The third day soon came, there was little hope of managing a victory but a lot of people still showed up to watch, it wasn't everyday the city folks could see such battles after all and they somehow felt assured that the very fact these fights were taking place was a sign that no calamitous war would take place after.
A logical assumption, but one they wouldn't have made about a bunch of monsters before, unconsciously, at some point, they had started to treat the forces of the Obsidian Queen like any other nation, thinking them bound to the same sort of unspoken rules and honor all nations had.
As for the people for whomst the fights were being broadcasted using magic, the people of yet untouched nations, except if one counted The Scourge's insidious propaganda to count, could only find solace in the belief that Roderst was just weak, which definitely wasn't their case.
Uncaring about the vicious consequences of the duels, Undying Prophet was stretching his limbs while awaiting his opponents arrival, two dual axes embedded in the ground on each side like the first time they had met.
He was wearing a huge smile, his teeth, all pristine white, showing for all to see.
The fact that an orc had better teeth hygiene than the majority of the people in the kingdom was bizarre in of itself, much weirder however, was how the big, threatening orc was jumping in place from time to time like a little child.
Only stopping once Jareld made his apparition, instantly picking up the axes, which had been hacked so deeply that he rose a good portion of the earth around along with them at the same time.
The advisor was fully geared up, looking much like the decorated knight Axiolypito had infested like a parasite, except, even more golden.
He wielded a huge mace befitting of his stature like many of his subordinates, for it was the weapon of choice of their model, although, Jareld also had a kite shield strapped on his back, a sword and a dagger tied to waist.
He also wore a surcoat depicting the emblem of royalty over his armor, appearing like a crusader ready to deliver some holiness to heretical territory.
Axio was looking from a private room, alongside Bizinda of course, since this was hers to begin with, he was just hitching a ride along.
The man's helm was also different from the rest, a design Axio had yet to encounter before today, it was a hounskull helm.
The tip of the visor seemed quite unnecessarily pointy but it certainly gave the suit a menacing vibe.
Another thing to not about Jareld right now was that as much as it may look like your typical plate armor and equipement, few would be able to wear it at all, firstly because it was custom made but most importantly because it was inhumanely heavy.
Typical armor wasn't that heavy on the wearer, even a full set like Jareld's, which even intricate plates and pieces of steel protecting areas that would usually remain weak points.
It was even heavier than the sort used for jousting and the man wasn't even on a horse!
This fact however, would go unnoticed by most for Jareld was moving around without problem, as if he was wearing nothing.
It wasn't for no reason that he rarely took off his armor, one, even if having the monstruous strength and endurance for such a heavy thing, would need to grow used to it.
Obviously, his weapons were also overly heavy.
Coupled with the layers of gambeson underneath, he would be pretty much invulnerable before common folks, who were more likely to mortally injure themselves when attacking than actually making him flinch.
On the other side of the arena, Undying Prophet was just like usual, grossly lacking defense, still, his sculpted body didn't seem easy to harm.
Slamming the end of his mace's handle into the ground, Jareld observed the orc from beyond the thin slits of his helm.
He saw the monster do no such thing as he just leaped up, leaving himself completely open as he held his weapons above his heads while diving down with his knees ready to slam into something, something that was breathing preferably.
Seeing the utter lack of technique relating to the weapons he was holding, Jareld went in with a burst of speed, leaving sparks of silver with bits of dull gold as he moved to the side before the orc landed and caught him in the air, striking his stomach with a blow of his mace.
To the surprise of the advisor, he recognised the sound and feeling of organs rupturing and bones being crushed.
He had went strong, using his whole body and currently obscene weight in the attack but still hadn't been expecting such a positive result.
Positive, because he was certain the orc's hips and spine hadn't been spared in the slighest, he eyed the monster as he was quickly sent flying, raising a huge cloud of dust as he crashed down with even greater strength than Sovereign Of Flesh had flattened Bizinda with.
He inspected his mace, noticing no dommage, only a bit of blood that had managed to latch onto it before Undying Prophet was thrown away.
It appeared like regular orc blood, nothing special about it...
It stayed there and acted like it should as the human saw a shape standing up amidst the dust, with a singular stomp, the minister blew it all away before roaring out...
...Out of joy, he was so overjoyed in fact, that he shattered his weapons without even landing a blow with them.
Jareld didn't frown as he saw that the monster was perfectly fine, no visible damage on his body, neither from the blow or the impact.
He shouted something but he did so in an orcish language and rushed forward, without jumping this time.
Without weapons, he immediately looked more like a warrior, they were truly there for decorations, he had no idea how to use axes to fight, or anything else for that matter, not only was it not needed.
It was actually holding him back.