by David Burke
“Yes, at that stage. At the end of the ten weeks, they have a short break followed by the fall harvest festival. It is celebrated by three days of beast matches. Depending on the type of monster, fighters will be matched against them in varying numbers. Those matches are lethal. The fighters are generally given an advantage, but there are still deaths and occasionally wounds that the healers can’t fix, although those are rare,” Hilde said.
“I guess I can deal with that,” Kyle nodded.
“Then on the final day of the harvest festival, there will be the grand melee. Six of the teams will fight against six of the other teams. The division of those teams is decided by a vote from all the citizens, or at least those who are interested in the games, albeit that is most of them. Again, it is supposed to be non-lethal,” Hilde said.
“What a great way to end it all,” Kyle said. He was remembering the glory of standing under the lights and hearing the crowd shouting his name.
“Except that isn’t the end. There is still the crucible. Four weeks of matches, all fought to the death and concluding in a final match on the eve of the new year. The final fighter is named the King of the Arena,” Hilde said grimly.
“Let me guess, he is granted his freedom or something like that?” Kyle asked.
Hilde burst out into laughter. “As though any owner would ever release such a valuable slave. No, if the fighter is a free man, he will be given riches and glory. If he is a slave, his owner will get the riches, and the slave will be treated just like a prized racehorse.”
Kyle felt his body tense at that. He knew this wasn’t Earth. It wasn’t that he was afraid to fight or even die, especially given that he had already apparently died to a bullet from some psycho groupie. He had proven that he was willing to fight for his freedom at the quarry. Somehow it felt different though, the idea of stepping into a ring with the intention of killing a man solely for the purpose of advancing in some tournament.
Presumably sensing the direction of his thoughts, Hilde spoke softly to him, “You won’t avoid fighting here. Verden is a harder world than your Earth. It is all too often kill or be killed, and only strength provides peace. In that way, I am in complete agreement with your former self.”
The weight of this reality settled on Kyle. He prided himself on being decisive, but he was definitely having a moment of doubt. He still wasn’t one hundred percent certain that this wasn’t a dream.
Trying to calm himself, he felt the essence within wash over him. The rightness of combat and the surety that he could excel at anything filled him. Kyle knew in that moment that there was still a part of Krig in him. He worried about changing and becoming something other than himself, but he couldn’t let that hold him back. If this was the hand he had been dealt, then he would make it a winner.
“Very well. If you think this is the best place to learn to fight, then I will stay, for now.” As Kyle spoke the words, even inside his own head, he felt a certain finality click into place.
Chapter 9 - Saber
“Then you might as well just sit up. That will probably get things going and we will find out if my guess was correct,” Hilde said.
Nothing for it but to try, Kyle sat up and opened his eyes. When he did, he noticed that his arms and legs were definitely feeling sluggish. They weren’t immobilized, like before, but simply felt like they weighed a ton each.
The two guards both leapt to attention. A pair of spear tips were instantly pointed at him, and one of the men called out.
While they were waiting for whoever was coming, Kyle took the time to study his surroundings. The two soldiers were wearing the same type of leather armor with some circular insignia on the front. Each had a gladius on his hip, with a dagger on the opposite side and a spear in his hands.
Sure enough, the room they were in was clearly underground. Kyle could see through barred windows in the ceiling that there was weak light streaming in. It was like he was in a cell set into the ground. The walls were all stone held together without any mortar or obvious gaps, very different from the flimsy walls of Lucas and Freja’s home. On the wall were a pair of glowing lights on sconces set in the stone.
It struck him as he looked around, that there were no doors in the cell. He had to assume the only way in and out was through the bars at the top of the room. Must be some kind of hinges that he couldn’t see. That would definitely make escaping harder, which only reinforced his decision to go along with things for now.
The room was a fairly decent size, about fifteen by fifteen with the bars overhead being twelve feet up, not out of his reach by any means. There was a small bed where he had been laying. Although he supposed it probably wasn’t that small, he was just on the large side. A nightstand of sorts, on the other side, had a pitcher of water, cup, plate, bowl, and spoon.
Cut into the floor in a corner opposite the bed was a tiled hole that looked like one of those squat toilets. So apparently, he was expected to stay here for a long time or at least long enough that they didn’t want to have to remove him or his waste products frequently. That wasn’t exactly encouraging.
By the time he had taken in the room though, he heard voices approaching. The fat man who had been yelling at Darron, along with the two wizards and another couple of guards could be seen overhead. The fat man looked down at him and called out.
Thankfully, Hilde started translating right away. “He is asking if you are ready to talk reasonably.”
Kyle didn’t wait for her to offer him the words but simply grunted and nodded his acquiescence.
The fat man seemed pleased. He looked at one of the mages, who simply shrugged his shoulders. A frown passed across the fat man’s face again as he said, “What am I paying you for, then?”
The mage responded, “I told you before, Lord Soren, there is something different about this one. He is holding a great deal of essence, yet I can’t detect any type of magical ability in him.”
“But you can control him?” The fat man, who Kyle now knew as Soren, asked.
“Yes, as long as he has those manacles on, not even a full-blooded troll could break free. But remember it costs essence to immobilize him. Even now, just slowing him drains me of my essence,” the mage answered.
“That is what you are here for. Cease your complaining and do your job.” Then Soren looked back down at Kyle. “Very well. Just so we are clear, you are here in Thena with no papers and no citizenship. I have captured you, and you are now a registered slave belonging to House Sorengaard. You may call me Lord Soren, and as long as you behave yourself, we will get along wonderfully.
“You are here because my brother Darron, the stone-headed fool that he is, did something right for the first time. You have great potential as a fighter, even if you require training, but that is what we do here. If you progress in your training, you will be sold to one of the teams and I will turn a tidy profit. You want that, because you want me to be happy.
“When I am happy with you, you will get better food, drink, women, and the comforts of life. Disappoint me and you will go hungry or feel the lash upon your back. I am a fair master, and you are potentially valuable. Now, it is up to you to prove that you are, indeed, valuable. It is clear you are a barbarian, for you can’t speak very well. Nod if you understand.”
Kyle nodded. Hilde had been filling him in as best she could. Sorengaard was apparently one of the richest families in all of Thena. Soren was the middle of three brothers. Darron was the youngest, and their older brother, Kamor, was a senator. Soren had been running the arena for nearly a decade and because of his position, their family couldn’t have a gladiator team, but they still trained some of the best which they sold to the official teams.
The bars slid into a recessed space in the stone, but try as he might, Kyle couldn’t see where any lever had been operated to move them. He looked at the second mage who had not spoken.
There was something different about him. It was like he was pulsing with energy
.
“He is using Earth Essence to shape the stone and allow the bars to move to the side. Good that you sensed he was doing something, but you need to become more attuned to the essence around you,” Hilde said.
“What about the other mage? Is he a fire mage?” Kyle asked as a ladder was extended down into his cell for him to climb out.
“For a mortal, he displayed good control of Sky and War Essence to create fire at the quarry. But remember that mortal wizards can have more than one type of essence. From what I can detect, his primary type is Deceit Essence,” Hilde answered.
While climbing up, he asked, “So he is good at lying?”
“No. Just like you used War Essence to break the quarry wall, other essences can be used in different ways. Right now, he is using it to power the manacles you are wearing. That is why your arms and legs feel so heavy. Deceit is about control, so that is not a strange thing. And earlier he tried to use it to test you for deceit, but that was when he told Soren that he couldn’t say for sure,” Hilde responded.
Kyle didn’t say anything more but thought to himself that it was only right that a mortal not be able to detect anything about him. He was supposed to be a war god after all. For a second, he wondered why he’d had such an odd thought, but didn’t spend much time worrying about it as he reached the top.
He held his hands to his sides as though to demonstrate that he was going to be compliant. Soren pointed to the first mage and said, “This is Ikari, he is head mage of the arena. You will obey his commands as though they were mine. For that matter, you should listen to any of the mages or guards here. Now, he will take you to be evaluated and to meet the others you will be training with.”
Without waiting for a response, Soren left. The second mage and one of the guards followed after him. The other three guards and Ikari stayed with Kyle.
The mage said, “Well, let’s get this over with, and then we will need to find a tutor for you. You will need to understand enough to follow commands.”
Kyle led through the maze of tunnels under the arena. They finally got to a larger room where he found six others waiting for him. The room was probably thirty by twenty and around the walls were a dozen guards with spears keeping watch on those he presumed were other fighters.
One of them was being checked out by a doctor of sorts, who was peering at her teeth. Kyle wasn’t sure if he was more shocked that she was a woman or that she was furry all over, sorta like a werewolf. It didn’t do anything to hide her curves though. Her breasts were bound tightly to her chest by a band of cloth, he presumed to keep them stable when she moved. Below, her private parts were covered by a short, loose skirt. Her feet were bare but looked well-equipped for running.
As he looked at her, he could see that she had a very human face, despite some light fur on her cheeks. Her canine teeth were more pronounced as she was being inspected, but she bore it all without complaint.
Kyle was prodded to the end of the line but tried to at least get a brief look at the others. One was so tall that he towered over Kyle by at least two feet. He was equally broad. His back was humped, arms longer than seemed proper and he had a greenish hue to his skin, but not like he was sick. Patches of coarse black hair sprouted out at seemingly random spots on his skin and all he wore was a loin cloth. Two larger teeth jutted up from his lower lip. His flat forehead did not promise significant intelligence.
Three of the men were just what he expected, average-sized, albeit small compared to him, but lithe and muscular. Clearly, they were aware of what was going on around them but were biding their time.
The sixth was also not completely human, judging from his long purple hair, pointed ears, and a face that was too pretty for a man. He alone of the others was fully dressed. Although truthfully, Kyle realized that he himself, was bare chested, and only in his trousers and boots. The elf, for that was what Kyle assumed he was, stood there in a loose one-piece garment that covered him from neck to ankle and all the way down his arms. It almost looked like silken pajamas.
A loud voice interrupted his thoughts as a man strode into the room and called for everyone’s attention. He was maybe slightly over six feet tall, muscular but not stocky, and moved with a certain deadly grace. His voice was that of a man used to barking orders and having them obeyed. Kyle had seen more than one coach who liked to make an entrance like this into the locker room.
“Okay, you mutts. My name is Saber. And yes, that was my arena name, and yes, it is what you are going to call me. I am the head instructor here at the arena. I work for the arena and because of that, Lord Soren, but my mission here—nay, my very reason for living—is to train great fighters. If, someday, one of you wins glory and fame, I want it to be known that you were a student of Saber, a protege even. At least, that is how I will spin the tale.
“Whether you choose to learn from me is up to you. I will not force it. Oh, you will still work if you don’t want to train, but as I like to say, if you don’t want to be smart you will at least get strong. If, on the other hand, you want to take my tutelage seriously, then you will pay close attention to all that I say. I will turn you into a fighter who at least won’t stab his own foot and, for those of you with any real knack for this, I am your best chance to not end your days bleeding out onto the sand of the arena.”
Kyle was now well and truly paying attention. If this man’s confidence was deserved, then he was exactly what Kyle needed.
“First, Selma, our head flesh mage, will perform racial testing on you. You may or may not know that the rules of the arena require that to be a fighter and not a beast in the arena, you must be at least fifty percent human or elf. Since the cataclysm three years ago broke open the earth, and the dwarves have made peace with Thena and the other city states as well as the elven tribes, it has been decreed that fifty percent dwarf is also sufficient.
“Just stand still and she will cast her spell to confirm that House Sorengaard hasn’t bought defective merchandise. And pay her respect. She and her staff are the only reason that many a good fighter has been able to walk again.”
Kyle wanted to ask Hilde about the idea of a flesh mage. That didn’t seem to mesh with any of the essence types she had explained to him, but he also wanted to learn about these other fighters. These were likely to either be his competition or teammates, and Kyle never passed up the opportunity to learn more about those he trained with.
The first to be tested was the wolf-girl. Hilde’s voice in his head said, “The proper name, or at least their preferred name, is Lycan. Never call them werewolves. They are descended from northern barbarian tribes and a fiend who runs the tundra shaped like a giant wolf.”
Selma held out a two-foot rod with a crystal sphere on the end. Light whirled in it and then she pronounced the results, but they were also displayed by a translucent screen in the air, not that Kyle could read the text on it.
Kierra, lycan. Human base: 61%.
Strength: 5, Agility: 11, Constitution: 9.
Kyle couldn’t help but be impressed. She might be a woman standing only a little more than five and half feet tall but if that was accurate, she could bench press five hundred pounds and had superhuman agility along with an impressive constitution.
It was a good reminder to him that he didn’t know the rules here and so shouldn’t underestimate anyone. The woman, Kierra, simply grunted and nodded, so Selma moved on to the mountain of flesh standing next to her.
Once again, she used the rod and announced the results.
Skrug, mountain troll. Human base: 50%.
Strength: 13, Agility: 1, Constitution: 14.
After just two fighters, Kyle was not feeling so special anymore. Both of them had a stat that was into the second tier. He did note that mental stats were either not tested by the rod or else they simply didn’t care about those results.
“Did you literally just pout because some numbers on a screen say those mortals are special?” Hilde asked.
“Suddenly my fifteen strength doesn’t seem like enough to get me through the arena, but don’t worry. I will figure this out. Nobody can keep me down,” Kyle replied.
“I told you this wasn’t about strength. It never was. This is about essence, and more than just power, it is about how you use that power. Krig was likely the strongest of the gods, but that wasn’t what allowed him to stand up to five other gods in battle and almost win. It was his tactical mind and ability to react to the situation.”
“I’ve always been good at figuring out a way to win in any situation. So, I’ve got this.”
As Kyle was talking to Hilde, he realized that he had missed hearing the stats of two of the more normal looking guys.
Again, his angelic guide answered, “You didn’t miss anything. At least the lycan and the troll have a chance to make it into tier two. Those other three are just normal mortals. They are probably skilled fighters but no stats above a five.
“Honestly, since half-monsters started to be allowed to fight, there hasn’t been much chance for plain ol’ mortals to win. Before I became trapped in the void, the last three arena champions had all possessed either celestial or fiendish ancestry,” Hilde said.
He shushed her though, because now the testing rod was in front of the elf next to him. The results popped up and they were not exactly what he had been expecting.
Gilthan, dragon. Elven base: 75%.
Strength: 7, Agility: 9, Constitution: 6.
Kyle didn’t really have time to marvel at the fact that this dude was part dragon or to wonder why none of his stats were tier two, because now it was his turn to be tested. He heard Hilde hiss inside his head, “Focus on stealth. Think about hiding.”
He chuckled. She had dropped that on him at the last second. Probably because she didn’t trust him to not overthink it. Fair enough. Still, he focused on it as he felt the tendrils of magic pass through his skin. It was fascinating; now that he knew what to look for, he seemed to be able to see the essence in use.
