves obscured by heat. By the fluctuation of the heat waves, it was clear it existed in a spherical capacity.

"Heat...I think I get it...she's surrounding herself with incredibly hot temperatures so he can't get close."

Ren deciphered the nature of the magecraft, watching as Ju-Long landed onto his two feet--keeping his distance from the burning territory.

Emanating from his forehead, steam rose as a burn mark was left in the center of his forehead--though the resolve in his eyes didn't change. It was only for a split second, but just that small time frame allowed the heated domain to singe his skin.

"Brilliant. Your heat is magnificent; there exists few things in this world that can taint my skin. If you should lose, find solace in that one truth."

In the capital of the illustrious Jinyue, Shanyao, the annual Oriru tournament is held--"The Grand Plummet".

Reaching nearly to the heavens, a pillar formed of stone stood, perfectly carved into a circular ring with two men standing atop it. Surrounding this unorthodox arena was a crowd as bustling as an entire nation in their anticipation of the final bout of the yearly competition.

"Amazing...how the hell did they build something so goddamn tall?"

Asking this to no particular person, a man clearly not from Jinyue or Akitein muttered as he looked up at the towering structure of natural elements with his curious, verdant irises. Standing next to him, a clearly excited young man looked to him with eyes as vibrant as a child's own.

"You don't know!? It's one of the greatest honors one could receive in their life! "Heaven Guides"--it's an elite group of gaia mages who manipulate the structure of the arena! They increase its height more and more depending on the competitors' ranks...this is a battle of Endai! Feast your eyes!"

"You're really into this, aren't you?"

The man asked with an almost cynical tone--but still, it was a marvellous site. Seeing past his own excitement, the excited young man with messy, jet black locks and circular-rimmed glasses blinked as he stared at the foreign man who wore unique garments.

"...You're not from here or Akitein, are you? Are you a northerner?"

If it wasn't the middle-aged man's salt-and-pepper hair that stood out, it was his lavish, glistening garments made of a silver material that resembled something an adventurer would wear; equipped with leather straps and all.

"Something like that. So...who's the big guy there? With the head of gold."

"Really!? That's Ju-Long, The Mountain! He's the representative gladiator of Jinyue! He's invincible--unbeatable!"

"Huh. Interesting."

The lack of enthusiasm from the middle-aged man was perplexing to the young spectator, but alas, his focus was on the bout that was soon to begin.

Atop the high-reaching pillar of stone and rock, the two competitors squared off, getting into position.

"It's an honor to face you, Ju-Long. Let the better gladiator claim triumph."

Brushing salt across his palms as an act of benevolence, the large, broad man with a head of hair separated into three ponytails spoke with a bowed head.

"Yeah. The honor is mutual, Kyodai."

Though he reciprocated the feeling of respect, a look of indifferent boredom inhabited the eyes of the golden-haired, elite Oriru gladiator. When it came to size, Kyodai was just shy of the mammoth of a man's own stature, but held a more round, broad build with massive hands that could easily grapple his foes. In comparison to the tan-skinned Ju-Long, the Endai hailing from Akitein had a more pale complexion with keen, light-gray eyes.

Atop the Endai pillar, friendships aren't cultivated. As much as we may respect one another, it is an unbreakable truth. That's the nature of a bout that is only won by the death of the lesser gladiator. It's a lonely path to honor, indeed, Ju-Long thought.

When it came to a battle of Endai, a high-ranking match that resulted in the death of the loser, no referee oversaw the match. Though it was often explained as a sign of respect to allow the legendary gladiators to control their own battle, in truth, no normal man could exist between such a clash.

Getting into position with stances low to the flooring made of smoothed stone, coated with sand, it was when both their hands met the ground that their life-or-death clash would begin. Sitting at the bottom of the grand stage were an array of drummers, pounding the instruments with a crescendo that built the anxious crowd up.

Gong. Gong. Gong.

With each hit, the stillness of the two competitors who exhibited utmost focus became a riveting wait for the thousands of spectators. Each hit of the drums matched with his heartbeat; watching for the slightest, most infinitesimal movement from his opponent.

It isn't size, technique, or flexibility that decides the outcome of a match; it's patience and reaction, Ju-Long thought.

Picking up in speed, the drumming increased in intensity before finally--Kyodai's fingertips grazed the ground. In that fraction of a second, Ju-Long seized the opportunity, taking complete initiative with a violent charge forward that shook the sky-high pillar to its very foundation.

As quick as it started, it was already over; there was no hesitation, no emotion, and no remorse to be found from the golden-haired Endai.

With his shoulder bash famous across both Jinyue and Akitein, he sent his opponent flying off the cloud-reaching ring. In that moment, existing between fractions of a second when Kyodai realized the soles of his feet no longer stood upon solid ground, his expression turned to shock--then to horror.

It wasn't the first time Ju-Long had witnessed this very same reaction--not by a long shot. A thunderous response unleashed from the crowd--cheering and applauding his swift victory as Kyodai plummeted to his death--a sight so ingrained into the culture that the spectators didn't bat so much as an eye.

"Talk about ruthless."

The foreigner muttered, scratching his head as he looked around at the cheerful look placed on the expressions of the people from Jinyue.

Standing atop the Endai Pillar, Ju-Long looked up to the brisk clouds as his victory amongst many others settled in.

I am the strongest. I was born like this; gifted with such natural strength, the world was served to me on a silver platter. What meaning is there in life if you've already reached the heavens? He thought.

After the festival came to an end, the revered Oriru wrestler began to take his leave home--only to be stopped by a man clearly not from Jinyue or Akitein, holding a head of black and white hair, wearing odd, silver garments completely foreign to Ju-Long's eyes.

He's not from around here, Ju-Long thought.

"Who are you? A fan?"

"Just a bit of an adventurer, I guess. I saw your match--you're pretty strong."

"Thanks."

Attempting to continue on his path down the hallway exclusive for competitors, Ju-Long had his path blocked by the man who was half his size. To stand in the way of an Oriru wrestler, an Endai at that, was provocation at the highest level; clear rage filled the stern, gray eyes of the wrestler as he looked down at the foreigner.

"Move."

"Calm down there, big guy. I've got a proposal for you."

"Proposal?"

The contempt faded from Ju-Long's eyes as he was intrigued by the man; especially by the fearlessness shown in his demeanor--not swaying in the slightest at the clearly imposing, powerful figure before him.

Adjusting the collar of his silver coat, the man looked up at Ju-Long with his eyes as blue and foggy as a glacier, holding a slight smile.

"That's right; you're strong, but I bet you're pretty bored, aren't you? I heard you've never lost a single match in your tenure as an Oriru wrestler...twenty years, is it? I bet you're itching for a challenge."

I had never been the type of man to make rash decisions like that, but it was like he was a messenger to my stagnant soul. "Purgatory" a trial in which only the strongest can survive, a realm of continuous, merciless combat...what better heavenly reprieve could I ask for?

As the representative Endai of Jinyue, this will be my greatest accomplishment, the supreme honor for my homeland--I will be the champion of Purgatory.