Chapter 29

The enemy, having wished him luck swished its hooks through a complicated pattern. Tom was not comforted by how those weapons had shifted independently. It was probably his battle instinct honed by years of life and death, but something screamed at Tom to approach this one differently.

He was fighting sapients, people; they were not beasts. He might not even be able to kill it, and the bloody thing was wearing metal from the top of the head to the soles of its feet. Spark would be useless while that armour persisted.

It had to be the water element and hopefully his competitors had not been given the opportunity to watch his previous battles. An attack on the eyes was easy to block when you knew about it.

The creature stalked toward him, and Tom allowed himself to back away. His opponent had four functional arms while he had the sword with a little extra reach.

Tom made a feint and not one, but two hooks spun up to meet the weapon. He would keep the sword because of the extra mobility it granted, at least until he had a better understanding of what he faced.

Tom abruptly yanked the sword back when he saw what the opponent had attempted. It had tried to catch his blade in a pincer movement. Get a hook on either side of the blade and then crack! The sword would have shattered.

The skeletal creature lunged at him with all four arms spinning in a dizzying display of motion. Tom retreated, and his sword deflected some of the attacks, and the shield… It cracked under the repeated blows.

With a curse, Tom threw the scraps away and retreated faster.

He had a free hand, and the hammer appeared in it. He was not a novice in dual wielding, but he was hardly an expert either.

It approached with steady steps. Confident but battle hardened enough not to make silly mistakes.

Different stratagems played in his head.

There was only a single play that gave him a chance.

When it was a pace away, Tom threw the sword. The tiny wisp was hidden behind the hilt. A single hook whipped up to knock the flying weapon away and then the wisp unleashed all of its remaining energy in two high pressure streams of water. The enemy’s head snake eyes seemed to widen at the threat but it reacted almost instantly and turned its head away to protect itself. The attack slammed into the metal of the helmet instead of the eye slits; it missed. But it was only a distraction before Tom lunged forward, swinging his hammer.

Crack.

Tom retreated from the three hooks that swung at him.

The skeletal creature howled as an arm hung limply.

Three against one.

Tom aggressively circled, aiming to get an opening on the injured side. The enemy was not stupid and there was no way Tom’s ploy would be successful. It swung two hooks. One he blocked with his left hand, taking the wound in order to seize hold of it. The other he tried to sidestep but there was a stinging pain down his leg which told him how poorly his dodge had gone.

The monster attempted to jerk the captured hook back, but Tom’s hand kept its grip for that fraction of a moment while his hammer slammed down on the opponent’s glove that clutched the trapped hook.

There was a clang, and sufficient force went through his hammer to numb his hand.

With both of them gasping in pain, they disengaged.

A second hook went flying as red blood splattered the stone. His Touch Heal closed the wounds.

Tom swayed slightly. The act of healing the leg had taken more out of him than expected. That cut had been deep. Lethal, Tom suspected, for someone without his healing.

Nevertheless, it had been a successful engagement. His enemy was down to two hooks.

Tom leapt forward. One hook got stuck in his leg with another in his shoulder as the opponent tried to disable him, but the different anatomy must have helped Tom because neither hook caught anything critical and nor did they restrict him overly much.

Crack.

He might not be able to get full leverage with his swings, but he could do enough.

Crack.

The monster screamed and retreated, leaving two weapons in Tom’s flesh… again. Tom pulled both out and checked his mana.

Not good.

Tom stalked forward. It had three broken arms, the hook it was using, and one other on the belt.

It swung at him and Tom blocked, but not nearly hard enough to knock the weapon from the enemy’s hand.

With the advantage, Tom became more strategic. He was happy to fight hammer versus a single hook. When he was worried about the other creature healing, a two mana thunderclaps got him an opportunity to break bone before its last hook drove him back. And again.

It was a stalemate, one Tom was content to maintain.

Time ticked over and his mana recharged.

“Why are you playing with me?”

“I have two more fights after this and I need my mana.”

“Do you have to keep breaking my bones?”

“Are they not healing?”

“Yes, they are.”

Boom!

Tom ducked underneath the guard.

Crack.

The hook dropped and vanished into his inventory to join two others and a sword. It now only had a single weapon left. With an arm that had been shattered earlier, the skeletal retrieved the final hook. “You are clever. I’m honoured to lose to you.”

They kept fighting back and forth. Now that Tom had mostly disarmed the enemy he did not need to break the bones regularly. It was like they had an unspoken accord.

The clicks in the stands got louder.

His mana crystal was replenished.

Crack.

The skeletal went down with a shattered knee.

Tom retreated his spell to summon a fire wisp already in progress. He didn’t have time for anything sneaky. He took the first wisp to offer itself.

The clicking volume elevated itself to distracting. Tom understood. He was almost finding the fight boring.

“Two minute warning.” the demon voice thundered suddenly. “If it’s not finished by then, I will destroy you both.”

Tom sprinted forward.

“Wait.” the creature ordered. Tom stopped. He still had the better part of two minutes, and he was confident he could kill this monster in less than one.

“My name is Yelsin Traga.”

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“What?” Then Tom shook his head. “Mine is Tom Brayshaw.”

“It is a pleasure to have met you, Tom Brayshaw.”

Yelsin’s shattered leg reformed, and then it sprang forward. The hook darted for Tom’s leg.

He countered, and the hook clanged away a victim of simple physics as his heavy weapon struck the other.

The speed of the assault was shocking, and he wondered why this was occurring now. Where had this extra boost come from? And why hadn’t his opponent triggered it before now? Had he been tricked?

Suddenly, the three closest hands to him were all holding translucent hooks in them, and Tom’s weapon was badly out of position. Two grabbed his hammer, while the third rapped his hand. The hammer went flying.

Tom leapt backwards in a panic, summoning a hook from his inventory to help.

The strange monster in front of him made no move to reengage.

It could kill him.

Tom knew that absolutely. The hook in his hand felt strange and unwieldy. While his hammer had let him match the creature, this weapon didn’t require brute strength. It functioned on precision, and Tom did not know how to produce that requirement.

“I’m twice your rank.”

“Yes.”

“Can I have my hooks back?”

Tom’s mind worked frantically.

“If I kill you, then they will come out of your storage. I don’t want to kill you.” Yelsin said reasonably.

The worst thing about the situation was that it was right. Why had he thought that it would be okay to play with something that much stronger than him?

It was ridiculous.

And now he had no choice. If he didn’t it would kill him to get his weapons back. If he gave Yelsin the hooks, then maybe it would knock him out instead of butchering him.

Tom crouched and lowered to the ground. He materialised each hook one by one and placed them carefully on the stone.

“They’re weapons, not delicate alchemical glassware.”

“Twenty seconds,” the demon’s voice interrupted.

“We’re out of time.” Yelsin looked apologetic. Tom retreated from the weapons and Yelsin blurred forward to collect them. “It’s been a pleasure Tom Brayshaw. I wish you luck and good hunting.”

“Five seconds.”

What was it going to do?

“I yield.” Yelsin shouted.

What?

The creature, the person, Yelsin Traga vanished.

The shock of the last two minutes ran through Tom as his mind struggled to understand what had happened.

If Yelsin yielded, then it could have done so at any moment.

Could it have beaten him as well? Tom’s mind catalogued the fight and compared those final moments when it had disarmed him to the earlier clashes. Maybe he had won them on his own merits? It was possible till he stopped breaking bones on Yelsin’s request that he had been winning fairly.

But why had Yelsin not yielded before that? The crushed bones had been hurting him, but the person had pushed through.

His mind went over their conversations, as hurried and superficial as they had been.

“Shit,” Tom whispered to himself. The alien species had been buying him time to recharge his mana. He couldn’t ask him, but it was the only explanation that made sense.

Tom bowed his head. “Thank you Yelsin. If we meet again, I will repay this favour.”

There was still clicking in the stands.

Then the demon was next to him. “Son, where was the blood-thirsty brutality that we loved so much in the first few rounds?”

Tom didn’t answer the announcer and instead glared at him.

“Our challenger is so shamed about his performance that he can’t speak. Let’s give him a chance to redeem himself.”

Another portal crackled into existence, and Tom did not bother running at it. There was no point; the place’s magic would stop him.

The creature that appeared was a six-legged, hairy bear that moved like a crab. The equivalent of a crab’s pinchers were a scythe-like ending that was longer than the sword in his inventory.

Tom felt exhausted, and there was no way he could fight this straight out. Too strong, too fast. This was a battle he should never have been caught in.

With a thought, the fire wisp sped forward.

Tom was not expecting much, but the enemy reacted. White disks of energy the size of a football appeared and tried to force the wisp back. There were five of them, and they were successfully able to stop the tiny flame from approaching.

Tom stalked toward it, the hammer in his hands — not because he thought he could hurt this creature that must have weighed ten times him physically, but to distract it.

Either his fate had failed him, or the beast would be comically weak to fire or lightning. If it had a defence against both, he was dead.

He got within range. Ninety percent of its focus was on the wisp, which told Tom what it was vulnerable to. Only a single-bladed leg pointed his way.

Tom stabbed a finger at its face.

Zap.

A bolt of lightning as thick as an arm arced toward it.

It flinched with most of its magical shielding moving instinctively to block Tom’s attack.

That was all the wisp needed as a moment of distraction. The wisp went around the remaining shields.

Whoosh!

It exploded in flames so hot that they forced Tom backwards. In less time than he thought possible, there was the crackling of a portal energy, and the inferno vanished as the body of the burning creature was taken away.

The stone underneath it had cracked from the intense heat.

Fate.

Silence filled the stadium.

Then a yip, a howl, a trumpet, then multiple yips.

“Once more, our challenger finds a path to victory exploiting the fire vulnerability of the Moldaca. Separated from the perpetual rains of Vibrant Valley and in this dry heat, we love that it had no defence. Will our champion survive the next fight?”

A portal appeared. Immediately, from its size he knew whatever enemy he was facing it was going to be larger than him and at rank 13. It was almost twice as strong as him in every aspect. Twice as fast, twice as strong, at least twice as hard to hurt.

Even with all the advantages Tom possessed, he was not sure he could win. Except for Fate, if any of the power he had released when coming here remained.

He detested the crowd, and the hidden rules that had left him in this position where he needed to fight these ridiculous battles and, of course, his own initial greed. He should have quit while he had the chance.

Having said that, he could win this just like he had triumphed in the previous eleven battles. There would be a way.

The fire wisp was still alive and there to support him. He had some mana reserves left.

The creature finished warping in.

It was a type of centaur. Though not the type from humanity’s stories. It had what Tom would have called an Orc body as opposed to a human one. And the legs seemed more reptilian in the muscular structure, even if its bum and fur resembled a horse.

Tom’s weapon switched to his tier two sword. The hammer would be useless against this monster. He needed a fatal blow in the first engagement, and a blunt instrument would not give that against a competent opponent.

It looked at him and cackled. “Coliseum attendant, is this a joke?”

The centaur haughtily searched around in a demanding fashion. “I did not pay experience for this trial to face a pathetic rank 6 with next to no magic. I demand to know, what is the meaning of this?”

There was no answer, and the crowd was doing its high-pitched yips of excitement that started when something good was about to happen. His enemy noticed, and it studied Tom openly.

“I don’t understand. The audience is excited. Why? Answer me, whatever you are.”

“I have my means.”

“Your wisp?” the creature waved his hand and Tom felt his connection to the wisp shatter. “I think not. You have no Skills excluding Spark and the most basic of heals.” The centaur snapped its fingers as a foot-long spark erupted. Tom was impressed; that showed a significant understanding of the ability. “I have some resistance to lightning, so your one offensive spell is not an issue. What is your trick?”

“Maybe I don’t have one.”

“But why am I facing you?”

“Maybe I got unlucky.”

“No. Do you have a hidden tier five weapon?”

Tom shook his head, not caring if the centaur couldn’t understand the gesture.

“You would not have the ability to use it if you did. Even an heirloom weapon scaled down to rank six would not have Skills or Spells sufficient to trouble me. What then? Are you just a meat bag for me to run down and destroy? A cheap thrill for the crowd?”

The creature was suddenly holding a lance. Its rank, knowledge, demonstrated skills and now spatial storage worried Tom. What was worse, it was right. The only thing Tom had going for him was Fate.

The centaur charged.

Momentarily, Tom’s brain short-circuited while he tried to work out what he could do. Dodge and run? No, with its level of equipment it would have a bow and was faster than him, anyway.

Counter-attack?

How?

BOOM!

All of Tom’s mana went into a massive lightning attack. The beast might have some resistance to Spark, but Tom was sure it had never faced a Spark levelled above a hundred and twenty-eight before.

The electricity dug into joints and muscles. They locked up. The thing fell tumbling towards him. Tom knew he could roll out of the way, but what then? Would he be able to kill it in time?

No.

Rather than roll away, Tom gambled and committed to being crunched. He fell backwards with his sword angled upwards as the torso of the creature landed upon the tip of his borrowed sword aligned perfectly with its sternum.

It hit, and his world became a blur of pain, noise, and pressure. He was struck from multiple directions, the creature’s armour, the stone, its lance. The floor whacked him as he rolled and tumbled. The weight of the centaur above him turned an arm into a matchstick. He felt as though, even while dying, his enemy was striking him throughout their tumble across the ground.

The world stilled as he came to a halt.

Immense weight above him.

Everything hurt.

The weight vanished.

What? Had it stood to finish him or had the demon removed him?

It was a struggle, but Tom opened the one eye that responded to his command, and it was barely enough to resolve the light above him. There was a silhouette to his right, and then to his left. Within reach was an escape portal.

“Don’t run,” the calm voice of the demon said. “Fight one more battle. I’ll heal you first, and I can boost your rewards.”

Tom’s left arm was broken in multiple places, but it was better than his right. He thrust it up towards safety, and the pain of it was agonising.

He screamed.

But the knot of agony reached the exit portal. He could feel it. Wavy text appeared in his eyes.

Do you wish to exit to the TR shop?

“Yes,” he wheezed with barely functioning lungs.

The world distorted, and Tom knew he had moved. The ground was still too hard, but the light had changed, and the air. It was no longer as hot as it had been a moment before.

He dropped the arm he had raised and whimpered at the backlash.

Healing Tranquillity kicked in, and he had one mana.

The list of status elements and what was wrong with his body could have filled a novel.

One mana disappeared as he healed the two severed arteries.

He was still bleeding out, but slower now. All he had to do was to heal faster than the blood loss and missing organs killing him.