Maribelle stands in the center of the arena, her new enchanted armor scorched, dented, and smeared with black hydra blood. Around her, five hydra corpses sizzle where they fell, their many heads twitching even in death. She pants once…then grins wide.
The crowd of demonkin that have gathered to watch the spectacle from above all gasp in awe, watching a mortal tear through monstrous foes like parchment.
High above, Vexena sits on her obsidian throne, long legs crossed, one crimson-nailed finger to her cheek. Eris stands to her right, arms crossed, her giant scythe floating silently behind her. Even she is impressed.
Maribelle glances up at them.
Without a word, she bolts across the arena, sprints up the stone wall, her boots crackling with energy. With a sudden leap, she clears the final edge and soars toward the queen's podium.
Eris moves on instinct, her blade flashing forward.
But instead of attacking, Maribelle lands hard and drops to one knee before her.
