281: The Rules of the Second Round
The pale girl wearing a dark magical girl’s outfit stood with her arms crossed, waiting impatiently for the next round to begin.
“You look frustrated,” an old, short, gray-haired man told the pale girl as he walked to her. He looked old enough to be somebody’s kind grandpa, balding, gray hairs at the sire, messy gray beard spreading across his jaw. Yet even his half-slouched posture carried with it the experience of the years that few possessed in this arena. He carried the same black armband as all the other participants, with a single-digit written on it with fiery paint.
“I’m fine!” the girl denied the obvious. “... This is taking too long!”
“You wish we had finished our game of Uglongs?” the old man asked.
“You wish that!” the girl said with a smirk. “I would have won anyway!”
“I certainly taught you all the tricks I knew in that game...”
“Y-you didn’t have to come here.”
“As if I’d miss the chance to spend a little more time with my favorite niece!”
“Yeah, right! I’m your only niece!”
“All the more reason for me to be protective!” the old man joked.
“This isn’t a game of Uglongs! I’ve surpassed you in every magic long ago! I’d be the one protecting you.”
“Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer’s returning enhanced voice could not go unnoticed by anyone in these mines. “It is time for the second round!”
“Ah, lucky you!” the old man laughed and turned to the announcer to listen to the rules of the next round.
“The next round will be straightforward!” the white hairball explained merrily. “Our lovely staff will bring forth a small set of items! The most important of those are the two wooden containers containing the fates of every participant in this arena!”
As the announcer explained this, the eighteen masked, shirtless staff members carried several tables, chests, and small barrels to a single small spot near the edge of the arena closest to the announcer’s platform that was far above.
As soon as the objects were placed in their designated spots, the men sat down with a distance from each other and turned to meditate in a lotus position, as they did once before. They summoned forth four great pillars of fire around the tables and chests and re-summoned the giant sphere above the arena that showed upon its screen anything that transpired within the arena that the controlling staff chose to show at an incredible magnification.
“Inside both of those containers rest a small set of balls. Wooden balls!” the announcer clarified. “In the first container are the balls containing the numbers of our sixteen remaining Participants. With a small added surprise to spice things up!”
This ‘surprise’ caused some indiscernible speculation among the spectators while the announcer continued.
“Our most senior overseer, John, will pull out the first ball to call out the first participant! That participant will then pull out a second ball to determine his opponent for a one-on-one duel to the death!”
This alone caused cheers amongst the crowds, excited for the bloodshed that would come when each of the unfortunate men and women pulled the one that they would have to kill or the one that would kill them.
“The second container contains the names of the weapons that our participants will be allowed to use to fight for their life! Each will have only one pull! Each can only use that weapon! Or their fists, if they’re particularly unlucky with their pull!”
Many laughed, making it clear that unfair fights were part of the appeal.
“Without further ado, John, please!” the announcer gestured to the old, scrawny masked man whose skin hung from his thin muscles.
John stepped before the first of the two tables on the arena and plunged his hand into the wooden container. He spun it around causing a rolling sound of wood scraping against wood. The man then extracted a small, orange-sized wooden ball out of the miniature bucket. With the help of his other hand, the masked man twisted the ball in opposite directions, unscrewing it and revealing a piece of paper within that fell on the table before him. The man picked up the light-blue piece of paper and held it high up, turning around so that everyone around him could see.
The giant magical screen locked in on the piece of paper the masked man held. On that paper, a single red symbol was clearly visible. A single number.
“Number Four!” the announcer shouted.
A short, elderly man took a step from his position amongst the scattered remaining participants, walking away from a cute girl he just conversed with.