A True Culling Of The Weak

Killing my first opponent, I set my sight on the other creatures who stand with me on this smaller street. A few seemed to have noticed my superior martial prowess, as I see some dart away in the alleys. Some haven't however as they continue to duel each other right in front of my eyes. A demonic chimera lion and an undead warrior are just one of the 9 duels I see before me.

I rush towards the intense duel. My body is being boosted by my blood magic and the adrenaline rushing through it. I arrive in a split second as I immediately pierce the chimera lion through his back before throwing it to the closest wall. A crashing sound followed by a pathetic little whimper of the feline beast could be heard as blood rapidly leaves its pierced corpse. The undead warrior realizes the situation as he tries to escape. He jumps backward trying to create distance, I attack him with my Blood bound dark spear and manage to stab him right through his head. His body not even reaching the ground as it's caught on my spear.

Now I've caught everyone's attention. Their eyes widen with fear at their inevitable death, and their legs shake whilst watching me easily dispatch the others. They all scurry around like little insects, trying to make their way back toward their nests.

'Should I chase them?' I think to myself, knowing that the challenge is simply to survive.

I stand there indecisive for around 2 seconds as I create some wings made from blood and dark magic. Flying at great speed, I chase one of the runners as I arrive at another larger street. Our dear runner appears to be some sort of small devil bat. I quickly manage to catch him by his small head as it continues to try to run away. Its eyes almost pop out of its eye sockets as they instinctively widen even more because of its fear.

"You know what? I would consider myself a pacifist." I say towards the bat creature in my hand.

Confusion could be read off its face, as it doesn't respond to my statement.

"But I also know what I signed up for." I say in a happy tone while crushing my small opponent's skull.

'His head exploded, just like that YouTube video with the watermelon.' I say to myself mentally, making my way toward the other opponents in this new street.

***

Unknown Orc POV:

'Why did I decide to join this damn tournament!?! The strongest and bravest, they said. That should fit me perfectly! I'm the new leader of the undead marauders, dammit! Of course, I should be the strongest! Our previous leader always said he was the strongest, so if he's dead, then I should be the strongest now!'

Running through the alleys, I think back at all those impossibly strong demons I've seen.

'Seriously, how could that old man be so strong?? And what about that Dremora shouldn't that order be completely annihilated?' I think to myself, cursing my overconfidence.

'It doesn't matter, I just have to survive and if I have to face one of these opponents, I can just simply surrender. I rather live somewhere in the dark outside of Lucille's Light than die in Lucille's Light.' I start nodding my head as I agree with my brilliant plan.

Making my way through the alleys, I notice a distinct lack of screaming and sounds of people getting brutally murdered.

'I think I almost made it.' I think to myself, my mood brightening.

I turn left as I arrive at some street in the blood district. There are easily 50 bodies lying on the ground, all seemingly slashed or pierced. A sense of dread falls over me as I manage to make eye contact with a figure that has its spear through a creature's neck.

The spear bearer is a humanoid-looking creature. Long Brown curling hair with green eyes, shadows lightly cloaking him.

'He has to be a shade demon, right? But why does he feel so strange?' I find myself wondering as I notice my legs shake.

The figure pulls out the spear as it moves toward me with a sly smile on its face. His black clothes are soaked in blood, whilst it's actively dripping with every move he makes.

"It's been a while since I last saw a pale orc." The figure says to me in a calm tone that exudes his confidence. As the figure comes closer, I can see the bloodlust in those cold green eyes of his.

"Are you going to ignore me as well? For some reason, nobody seems to want to talk to me." he says whilst coming even closer to me. The pressure is suffocating, as I can't even think straight anymore because of this irrational fear perturbing my body.

'I'm the leader of the undead marauders, dammit! I won't die!' I yell, mentally shaking off all this cowardly fear I have.

"I'm Olrai, leader of the undead marauders! It's best you move on! I will not show any mercy to those who oppose me!" I yell, trying to intimidate him.

"Do all pale orcs like to yell so much? The last one I killed also had a rather large mouth. What was his name again? Kor Alto, or something like that." The shade demon recalls in a calm tone, showing no signs of being intimidated. My eyes' gaze fixates on his arms and the red chains strapped around them. Well, the chains soaked in blood, making it red I should say.

'Kor? He couldn't mean that he actually killed Kor right?' I think to myself, panic reclaiming its hold over my body.

"Do you like the number 62?" He asks me genuinely waiting for a reply.

"Not really," I answer, trying to sound confident, but even I noticed my voice crack while I said it.

"Too bad, I guess." He simply answers.

My world suddenly starts spinning as I seem to have just landed on the floor.

'I can't move. Why can't I move? WHY IS MY BODY LAYING THERE.' I yell, panicked, as I realize that I'm simply a decapitated head on the ground.

"What a shame. It seems like your number 62 after all." The one who kills me says in a mocking tone.