Tyler and the others sat in the spectator seats of the Ga Arena, perched high on the third floor of the massive circus tent. Unlike the chaotic first floor or the illusion-filled second, this level was stark, structured—yet equally unsettling. The entire floor had been converted into an arena, with magical spotlights shifting colors over a massive central stage encased in retractable steel panels.
Rows of seats ford a circular balcony around the central stage, where masked immortal practitioners and a few rugged-looking pirates filtered in, their cloaks fluttering and weapons hidden—or barely hidden—beneath layers of enchanted fabrics. Though there weren’t many spectators yet, it was clear this place usually hosted packed crowds. The event had been announced hastily, just to amuse the Clown’s new guests.
That alone was a chilling thought.
The Clown appeared out of nowhere, materializing in a puff of confetti and maniacal laughter, before plopping down in a seat cushioned with bright red velvet. His painted grin seed wider than usual.
Tyler gave him a nod and leaned back. This wasn’t the kind of entertainnt he was used to, but it was better to observe silently than stand out.
The Ring Master, clad in black-and-gold robes with eyes like dying embers, stepped onto the stage. His voice echoed clearly through the magically amplified arena.
"Welco, one and all, to today’s special show!" he announced, whipping the air. The familiar blue lion cub that followed him leaped onto the platform, growing into a massive beast with every step. "Since this was organized quickly, we’ll only be holding three gas today."
The lion let out a thunderous growl, pacing the arena as the crowd watched, half in awe and half in fear. It is using skill which affects Spiritual Consciousness.
"As always, the participants are... the slaves," the Ring Master continued with a smile too wide to be kind. "And rember, should they win even one of the gas, their freedom shall be granted."
He cracked his whip again. "Let the gas begin!"
The steel panels around the stage hissed and began retracting, folding themselves with unnatural grace. As they vanished into the floor, they revealed several slave contestants—n and won of various races, from humans to beastkin to elves—standing in tense anticipation.
At the very center stood a massive, ancient-looking scale made of bronze and bone. Each side of the scale was covered with thick cloth, hiding what lay beneath.
"The ga is simple," the Ring Master said. "All contestants must form teams of two. One will beco the chooser. The other, the judge."
There was a mont of chaos as the slaves hurried to pair up, whispering quickly, trying to decide who to trust. Within a few minutes, all had chosen their partners.
"Now, here are the rules," the Ring Master declared, standing atop his lion mount. "Each team’s chooser must select one side of the scale—left or right."
He paused dramatically.
"If the chooser selects the left side, then both mbers of the team are set free. If they choose the right side, only they go free—while their partner remains a slave."
The audience shifted, murmurs spreading like wildfire.
Tyler’s eyes narrowed. "What a twisted setup..."
Back on the stage, the slaves had made their decisions. One by one, the choosers vanished behind curtains that led to the base of the scale, entering enclosed chambers to choose the side.
The Ring Master grinned. "But that’s not all! The judges will not know their partner’s decision. Instead, they will choose which side—left or right—shall be annihilated. Not by side na, no—by quantity!"
He raised a finger. "The judges must choose whether to eliminate the side with the greater number of practitioners... or the lesser. Think wisely."
Gasps spread through the arena.
"Of course," he added, "if the chooser picked the right side and ends up on the eliminated scale, well—bad luck. Their selfishness will be their end. Which ans you guys , the judges , atleast gets freedom."
Tyler muttered under his breath, "So basically, they’re playing a psychological ga... Trust, betrayal, sacrifice, and selfishness. The circus really knows how to twist people’s hearts."
Beside him, Lily crossed her arms. "This crew is dangerous. manipulators. This isn’t a ga—it’s emotional torture wrapped in a circus act."
Mathilda looked unimpressed. "What’s the point of this? It’s boring."
Mana yawned and stretched her arms. "Agreed. I expected more explosions or beast fights."
"Yeah... Give us sothing spicy. Like a sexual ga or sothing—ouch!"
Mathilda yelped as soone smacked the back of her head.
She turned around, eyes blazing. "Who hit !?"
Tyler, Lily, Mana, and even Darla all raised their hands in perfect unison, like guilty children in a classroom.
"Traitors," Mathilda hissed, rubbing her scalp.
. The judges remained outside, looking visibly more nervous. The pressure was on them now—to pick life or death, based on nothing but probability and blind faith in their partner’s morality.
On the left side of the scale, a few faint glows indicated activations—so had chosen the left. On the right, slightly more sparks blinked.
"They can’t see the exact numbers," Tyler noted. "Just the idea that one side has more... or less."
Lily leaned in. "It forces them to judge based on instinct. Or desperation."
The Ring Master’s voice returned. "Judges! Make your choice. Choose: will you destroy the side with more... or less?"
Silence.
Then slowly, each judge walked toward the glowing stones on the platform. One by one, they placed their hands on a crystal, indicating their decision.
A loud chi echoed as the results locked in.
The stage dimd. Magic surged. A countdown began from ten.
As the final number dropped, a flash of searing light erupted.
The covers on the scales removed.
The Left Side has the more mbers. The people who chose the Right Side is lesser.
The judges voted for the Lesser votes.
Right side of the scale burst into brilliant flas. Screams followed—brief, sharp, then silent.
When the smoke cleared, the Ring Master stood proudly atop his lion, unhard and smiling.
"Ga one... is complete."
---
"A huge W to the participants! You are all free!" the Ring Master announced with a wide grin, clapping his hands.
The audience responded with polite applause, though the excitent was far from enthusiastic. So cheered. Others just blinked, unimpressed.
From his velvet throne, the Clown leaned forward, his masked face unreadable.
"What the heck... That’s boring..." he muttered. His voice had a tinge of disappointnt, like a child denied his favorite toy. "Lesser people died. Not fun."
Tyler, Lily, Mana, Mathilda, and a few others were seated comfortably in the special guests’ area, watching with a mix of curiosity and disgust.
"Well, at least the slaves are alive," Lily said, crossing her legs.
"For now," Tyler muttered.
"Now onto the next ga!" the Ring Master bellowed, spinning his whip dramatically. "This one is called—Do You Want Love or Freedom?"
The lights dimd, and the arena rumbled beneath them. The massive tal sheets enclosing the stage began to shift, sealing off both sides before slowly parting again.
This ti, the environnt was entirely different.
Gone was the cold, gladiator-style pit. In its place was a cozy chamber, dimly lit with warm lighting and filled with dozens of oversized, luxurious beds. Silk sheets. Satin pillows. A scent of incense lingered in the air.
On each bed sat a pair of immortal practitioners, their wrists loosely bound together with glowing cuffs. Surprisingly, none of them looked angry or ashad. In fact, most looked... familiar. Comfortable.
"They’re all couples," Lily observed. "I guess this is going to be another type - emotional kind of ga."
The Ring Master raised his hand, a devilish glint in his eyes. "This one is called Love or Betrayal!" he shouted.
He spun in place and pointed toward the beds. "Each couple has their own little paradise. Each bed is divided by a beautiful silk screen. Soon, the cuffs will vanish. And each couple will be separated—one on each side."
The crowd leaned in, intrigued. Even the Clown seed mildly curious now.
The Ring Master continued, his voice now dipped in sin. "The ga is simple. One rule only. Do not look over the screen. Trust your beloved. If you peek, you can totally stop whatever happening on the other side. You forfeit your freedom... but you preserve your love—maybe."
He smiled. "But if you stay still... if you trust your partner completely... and they betray you—you lose only lose love but not freedom. So what do you choose? Blind trust or painful truth? Let the second ga begin!"
Mana yawned. "Still not my type of ga..."
"Oh, this one’s got potential," Mathilda said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She wiped the corner of her mouth dramatically. "I sense scandal in the air."
"Stop drooling," Lily scolded, tossing a peanut at her.
"Ouch!" Mathilda rubbed her forehead. "Who did that?"
Tyler, Lily, Mana, and even Darla all raised their hands at once.
"I need new friends," Mathilda grumbled.
Back in the arena, the ga was underway.
The cuffs faded away with a shimr of light, and the participants were carefully guided to opposite sides of their beds. The silk screens were lowered between them. The beds were massive—large enough to roll around and not touch the sides. The screens were high and elegant, shielding what happened on each side completely.
One elven couple sat in silence. The elf man glanced toward the screen, his eyes tracing the shadow of his partner on the other side. Her silhouette was still.
And then... another shadow appeared.
The shadow of a man.
The elf’s eyes widened. His heartbeat quickened. His breath caught in his throat. The shape was unmistakable. Soone was on the bed with his partner. But who?
The man started to touch his partner, followed by moans.
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