The first morning of the tournament.
The sky over Govart was gray. But the sound of bone trumpets, cheering monsters, and clinking chains all meant one thing:
The Annual Govart Tournament had begun.
The kids and I arrived early. Disguised as tiny golems, they hid under makeshift stone cloaks at the edge of the participant area. I, of course, stayed in full disguise—one round, suspiciously smooth golem.
> [Participant 143-B, please proceed to the arena.]
The voice came from a screaming bird skull announcer. I slowly rolled into the center of the arena, surrounded by thousands of eyes from the stands. There was a three-headed snake monster munching popcorn. A flaming tiger. Even a mistfolk spectator you could only see when it sneezed.
And of course... my signature aroma started to spread like an unofficial announcement:
"The egg has arrived."
My first opponent: Ongre, a goblin-like beast with steel horns. Fast and aggressive. Brutal style. But I had my own advantages:
I'm round.
I stink.
And I'm completely unpredictable.
The match began!
Ongre leapt forward, swinging his axe. Me? I rolled in zigzags so chaotic they made him dizzy and confused.
> "What kind of golem is that!?"
The commentator was stunned. The crowd snorted. And in one magical moment—I jumped (thanks to my hidden slime spring) and—
BONK!
His head met my shell. Hard. Smelly. Shocking.
> [Winner: Participant 143-B!]
The crowd exploded. Some held their noses. Some burst out laughing. But more importantly...
> "That mysterious golem... he's something else."
> "Did he use... smell as a weapon?"
> "I thought that was just a myth. But the stink is real…"
I calmly rolled back to the edge of the arena. The kids looked at me with a mix of awe and secondhand embarrassment.
"So... that was your strategy, Dad?" asked Hitam.
"Strategy, fate, and a little internal gas," I replied proudly.
One small win. But enough to catch the attention of the crowd—and maybe even the organizers.
And I knew... this was just the beginning.