"Hey reff, what the literall fuck? Is friendly fire allowed?" I yell at the dragnpa, who is tugging his beard all wisely and crap.

The dragnpa nods solemnly as the crowd goes wild around us. I can see a catgirl wasted out of her mind flashing me four pairs of tits. Is this a redneck woodsy thing? Is it magic NASCAR? It feels like a magic redneck thing. "All is fair in love and war, child!" says the dragpa with a puff of smoke.

"Ah, backstabbing your team-mates is okay with you, but killing a dude in self defense is not? What's the difference?"

"That's completely different!" yells the old dragonoid. "And if you have to ask, I'm afraid you're far gone off the deep end."

"What happened with all that 'all is fair in love and war' crap? You kill dudes in wars all the time."

The crowd boos me. Even the catgirl puts her shirt back on.

"That wasn't war, you mongrel," says the dragonoid with coldness in his words, contrasted by the fiery of his breath.

"Oh, yeah. A battle royale to the death ain't a place for killing people. Gotcha."

"It's just a name!" says the old dragon. "You don't go to a hospital's burn ward and light people on fire."

"You don't know my hobbies!"

Author's note: Ayden does not advocate for the torture of burn victims, nor does he think any other violation of the Geneva Conventions is a valid justification of self defense.

Hey, speak for yourself, you weird author's note. I would totally violate Geneva Convention Art. 24 if I had the chance. I'm a firm believer in Ezekiel 25:17.

Before I can argue my point any further, a ball flies just past my face, smashing on the ground behind me and leaving a burnt crater. The ball bounces right back like a gummy boomerang to the hands of a lanky bitch.

"Glazzballs on me, my droogie," says Jayden, twirling the ball in his hands. "It would be a shame if our dance ended so quickly"

"Bitch, I ain't dancing with no Slenderman-looking creep with a yee-yee ass haircut and suspenders," I yell.

His witty retort comes from a new ball shot right to my head, which I dodge at the last second.

"Okay, maybe a quick waltz," I retort.

The ball bounces back towards Jayden, who picks it up while fufufu-ing. "Ah, my droogie, I don't take kindly to rejection. Don't worry, this will be over quickly. Trevor, if you will..."

Trevor the Man-bitch raises his staff/cane and chants a quick spell. 「Bounce times 4」

The ball glows with an ominous sheen, almost like a dark rainbow. Jayden tosses the ball my way, but I dodge it by rolling out of the way.

However, the ball doesn't bounce back towards Jayden, but flies towards my face yet again. I scoot left at the last second, but it bounces towards hy head next. It grazes my hair, and some loose hairs come flying out, but I manage to cut it close. The ball then bounces back towards Jayden. Every swerve of the ball is accompanied by gasps and cheers from the crowd.

"Horrorshow job, my droog. You're a real Baryshnikov. The starry Ludwig Van would surely make a tune in your honor!" says Jayden, sneering at me.

"I'm gonna pull your balls through your mouth," I say.

Trevor the Gingerbitch steps up, smashing the cane down. "You will not speak to Lord Jayden like that, you mongrel!" The tip of his cane glows with a red light, surrounded by dark shadows. Somehow, I don't think anybody would bat an eye if they blast me into next week.

Think, Ayden, use your gnoggin! I've only survived the onslaught so far by only a hair--literally. It's obvious I won't last another round of balls to my face. I would've relished the chance to bounce out of here and get this whole arc done with, but that was before he unloaded his balls on my boyfriend's back. Yes, I know what it sounds like. Only I can have innuendos with my man. This is personal.

But how to enact my furious vengeance? I have to take out Trevor first. He's the one enabling the lanky bitch with his ginger wizardly. Let's face it, I ain't winning against them in a test of strength. I'm outnumbered and outgunned. If I'm to win this, I have to work smarter, not harder.

I need myself to buy some time. For what, you ask? Okayden. Not even all the magic in the world can go against the sheer speed of the Alpharatus. I just have to survive until he beats the Vamwolf and make him punt them out of the stadium.

I look up to see the pair engaged in aerial combat. Okayden is flying as usual--gracefully and a little peeved. The Vamwolf, on the other hand, looks exhausted. Okayden only has to flap his wings and that's it, but the Vamwolf has to summon ice platforms and use his entire body to jump and shoot. It's a battle of attrition that Okayden is bound to win.

Great, I have a goal. Now, how will I buy said time? That's the question. I reckon I could try and dodge again, but that's gonna buy me a round, tops. How does one go about distracting a crazy, egomaniac freak of a bad boy?

Something tells me to move left. Hey, nobody tells me what to do! Even my subconscious. I don't take orders from filthy subs. I dodge right, and a ball flies past my shoulder, almost touching me.

I should've gone right. Even a light graze from the dark aura surrounding the ball is enough to send a shock of electricity down my spine. It feels like something is burning inside me, and it wasn't the Doritos Locos tacos I had for breakfast.

I jump out of the way to avoid the next bounce, but none comes. The ball simply goes back to Jayden's hand.

The long-haired weirdo laughs while covering his mouth like a mischievous princess not yet owned by Disney. Yet. "Fufufu, appypolly-loggies, my droog. You seem to have been lost in thought for a second there! I just wanted you to pay attention to the star of the show."

Damn, I have to stop monologuing so much.

Wait, no, that's it! Monologues! Jayden is a bad boy, and a narcissistic one at that. I can make him start monologuing, we could be here all day. I just have to stroke his ego a bit.

"Sorry, I was just processing my surprise, is all," I say. "I was expecting a betrayal from the ginger. But you working in cahoots? I didn't see that coming."

Jayden, who's winding his arm for a new shot, stops in the middle, letting his guard down. Phew.

"It's understandable. I would not think a gloopy mortal like you to pony the intricacies of relationships between higher beings. Fufufu."

Higher beings my ass. "Oh, really? Pray tell, when did you two start to conspire?"

"As soon as Trevor realized the power of my magnificence," says Jayden. "Of course, I merely co-opted his plan. But even he can attest that my mere involvement has improved it ten fold. Right, my droog?"

Trevor's plan? I knew it! This whole dead mother shtick seems way too convenient. "Don't tell me the ginger bitch killed Okayden's mom?!"

"You did what?"

The platform shakes like an earthquake, and a cloud of dirt and sand rises to the air, covering everything in darkness. Reveries dissipate the settling dust, created by the incessant flapping of leathery wings. In the middle of everything, in a crater on the ground, stands Okayden. I can only see his back, but even here I can feel the seething anger emanating from him.

The stadium became eerily quiet as the spotlight shifts towards Trevor the Man-man, fiddling uncomfortably and trying to hide behind his cane/staff.

"Answer," says Okayden. Not with any pomp or circumstance, not haikus, nothing. Just a solid command of someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Not even the Vamwolf, gasping for air on a suspended platform, dares to take advantage of the clear opening. It is as if the whole forest is holding its breath.

"Now."

Trevor the Man-man takes a deep breath, taps his cane/staff on the grass and pumps his chest, which would look much more intimidating if it came from someone with more melanin.

"I don't have to answer anything to you, mutt," says Trevor the Manwhore with venom in his words. "Lord Jayden, muzzle this bitch for good!"

Well, my plan failed successfully, it seems. I didn't even have to hear their stupid monologue.

"My pleasure, my droog."

Jayden raises a ball in the air while Trevor supercharges the ball with an inky-black spell that smells like metal and death. 「Ragnarok's End」

The ball flies through the air with so much speed that the air distorts around it, as if the devil was draggin one of his filthy fingers on the cheap toilet paper of the deepest recess of hell.

Okayden slaps it out of the air like a fat mosquito. I could barely see his hands move just now.

The crowd goes wild. Somehow, six identically-looking brasiers get tossed into the platform. I can see the cat hairs cling to them.

"Speak," commands Okayden.

"Eat shit, mutt!" yells Trevor the Gingivitis. Three balls start to float around him like orbiting moons, or when your mom goes outside to do anything. Cuz she so fat she has her own orbit. Fuck you. I don't have energy to be funny now.

「Ragnarok's End Times 3」

The three balls rip the air between him and Okayden, just like Satan rips a new one after that binge at Burger King one lonely July night when the melancholy of his hubris caught up to him. And just like before, two of them are swatted away. But the third, that one Okayden catches.

With almost the same movement, and with the energy still swirling around it, Okayden shoots the ball towards Trevor's feet. It impacts the ground just in front of it with such force that a clump of grass and treeroot flies in the opposite direction the ball comes from--meaning, towards Trevor. Something snaps, I don't know if it's the root, or Trevor's leg.

"My fucking leg!" yells Trevor the One-legged pirate as he falls down, clutching his oddly-bent shin. That kinda answers my question.

"Talk."

"My dear judge, surely this must be illegal!" says Jayden, taking a half-bow of respect.

The dragnpa makes three puff of smoke, like an old teapot, followed by a mocking laughter. "All is fair in love and war, my child! Except murder."

"Then I shall not," says Okayden. Hey, where did he get that new ball? Doesn't matter, it's now flying through the air. Another crater, another clump of debris hits Trevor square in his face. Teeth fly out while he stumbles back.

"Medcy, medcy!" pleads a toothless Trevor.

"Talk," orders Okayden. This story turned dark, yo.

"I wid, I wid."

"Speak normally."

"Yed...I mean, yes, yes," says Trevor, groveling in a puddle of drool and blood. "I swear, I didn't kill your mother!"

"What did you do?"

"I only swapped the wills, I swear! Here!"

Trevor waves his hands and produces a letter out of nowhere. He tosses it towards Okayden, who catches it in the air.

Okayden slowly walks towards the dragnpa, with every pair of eyeballs stuck to his back. Well, the average of eyes amongst the crowd is somewhat below a pair, since there are cyclops, blind mole-people, and Katie Carmichael, whose dad never told her not to run with scissors.

"Read this. Let everybody know," commands Okayden.

The dragnpa nods, gently opening the letter while augmenting his voice with a spell.

"My dear Okayden,

If you are reading this, then, I'm dead. Bummer, isn't it? I hope I died in a cool way, like fighting an army, or eating a piece of chocolate from the ground. I know it can kill me, but it smells delicious! Anyhow, last time we talked, you decided to leave the forest to pursue your passion: Being a manager at a FootLocker. Oh, how your eyes shone so bright when you were but a pup, putting on mom's high-heels and saying "Look, mom, I'm like you now!"

It made me so proud, thinking you wanted to follow my steps, until I realized it was the shoes you wanted to pursue, not my position. Back then, we exchanged some choice words, and you said you will never come back here. I'm sorry. I was a bad mother. Instead of supporting you, and letting you soar high, I tried clipping your wings. Ever since that day, I've kept tabs on you. On your education, on your new friends, on everything.

And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, my love. I can see your incredible will triumph above anything else. You, my love, are a strong man. I am proud of you. I'm sorry I'm not alive to tell you in person. I didn't have the courage to face you.

Please, follow your dreams, whatever it takes. The world is your playground, and you can do whatever you want in it. Mommy believes in you. Whatever you do, don't follow in my steps. Be better than me. Spread your wings and fly away.

I know it's not much, but I've left a few gold nuggets, your grandfather's gold watch, and a hard drive with a couple hundred of something called "Bitcoin" your dad mined, or something. I never saw him hold a pike or go to a mine, always fiddling with computers. I dunno, he just wanted you to have it. Take it all, my baby boy, and fund your dream. Mommy believes in you.

Ps: Don't give a nickel to Trevor. I've been pushing him to stop mooching on me and get a real job. Unlike you, he's far too complacent with his position in life. A kick in the butt is something he needs to grow up."

Sweet Pope Benedict XXVI pooping on a Tesla, I think Okayden is a fucking millionaire now! I hope he doesn't start some stupid feet-based NFTs. But I think his sudden fortune isn't the thing that affects him the most.

Tears crawl down his snout, matting his fur. They pool beneath his eyes, not blinking, not moving. The crowd is crying as well in solidarity with Okayden. I don't know the extent of his relationship with his mother, or what they said to each other that day when he decided to leave the nest, but it must have been something weighing on his mind. He was willing to toss aside his dreams for her when he thought it was her last wish. I cannot even fathom the swirling emotions inside him. Happiness, sadness, regret, peace, grief.

I'm sorry, Okayden. I'm very, very sorry.

That being said, I think I understand what's happening right now.

"Let me get this straight," I say, breaking the silence. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but you changed the will to make Okayden take the mantle of protector, and you can keep being his professional asskisser. New ass, same comfortable job, right?"

"And answer honestly," bellows Okayden.

Trevor the Piss-drinker squirms on the ground, groveling, making himself as small as possible. "Yes, yes, that was my plan. I just wanted to keep my status as the buttler of the protector. If anybody else but Master Okayden took the spot, I would've been booted back to the bottom of the food chain!"

Okay, that makes some sick sense. He's a filthy ginger. He wouldn't last too long in the wild.

"How come you changed your plan, then?" I ask. "Why did you want Lanky McShitface here to be the protector?"

Jayden fufufus a little more, as if the whole thing is but an amusing coincidence. "He merely recognized my superiority over the dog over yonder."

"I did no such thing, Master Okayden, sir, my liege," says the ginger. "That devil enticed me with power, with fame." He drags himself forwards, away from Jayden, and almost across the line. "He promised an unlimited amount of hair dye. No longer would I be mocked by my red hair! Please, have mercy!"

Silly ginger, you can't hide it with dye. It's in your blood. I can smell your acrid orangeness.

Okayden cleans an errand tear from his snout before taking a deep breath. He turns towards Trevor the Deadman with a somber look. "I forgive you, ginger one."

"Thank you, thank you, my liege, my god, my master!" yells Trevor with a pathetic smile.

"However, I must execute the last will of my mother. Forgive me."

Okayden grabs a ball on the ground just as Trevor's smile turns to confusion, and then abject horror. He takes flight, far above us, and even above the Vamwolf. Just as he's about to disappear into the moonlight, he dives back down like a bat out of hell. He tosses the ball with all the acceleration force of his dive, breaking the sound barrier with a dry thunk.

The ball firmly embeds between Trevor the Half-assed buttcheeks. He bounces from the ground by the sheer force of the impact, which I believe broke his ass. He can't even yell from the pain. Only a dry squeal comes from his lips, drowned by the sound of cheers from the wilding crowd.

A beam of light comes and whisks Trevor away. And that is the end of the token ginger.

"Trevor the Man-man has been eliminated!"

Okayden cracks his fingers, stretches his neck, and takes another deep breath, all the while looking up at the Vamwolf. "Okay, then, it's time,

We were in the middle of,

Something, weren't we?"

Grabbing a ball, he flies up to meet the Vamwolf, and the battle resumes.

Well, all's well that ends well, I guess.

Except for the ball shot at my face that misses me by a whisper. Close enough to zap me with dark magic.

I see Jayden, laughing, charging another ball with dark magic. "I pray you have not forgotten that I am also a wizard of high caliber, yes?"

Alright, it's not over yet. I have one more loose end to tie up here.