God’s Perspective

Gavrin sat in the stands, eyes wide with awe as he watched the tournament unfold before him. "How does everyone here have an ability?" he muttered to himself, his mind racing. The spectacle was almost too overwhelming to comprehend. He scanned the crowd, observing the villagers surrounding him—men, women, children, even the elderly—each seemingly possessing some form of extraordinary power. The more he looked, the clearer it became: there wasn’t a single person in this village who didn’t have some remarkable ability.

He felt a knot tighten in his chest. These weren’t ordinary villagers. If they could summon magic, wield divine gifts, and fight with such precision, their collective power was immense. He leaned forward, watching as the Saintess's Squad prepared to face off against the Ironclad Five, still caught in disbelief.

***

The tension in the arena was palpable as the Saintess's Squad faced off against their opponents, the Ironclad Five. The saintess team stood in formation, their minds sharp and weapons ready. Garrick, their leader, had his shield raised, glancing over at Tom, Eliza, Orland, and Samuel. Each of them was preparing for the battle ahead, knowing the strength of their enemies across the field.

On the other side of the arena stood the Ironclad Five: Thorne, the hammer-wielding warrior; Freya, the agile rogue; Varron, a towering berserker; Lira, the druid; and Kaldor, the shieldbearer. Their eyes gleamed with determination, just as eager to claim victory.

The horn blasted, signaling the start of the match.

Immediately, Orland took the initiative, nocking three arrows at once, activating Rapid Fire. With expert precision, he released them, two aimed at Thorne, the leader of the Ironclad Five, and one at Lira, the druid. The arrows sped across the arena like streaks of light. Thorne deflected one with his hammer, but the second struck his shoulder. Lira was forced to retreat as the arrow grazed her arm, disrupting her concentration.

"Good hit!" Garrick called out as he surged forward to meet Kaldor. The shieldbearer had taken a defensive stance, bracing for impact. Garrick unleashed his Shield Bash, his shield slamming into Kaldor’s, sending shockwaves through the arena as the Ironclad protector staggered back. Kaldor grunted, but his Defensive Stance absorbed most of the damage.

Samuel, standing in the backline, saw an opening and called upon his magic. “Rock Pillar!” he shouted, and a large stone column burst from the ground beneath Freya’s feet, causing the rogue to leap back, her Shadow Step already active as she teleported behind him, ready to strike. But Samuel was prepared, spinning to intercept her with his staff, just managing to deflect her initial attack.

With Freya temporarily distracted, Orland shifted his focus to Varron, who had charged toward Tom. The berserker, wild and reckless, swung his massive axe with all his might, activating Frenzied Swing. Tom blocked the first hit, but the force sent him skidding backward.

Seeing Tom in trouble, Eliza whispered a prayer and cast Healing Light, restoring some of the damage Tom had taken. The glow of healing magic gave Tom the strength he needed to counter.

“Holy Strike!” Tom’s sword shimmered with radiant energy as he slashed at Varron, the holy power cutting through the berserker’s defense. Varron roared in pain as the light inflicted a burn, leaving him weakened.

Meanwhile, Garrick and Kaldor were locked in a brutal contest of strength and endurance, their shields colliding again and again. Kaldor, realizing he couldn’t hold out much longer, tried to push Garrick back, but the knight’s endurance was proving superior.

"Samuel, a pillar, now!" Garrick shouted, and once again, the ground responded to Samuel’s command. A Rock Pillar shot up directly behind Kaldor, boxing him in. With nowhere to retreat, Garrick slammed into him with his shield, knocking the protector to the ground.

Realizing they were losing ground, Thorne bellowed, “Ironclad, regroup!” He raised his hammer high, preparing to unleash Crushing Blow. The strike was aimed directly at Garrick, who braced for impact, but just as Thorne swung, Orland fired another volley of arrows. This time, two arrows hit their mark, embedding themselves in Thorne’s leg and shoulder, forcing him to falter.

Garrick seized the moment, delivering a powerful strike to Thorne’s torso, sending him crashing to the arena floor.

Freya, seeing her allies fall one by one, lunged toward Eliza, hoping to take out their healer. But just as she was about to strike, Eliza activated Illuminating Presence, a radiant light surrounding her. The glow slowed Freya’s approach and healed Eliza’s minor injuries, providing a small but significant buffer. Before Freya could react, Samuel raised his staff once more, summoning another Rock Pillar that shot up between them, forcing Freya to retreat.

With Varron weakened and Kaldor incapacitated, Lira attempted to call upon Nature’s Grasp to ensnare Orland and Tom, but her concentration was broken when Tom surged forward, slashing with his sword. The druid fell to her knees, unable to continue the fight.

Thorne, realizing his team was defeated, dropped his hammer with a heavy thud. “We surrender,” he growled, breathing heavily as the crowd roared.

As the battle ended, the Saintess's team stood victorious. Garrick nodded to his teammates, a small smile of satisfaction crossing his face. “Well done, everyone,” he said.

Tom, though exhausted from his Holy Strike's debuff, gave a thumbs-up to Orland. “Those arrows saved us back there.”

Orland grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. “Anytime.”

Eliza, her Illuminating Presence fading, healed her comrades’ remaining wounds as Samuel surveyed the fallen Ironclad Five, already thinking of the next challenge.

They had fought as a team, and together, they had won.

***

As the clash of abilities and combat prowess unfolded before him, Gavrin's thoughts grew darker. “How do they have that kind of power?” he whispered under his breath, eyes flicking between the combatants. He could hardly believe what he was witnessing. The ironclad armor of Kaldor shone in the arena’s sunlight as it clashed with Garrick’s shield. Eliza’s soothing light washed over her teammates, while Samuel summoned pillars of stone with ease. Every moment was a revelation of untapped potential.

His mind raced further as he considered the implications. If these villagers decided to turn their strength outward—if they ever chose to conquer cities—what force could possibly stop them? They’d be unstoppable. Panic edged into his thoughts. “Unless…,” he mused aloud, recalling the stories of his youth. “Unless the cities call for help from the Inquisitors.”

The Inquisitors, the most feared faction of warriors in the land, sent only in dire circumstances where the supernatural defied control. But even more terrifying were the hidden and mysterious Holy Warriors, nurtured by the Church of the Seven Gods. No one knew how many there were or even where they were kept, but whispers told of their unspeakable power. They only deployed when things went beyond what normal inquisitors could handle—during events that defied all natural law.

Gavrin shivered at the thought. "But if these villagers attract the attention of the Holy Warriors... even this place might not be safe anymore." He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was witnessing something far greater than a simple tournament. He was seeing the seeds of a force that could reshape entire kingdoms.

And as the battle below raged on, Gavrin realized one thing: he wasn’t just an observer. He was caught in something much larger than he had ever imagined.