The Primordials: Lustless Prides (Book Three)

Chapter VII: Strength of Will

      Inside the dome, a professional SVVL tournament was being held in a stadium hosted by the Pride Primordial. The stadium was oval-shaped, with its seats circling a giant rectangular stage that served as the fight arena.

      I found this strange because it indicated only one fight would go on at a time, which I imagined would take forever.

      Once we could find a secluded spot to see the arena well enough, I saw dozens of men and women on one end of the fighting stage, each sweating and rising from the ground with looks of disappointment as if they had just been defeated.

      On the other side of the stage was a single throne made of grey stone with a large, orange banner hanging over it that read Arne the Unbreakable, and at the foot of it was a full-grown male lion that lay there casually sleeping through all of the commotion. Standing a few feet in front of the throne with their arms crossed was a six-foot-tall, muscular, yet somehow pretty, person wearing lion-skin clothing. Just from the air around them, I knew that was the Primordial we came for. They also had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a gaze that could stop a rhino in its tracks.

      Peering at the Primordial's wrist, I saw two dark rings indicating they had two cintracies at their disposal.

      "Here's the deal," Arne suddenly spoke loud enough to be heard from everywhere. "Since I'm unable to use even a fraction of my skills against this country's so-called 'greatest warriors,' I'm changing the rules. The winner of this tournament will be the one with the greatest mettle. The cash reward will go to the first person to approach me."

      Arne turned and walked toward the throne, each of their steps heavy enough to shake the ground yet not cause any damage.

      "I will not move since there is no longer a need to fight. However, I will aid you all slightly. You only simply need to walk up and stand before me," Arne announced after turning back toward the others and sitting.

      "The challenge begins now," Arne said while releasing a bit of their spirit energy to cover the entire stage.

      Most fighters immediately fell unconscious, but a handful or two remained standing.

      This incited confusion among the audience.

      "Hey, what just happened?"

      "I don't know. Is Arne doing it?"

      "Is it magic? Spirit energy? Is that possible?"

      "Whoa, to think they're withstanding it without rupture prisms. How're they doing that," I asked aloud.

      "Arne," Damien answered as he watched. "Arne's using their presence to boost the humans' pride to ensure they don't give up. Most of them had already reached their limits and fell —"

      "But the rest with stronger wills will continue to press forward," I concluded.

      "Unless they pass out," Trik inserted, eating some loukoumadea. Although I don't know where he got them from or when he left to get them.

      Within the next few minutes, each fighter was unconscious. Before any of the combatants could cross even half of the fighting stage, they all had passed out from Arne's overwhelming presence.

      "See," Trik stated.

      "Hey, do you mind taking me down there," I asked Damien.

      "Sure," he responded. The next thing I knew, I stood at the bottom of the fighting stage. Behind me stood Damien and Trik, out of view of everyone else.