“Velgos…” the announcer says, this time in a pleading voice. “Don’t do this to me! Come on, I even bet good money on you! You can’t just die on me like this! What about the rest of the second round? Who’s going to fight the other divisions? Velgos, get up, damn you!”
Once the announcer finishes his rant, we hear Venard, the arena owner, clearing his throat from somewhere behind the announcer.
“Uh, please excuse me,” the announcer says, to the spectators. “I’ll be back shortly…”
He then heads in the direction of the arena owner, descending from his elevated platform and entering one of the upper levels of the main building surrounding the fighting area.
As the announcer was talking, I was barely paying any attention to him, because I was focusing on something else, entirely. After studying the scimitars that had fallen from the troll’s hands for a while, I came to the conclusion that they were both in surprisingly good condition. I’m also quite certain that they both have at least the sharpness and durability enchantments cast on them, so they should be pretty comparable to my dagger, in terms of usefulness.
I’ve never really liked wielding two weapons at the same time when fighting, but maybe I could take one of these with me, so I can use it when I’m in need of a weapon with longer reach? Or maybe I should take the other one too, and sell it at a shop? I’m not exactly sure how much it would be worth, but if I could get Daren to identify all of the enchantments cast on it, I’m certain that I could negotiate a reasonable price at the local weapon shops.
After spending a few more seconds considering my options, I decide to take both of the scimitars, because it would be a waste to just leave them there. I put both of the weapons in their sheaths, and then I hook the two sheaths to my belt.
Not long after we kill Velgos, Bruce also finishes his fight with the ogres, and then he comes heading straight for us.
“You guys are already done with the troll?” Bruce asks, surprised, as he reaches us.
“Yeah, we killed him ages ago,” I say. “What took you so long?”
“Wait, how did the mage die?” Bruce asks, after noticing the mage’s corpse on the ground.
“He got caught using magic,” I say. “There were even loud alarms and everything. How did you manage to miss them?”
“Oh…” Bruce says. “I did hear some loud noises, but I was too focused on the fight to figure out what was what.”
He pauses.
“So,” Bruce continues. “Does this mean that the fight is over, then? What are we still standing around here, for?”
“We’re waiting for the announcer to come back…” I say. “He’s the one that’s supposed to announce the end of the fight.”
After a bit more time, the announcer finally returns to his platform, looking mildly upset.
“Sorry for the delay, ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer says. “After a discussion with the arena’s owner, mister Venard, we’ve reached the conclusion that the second round cannot continue after the death of Velgos, the mercenary. In other words, the end of this fight also marks the end of the round. The third and final round will commence shortly, as soon as the organizing team is done with the preparations. We apologize for the inconvenience.”
He then turns towards us.
“All gladiators will have to wait in their division areas until the beginning of the next round,” he says. “You will not be allowed to roam the halls any longer! Your rooms will be locked until the end of the third round. This time there will be no more… incidents.”
I’m pretty sure that he was looking directly at me when he said those last words. He must still be upset because I entered the fighting area before the beginning of the round last time. Oh well, at least I don’t need any more information from my notebook. Being unable to exit my division area shouldn’t affect me that much.
As soon as we get back to our room, we hear a person shouting loudly from the hallway outside our door. It is the voice of the ambassador of Ollendor.
“What do you mean everything is going smoothly?” the ambassador shouts. “Are you mocking me?”
“Not at all, ambassador,” Venard, the arena owner says. “There have been no problems with any part of our arena event, as far as I’m aware.”
“No problems?” the ambassador says. “The earl of Ollendor’s killers are all still alive, and you are telling me that there are no problems?!”
“I assure you,” Venard says, “that our guests have been given no advantages over the other gladiators of the arena during these fights. Quite the opposite, in fact. Of course, if you have any doubts, you are free to talk with the organizing team in order to arrange the upcoming duels in any way you like. After all, you have always been the one to have the final say regarding the organization of these events.”
“I’ve been a fool to leave things in your care until now!” the ambassador says, furiously. “If you are too incompetent to get the job done right, then I’ll just have to do it myself.”
We then hear the ambassador storming away from the hallway, presumably towards the room where the organizing team was making the preparations for the next round.
“Farewell, ambassador!” Venard says, calmly, and then we hear him leaving as well.
“It sounds like a certain someone really has it in for you,” Leila writes, while looking at me.
“Who cares?” I say. “It’s not like they can do anything anymore even if they try.”
“I remember you saying something similar before our battle with the troll…” Leila writes.
“Yeah, but now it’s different,” I say. “The troll is dead. So are the creatures. I don’t see what other tricks they could pull out of their sleeve this late in the game.”
“Really?” Leila writes. “You don’t see any way in which the organizers could guarantee your death in the next round?”
“Nope,” I tell her. "None, whatsoever."
“Alright, then,” Leila writes, simply.
A few minutes later, the announcer receives a written list from a member of the organizing team, and after glancing over it for a few seconds, he begins to read it aloud.
“I am now going to announce the names of the gladiators that will be fighting in the first duel,” the announcer says. “This will be a fight to the death. The gladiators will need to battle until only one of them is left alive. No surrendering is allowed.”
“Get ready,” Leila writes to me.
“Ready for what?” I ask her.
“The name of the gladiators are—” the announcer says, as he gets ready to read the first line on the parchment.
“—Barry and Daren,” the announcer continues.
“Oh,” I tell Leila.
The iron gate in front of me gets raised, and so does the one from Daren’s division.
“Will the two gladiators who just had their names called please enter the fighting area?” the announcer says, in a bored voice. “Thank you.”
“Oh…” I tell Leila again, not knowing what else to say at this point.
“Good luck…” Leila writes, with a serious look on her face, as I slowly step out of my division area and into the arena.
Okay, calm down, there’s no need to panic. I’ve gotten through every obstacle in my path so far. There’s no reason why this should be any different. So there’s no need to panic, okay? No reason. Just need to calm down. No panic. No panic…
While I’m busy thinking to myself, Daren is also slowly advancing towards me, only he seems to be unusually calm about all of this. Why is that? Is it because he knows he can beat me? No, no, that can’t be the reason. Could it be that he already managed to figure a way out of this mess? What is he planning to do, exactly? Damn it, I’m sure that I could come up with a plan too, if only I could manage to calm down!
Once Daren and I both get to the center of the arena, facing each other, Daren gives me a wide grin, he drops his sword and shield on the ground, and then he throws his hands in the air.
“I surrender!” Daren shouts, as loud as he can. “I cannot fight this man. How could I?”
“This fight is to the death, healer,” the announcer says. “Even if this man is your friend—”
“I mean, look at those muscles!” Daren shouts loudly, interrupting the announcer. “No sane man would ever dare fight such a beast!”
Suddenly all of the spectators in the crowd burst into laughter.
“Those arms look like he could smash my head like a watermelon between his bare hands!” Daren continues, with a mocking grin on his face. “And look at the size of his back! May the gods have mercy on my soul!”
Laugh it up, Daren…
Still, I have to give credit where credit is due. The idea to surrender was genius. Genius, and yet so obvious. How did I not think of this?
While the crowds are still laughing, the ambassador of Ollendor is making his way into the fighting area through one of the iron gates, and he is heading towards us.
“What is the meaning of this?” the ambassador shouts, and the crowds slowly fall silent. “Why aren’t you fighting? This is a fight to the death! You can’t just surrender!”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Daren tells him, with a smirk, when he reaches us.
The ambassador’s face turns red with rage, and then he looks towards me.
“You there!” he says. “Peasant! Your opponent is disarmed. Finish him off now, or face the consequences!”
“Who are you calling a peasant? Peasant!” I say.
As I speak, I use a loud enough tone of voice to make sure that the spectators can hear me.
“I’m not the peasant, you lowborn scum!” the ambassador shouts. “You’re the peasant!”
“No, you’re the peasant!” I tell him.
“You are the peasant!” the ambassador shouts, with his face even redder than before.
The spectators cannot contain themselves any longer, and they all start laughing in unison.
“Hey, Daren,” I say. “I think I finally found someone who is even easier to tease than Flower!”
“Are you incapable of comprehending the situation that you are in?” the ambassador says, while he is still fuming. “If you don’t finish him off right now, you’re going to regret—”
“Alright, fine, I’ll finish him off,” I tell him, without letting him end his sentence.
As the spectators grow silent once more, I slowly start walking towards Daren, with my dagger still in its sheath, and I stop within arm’s reach of him. I then punch him lightly in the chest, and Daren throws himself to the ground, pretending to die in a very fake and dramatic way.
“It is done,” I tell the ambassador, in a very loud voice, in order to make sure that everyone in the crowd can hear me. “The healer is dead.”
The spectators once again burst into laughter, even louder than before.
“Are you mocking me?” the ambassador shouts.
“Of course we’re mocking you,” Daren says from the ground, as he slowly gets back up. “What did you expect? You didn’t really think that we’d change our minds and start killing each other just because you told us to, did you?”
“If you don’t kill each other, I’ll have you both executed!” the ambassador shouts.
“No, you won’t,” Daren says, loudly, so that everyone can hear him. “There is no standard arena rule that says we need to kill each other. We only broke one of this event’s rules. That means that you can’t execute us. You can only make us into undesirables, and force us to participate in the penalty round. Those are the rules.”
“I don’t care about the rules!” the ambassador shouts. “I make the rules! You will do as I say, or you are both going to die!”
There is a loud murmur coming from the spectator seats after the ambassador’s last outburst. The ambassador does not notice, and he continues his rant.
“Did you seriously think that those rules ever had any importance?” the ambassador shouts, even louder than before. “This whole arena’s only purpose was to have you killed! You were never meant to walk out of here alive! Do you hear me? This whole arena was nothing but a farce! Don’t make the mistake of thinking that you have any chance of survival just because you’ve won two measly rounds. I am the ambassador of Ollendor! If I wanted, I could have you both executed right now, in front of all these people, and nobody would bat an eye! That is how much power I have! Now hurry up and kill each other like the dogs you are, or I will have your heads placed on spikes, along with all of your friends!”
While the ambassador was talking, the murmurs from the crowd started to slowly turn into booing that only intensified the more the ambassador spoke. By the time he finished his monologue, most of the spectators had picked up the booing, and they were getting louder by the second.
“Off with the ambassador’s head!” shouts one of the spectators, loudly enough for everyone to hear him.
This one phrase seemed to have perfectly resonated with what everyone was thinking at that moment, because all the spectators in the crowd gradually picked it up and made a shorter version of it, in order to be able to chant it in unison, repeatedly.
“Off with his head! Off with his head! Off with his head!” the crowds keep chanting, as the ambassador’s arrogant look on his face slowly gets replaced with a much darker and more fearful expression, while a trickle of sweat begins to run down his forehead.
“How does it feel, ambassador?” we suddenly hear Eiden’s voice, coming from somewhere behind the ambassador, although the stillwater himself is nowhere to be seen.
“Damn it, not again!” Daren says, as soon as he hears Eiden’s voice.
“Is that… Eiden?” the ambassador says, as he looks around, trying to identify the source of the sound.
“How does it feel to have so many people threatening to end your life at the same time?” Eiden says. “Take a good look at these people, ambassador. Do you think that they would care about your high rank if you met them now on the street? Do you think that they would hesitate to kill you, even for a moment, if they were given the chance to do so?”
He pauses.
“These are the people that you’ve shunned all of your life, ambassador,” Eiden continues. “And you have done so due to your strict adherence to the belief that all of the people below your social rank were nothing but inferior creatures, unworthy of your attention. Do you still have what it takes to stick to your beliefs now, and face the direct consequences of your actions? What choice will you make, ambassador? Your time is running out.”
I can almost imagine Eiden’s smirk, with his closed eyes, as he watches the ambassador biting his nails, trying to find a solution that could help him both to calm down the crowds, and to have us killed on the spot. The solution, however, never came.
“I’ve changed my mind!” the ambassador says, finally, loudly enough so that the spectators can hear him. “We will follow the rules! These two gladiators have now become undesirables. If they survive the final round, then they will be set free, as promised. You may continue the rest of the round as you see fit.”
He then storms out of the fighting area, and as far away from the booing noises as his legs can carry him. In the meantime, Daren has picked up his sword and shield from the ground, and he is now looking towards the place where we’ve heard Eiden’s voice coming from.
“So, how’s it going, Eiden?” Daren says. “Are you enjoying the show?”
The empty place that Daren is addressing gives him no answer.
“You know, I was thinking…” Daren says, ignoring the fact that Eiden never answered his question. “While I was travelling, I’ve often heard of these new types of circuses, where they involve their audience directly in some parts of their shows. I was thinking that since you’re such a loyal spectator, maybe we could try some of that! What do you think?”
Daren pauses for a bit, as if he were actually waiting for Eiden to say something.
“Great!” Daren say
s. “Here goes!”
He then throws his sword with breathtaking speed, right at the spot where Eiden was standing invisibly a few minutes prior. The sword passes through the empty space where the stillwater had been standing, and it falls on the ground, a few dozen feet beyond that position. Looking a bit disappointed, Daren lets out a small sigh, and he goes to retrieve his sword.
Not long after the departure of the ambassador, the announcer officially ends the fight between me and Daren, and he declares me as the victor of the battle, due to Daren’s surrender. As I am preparing to return to my division room, the announcer stops me, telling me that I was scheduled to fight to the death with a gladiator from the sixth division right after my battle with Daren. The announcer also reminds me that as an undesirable, I now have the right to refuse to fight until the penalty round, if I so desire.
After taking some time to think, I decide to accept the duel. I’d much rather fight this gladiator now, while he’s alone, than be forced to face him later on in the penalty round, when we’ll be fighting everyone at once.
I notify the announcer that I’ve decided to stay, and an iron gate opens up, clearing the way for my adversary to enter the battlefield. As the man enters the fighting area, I recognize him as being one of the more proficient fighters in his group. Actually, I’d even go as far as saying that he is comparable in terms of combat prowess to the fighters from the first division. His build is also quite impressive, being as tall as Daren and as bulky as Bruce. Just like most of the other gladiators, he seems to be wearing leather armor, but instead of a sword, his weapon of choice appears to be a large double-edged battle-axe, which he is now holding in both hands.
The beginning of the fight will likely be announced as soon as he reaches me. Now, then… How do I go about this? The fight is to the death, but as an undesirable, I am no longer bound by such rules. If I want him out of the way, killing him would be easier, but technically I could also just break one of his legs or something, and it should be enough for my intents and purposes. After all, I don’t see any good reason why I should kill him. I have nothing against the guy. I just want to make sure that I won’t need to fight him in the final round. All I need is to incapacitate him in some way, nothing more.
Magium Page 19
