Tiaral

Having arrived at the arena of Girr, Relhiras expressed his desire to participate in the upcoming Tournaments.

— He-he,” chuckled the arena manager, “aren’t you afraid that your pretty face will be disfigured there, boy? Ah, what am I saying, you won't come out alive anyway, and you won't need a face anymore, ah-ha-ha.” Having finished laughing, the manager returned to his usual disgruntled state and assessed Relhiras with a look, after which he made some notes on a sheet of paper lying in front of him. — You are lucky,” he said without any visible emotion in his voice, “your fight is first. Relhiras’s opponent turned out to be someone named Tankred, a warrior armed with a sword and shield, as well as two additional swords conveniently placed behind his back. His aura was as dark as a moonless and starless night, and there was no doubt that his hands were stained with seas of blood. At the same time, in his figure clad in black armor, one could feel confidence in his own righteousness and selflessness. Relhiras and Tankred stood ten meters apart, waiting for the signal to start the battle. Relhiras, being more agile, had a slight advantage over his opponent. Meanwhile, the arena manager was collecting money.
As it turned out, you could bet up to 10 gold coins at a time, while the administration took half of the winnings.