Magium

by Chris Michael Wilson

  “Then throw some spears!” Arraka shouts. “Do I really have to tell you everything? You’ve got spears mounted on the walls. Use them.”

  Now that Arraka mentions it, I see that there are indeed spears and various other weapons mounted on the walls of the arena. They must have been placed there to give people who didn’t have any weapons when they got captured an equal chance in the fighting event. Hadrik mumbles something under his breath, and he goes to get one of the spears. He then tosses it at one of the manticores, and the spear lodges itself into its chest, causing blood to spray out while the creature falls towards the ground. Before the creature reaches the soil, the dwarf grabs two more spears, and he throws them in quick succession towards two of the other manticores, killing them as well.

  The last remaining manticore decides that the skies are no longer safe, so it quickly dives down towards Hadrik, to end the fight with one big final clash. Hadrik does not wait for the creature to reach him, and he makes a jump, grabbing it from the air, and doing a spinning drop, crushing the beast’s head into the ground.

  He did it… The crazy bastard did it. He took both waves of monsters down all by himself, and he barely even got scratched.

  The crowds are now cheering louder than ever before. Hadrik’s teammates, who had been hiding this whole time, come running towards the dwarf, and they raise him in the air, while chanting his name repeatedly.

  “Hadrik! Hadrik! Hadrik!” they keep saying, while the crowds are all cheering.

  “Don’t think that you’re getting off that easy, you cowardly dogs,” Hadrik says, with a grin, while his teammates are throwing him up and down. “When we get out of here, you’re going to buy me a year’s worth of drinks.”

  “What is the meaning of this?!” I hear the ambassador of Ollendor shout from above.

  “Ambassador!” says Venard, the owner of the arena. “I see that you’ve decided to join us after all! Would you like some wine?”

  The two of them seem to be talking from a private room above our division’s area. Since my teammates are not reacting to their voices in any way, I’m assuming that I am the only one able to hear this conversation, thanks to my maxed hearing stat.

  “Why is the dwarf here?” the ambassador says. “He wasn’t supposed to be here! He’s going to ruin everything!”

  “Calm down, ambassador,” Venard says. “The dwarf came here with a letter of admission signed by the king himself. We couldn’t just turn him down.”

  “Just because you couldn’t turn him down,” the ambassador says, “it doesn’t mean that you have to let him make a mockery of your entire arena!”

  “But he hasn’t done that at all, ambassador,” the owner says. “Quite the contrary, in fact. He has provided us with a spectacle that this arena has not seen for ages, and the crowds love it. The show has only just started, and it’s already exceeded all of my expectations!”

  “I don’t care about your expectations!” the ambassador shouts. “I want him out, do you understand? I do not want him to set foot in that arena ever again!”

  “Hmm,” Venard says. “Truth be told, I also think that allowing the dwarf to wreak havoc any longer than he already has would make the show too predictable and boring. Very well, ambassador. I will speak with the staff in charge of arranging the fights to make some modifications in the schedule. You will not be seeing him again.”

  After they’ve finished their discussion, the room above falls silent again. Meanwhile, on the outside, the crowds have still not stopped cheering, since the end of the previous fight. It takes about another minute for the cheering to finally die down, and for Hadrik and the others to step off the stage, so that the next division can enter the fighting area.

  Shortly before the next division gets announced, Leila finally comes back from the locker room, with a few pages of my notebook in her hand.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Leila writes. “I got retained by a guard on my way to the lockers. He had to go and get me a pass from the owner before I could proceed.”

  “No problem,” I tell her. “Are those all the pages?”

  “This is all I could find,” Leila writes. “Behaviors, weaknesses, and some diagrams.”

  “Perfect,” I tell her. “That’s all we need.”

  I take the notes from her hands and I study them closely. It doesn’t take me long to realize that the desert marauders were indeed not much different from giant scorpions. Even their weaknesses are the same. I guess this whole trip that I sent Leila on turned out to be nothing but a huge waste of time.

  The gate to the third division is now opening. The first one to come out of it is none other than Daren. His teammates also follow him after a short period of time, but they are looking a bit apprehensive.

  “For your information,” the announcer says, “the man with the scar who just entered the arena is known as Daren, the healer in armor. He is a well-known hero from outside of Varathia who has travelled the world and has saved countless lives throughout the years. You may have heard of him from various newspapers in the past. Today, he will be participating in our arena event as our special guest. Let us have a warm round of applause for the hero Daren!”

  All of the spectators begin clapping, as Daren and his teammates get closer to the center of the arena and ready their weapons.

  “Okay, listen up!” Bruce tells us, while the gladiators are still waiting to begin their fight. “After watching the two fights from before, I think that we need to change our battle strategy.”

  “Have you gone daft?” the disinherited noble thug says. “Why would we change our tactics a few minutes before the battle?”

  “Because the way we are now, we’re going to lose,” Bruce says. “We don’t have any teamwork. We should try being more like those gladiators in the first division. You saw how well they worked together.”

  “The gladiators from the first division are all dead,” the mage says.

  “Damn it, you know what I mean!” Bruce says. “I’m talking about assigning roles to everyone. You all saw how they operated. One guy was the leader, another one was staying behind, to warn them of danger, some of them were decoys, and others were the main fighters. If we did that too, we’d be a lot more organized.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” I say. “If we each have a role, and we know what we’re doing, there will be less chance of panic.”

  “Oh yeah?” the mage asks. “That’s probably what those guys from the first fight thought too. But when their leader died, all of their organization went down the drain.”

  “It’s still better than fighting in complete chaos from the very beginning!” Bruce says.

  “And who exactly is going to be our leader?” the disinherited thug asks Bruce. “You? Don’t make me laugh. I’d rather get eaten by a manticore than have to listen to any of your orders.”

  “I never said that I would be leader,” Bruce says. “We can vote on who gets to be leader.”

  “Forget it,” the mage says. “I don’t care who the leader is. I’m not leaving my survival in the hands of a person that I barely even know. It’s not going to happen.”

  While Bruce and the others were fighting, the third division’s first round was getting ready to start.

  “Release the tramplers!” the announcer says.

  Several creatures that look like a cross-breed between a bull and a rhinocerus are now slowly entering the fighting area. Each trampler has two horns on its forehead, one horn on its snout, and a tail that looks like it has a spiked mace attached to the end. I’ve also read that their skin is so tough that they may as well be wearing full plate armor. As their name suggests, tramplers will usually engage in battle by rushing towards their opponents and attempting to trample them to their deaths.

  Sure enough, the tramplers do not wait for long, and they start rushing towards the gladiators at full speed.

  “If you want to live, stay behind me,” Daren tells the other gladiators.

  Daren’s te
ammates are looking terrified. It only takes them a few seconds of watching the beasts get closer and closer for them to completely forget Daren’s warning and to start running for their lives.

  Daren lets out a deep sigh, and he continues to stand his ground, with his sword at the ready. As soon as one of the tramplers comes within reach of his blade, he steps to the side, and he cuts off the beast’s head in one single motion, causing the trampler’s headless body to fall on the ground and to keep sliding forward on its belly for a few more feet, until its momentum is finally gone.

  “Gods be damned,” I hear Bruce shout behind me. “Why won’t you listen to me? We’re not going to stand a chance in the arena if we don’t get our act together!”

  “You don’t need to be so negative, Bruce,” Wilhelm says, with a calm tone. “I’m sure that we’ll handle ourselves one way or another. The important thing is that we had that discussion yesterday about the creatures’ weaknesses. As long as survival is the primary goal in all of our minds, we’ll surely put that information to the best of uses.”

  The tramplers have finished their first tour of the arena, and they’re now coming back towards Daren for a second round. Some of his teammates have managed to evade the stampede, but two of them were not so lucky, and they got trampled to death before they could get out of harm’s way. Daren waits patiently until the last moment yet again, and then he runs his blade through the side of one of the creatures, slicing it in half. The crowds are going wild once more.

  Seeing that the first wave of beasts is already being dealt with, the announcer signals the beginning of the second wave. Three giant cobras are now making their way towards Daren, while the tramplers decide to try chasing some of the easier prey. The cobras are both taller and wider than Daren, but their size is not the only dangerous thing about them. By the looks of the black spots on their necks, I’m almost certain that these are in fact acid-spitting cobras, and not regular ones.

  Acid that comes from cobras is not as strong as the acid from mage spells, but it’s definitely not something to be sneezed at. While it may not significantly damage weapons and armor that have been sufficiently enchanted, the acid from a cobra can still burn through most regular metals in a matter of minutes, and it can burn through human flesh in a matter of seconds.

  Being now faced with ranged attackers, Daren decides that it is no longer safe to maintain his position, and he switches to the offensive. Advancing slowly, with his shield in front, Daren gradually closes the gap between himself and the cobras, until he gets near enough to be able to make a dash attack. The cobras have been spitting at him all this time, but judging by the impact it’s had on Daren’s shield, they may as well have been spraying water.

  Daren makes a dash towards one of the cobras, and he slices its head off in one strike. Before the other two get to attack him, he bashes one with his shield, while stabbing the other through the mouth with his sword. He then makes sure that the third cobra is still dizzy, and he finishes it off as well, with one well-timed slash of his blade.

  While Daren was busy with the cobras, the other gladiators had somehow managed to bring down one of the tramplers by themselves. Seeing that the other tramplers are not planning to attack him anymore, Daren decides to go help the others kill off the remaining creatures.

  “If none of you are going to listen to reason, then I’ll fight on my own!” Bruce shouts again, this time louder than before. “I don’t plan on getting killed to save your sorry behinds!”

  “I very much doubt that anyone was counting on your help to begin with,” Wilhelm says. “Now could you please keep quiet? Our battle will begin shortly, and I would like to concentrate.”

  Great. Our fight didn’t even start yet, and our team is already falling apart. I should have known from the beginning that these people couldn’t be trusted.

  There is a very loud burst of cheering coming from the outside. It appears that Daren and the other surviving gladiators have finally defeated all of the creatures. The announcer is signaling them to leave the fighting area, so that the show can proceed.

  As Daren and the others are getting ready to leave, a man dressed in a dark blue robe with a hood on his head comes from behind me, and he joins my side by the iron grating.

  “Who are you?” I ask him, even though I can probably already guess the answer.

  “I am a last minute addition to your division,” the man says. “I’ve been sent here to solve your troubles.”

  The man is carrying two scythes in his hands, that both have sapphires encrusted into their hilts.

  “You were sent here by the lessathi?” I ask him in a low voice, in order to make sure that none of the others hear me. “What were they thinking? Don’t tell me that you plan to fight all of the monsters by yourself?”

  “I will uphold our end of the bargain,” the lessathi says. “Make sure that you uphold yours when the time comes.”

  “Uh, yes,” I say. “Yes, of course…”

  The lessathi suddenly turns his head towards me, with an expression of shock and rage in his eyes.

  “You are lying!” he says.

  “What?” I ask him. “No, I was telling the truth!”

  “You are a fool!” the lessathi shouts. “Any person with passable skills in reading auras could tell that you are lying from the way your aura is trembling right now. Don’t you have any idea what happens to people that lie to us? I should kill you right now for your insolence.”

  “Hey, what’s going on, here?” Bruce asks, after hearing the lessathi’s shouts. “Who are you, and what are you doing in our division?”

  The lessathi calms down, and he puts his scythes away when he sees Bruce confront him. It seems that despite his earlier remark, he would rather avoid a conflict that would draw too much attention to himself.

  “The deal is off,” the lessathi says, as he heads out of our division’s area. “Enjoy your last fight.”

  He then walks out the door, without saying another word.

  “Damn it, who was that?” Bruce says. “What did he want?”

  “No idea,” I say.

  Leila looks at me suspiciously, but she says nothing. Meanwhile, the iron grating in front of us is finally being raised. We all make our way towards the center of the arena, like all the divisions before us.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the fourth division!” the announcer says.

  The crowd watches us in complete silence, as we make our way past all the animal carcasses, in order to reach our destination. It’s clear that they do not recognize anyone from our division. They’re probably already thinking that we’re going to get butchered, like that first division from earlier. I hope we won’t end up proving them right.

  We hear a lion’s roar coming from beyond the gates leading to the creatures’ den. Two manticores walk out of the den, and then they immediately soar to the sky, just like the ones that fought the first division. Coming from behind them, three desert marauders are now making their way into the fighting area as well. But those aren’t the only beasts that are coming our way. Two giant acid-spitting cobras are now also slithering their way out of the den, and if my ears are not failing me, I think I can also hear the sounds of a few tramplers, getting ready to charge towards us.

  “For this fight, we are going to try something a little different,” the announcer says. “The members of the fourth division will have to fight not two, not three, but four different types of our strongest creatures, and they’ll have to kill them all if they want to advance to the next round. This change in our schedule was a personal request from our esteemed arena owner, mister Venard.”

  That bastard. Is this his way of telling me that in order to make it out of here alive, I’ll need to outperform both Hadrik and Daren? You have got to be kidding me!

  “Just make sure that you all follow my orders, and everything will be alright!” Bruce says.

  “I knew it!” the ex-noble thug says. “I knew that you would start playing lea
der as soon as we’d get into the arena. I already told you, nobody is going to listen to you. So you can take your orders and shove them up your arse!”

  “I completely agree,” I say, in a sarcastic tone. “I should be the one to lead the team, not Bruce!”

  “If you’re so keen on leading the team,” the thug says, “then why don’t you go on ahead and attack those creatures over there. I promise we’ll be right behind you.”

  “Or better yet,” I say, “how about you shut the hell up and pay more attention to the battlefield. The creatures are already moving to surround us.”

  The cobras are now trying to get on our right side, while the marauders are coming from our left. Three tramplers are now also making their way into the fighting area, and they are pawing the ground with their hooves, getting ready to charge. The manticores are still circling the skies, biding their time.

  “Everyone, hide behind the monster carcasses!” Bruce says. “That way, the tramplers won’t be able to charge at us.”

  “Well, what do you know!” Wilhelm says. “The brute can actually say some sensible things every once in a while!”

  We all hide behind some marauder corpses, and we keep watching the battlefield, to see what the creatures are doing. The tramplers are moving around, trying to find a way to charge towards us without any obstacles in their path. The cobras and the marauders have gotten much further away from each other now, and they are likely trying to flank us. The manticores are still flying around, waiting for the best opportunity to strike.

  “If we just keep standing here, we’re going to get surrounded!” the ex-noble thug’s friend says. “We need to go and attack one of the groups now, while they’re divided!”

  “That will only encourage the tramplers to charge at us!” the mage says. “We should stay here, where we at least have some cover!”

  “There are enough monster carcasses between us and the marauders to be able to make it there safely,” I say. “We can make quick sprints and take cover behind each one of the corpses until we reach our targets. Then we’ll just have to make sure that there’s always a marauder between us and the tramplers, and we’ll be fine.”