by Wolfe Locke
“You are welcome to go into the Tower now,” Zekant snapped. “It is empty, but it is open for you to use at any time. You can run up the stairs, right to the top, and train like the humans do.”
Ms. Blue didn’t respond, just looked her tower up and down, quickly evaluating. “Four days is fine. It will give me time to prepare.”
“I need to return to my realm,” Zekant said. “I still have much to accomplish tonight.”
She waved a hand imperiously. “Go.”
Her permission given, he was able to teleport out of her domain. I’d like to see her try and stop me from leaving. Zekant was more powerful than his sister, and they both knew it. Though, others are stronger than us. As the third wave of Lords of Pandemonium, the old man is stronger still, as was Amarath.
Back in his library, he settled in behind his massive stone desk. There was one last thing he had to attend to, though, before he could start the night’s work in earnest.
“Crixa,” he said, summoning the spider-monster to his side by speaking its name.
“Yes, master?” it asked, twitching its legs obsequiously as it appeared before him. No longer the flinty drill sergeant from the Training Grounds where it adopted a cringing persona that it knew pleased Zekant.
“My sister is correct,” Zekant said, hating to admit it. “We are not doing enough with the Champions. They will not be ready in time, and once they are, they will be too weak.”
“Apologies—” Crixa stammered, but the Dark Lord waved it aside.
“It is not your fault. You have done what I asked, but what I asked was not enough. We must overhaul their training. Their program must be more difficult.”
“Master,” Crixa said. “The current program has already killed half the Champions. If you are worried about the numbers—”
“Cannot be helped. I can always create more. I will deliver a new program to the Training Grounds tomorrow.”
Crixa nodded, looking dismayed.
“And one more thing,” Zekant added. “Edd. I am pleased with his progress. But I want you to battle him against the revenant of Pyke Wildwood tomorrow. That situation needs to come to a conclusion, I still need to see Edd bring out more of the latent power I have given him.”
“My Lord,” Crixa said. “I do not think that it is a good idea.”
“What you think does not matter to me!” snapped Zekant. “Our champions must be strong mentally as well as physically. The minions of Aeon will test them in every possible way. I must give them every challenge I can muster in addition to those they face in the Arena. A day will come when the Lords of Pandemonium will need them to deliver.”
“It is cruel,” Crixa said tentatively, “to make a Champion face the soul who killed him, to remind him constantly of his former life, never allowing him to make a fresh start.”
“It is not your place to make such judgments,” Zekant said, turning away. He had seeded the Champions’ roles with souls from their pasts as a way of testing their mental rigor. He had not expected the revenant to make its first move so soon but was pleased that it had.
The Dark Lord had observed his Champions’ fighting styles. Edd was a powerful warrior, but his control was weak. He had a foul temper and allowed himself to be drawn into making rash and emotional decisions in the Arena. These were poor qualities in a soldier. Zekant needed to see if the skeleton could overcome them.
“I understand,” Crixa said, looking dejected. “But, in my opinion, if you force the skeleton and the revenant together in the Practice Arena, one of them will not survive.”
“Let it be so, then,” Zekant said. “Sacrifices must be made if we wish to succeed. This is a war, not a children’s game.”
Crixa bowed low. “Yes, master. They will battle each other tomorrow as you command.”
“See that they do. I will be there in person to witness it. I wish to see Edd fighting up close.”
“Yes, master,” Crixa said, still bowing.
“You are dismissed,” Zekant said with a wave of his hand.
Crixa disappeared with a pop of displaced air, leaving Zekant alone. Looking longingly at the pile of scrolls that held his in-progress monster designs, the Dark Lord pulled out a clean piece of parchment and began work on Ms. Blue’s tower. His sister would not be patient, and the sooner he did what she asked, the sooner she would leave him in peace.
How would she do with a challenge that took her memory from her?
Chapter 21: The Rematch
A new day greeted Edd, and he walked out of his cell to join the other champions, taking note of his progress on the way out.
Spectral Arena
Name: Edd the Conqueror
Specialty: Frost Magic
Race: Greater Skeleton
Current Unlocked Abilities:
Frost Nova (On Touch) – Unleashes an explosion of ice.
Frost Nova (Targeted) – Unleashes an explosion of ice at the impact site that causes area of effect damage around it.
Ice Wall (Targeted) – Creates at target location a wall of ice that is resistant to damage. Ice wall cannot be passed through, it must be destroyed.
Storm of Swords – Creates a targeted volley of icicles. Can be area of effect or target
Ice Blades – Surrounds a target with blades of ice for protection.
Razor Frost causes a mist of powdered snow to spawn and rise it in a vortex in a small area. Anything caught within this vortex must endure the sharped edges of the flakes of Razor Snow.
Current Passive Abilities:
Flesh Crafting - A lesser-known school of Necromancy, Flesh Crafting allows for the creation of flesh golems and other constructs.
Zekant’s Blessing – Complete immunity from frost.
Assistance of the Flesh Golem – If rendered unconscious, the Flesh Golem Vilerend will rush to your aid.
Dormant Abilities:
Vampiric Aspect II – Bloodlust – Cannot retreat when an opponent has been bloodied. Receives a boost to strength and durability.
Strength: 31
Magic: 39
Stamina: 68
Speed: 27
Dormant abilities? Is it because I haven’t been drinking blood? What about Storm of Swords? That one evolved. Does this mean I can try to change it another way in the future? The possibilities excited him. I’ll have to think about this later.
When Edd showed up at the Training Grounds the next day, the atmosphere was unlike it had ever been before. Crixa was tense, barking orders at the spider-monsters that were scuttling around him in a panic.
The practice dummies were gone, and a second Practice Arena had been constructed next to the first. Three spider-monsters scrambled to lay sawdust down in the new Arena as two others finished building the wooden barrier that separated it from the rest of the Grounds.
“What’s going on?” he asked Colubra as they strapped on their armor.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Crixa’s acting really strange. They were here all night getting this ready. Who knew they could work this fast?”
Edd looked around. It was impressive that the creatures had put this together, but he couldn’t help feeling that it was a bad sign. This much change this quickly probably meant that things were about to get worse.
“Gather up!” Crixa shouted across the Training Grounds. “All Champions to me. Now!”
The gladiators looked around at each other, baffled. Crixa had never addressed them all simultaneously like this.
“Are you deaf?” Crixa said. “Can you hear me? Gather up now. You’re wasting time, and we don’t have a lot of it.”
Some of the Champions were still buckling their armor as they filed over to Crixa. He was standing at the center of the new Arena surrounded by chattering spider-monsters. At his command, two of them sprinted off across the Grounds and out of sight.
“We’re changing things up a bit,” Crixa said when the Champions had gathered around him. “The Dark Lord feels that we’re working too slowly. He w
ants us to intensify our training and focus on battles in the Practice Arenas. As you can see, we’ve made a second one so two bouts can take place at a time.”
Edd felt his stomach sink. More battles? He was already tired enough as it was. And I’m dead with the stamina to boot. I wonder how others feel about this.
“Things are about to get much more difficult,” Crixa said, “but I know you all can do it. Don’t forget, you’re the Dark Lord’s champions. He personally selected you from the Well of Souls. You wouldn’t have been chosen if you didn’t have what was required.”
Some of the other Champions looked pleased at this, but Edd only felt even more uneasy. It felt like Crixa was trying to make himself feel better about something he was about to do. And why now?
“The Dark Lord will continue to modify your training regimen as he sees fit,” Crixa went on. “But I can tell you this much. Your Arena battles will be more challenging and more frequent. And in practice, there will be no more blunted weapons. All training battles will be fought with steel.”
The Champions murmured to each other in shock. Real steel meant real injuries in addition to the injuries they suffered in the Arena.
“Is he trying to kill us?” Colubra hissed.
“Maybe,” Edd said, looking across the crowd at Yarrl. The revenant was smiling.
“Finally,” Crixa said. “The Dark Lord wants to observe your training battles. He wants to hunt out your weaknesses and force you to face them, both here and in the Arena. Only by confronting our fears can we overcome them!”
“Very inspiring,” Edd muttered, and Colubra snickered.
Crixa raised his voice as he brought his speech to a rousing conclusion. “The first set of battles will take place today. The Dark Lord will be in attendance. I will hand out your assignments after you’re done warming up. Remember, always fight with honor, and you shall prevail.”
“Some of us will prevail,” Colubra whispered. “The rest will be dead.”
Edd nodded. “Then we must ensure that we are not among the dead.”
Their warm-up was brief, and Edd spent half of it watching Crixa hand out battle assignments. Edd suspected he knew exactly whom he’d be fighting. He was ready for it. The revenant would not be allowed to defeat him again.
Sure enough, when Crixa handed him the piece of parchment with his assignment slip, Yarrl’s name was on it.
“I had hoped this could be avoided,” Crixa said, but Edd shook his head. “This was not my idea.”
“I am glad this is happening,” Edd said. “I can defeat him now.”
Before Crixa could say more, the sound of heavy footfalls rang out across the Training Grounds. The Champions all fell silent. It was the Dark Lord accompanied by one of the other Lords of Pandemonium, the Scarred Man. As always, his glacial armor was the inky black of the starless void.
“Master—” Crixa stammered, but Zekant raised his hand to cut him off.
“Lord November and I have come to see training battles,” he said. “But I see none. Is there a problem?”
“We—” Crixa said, but the Dark Lord cut him off again.
“You,” he said to Edd. “Slave. You will go first.”
Edd ignored the word “slave.” He would not allow the Dark Lord to anger him or distract him from his purpose. He nodded, saying nothing, and climbed into the closest Practice Arena. Colubra and Selesius gathered by the wall to watch, but he ignored them. His focus was only on the fight ahead.
Across the Arena, the revenant was also preparing for battle. It wore no armor but a plain iron helm, but its eyes burned with yellow fire. It would not allow itself to be defeated easily.
The gladiators saluted each other and bowed low to the Dark Lord. Then, as in the real Arena, he nodded to signal the start of the battle.
Immediately Edd struck out, sending a Frost Nova at Yarrl. The revenant dropped flat to the ground, ducking Edd’ attack, and transformed itself into a tiger. The creature’s body was rotting, and half its ribs showed through a hole in its putrid flesh. Its pelt was slimy with decay.
Roaring through desiccated vocal cords, the dead tiger leaped for him. Its teeth were cracked and yellow with plaque. Edd raised his spear, aiming for the tiger’s vulnerable belly. He thrust upward, and immediately, the revenant changed again. It was now a large bat with ragged wings, which flew above Edd’ head, shrieking. His spear pierced empty air.
The bat circled the Practice Arena, flying low, and landed on the far side away from Edd. It turned into a snake as soon as it touched the ground, just like before. Edd clutched his spear, determined not to let the revenant-adder bite him this time.
“Jussssst like we did before,” Yarrl taunted, black tongue flicking between its fangs. “Ready for another round?”
It’ll be different this time. Edd summoned Ice Blades to swirl around him, giving him some protection from attacks. Before the snake could move, Edd reached into his spacial ring and pulled out his spear and threw it before grabbing his sword. The attack hit home— the spear buried itself in Yarrl’s side. He stared at Edd wide-eyed, shocked. Black blood dripped down from its flank.
“First hit,” Edd said, and the snake rushed him in a fury.
He leaped out of the way, dodging its deadly fangs, and rounded on it again, spear in hand. Left, right, he feinted with the spear then threw another ice volley at the snake. It ducked, and the icicle flew harmlessly over its head. Edd gritted his teeth, irritated. Damn.
Eyes burning, fangs dripping poison, the revenant rushed him again. This time, Edd was ready. He threw up a wall of power, only requiring a fraction of what Glacial Fortress was capable of between himself and the snake.
Hissing, it tried to draw up short, but its momentum carried it forward. At the last second, it transformed itself into a bat again, barely clearing the ice wall as it took off flying. Edd sent Frost Nova after Frost Nova at the bat as it circled the Practice Arena, trying to bring his enemy down.
“Brave effort,” the revenant said, jaw flapping. “But you can’t hit—”
Edd’ next attack hit it. The bat crashed to the ground and lay there for a moment, stunned. Clutching his sword, Edd sprinted toward it, hoping he had a moment before it was able to move again.
He was not so lucky. Yarrl changed into a shriveled scorpion and lashed out with its deadly tail as soon as Edd got within range. Edd dodged— just barely— and the scorpion’s sting thudded harmlessly into the sawdust harmlessly. This time, he would not be bested by the cowardly tactics of the revenant. It pulled its tail up and prepared to strike again.
The two opponents circled each other, looking for an opening. The icicle was still buried in Yarrl’s side, and his scorpion-body was missing two legs, making its movements awkward. In this form, it would be slow to react. How could Edd take advantage of its weaknesses?
Quick as a flash, he made his move. Pelting the revenant with ice magic, he sprinted toward it, aiming for its tail. Yarrl struck out with its stinger repeatedly but, blinded by Edd’ barrage of ice, it missed every time.
Edd leaped onto Yarrl’s back and grabbed the base of its tail, drawing on the magic of Frost Nova to freeze the tail solid. He pulled his Spear out of the revenant and hit it hard with the pommel of his sword. The tail shattered into a thousand icy pieces, and the revenant hissed with pain. Spinning in circles, it tried to twist its head around to grab Edd with its mandibles, but it was too clumsy. Edd used the same technique to freeze and shatter another of its legs, then jumped off its back to see how the revenant would proceed.
“Foul tricks!” it screamed at him, limping on its seven remaining legs. Edd rolled his eyes. Using its poison to weaken him wasn’t a foul trick? Yarrl was a hypocrite.
Edd raised a hand to shoot a volley of ice at the scorpion, but Yarrl was faster. The revenant transformed into a scrawny jackal and leaped for him, teeth bared. Edd blasted it with a Frost Nova, and it fell to the ground, whining.
It became an eagle and flew toward him, ta
lons ready to rake across his skull, but Edd struck out with his spear and slapped it out of the air. It screeched angrily and became a dragon, flame burning in its belly. Edd could see the fireball building at the back of its throat as it opened its fanged mouth, preparing to strike.
Fire met ice in a wall of sparks and steam as Edd countered with an attack of his own. The dragon roared, furious as it was forced to use up its strength to fend off Edd’ ice magic. It doubled down, trying to push the ice back, but its efforts were in vain. They were evenly matched.
The creature closed its mouth suddenly and shot up into the air, letting Edd’ ice shoot past the empty space where it had just been. Edd watched the revenant dragon circle above him, waiting for it to get within range. Every time it transformed it healed itself, at least partly. How could he keep this fight from going on forever?
