But how will I fight him? Do I try to disarm him first, or should I just focus on hitting him where he’s undefended? Would it be a better idea to wait for him to make mistakes or to attack him head on and take him by surprise?
As I finish making my attack plan, the man reaches my position, and he stops about a dozen feet away from me, measuring me up with an arrogant smile on his face, while I take one of my newly acquired scimitars out of its sheath. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s pretty obvious what he’s thinking. He clearly cannot picture himself losing this fight.
We both wait for the announcer to give us the signal, and once our battle officially begins, the gladiator charges at me directly, with his axe raised in the air, ready to strike.
I wait for him to reach me, and I begin dodging his attacks, trying to find the right opportunity to strike back at him. Evading the warrior’s attacks is definitely not easy, due to the large size of his battle-axe, and there are more than a few times when I almost feel like I’m not going to make it. Fortunately, the long reach of my scimitar gives me a little bit more space to maneuver, and it also allows me to parry some of the strikes that might have hit me otherwise.
As soon as I catch my opponent on the wrong footing, I use my scimitar to stab him in an undefended area to the right side of his chest. Given the curved nature of my weapon, the cut does not go very deep, but it is enough for the gladiator to panic and to jump back, in order to get away from my blade. I quickly follow him, and I slash at him again, which makes him trip and fall on his back, while dropping the battle-axe from his hands. I then kick the weapon away from him, and I put my scimitar to his throat, to make sure that he won’t try to get up anymore.
“Wait!” the gladiator screams, all of a sudden. “I surrender!”
“This is a fight to the death, warrior,” the announcer says, coldly. “Surrendering is not allowed.”
“Please…” the gladiator says, in a pleading voice, looking directly at me. “Have mercy… I don’t want to die! Please!”
“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” the spectators start chanting, in unison.
I ignore the crowds completely, and I use my blade to stab the gladiator in his right leg. This should be enough to make sure that he won’t be fighting me in the final round.
I then turn my back on him and start walking away.
“What do you think you are doing?” the announcer says.
“I’m going back to my division room,” I say. “The fight is over. I won.”
“No, the fight is not over until I say it is over,” the announcer says, angrily. “Now, get back there and finish the job!”
“Nah,” I say.
“What is your problem?” the announcer says. “This man isn’t your friend! I bet you’ve never even seen him before this arena event. Why are you not killing him?”
“I refuse to kill a guy I’ve just met for the sole purpose of your entertainment,” I say. “My only goal was to incapacitate him in order to not have to fight him in the final round. If you want to kill him, do it yourselves.”
“I’m not going to announce your win until you kill this man,” the announcer says.
“Then make him the winner,” I say. “I don’t care. I’m done, here.”
As I take my leave, the crowds begin booing me. Their shouts and insults are only getting louder as I approach my division room.
“Shut up!” I shout at them, as I finally snap.
The noise from the crowd slowly dies down, as the spectators are all looking at me, curiously, to see what I have to say.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I continue. “Is this what you consider entertainment? Watching people murder each other and get mauled by wild beasts? How sick in the head do you have to be to get enjoyment out of something like this? You’re all pathetic! Does it make you feel good to know that some people have even worse lives than you? Is this why you’re watching this crap? Well, I’ve got news for you! As soon as you walk out of here, it’s going to be the same crappy lives waiting for you, outside! And you all deserve it! The way you are all treating these gladiators is the same way that the nobles are treating you. You have no right to complain about anything that is going on in your lives. How about you all take a small break and do a bit of self-reflection before you start booing me again like a bunch of mindless sheep? I’m going back to my cell. I’m done with you idiots.”
Unsurprisingly, as soon as I finish my speech, the booing from the crowd gets louder than ever before, and the swearing is now a lot more diverse, as well. I ignore the sheep, and I return to my division area without as much as a single glance towards any of them.
“Wow,” Leila writes, when the iron gate closes behind me. “That was… quite the speech.”
“Yeah,” I say, simply, and then we both watch the next fights in silence.
The rest of the battles went by without any particular incidents, and without any of the gladiators standing out in any way. However, there seemed to be something of a pattern forming with the scheduling of the duels. First of all, neither I, nor Daren, nor Hadrik were being called anymore for any of the fights. Kate was scheduled to fight a few times, but she refused every time, taking full advantage of her undesirable status. Secondly, there have been no more fights to the death whatsoever, after my last battle. Most of the battles ended with light scratches, or with gladiators surrendering before the fight even began, due to obvious differences in power levels.
By the time the third round ended, it was getting pretty obvious that these changes had been specifically requested by the ambassador, with the purpose of keeping as many of the gladiators alive as possible, in order to get us to fight them all in the penalty round.
The winner of the third round was some guy from the seventh division that didn’t really do anything special, but had the luck of running into a lot of cowards who surrendered before their fights even began. Once the winner received his prize, the announcer called for all the gladiators to assemble in the fighting area one last time, so the penalty round could finally begin.
“Will the undesirables please form a line and face the rest of the gladiators?” the announcer says.
Daren, Hadrik, Kate and I all head towards the center of the arena, and we stand side by side, preparing our weapons.
“Now, who is ready to participate in the final—” the announcer starts to say, but he stops, when he sees Leila and Bruce both move at the same time, in order to join our side.
“What are you doing?” the announcer says. “You are on the wrong side! Neither of you are undesirables!”
“Yet!” Bruce says.
“You are saying,” the announcer says, “that you are voluntarily turning yourselves into undesirables after the event has already ended, just to stand by these gladiators’ side?”
“The true members of the fourth division shall stand united until the very last blow of the horn,” Bruce says.
Wilhelm frowns at Bruce, who was looking straight at him when he said those last words. After a few seconds of silence, the assassin moves from his spot and then joins our side as well.
“Very well,” the announcer says. “While we’re at it, is there anyone else who would like to join the undesirables’ side?”
“I will!” says the gladiator that I defeated in the third round, as he slowly limps over to our side as well. “I do not intend to leave this arena before settling my debt from the third round.”
“Well, okay, then…” the announcer says, starting to get a bit annoyed. “Anyone else?”
The gladiators fall silent, and it seems that nobody else is planning to join us anymore.
“Great…” the announcer says, while mumbling under his breath. “Now that we have some new undesirables, you’ll have to excuse me for a minute, while I add their names to a few important documents. You can use this extra time to decide whether you want to participate in the final round or not. I’ll be with you again, shortly.”
He then begins to
descend from his platform, and into a small office in the upper levels of the arena, where he has all of his papers. While the announcer is still busy with his paperwork, Hadrik looks like he’s suddenly remembered something important, and he addresses Daren and me in a low voice, making sure that the other gladiators can’t hear him.
“Uh, guys…” Hadrik says. “I just realized something. I can’t attack any of those gladiators. That blasted tournament’s spell won’t let me. It says they are citizens of Varathia!”
“You only realized that now?…” Daren says. “Isn’t this something that you should have considered before specifically asking the king to write you that letter of admission?”
“Well, I figured that they’d make an exception for the gladiators!” Hadrik says. “Otherwise, why would they have let me join the arena in the first place?”
“The king and the arena owner probably assumed that you could bypass the spell, like the rest of us…” Daren says. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Just say you’ll forfeit, and wait for us outside. They can’t force you to participate until the end, if you’re not a prisoner.”
“But then I’d end up looking like a coward!” Hadrik says. “I’m better off just dodging their attacks until you guys manage to finish them off!”
“Whatever…” Daren says.
“Finally!” the announcer says, after exiting his office and climbing back up on his platform. “Now that the paperwork’s done, and sent to the organizers, I’d say it’s about time that we get this round started, don’t you think? Volunteers, please step forward, so that you may join this optional round.”
One of the gladiators begins to move forward, but another one pulls him back, from behind.
“Do you have a death wish?” the gladiator from behind says. “Don’t you see who you’re up against? That dwarf pulverized half of the manticores and the scorpions all by himself! And that healer in armor pretty much fought all the monsters by himself too, and he doesn’t even have a scratch. You’d have to be insane to want to fight them!”
Hearing the gladiator’s speech, the few other warriors who were planning to join the final round are now all starting to have second thoughts.
“Really?” the announcer asks, shocked, as he sees that none of the gladiators are volunteering to fight. “No one? Do you people realize what you can gain if you kill either one of those warriors in front of you? You can be freed just like that, or get showered with riches!”
“Better to be poor than dead,” one of the gladiators says, while many of the others nod in agreement.
“What do you all think you are doing?” the ambassador shouts furiously, as he comes running into the fighting area once more. “Why aren’t you fighting them? There are dozens of you! Dozens!”
“Numbers don’t mean anything when you’re up against enemies of that caliber,” one of the gladiators says.
“What caliber?” the ambassador shouts, furiously. “They are just a bunch of peasants! Do you think that fighting them is not worth the risk? Then I’ll make it worth it! I can give you money beyond your wildest dreams. You will never have to work another day in your life! If you join this fight, I will free you all and give you a high enough status that you will never risk having to fight in a place like this ever again! Just tell me what you want, and I will provide it for you! All you have to do is fight! Fight, damn you!”
The gladiators are all looking at each other, with an uneasy look in their eyes, but it doesn’t seem like any of them are seriously considering accepting the ambassador’s offer.
“What is wrong with you?” the ambassador shouts, with his face red from anger. “Do you have no ambitions? No goals? What is it going to take to make you fight them? What is it going to take? Tell me, you miserable excuses for human beings! What do you want? Tell me! Tell—”
The ambassador’s last words get drowned out by a few very loud horns that seem to all be blowing in unison from different sides of the city. The crowds are starting to panic. It seems that they all know something we don’t. Whatever it is that those horns were supposed to signify, I’m definitely not liking the sound of this.
“Oh, no…” the announcer says, trying to keep calm. “Will the spectators please evacuate the arena in a calm and orderly fashion? The show is cancelled. I repeat. The show is cancelled!”
The spectators are now rushing in droves towards the exits of the coliseum, and while they are not looking very calm and orderly to me, they are at least not knocking each other down, so they still have some sense of self-control left in them, despite their panic.
Now that he’s done with the spectators, the announcer turns towards us.
“Gladiators,” he says. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you to temporarily join the forces of our army until our current crisis gets averted. According to the laws of Thilias, during a city-wide state of emergency, gladiators are to be used as resources of the kingdom, until the state of emergency is officially declared to be over.”
“Like hell, we will!” I say. “That wasn’t the deal!”
“Listen, there’s no time to argue!” the announcer says, with a little bit of panic in his voice. “Even if you don’t want to join the army, you still don’t have any time left to—”
The announcer interrupts himself, because a very powerful wind comes blowing towards us all, feeling as if it could lift us in the air any second, if we weren’t on our guards.
This wind… I’ve only witnessed something like this once before. Oh gods, please, don’t let this be—
“Half-lessathi,” I hear a familiar voice calling me from above. “I’ve been looking for you.”
As I hesitantly turn my head upwards, I see Tyrath, the king of all dragons, flapping his wings high above in the sky, while looking directly at me with a menacing stare.
“Gods have mercy…” Bruce says.
The announcer screams, and he falls on his back, as soon as he sees the dragon. The spectators look terrified. They are now screaming and pushing each other like madmen. At this rate, it won’t take long until some of them get pushed to the ground and get trampled by the stampeding crowd.
The ambassador lets out a girly scream, and he runs away, as fast as his legs can carry him, outside of the fighting area.
“Did you think that you could hide from me forever, half-lessathi?” Tyrath says. “You should have realized that I would be able track down your smell as soon as you’d get out from your underground hole. All you managed to do was prolong the inevitable.”
“Hey, Tyrath!” we hear Arraka’s voice coming from our left. “Long time no see! Remember me? It’s your old friend, Arraka!”
Flower is now jumping down from the spectator seats, using fire jets coming from her feet to slow down her fall. She then comes running to join the rest of us in the center of the arena.
“Arraka…” Tyrath says, taking his eyes off me to look towards her amulet.
“Is it just me or did you get a new look?” Arraka asks the dragon. “What happened to your scales made of molten lava? Where is that intimidating fiery aura that you used to have? Wait, is it because you got older? Aha- Ahahahaha! So much for being all-powerful, huh? I bet you must really hate yourself for having become such a weakling!”
“How did you break the seal?” Tyrath asks her.
“You mean the seal from the cave?” Arraka asks. “Seriously? You never even found out I escaped? How did you even manage to miss the still winter? Were you hibernating or something? Boy, do I have some stories to tell you!”
“The seal,” Tyrath says again. “How did you break it?”
“Oh, that old thing had already started to crack after the first thousand years or so,” Arraka says. “As soon as there were enough cracks in it, all I had to do was wait for someone to enter the cave, and BAM! I took over his body. Or at least I tried to. We ended up having to share it, eventually. But seriously, though, what did you think would happen? You had to ally yourself with all of those lessathi
and mages just to stand a chance against me, and you thought that your half-assed seal would hold me there forever? Don’t make me laugh! The only reason why you even managed to beat me was because I’d only just gotten myself banned from the magical plane, and I didn’t really know the ins and outs of this world at the time. If we had a rematch now, I’d obliterate you.”
“You would obliterate me from inside your amulet?” Tyrath says.
“Hey, you break this amulet for me, and we can have that rematch right now, if you want,” Arraka says.
“You can stay there and rot,” Tyrath says. “I didn’t come here for you. I came here to get revenge, and to prove to an insignificant insect just how hopeless it is to oppose me.”
“Wait, are you talking about me?” I say.
“Yes, I’m talking about you, you miserable wretch!” Tyrath shouts. “Now stop talking, and activate your magic stats again so I can prove to you how weak you truly are!”
“Uh, you see…” I tell the dragon. “The thing is that I can’t really activate those stats anymore.”
“So, you refuse to fight me at your full power, then?” Tyrath says.
“No, you don’t understand,” I say. “I’m saying that I really can’t use those stats right now. Couldn’t you come back later, after I’ve learned how to activate them?”
“If you’re not planning to activate the stats,” the dragon says, “then I’m going to start by slowly murdering all of your friends, one by one, until you finally come to your senses. And once I’m done with you, I will destroy this entire city, and then I will burn all the other human settlements from this continent to the ground. I will do today what I should have done ten thousand years ago. Your race was never meant to get out of the caves.”
Magium Page 20
