The morning air in Govart City was tense — not from the cold, but from the silence before a storm.
After the fierce battles of the quarterfinals, it's now time for the semifinals — only four monsters remain, each vying for a place in the final match.
I stood in the contestant's waiting room, still wearing my cracked, rotting shell.
My children observed from a distance, camouflaged and alert, hope gleaming in their gaze.
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**The Four Semifinalists:**
1. **Stinky Golem (Me)** – The spiky rotten egg nobody expected. With the power of stench, energy absorption, and an evolving Titan Stench, I'm now a serious threat.
2. **Velthra** – A black-scaled creature the size of a horse, resembling a small dragon with wings of lightning. It hovers low, spits electric blasts, and moves like a blur.
3. **Mozarka** – A transparent purple crystal slime that absorbs magic attacks and reflects them. The audience once thought it was weak — until it outsmarted a massive beast with layered reflection traps.
4. **Durlog the Flesh Sculptor** – A tall, lean monster with a stone mask. He wields curved knives and body art magic: carving his own flesh into weapons and rapidly regenerating. His fighting style is part dancer, part executioner.
---
We all waited our turn to step into the arena. Deep down, I knew — this wasn't about survival anymore.
This was about proving that even the foulest stench could become legend.
The announcer's voice thundered:
> "Ladies and gentlemen! Get ready! These semifinals will decide who deserves a place in the finals!
> Four monsters, each unique and deadly — and the battles are about to shake this very arena!"
I exhaled slowly, feeling Titan Stench simmering back to life inside me.
It was time to evolve again.
Time to break past the limits I once accepted.
---
The first semifinal match would be mine — versus **Velthra**, the lightning-winged beast.
My children gave me silent encouragement with their trusting eyes.
We've come far. But this journey isn't over.
I, a rotten spiked egg, will prove that **stench** isn't an insult —
…it's a **legend waiting to be written**.