The first thing Glen registered was the sll of sterile alcohol and synthetic lotus flowers. The second thing he registered was the warm soothing sensation of high tier healing magic washing over his shattered ribs.
He opened his eyes blinking against the harsh white fluorescent lights of the Colosseum dical bay. He was lying on a pristine diagnostic bed. His black combat jacket had been removed and his torso was wrapped in glowing bandages infused with restorative alchemy.
"You know for a guy who just beat an A Class Berserker you look like you got run over by a cargo train."
Glen turned his head slowly. His neck muscles were stiff but the agonizing pain from the arena was gone. Sitting in a plush visitor chair next to the bed was Caleb Sterling. The Gravity Mage had his feet kicked up on a dical tray and was casually tossing green grapes into his mouth.
"How long was I out?" Glen asked his voice raspy and dry.
Caleb tossed him a plastic bottle of water. "About two hours. The Association healers had to work overti on you. Burning your own life force to fuel a skill? That is insane Mcdonald. The dics said your internal organs were practically cooking themselves. If you had kept that dark armor active for a minute longer your ass would have been toast."
Glen sat up slowly unscrewing the cap and drinking the water. He opened his status window checking his core. The Abyssal Juggernaut Armor was resting safely in his fourth slot but the system warning was still flashing a dull red. The skill was too powerful for his Level 15 body to sustain without a massive mana pool. It was a trump card a final desperate asure not sothing he could use casually.
"Did I miss anything good?" Glen asked swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
"Just a bunch of B Class rookies swinging swords at each other" Caleb shrugged standing up and grabbing his wooden staff. "But my match is up next. And Isla is fighting right after . You should co watch. The VIP balcony has a great view and free snacks."
Glen grabbed a fresh black shirt from the dical supply closet and pulled it over his head. He strapped his twin silver swords to his back feeling the familiar comforting weight of the weapons.
They walked out of the dical bay and took a private elevator up to the competitor viewing balcony. The balcony hung over the arena offering a perfect unobstructed view of the white sand below. The stadium was still packed the crowd buzzing with residual adrenaline from Glen’s explosive match.
"Match Twenty Four" the announcer’s voice bood. "Caleb Sterling versus Thorne Vance."
Glen raised an eyebrow looking at Caleb. "Another Vance? Does the Valor Guild just breed these guys in a laboratory?"
"Thorne is Kaelen’s older cousin" Caleb sighed rubbing the back of his neck. "B Class Earth Mage. He is probably going to be very angry about what you did to his family na. I am going to have to deal with all his misplaced aggression."
"Try not to die" Glen smiled leaning against the glass railing.
"I will do my best" Caleb said waving lazily as he stepped onto the transport platform that lowered him down to the arena floor.
Down in the arena Thorne Vance was already waiting. He was a massive heavily armored man wielding a thick iron staff topped with a glowing brown crystal. He glared at Caleb his face twisted in a furious scowl.
"You are friends with that Mimic trash" Thorne spat slamming his staff into the sand. "I am going to crush you Sterling and then I am going to crush him."
Caleb stood fifty yards away leaning on his simple wooden staff. He looked like he was waiting for a bus. "Look Thorne I really do not want to get involved in your family drama. Can we just make this quick? I dont want to be stuck here looking at you all day."
The chanical chi echoed through the stadium.
"Begin."
Thorne roared channeling a massive amount of earth mana into his staff. The white sand beneath his feet erupted forming three massive jagged boulders the size of transport vehicles. He thrust his staff forward launching the boulders directly at Caleb with the speed of cannonballs.
Glen watched closely his eyes tracking the trajectory. A direct hit from those boulders would pulverize a normal human.
Caleb did not move. He did not chant a spell. He simply tapped the bottom of his wooden staff against the sand.
"Gravity x20" Caleb whispered.
The air around Thorne and the flying boulders suddenly warped. A massive invisible weight slamd down from the sky. The three massive boulders which were flying through the air at terrifying speeds instantly plumted straight down crashing into the sand and shattering into dust under their own multiplied weight.
Thorne Vance did not even have ti to scream. The twenty tis gravity multiplier hit his heavily armored body like a falling skyscraper. He was driven face first into the arena floor the reinforced stone beneath the sand cracking under the imnse pressure. His iron armor groaned and buckled pinning him completely flat.
Thorne struggled his face turning purple as he tried to lift his head but the gravity was absolute. He could not even lift a finger.
Caleb sighed walking slowly across the arena. He stopped right in front of the pinned Earth Mage.
"I told you I wanted to make this quick" Caleb said tapping Thorne lightly on the back of the head with his wooden staff.
Thorne passed out from the sheer physical strain.
"Match Twenty Four Winner" the announcer called out sounding slightly stunned by how fast it had ended. "Caleb Sterling."
Up on the balcony Glen let out a low whistle. He had known Caleb was dangerous but seeing Gravity Magic in action was terrifying. It was an absolute control skill. It did not matter how strong your armor was or how fast you could run if the fundantal laws of physics were turned against you.
Caleb was not just a relaxed funny guy. He was a monster hiding in plain sight.
The transport platform brought Caleb back up to the balcony. He looked completely unfazed not a single drop of sweat on his brow.
"Told you" Caleb smiled grabbing a pastry from the catering table. "I have a very low pain tolerance. I prefer not to get hit at all."
"Remind never to arm wrestle you" Glen said.
"Match Twenty Five" the announcer bood. "Isla Sinclair versus Marcus Thorne."
Glen leaned forward resting his arms on the glass railing. His dark eyes locked onto the arena floor. It was ti to see exactly what his partner could do in a fair fight.
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