More of the volleys rose and fell, and I counted in my head, hoping that the thirty seconds would be enough to outlast Akira’s ability. Now, Tejón, finish the leopard. The ranger is locked into this ability, and if he stops it somehow, I will attack him.
The bear ran at the injured leopard, who was brave enough to face him. The two beasts met with a flurry of paws, Tejón’s strength only nullified slightly by the cat’s speed and dexterity. It dodged many of Tejón’s initial strikes and, despite its injured state, managed to rake the bear across his face and shoulder.
I watched a few seconds, staring at the gladiators as they fought, and noticed Akira doing the same. It was obvious that he wanted to help, but it looked as if his body was manipulating the bow without his will. The skill was holding him in place, as I’d thought.
Feeling useless, I took an experimental step forward. I laughed with a wild joy as I saw the sphere of fire move forward with me.
Akira noticed, too, and his eyes went wide. I looked and saw three more blue arrows resting on the string, and at my count, my Palisade of Flame still had at least twelve more seconds.
I sprinted forward. Another arrow left the bow and sizzled off of the dome above me, and in the corner of my eye, I saw Tejón take another slash of fiery claws. He grunted and struck out with a rage-fueled sweep of his paw. This one landed.
The leopard’s neck snapped to the side, sounding like a sapling cracking in two.
“No, Xiao, no!” Akira cried.
The final arrow flew indifferently into the air.
The blue aura that had surrounded him faded, and he drifted to the ground before me. I closed in on his position and swung at his chest, activating Sunder at the same time.
The man only winced, unable or unwilling to dodge or block. He wasn’t even watching as my axe tore through his studded leather armor. His eyes were locked on the still form of Xiao Pang, the faithful leopard who had fought beside him.
The glowing orb surrounding me flickered out. I watched the stream of blood and the flecks of tissue and bone that sprayed out from Akira’s wound. I felt my bile rise. It was the roar of the crowd that pushed me over the edge. As Tejón and I were applauded for our ruthlessness, I vomited near the still-bleeding form of Akira the Ranger.
The announcer cried, “Winner!” Then I found myself plodding away from the fighting pit, walking beside Tejón and finding at least some degree of sanctuary in the dim tunnels surrounding the arena.
An apothecary met us as we exited and healed our wounds.
Tejón said what I’d been thinking. I do not feel clean after such a victory. It was too much like fighting against Hana and Pachi.
I thought of the look of devastation on Akira’s face when he watched his pet die, and the limp body of the leopard laying before Tejón. Had any of this been worthwhile? The Rat King and his many minions were one reason, though.
Yeah, we can head out and sit with Teegan soon enough, I said. We just need to remember why we are doing this.
After an hour or so, my wits returned to me, and I explained that it would do to watch as many of the fights as possible, if only to study the other competitors.
After another hour of arena fights, the light in the sky began to fade, and several torchbearers came out and lit braziers around the pit.
Tejón fidgeted nervously, looking like an enormous child watching their parent leave to go to work, yet his words were filled with wisdom, as they so often were. Be wary and control your rage. You can win if you simply conserve your strength.
Trying not to think too much about the upcoming event, I replied, Thank you, my friend. I’ll be back soon.
As I strode down the tunnel, surrounded by the players who I would be facing, I understood what made the arena so intense: knowing about the match to come, the space and time given to critical thought. In a real battle, there was seldom such an opportunity.
We all walked out onto the sands of the pit as the announcers called our names one at a time. The orange light of the fire was now as bright as a fading sunset. I had never been one for drama or ceremony, but the fire was having a notable effect on all those present.
The announcer jested, his eyes blazing with the firelight, “It has been a glorious day here at the Bridgerun Arena! But if you see one of the competitors that had their haunches handed to them today, do us all a favor, and buy the poor bastard a drink!”
As he walked around the arena floor, stoking the flames of the crowd one final time, I could tell the man was a few drinks away from passing out. Though he only swayed once or twice, I could tell he was the kind of man who drank like this every day, a real burracho. I doubted he’d stay to watch the fight.
“But we have one more event, the one you’ve all paid your 2 silver to come here and watch,” he went on. “It’s time to see fifteen lack-wits hack each other to pieces, folks. I give you the one and only… Battle Royale!”
The referee didn’t emerge this time, only peeked his head out and bellowed the one word we were all waiting for. “Fight!”
I looked around, hoping to make some sense of the chaos that immediately ensued. To my right, I watched an orc with a long halberd face off with two elves gripping a pair of short swords in their hands. The way
