Prompt: You enter an underground fighting ring, hoping to gain intel on a target, but this time you may have bitten off more than you can chew.

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I hadn't received an assignment for weeks, and I was starting to get bored, even though sometimes I wished I could be home, kicking back with a book or mingling in the bustling market. Doing those things too long wasn't good either; I missed the adventure and excitement.

Then, one day, I met Luther, one of my companions. It was strange because we usually never see each other; someone was always on an assignment, so I barely knew the other messengers. Luther was also surprised to see me, and though his stern face didn't show it much, the tip of his mustache twitched as he leaned closer to me: "Did they ask you if you'd take on the underground fighting ring mission?"

At first, I was puzzled about why he was whispering, but then I realized we don't usually talk about work, so he probably wanted to be discreet.

"No, not yet," I whispered back, curious about what kind of mission this could be.

"I didn't take it. I assume they'll ask you too... I think it's crazy and risky. You can only pull it off if you join as a fighter yourself." Luther gave me a look, suggesting he didn't think I could handle it, and regretted bringing it up.

"Oh, I see... And there are no other missions on the horizon? I'm starting to get bored," I replied, thinking that no one else would believe in me either since I'd been idle for a while, yet they had asked Luther, who had just returned from the last mission.

"No, nothing else. They'll let us know if there's something. Until then, I'm resting," Luther replied and said goodbye.

I didn't like that they hadn't even asked me about this task, thinking I wouldn't be capable of it. The more I thought about it, the stronger my desire to prove myself grew. So, when I saw our liaison, who usually hands out assignments, in the courtyard, I quickly hurried after him. "Folwell, it's great that we ran into each other!" I blurted out as if I had bumped into him by chance. "Is there a task? I'm getting really bored..."

Folwell stopped, pondered momentarily, and then replied decisively, "No, there's nothing." He started to walk away, but I was too angry to let it go.

"Are you sure? Not even a tiny little mission?" I asked hopefully, not wanting to reveal that I knew about the task.

He stopped and measured me once more. "Did Luther tell you?"

I nodded, and he continued, "Did he also tell you what needs to be done?"

"Only that it's about getting information from the underground fighting ring and that you have to fight too," I said, trying to sound as resolute as possible.

"And you would take it? That's what this is about? Otherwise, you wouldn't have bothered me..."

"Yes, I want to. I can fight; I'm quick. I'll outmaneuver them," I insisted.

"Since the king has been pestering me and there's no one else I can send right now, fine. But the matter is very discreet! There are rumors that the king's nephew has joined as a fighter. This is completely unacceptable. You need to find out if this is true."

"Okay, I'll do it! It sounds simple enough; I'll go down, find him, confirm if it's him, and come back."

"You haven't thought this through! You can't just get into the underground fighting ring so easily. You need to blend in and pose as a fighter. And it's likely they won't even accept you," Folwell said, waving dismissively.

"Please, let me try!" I insisted, wanting to prove myself. I didn't like being pigeonholed so easily.

"Fine, deliver the message if you find him. It goes like this: 'If you don't give up this fighting madness, which is tarnishing the royal family's reputation, you will be disowned by the king himself!'"

I nodded to show I understood, and once Folwell turned away, I jumped for joy. Finally, I had a genuinely challenging mission! And if I completed it, I would prove I was more than just a little goblin girl.

I got the necessary names for the place, and before I knew it, I was standing among huge, muscle-bound men, anxious about when it would be my turn because there was a proper interview for the selection. I waited with all sorts of shady characters, and they thoroughly scrutinized me, wondering if I was in the right place. Primarily humans and a couple of orcs, whose presence made me wish I had my backpack. Habits die hard; my old instincts told me I could only stand up to orcs with my explosive devices. This would be an excellent lesson to defend myself with my bare fists.

I won't lie; I took a few lessons in the courtyard before starting the mission. Just a few tricks on how to dodge blows and always aim for the neck, which would surprise them the most.

When it was my turn, I was ushered into a room where the underworld lords sat at a long table. I had yet to learn who they were, but I assumed they were some big shots who decided if you could join as a fighter. They needed to see something in you that bettors would also see, making them spend a lot of money on the matches.

In the middle of the room was a ring with a bored-looking giant, and I immediately sensed that this was no joke; I had to prove myself right away. I was correct because after my name and occupation were taken down amidst a lot of head-shaking, they pointed to the ring for me to show something.

This was what I wanted, and I sized up the giant, who didn't even bother to throw me a disdainful glance. He didn't care who stood before him; it seemed to me he just wanted to get it over with. As soon as I stepped into the ring with both feet, his massive arm swung towards me.

Surprised, I skillfully dodged him and immediately punched him towards his neck. However, he caught my hand and twisted it, making me scream in pain and drop to my knees. I must have looked pathetic, and I could already imagine Luther's smug face, lecturing me that he told me this task wasn't for me. Just the thought of that made me so angry that when I felt the grip loosen, I jumped up and punched the big guy in the stomach. The punch wasn't as powerful as I had imagined, but it was enough to make my opponent angry and launch an attack, which I skillfully dodged, not with strength but with quick jumps. Our whole fight looked like he was swinging, and I was jumping as if we were playing tag.

This couldn't go on forever, although I was starting to get the hang of it and found it funny how sweat was beading on my opponent's forehead. "Stop!" someone from the table shouted. We both stopped our movements and looked questioningly at our judges. Well, only I did; the big guy leaned against the ring's ropes and sipped water.

"Are you serious about this? Is this jumping around? And why do you even want to fight?" thundered the one in the middle.

I was about to answer when the one sitting on the edge interrupted. "I liked it; it was funny. We could take him on as an entertainer. Let him clown around between matches."

They all smiled and whispered, "What do you think? Will you take the job? We'll hire you as a clown."

Well, that's not what I came here for, but after all, the mission can still be accomplished this way. The main thing is to blend in. It did not do much for my self-esteem. So, instead of answering, I just nodded and hurried out of the room with a downcast expression.

I don't want to be an Underground Fighters club member for long. I'll quickly find out if the royal scion is here, deliver the message, and be gone. I knew I shouldn't ask directly, so I hung around the fighters often, hoping to overhear something or observe them since I roughly knew what Paul looked like. I looked for blond-haired men and was surprised to find only one. However, this one looked pitiful. His face was covered in blue and green bruises, and his body was marred with scrapes and bruises. All fighters had such marks, but this one had a considerable number.

I almost felt sorry for him and couldn't understand why a royal relative would want to get beaten up here. If it really was him. I had to be careful not to reveal myself, so I started probing. "They really beat you up! Do your wounds hurt a lot?" I tried to be friendly. He glared at me suspiciously while trying to cover the colorful bruises on his face with a powder puff.

"No, not at all, I'm used to it. But what are you doing here? I've seen you before; you're a messenger, right?" He looked back into the mirror and kept dabbing his face.

I was shocked at how quickly I was exposed. "Well, yes, if you are the one I brought a message for from the court," I tried to sound mysterious.

"I believe I am, but you can only deliver the message if we fight first." He laughed at his own joke.

"I'm not a fighter, more of a clown thing..." I stammered, not understanding the whole thing. "But why can't I just deliver the message and be done with it?"

"My father and uncle think they control everything, which is true. But let me feel for a moment that I'm in charge. So we fight, and if I feel like listening to you, you can deliver the message."

I was stunned. And more than anything, I didn't understand. Anyway, he somehow arranged for us to fight each other, which was announced as a humorous fight without any bets placed. But I could see from Paul's expression that he was dead serious.

At the beginning of our fight, I did what was expected of me, jumping around and skillfully dodging his blows. The audience enjoyed it, laughing loudly, but Paul wanted more. When he got close enough to me, he shouted, "If you hit me, I might consider it."

This was no joke anymore, I thought, and with all my strength, I charged at him to punch him in the stomach, but he neatly landed a blow on my chin, which might have knocked me out because I found myself lying on the ground, seeing him towering over me. "Didn't hit, and I suppose they want me to go home? Or else what?" He motioned for me to get up and stared me down. "Come on!" he taunted.

I charged again, but I got hit again, this time somewhere between my ribs. I doubled over, and he came close again. "Disowned?" he hissed.

I felt like he was taking out his vengeance on me. Blood was pouring from my nose, I saw blurry, and I thought about how to escape as the mission was complete; he knew everything without me having to say it.

"At least hit me once, come on," he shouted, and I made a pathetic attempt, but I could only grasp at him; I didn't have the strength for more. "You know everything now," I groaned. "What should I tell them? Are you staying or going home?"

He pushed me away and hit me in the face again, knocking me onto my back, but I didn't want to get up anymore.

He leaned over me and just said he was staying, or that's what I read from his lips because my ears were ringing.

This wasn't the best moment of my life, but I completed the mission.