A Theory on Godhood: An Overlord Story

Chapter 65: Lamb to the Slaughter

Staging Area of the Imperial Arena

A few days later

"Are you feeling alright? There would be no shame in backing out if you so chose."

"And risk surrendering the opportunity to fight the strongest opponent of my career? I would sooner drop my weapon and banish myself! I could not bear to face my village if I did such a thing."

Osk sighed in exasperation. "...Go-Gin, surely there is a better way to go about this. I can see your legs shaking!"

Go-Gin, the Martial Lord of Arwinter's premier area, the strongest of his generation, was indeed quivering like a leaf. The massive War Troll chuckled at the irony of the situation, knowing that every warrior that faced him likely felt the exact same as he did now.

It was true. He was absolutely terrified. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to run, to run as long as it would take to reach his village and then some. Had it been anyone else and any other situation, the idea of backing out would have shattered all trust the War Troll held in Osk. To ask such a question would be a grave insult.

He could feel the aura of his opponent all the way on the other side of the arena. Feeling it from this distance, after Osk had come to him to describe his next fight in great detail... the doubt he held towards the authenticity of those details was dashed.

To describe the level of strength that came from the one named Suratan defied explanation. It was the sort of pressure that a mountain might give if it could walk, the strength of the earth while it shook with rage. And there was, indeed, so much rage.

It was almost unfathomable the amount of bloodlust he felt, but he knew it to be true.

He could not blame Osk in the slightest.

"I am in top form. The day has come for me to meet my match, and I would sooner go out with my head held high than my tail between my legs," he said.

Osk smacked his lips. "... It's been nearly ten years since we met, you know? A decade of battles and triumph. To say that I am proud of your prowess would be an understatement."

"Do not dwell. It does not suit you. Let's go."

Go-Gin rose from his seat. He stretched his shoulders, feeling his armor creak under its own weight. He picked up his club, hefting the trusty weapon that brought him victory against the previous Martial Lord, Kullervo Palantynen, or the "Rotting Wolf".

He and his sponsor were currently sitting in the staging area of the Arena, where many warriors would impatiently wait their turns before they were turned loose in the arena. He had his own area, befitting the current Martial Lord.

How many times had he lusted after the call of battle, ready to face his next opponent and claim hard-won glory, only to be faced with disappointment?

Too many times. As a War Troll, not many humanoids could face him equally. The closest had been Rotting Wolf, and even then, he still won handily. Go-Gin could not bear the boredom of being the strongest after so many years, hence why he initially agreed to his fight.

Walking towards the gate, his legs locked up. Osk noticed and waited patiently with a sympathetic look. "There is no shame. Just think, you might still have enough time to find a wife."

He barked a laugh. "Perhaps... but then I would need to trek back to my home village and find her. I will not claim a human wife for myself, for that is disgusting. What sort of woman would wish for a War Troll as her husband? And what sort of War Troll would claim her in return?"