“What a great way to end it all,” Kyle said. He was remembering the glory of standing under the lights and hearing the crowd shouting his name.
“Except that isn’t the end. There is still the crucible. Four weeks of matches, all fought to the death and concluding in a final match on the eve of the new year. The final fighter is named the King of the Arena,” Hilde said grimly.
“Let me guess, he is granted his freedom or something like that?” Kyle asked.
Hilde burst out into laughter. “As though any owner would ever release such a valuable slave. No, if the fighter is a free man, he will be given riches and glory. If he is a slave, his owner will get the riches, and the slave will be treated just like a prized racehorse.”
Kyle felt his body tense at that. He knew this wasn’t Earth. It wasn’t that he was afraid to fight or even die, especially given that he had already apparently died to a bullet from some psycho groupie. He had proven that he was willing to fight for his freedom at the quarry. Somehow it felt different though, the idea of stepping into a ring with the intention of killing a man solely for the purpose of advancing in some tournament.
Presumably sensing the direction of his thoughts, Hilde spoke softly to him, “You won’t avoid fighting here. Verden is a harder world than your Earth. It is all too often kill or be killed, and only strength provides peace. In that way, I am in complete agreement with your former self.”
The weight of this reality settled on Kyle. He prided himself on being decisive, but he was definitely having a moment of doubt. He still wasn’t one hundred percent certain that this wasn’t a dream.
Trying to calm himself, he felt the essence within wash over him. The rightness of combat and the surety that he could excel at anything filled him. Kyle knew in that moment that there was still a part of Krig in him. He worried about changing and becoming something other than himself, but he couldn’t let that hold him back. If this was the hand he had been dealt, then he would make it a winner.
“Very well. If you think this is the best place to learn to fight, then I will stay, for now.” As Kyle spoke the words, even inside his own head, he felt a certain finality click into place.
Chapter 9 - Saber
“Then you might as well just sit up. That will probably get things going and we will find out if my guess was correct,” Hilde said.
Nothing for it but to try, Kyle sat up and opened his eyes. When he did, he noticed that his arms and legs were definitely feeling sluggish. They weren’t immobilized, like before, but simply felt like they weighed a ton each.
The two guards both leapt to attention. A pair of spear tips were instantly pointed at him, and one of the men called out.
While they were waiting for whoever was coming, Kyle took the time to study his surroundings. The two soldiers were wearing the same type of leather armor with some circular insignia on the front. Each had a gladius on his hip, with a dagger on the opposite side and a spear in his hands.
Sure enough, the room they were in was clearly underground. Kyle could see through barred windows in the ceiling that there was weak light streaming in. It was like he was in a cell set into the ground. The walls were all stone held together without any mortar or obvious gaps, very different from the flimsy walls of Lucas and Freja’s home. On the wall were a pair of glowing lights on sconces set in the stone.
It struck him as he looked around, that there were no doors in the cell. He had to assume the only way in and out was through the bars at the top of the room. Must be some kind of hinges that he couldn’t see. That would definitely make escaping harder, which only reinforced his decision to go along with things for now.
The room was a fairly decent size, about fifteen by fifteen with the bars overhead being twelve feet up, not out of his reach by any means. There was a small bed where he had been laying. Although he supposed it probably wasn’t that small, he was just on the large side. A nightstand of sorts, on the other side, had a pitcher of water, cup, plate, bowl, and spoon.
Cut into the floor in a corner opposite the bed was a tiled hole that looked like one of those squat toilets. So apparently, he was expected to stay here for a long time or at least long enough that they didn’t want to have to remove him or his waste products frequently. That wasn’t exactly encouraging.
By the time he had taken in the room though, he heard voices approaching. The fat man who had been yelling at Darron, along with the two wizards and another couple of guards could be seen overhead. The fat man looked down at him and called out.
Thankfully, Hilde started translating right away. “He is asking if you are ready to talk reasonably.”
Kyle didn’t wait for her to offer him the words but simply grunted and nodded his acquiescence.
The fat man seemed pleased. He looked at one of the mages, who simply shrugged his shoulders. A frown passed across the fat man’s face again as he said, “What am I paying you for, then?”
The mage responded, “I told you before, Lord Soren, there is something different about this one. He is holding a great deal of essence, yet I can’t detect any type of magical ability in him.”
“But you can control him?” The fat man, who Kyle now knew as Soren, asked.
“Yes, as long as he has
