Shadow Slave: P̸̬̓̔ā̶̢̩̄ṟ̵̹̎̍ā̸̜ͅd̴̢͖̀̉o̴͖̲̓̓x̸̯͗?̴̣̀̌

Minutes passed, it seemed to be an intermission period of such between matches. An odd sensation lingered in Aeona's heart, not bad, but unfamiliar. It was as though her personality had changed, as if her previous sense of fear was vanquished.

Her plan was to beat the First Nightmare in the most difficult way possible, which was weird, because wasn't she a normal human? She had no great goals, nothing to strive for. She wanted power, a good assessment from the spell, and an aspect worth living for.

But why?

Her family always hid her childhood from her, acting as if it 'wasn't important', or as though it 'needed to be forgotten'. Aeona usually summed it up to her being misbehaved, but what she currently felt scrambled her previous assumption. 

She received three attributes which all seemed far above average, but why? She was an average person, so how come the spell acknowledged her as more? Why did she feel like more? 

Shaking her head, she noticed another faint scent of motivation tingling through her bones. Another reason to survive, furthering that feeling from before—or strengthening it, if you must. It was the desire to question her family, to ask what they hid from her. What exactly was Aeona's past?

Unfortunately, before she could continue on the topic, the Master rose atop the podium once again. This time, the battle was between two goblins of the same height and weight.

'Maybe siblings?'

Perhaps it was a tinge of racism, assuming their identities over what they looked like, but seeing as how nervous they were to fight one another, she might have been correct.

Neither were named entities, so they must have just been recently introduced, which brought forth Aeona's thought process on how named gladiators had done this tournament before, while unnamed haven't. 

As the match begun, both goblins were frightful of one another, as they knew that whoever struck first would have betrayed the other. Unfortunately, they knew the rules of this tournament, of the colosseum. Even if they waited through the five minutes, they'd be forced into a death match after the latter matches had finished. That one was much crueler than the current one.

Fortunately for Aeona, there was a visual component of the brackets for the tournament, which meant that she knew which match ups were likely and which ones weren't. 

For example, since number one, and number eight were on separate sides of their section of the bracket, they would be the least likely to match up with one another—besides whoever their final match-up would be.

Since Aeona was on the other section of the bracket, as number nine, she had no need to concern herself with numbers one through eight. Only the gladiator which would make it to the final was of use for her attention. 

And from the other contenders, the centaur was her best bet. That creature, or the muscle freak from round two. 

Speaking of rounds, round three ended in a terrible sight. One of the goblins murdered themselves, drowning in their own blood.

"Woo...wee... That was a heartwarming match! The goblin brothers—"

'So, they were brothers...' Aeona felt proud of not being racist. 

"—have completed their match with one sacrificing themself for the other! This makes me wonder how the living goblin shall react! Will he continue drowning in self-pity and depression, or will he rise to the occasion and take on his next opponent to carry on his brother's legacy!?"

It was sickening. The way the announcer was using the loss of a loved one to motivate the goblin for its next match. Using the excuse of 'carry on his legacy' to emotionally manipulate the stupid creature. What made it worse was how the goblin would never win the tournament either way, even Aeona as a mundane could beat the pitiful thing.

Minutes passed as they brought the goblin back to its station. 

There were three dead bodies scattered across the floor, the bandit, the imp, and the goblin. If you were to read their first letters, it spelled "BIG". This meant absolutely nothing, but Aeona read it as another attempt to find alternate ways out of this god forsaken nightmare.

"Well, without any further wait, lets continue to round four!"

A droplet of sweat trickled down Aeona's forehead. It was the match before hers, after all. Number seven and eight were about to skirmish, while she was number nine, waiting for her own. Thats when she noticed a pattern.

Every time the gates opened; the gladiators were always directly across from one another. This meant that her opponent was directly across from her. Narrowing her eyes, she spotted the number "10" imprinted on a plate above the station. This was for sure her opponent. 

Unfortunately, she was unable to make out their figure behind the bars, they seemed to be crouched in the dark corner which veiled her sight.

Inhale...

Exhale...

'Huh?'

'What!?'

This intense concentration led her eyes to catch a short movement from the corner of her eye, one nobody else would have seen without specifically paying attention to it.

The 'dead' goblin moved. Even if just a little, it's stomach rode and fell.

It was breathing, which meant it's heart continued pumping.

Inhale...

Exhale...

"Three...

"Two...

"One..." The fourth round began, but everything said beforehand was tuned out.

She thought of the runes, and the specific ones she was looking for appeared before her.

[Fortune's Curse] Attribute Description: "In the gamble of chances, you are one of the fortunate. On the flip side, challenges grow daunting."

'One of the fortunate...' A wicked grin appeared on her face. This was her first chance to obtain a memory, while it seemed unlikely, with the 'fortune' of her [Fortune's Curse] attribute, it seemed possible.

Now, whether the memory contained something useful or useless also depended on Aeona's luck, but there was no reason to falter, as she'd lose nothing.

"And would you look at that, folks! Both gladiators impressively removed each other from the likes of this tournament, murdering one another!"

'Huh?' Aeona wasn't paying much attention to the actual duel in hand, as her first glance was how weak the two were. Whoever won that duel would obviously lose against the centaur, so there was no purpose in watching. 'What a turn in events...'

"As per the rules of this colosseum, the goblin from round three will be automatically moved to the semi-finals! His opponent will be decided by the highly awaited fight between the Western Centaur and the Muscle Freak! —With his newly appointed nickname!

"Before that, though, we must run through the other section of the bracket!"

Aeona's face was glossing with sweat, but she did not let her focus fall, she knew her values and what she must do. Unfortunately, on her side of the bracket was that 'Glad-Marked Dragoon' which is said to be about as strong as the centaur.

As if answering her thoughts, the next match was announced.

"Are you guys ready!? This is the match you have all been waiting for since the Western Centaur versus the bandit! The Pitiful Human against the Glad-Marked Dragoon!"

Aeona's face paled.