War God for Hire- Gladiator

by David Burke

  A prolonged scream reached his ear and turned to see the last mage being pierced through by one of the thirty-foot-long legs of the monstrosity. Whatever the mages had been doing to hold it at bay had failed and there were more than a dozen robed figures lying unmoving on the bloody sand.

  Kyle knew he should flee or if not that he should join Saber’s group. The monstrosity was a terror out of nightmares, but the longer Kyle looked at it, the more he wanted to kill it. A rage surged up within him and this time Kyle noticed something he hadn’t noticed before. Laced into the anger was a thread of fear. This was something that Krig, god of war, had feared. Maybe fear wasn’t the correct word. It was something he had been wary of, cautious about. Kyle couldn’t say for sure.

  The creature—Aekor was the name that kept coming to his mind, so Kyle just went with it—started to scan the battlefield much as he had done. Then it cried out. “No! My children! What has happened? Who is killing my children?”

  The monster first looked at the cluster of gladiators and trainers. One of the tentacle stalks leaned towards them and a bright crimson beam flared out. It struck the ground in the midst of the gathered fighters and exploded with deadly force, sending trainers and gladiators sprawling. The blast upset the balance and, in a heartbeat, the glytharen warriors began to overwhelm the humans.

  Kyle watched as a flash of electricity flared out from Gilthan, but it wasn’t enough. They would all be dead in a moment.

  No, he decided. That wouldn’t happen. They weren’t his friends, not yet. But he respected them, especially his fellow slaves who had been forced to train as gladiators.

  He squatted down and leapt with essence-enhanced muscles. His body flew through the air and he landed behind the glytharen. He yelled out, “Hit the ground.”

  He paused for a single second, hoping the trainers and gladiators would know what he intended. From deep within himself, he drew forth War Essence and channeled it into his Divine Ability. It was so much easier than before, now that he had been to his mantle, but he needed to confine it to a much more precise area.

  Rather than a burst going out equally in all directions from him, Kyle envisioned a ring that surged out at waist level from him. A golden ring laced with the red of War Essence blasted out and cut thirty glytharen in half in an instant.

  One of the enemy warriors had blocked the blast with a now-ruined shield. It looked different from the other glytharen. Instead of a single tentacle on its head, it had two and whereas the others all used only a single sword, this one had been wielding an oversized great sword with a single hand and a massive shield with the other.

  A hissing sound came from the remaining enemy as it rushed him.

  In that moment, Kyle realized that he didn’t have a weapon in hand to block the long blade aiming for him with its blade already slick with blood. Need called to his power and his pickaxe from the quarry appeared. The silver head was shaped as a warhammer on one side and a pick-like spike on the other. The metal was covered with etched runes, as was the ebony black handle.

  Despite the miraculous appearance of his pick, Kyle still couldn’t get it around in time to stop the blade. Time was moving so slowly as the blade descended at a forty-five-degree angle for his neck, but the pick was too low to the ground to get into place. Kyle knew he needed a shield but didn’t have one, so he hoped he could move enough to survive the sword slash. Again, in response to the need, his pickaxe blurred and shifted more quickly than the eye could follow into a shield upon his arm.

  The sword blow struck, and the force pushed him back, but he was unharmed. Instinct or muscle memory was taking over, and Kyle had an idea about how this weapon worked. If it truly shaped itself to meet his need, he decided to go with it. He swung forward while it was still a shield and by the time his hips had rotated into place the weapon was reformed in its original shape and the pick was buried in the creature’s chest.

  Kyle followed through with his momentum and ripped upward, splitting the creature’s body in half before sending two more quick smashes at the pair of tentacles, crushing them against the ground. Behind him, the Aekor screamed again. Kyle looked back and saw that Lash was running around it, whipping at its legs but she seemed to only be annoying it. While they appeared to be slender, it was only a function of the overall size of the creature. They were still more than eighteen inches in diameter.

  He looked at Saber and said, “Get as many of them out of here as you can. I will try to stall this thing. But I need you all to be gone for what I have in mind.”

  It was obvious that the head trainer wanted to ask him a question but understood the urgency of the situation and simply yelled, “You heard the man. Make for the exit now.”

  A rose-colored blast sent Lash flying to the ground where she spasmed. Kyle rushed to her but when she saw his weapon, she had regained enough composure to ask, “Where did you get that weapon?”

  “I think you know,” was all that Kyle said as he charged the Aekor. Marie was a deadly fighter but not very well equipped for fighting a monster with thirty-foot-long legs and a chitinous armor that seemed to repel all her blows. He charged across the distance to the creature in four long steps and then leapt into the air.

  As he flew up, he turned his pickaxe to land the hammer head. The Aekor’s body was too large for the spike to pierce deep enough, so the blunt force seemed more likely to do something. When he made contact, it was like swinging a baseball bat into a tree.

  Only this time the bat didn’t break, and neither did he.

  The Aekor stumbled back under the impact of his essence-enhanced blow, while Kyle fell to the ground and landed on his feet, weapon at the ready.

  The creature howled in pain and crashed into the stone seating. The stadium wall crumbled under its massive weight and the force of the impact. Blood was dripping down from the wound and when the creature opened its central eye again, it was bloodshot. Kyle hoped that meant he had caused internal bleeding.

  Its maw opened, and it cried out, “None shall stop us. My kin will claim what is ours again.”

  Kyle didn’t answer but simply stood there, legs spread, and his weapon held at the ready. Behind him he heard Marie say, “Let me handle this. I hadn’t wanted to use this, but I will.”

  She held up her arm that had a silver armor piece just above the elbow. The metal slid down to her wrist and a bright red ray blasted out of it like some high-tech laser which cut through the thick carapace of the Aekor. Green blood and viscera poured out of the six-foot-long cut that opened up one side of its body.

  Marie panted in obvious exhaustion. “I can only do that once or twice more. Hopefully, it is enough.”

  Kyle saw the Aekor struggling back to its feet and didn’t know if it would be enough. But that was answered as its giant eye blinked and a pulse of what he could only describe as grayness settled over everything. It was like all color, sound, smell, and taste had been drained out of the world for three hundred feet in every direction of the monster.

  Marie shrieked in frustration, while holding the weapon up again. Kyle looked at her and yelled, “Shoot it again. It’s getting back up.”

  “I’m trying, but I can’t seem to touch my essence. The armguard, my whip, breastplate, none of them will work if I don’t have essence,” she replied.

  Kyle searched inside himself. It felt different that was for sure, but he could still feel the War Essence coursing through his body. But then he realized that he couldn’t feel any Earth Essence. Whatever the Aekor did cut him off from the one but not from War Essence.

  “Servant of the usurpers. I can feel their taint upon you. But you shall not prevail. I am but the first drawn to this spot by the gathering of corrupt energy here,” the Aekor bellowed.

  “Stay back,” Kyle said as he charged again. He rushed in and triggered Rage Burst again. It sliced into the creature’s legs but didn’t cut all the way through the chitinous armor. So, he triggered it again and again in two
more waves until it cut right through the foremost leg of the Aekor.

  Its heavy orb of a body fell to the sand of the arena with two legs struggling to keep some type of balance. Kyle then flung his weapon spinning end over end until it sunk deep into the massive central eye. The creatures scream at that point was greater than anything it had made yet. But all around, the gray aura began to flicker and fade.

  The tentacles atop its head all blasted at Kyle and Marie. Each was struck by multiple blasts. He didn’t know what happened to Lash but he felt deathly energy stealing the life from his body while another ray paralyzed him and a third sucked the very air out of his lungs. Blackness threatened to claim his vision, but he gathered the raw essence within him and as he drifted on the edge of consciousness called out, “Hilde.”

  Interlude 1 - When Exes Meet

  Kyle passed into unconsciousness and so didn’t get to see the plume of flame that erupted in the air fifty feet over his head. It shot so far up into the sky that it was visible from the city walls of Thena more than a mile away. In the air, Hilde appeared, not as a disembodied spirit in the mantle, but in the flesh, called forth by the will and power of her master.

  As Hilde erupted into the sky of Verden, she reviewed the situation instantly with the skill of a seasoned tactician. The weakened enemy was identified. The potential traitor getting back up to attack again. At least it could be said about the woman that she didn’t quit. She was a hardened warrior. Of course, what else could be expected of anyone that her master had chosen and trained?

  Then her eyes settled onto Krig—no, that wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t the same Krig. He had never made her feel like this one did. Kyle was something new and something old, incredibly old, all wrapped up into one. His construct was unmoving on the sand, but he was filled with essence and the stream of essence that was keeping her in this realm extended from him like a slender cord of raw energy, invisible to any but truly skilled third tier beings.

  It didn’t matter that he was still alive. The fact that this monster had dared to attack him was enough to make her already fiery nature quicken even more. She held out a hand and blasted flame into the great gash that had been opened up by the magical item Krig had gifted to Marie several decades ago.

  The Aekor screeched in pain and called out to her. But she had no ears for it. She didn’t know what kind of beast this was, but from inside the mantle she had sensed some of the hatred that her master had for this creature. It wasn’t a fiend, so not her enemy on sight, but she also couldn’t identify it as any natural creature. She knew a little of the glytharen, but not much.

  It pleaded for mercy from her as she burnt it from the inside. It offered her power and freedom, but for the first time in her century of service, the war god’s yoke was not heavy. She wanted to serve him and hoped against hope that he would prove to be all that he claimed to be. So instead of mercy, she offered more flame.

  Flame cleansed everything.

  A great gout of white-hot flame blasted from her as her nova attack. It turned the sand of the arena floor into glass for thirty feet around the shrieking Aekor. The great eye, still pierced by Kyle’s soul bound weapon, boiled in the creature’s body. Then silence settled in and she spiraled down on the thermals with her wings extended.

  When she landed on the ground, she formed a spear of flame and walked to the creature. She poked it with the fiery tip of her weapon, and it didn’t move at all. Upon closer investigation, she saw that it was nothing but a hollow shell now, its innards having been entirely consumed. A smile crossed her lips as she had avenged her master.

  Hilde then turned to go to Kyle, but found Marie already kneeling next to him. Her flames flared brightly again as she saw the woman stroke her master’s face. It wasn’t that she was jealous as a mortal woman. She would delight to have her master bring any number of powerful women to his bed. It could only make him stronger. The one thing that Krig had never understood about battle was the idea of having true allies, not just minions. In her mind, it was a shortcoming of all the gods.

  “Take your hands off of him, traitor.” Hilde commanded.

  Marie looked up at her with confusion on her face. “Qua’ardet Flammaurorae?” Her voice conveyed her uncertainty.

  “Yes, I see that you remember me, even if you didn’t remember your Master,” the celestial said.

  The blonde warrior looked down at Kyle then back at Hilde. “It is him, isn’t it?”

  “Of course, no other could possess that aura. Look into him deeply, and you will see it.”

  “But I thought he had died,” Marie said, practically wailing as she spoke.

  “And how long did you wait until you became a whore for Begaer? Was it a week, a month, an entire year?” Hilde asked.

  “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it was like,” Marie protested.

  “No, I don’t care. I must leave, but he is starting to wake. If you betray him, I will end you. There will be nowhere on Verden or the planes that you can hide from me. So, tread carefully,” Hilde said, imperiously.

  She felt the link breaking down. Whatever amount of raw essence Kyle had used to summon her was expended and she would have to return to the mantle. She knelt beside him and ran her hand across his face. It was so different to be able to touch him. She still remembered his touch from inside the mantle, but it was not the same as physical contact.

  For just a moment, she ignored the rest of the world, all the things that he, no they, had to accomplish. She focused instead on his breathing. His chest was rising evenly. The small wounds he had were healing up nicely. She could hear the sound of his heart beating. His heart. Oh, how she wanted to believe that he could be what he kept promising her he would be.

  Almost a century of lusting after Krig without ever getting so much as the time of day from him had her on edge. She wasn’t the only one. The weapon maidens had taken actual marriage vows and considered themselves to be married to Krig. Their vows had included chastity and each of them had sworn to win his heart and be the first women in his life.

  None had succeeded, and Hilde hadn’t been any luckier than they.

  Then along came Kyle.

  He had the same commanding presence, the same innate power to his aura. It was the sort of thing that a woman could lean into. She knew her own worth, and that meant that she needed a man who was worthy of her.

  Kyle was a greater threat to her than Krig ever had been. If she had ever been able to seduce Krig, it might have led to some no strings attached fun. But with Kyle, he promised an emotional commitment too. Hilde believed his good intentions, but she doubted that he understood what it would mean once he began to integrate with his mantle more.

  A god was simply above other beings. Sadly, that included even celestials. With Krig, she might have been content to have some fun, but with Kyle she risked falling in love. He was strong, but sweet and so willing to promise her things that she didn’t believe he would keep once he began to grow.

  She shook her head. She needed to stay strong. Enjoy this connection while it lasted, but not lose her heart to him. Better if he spread his interest between a number of women, because she wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep guarding her heart if he kept offering her a real connection. Then she looked up at Marie and thought that maybe there were some women who weren’t safe for him, especially while he still had the emotions of a mortal.

  As she started to fade, she snapped one more thing at Marie, “Don’t try to use your whore wiles on him.”

  After Hilde was gone, Marie shook her head. Whore wiles? If this were Krig, that would be the last thing that would work.

  Then he opened his eyes and she stared into those deep pools of blue that had prompted her to make her vow more than a hundred years ago.

  Chapter 29 - Clean Up

  When Kyle woke up, he had already been taken down below and was on the floor of the infirmary. As he sat up, no one even noticed. There were sim
ply too many injured, and Selma and the rest of the flesh mages and their assistants were too busy.

  He couldn’t help but be pleased to see Soren struggling on one of the tables. Two of his guards were next to him and he was barking at a junior flesh mage who was trying to close up a shallow cut he had taken to his prodigious belly. Kyle imagined that back home it wouldn’t have even required stitches, but the way the man was moaning you would have thought he had been gutted.

  “Get Mistress Selma over here now. I’m not going to end up with a scar because you botched this,” the noble demanded.

  “Lord Soren, I keep telling you, that if you only lie still, I will have this sorted in a couple minutes,” the beleaguered mage replied.

  “I don’t want your clumsy hands botching this up,” Soren snapped.

  “Mistress Selma is busy now healing those with life threatening injuries…” the mage began.

  Soren slapped the young man interrupting whatever he was going to say. “You mean that she is busy treating my property. You don’t pay someone to mend your shirt before you fix the wound beneath. Well, I don’t care what happens to those slaves. Get her over here this moment.”

  Kyle had heard just about enough. Something about the tubby shack of shit shoved into a torn toga had his blood boiling. Entitled rich people were the same in any world, but here they didn’t even seem to make any pretense about caring about other people. At least back home, the team owners had gone out of their way to treat him with respect and ensure that he stayed healthy, so that he could make them more money undoubtedly.

  He stood up to put an end to the man’s blathering. The irony of the fact that he had become a multi-millionaire playing a children’s game was completely lost on him. He had always thought of himself as a worker who earned his money, not as some spoiled richie who’d inherited it.