The Arts and Crafts Competition. The Pitfighting Event. A giant fighting pit.
Inside the pit, ankle-deep in mud moistened by Waterworker-summoned rain, hundreds of competitors were struggling to keep their footing. The prizes for failure were skulls caved by axes, lungs pierced by arrows, and hearts crushed by ten-thousand boos from the festival-goers watching in the stands above.
In the crowd surrounding the venue, Team Friendship Forever had arrived. Brian was humming the Avengers 13 theme to match their superhero costumes. No one paid them any mind on this account, since many of the other attending teams were decked out in much more eye-molesting outfits.
At the tail of the group, Henry was clutching a body-fortifying Spelltome in case anyone used the cover of the crowd to try to assassinate him. Alfgrim the wolf, on edge as well, was glued to his side, along with Stalking Rose.
"My nostrils fill with the fragrance of blood," hee-hawed Donkey Bro. "What sweet perfume will result when my own royal blood is added to this mix? I'm ready now, headsman! Let loose the guillotine, and liberate my neck from the choking chains of existence!"
The donkey was moping because it'd already wasted all the pocket money it'd been given for snacks.
Henry ignored its complaints. Both the monsters and Dan had been warned about acting low-key with spies in their midst.
Cathy glanced back at him with a question in her chubby cheeks. "You're sticking out...because you aren't wearing a costume?"
A small number of festival-goers they'd passed had been staring and pointing at him.
He regathered his emergency Flora charges that were about to expire. “Ting. It's not that. Duok. I climbed to 100th place today Tan on Suchi's 1v1 duelling leaderboard. I'm an F-tier celebrity now. Yay."
Considering his aims to formulate the greatest martial art in the world within two weeks, this was but a tiny stepping stone, more a stepping pebble. In The Slums, though, he supposed it held some significance. The rating of 1715 he'd closed the day with placed him at 6th in this 'Kingdom' of South East-Asia and Oceania, and the highest of any Aussie or Kiwi.
Again, though, it was less him being impressive and more everybody else being trash.
"Whoa! Nice job, Big Bro!"
"100?" The donkey confuse-hawed. "With that heart of yours, you should have risen straight to first place!"
When Henry didn't ask the question that the beast was attempting to solicit, it continued as though he had. "For what hope has any weapon of penetrating that shrivelled, black heart, with its skin so thick as to repel even a companion's dying plea!"
Cathy was displeased with this news. "Don't over exert yourself. We're here to have fun, remember."
"By fighting in a pit."
"Yes, Henry, by fighting in a pit. That's what we voted for."
The rest of the Byzantines were easy to pick out amidst the throng. Lady Kittykat's dad was waving a 3-metre-tall purple-gold standard, his daughter taking a break to catch her breath. Neither Justinian nor the spy were present yet.
Rose introduced herself with a curt wave. Her inexpressive demeanour puzzled some of the Villagers who'd met her perkier persona earlier when she'd signed up for the Village. No one bothered to explain the change - such was life in The Slums.
Their numbers had swollen to 80 this evening. Some of Byzantium's dungeon-teams were accompanying them for The Pitfighting Event, just as the PVPers had for yesterday's dungeon runs. A couple of PVErs were drinking to dull the nerves of fighting in front of ten-thousand spectators.
The Pitfighting Event followed a king of the hill format. Villages would take turns battling each other, with a loss being incurred when all of their members were knocked below an elimination point of 20%. Losers were sent packing, while winners stayed to fight the next challenger. Rules-wise, armour was forbidden, the Village with more players sidelined their extras, and anyone who killed another player would be eliminated, too. For a final twist, after each win, the entire Village had to down a beer, a sort of accumulating handicap. Whichever wasted Village survived the most rounds would be crowned the evening's victor.
Would Byzantium come out on top? Would they win the coveted title, becoming The Princes of The Pit?
Henry strongly doubted it.
In the distance, there was an eardrum-splitting shriek. "OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOD! ARTEMIS, MY QUEEN!"
The crowd, spotting a Crusader in shimmering gold and a female Bowman with seaweed hair and olive skin, rushed towards them.
"Mm-my bow, sign!"
"Love your style, girl!"
"I was an atheist, but now I'm a believer! Artemis, bless me with a kick to my groin!"
Both figures moved against the tide with the majesty and power of mythological heroes.
The Bowman seemed to possess the wise grace of Athena, the beauty of Aphrodite, and the focused independence of her namesake goddess. Artemis did not gloat in the attention being heaped upon her, but she also did not shy away from it. That she should be adored was only natural.
Waving, she gave the crowd a pretty smile, hoping the footage would end up in the hands of her disgusting ex.
"Why's she with Justinian?" mumbled a fan.
"ARTEMIS, MY MOTHER IS DISAPPOINTED IN ME, PLEASE PRETEND TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND!"
"Maybe they're roleplaying together?"
"What a stuck-up cow," whispered a bitter anti-fan.
"My lady, anoint my blade with thine soft-penned appellation."
"Stay calm, noble citizens!" Justinian was basking in the glory. He was rank 15 in Suchi's 1v1, but these moments of positive attention had become increasingly scarce the longer his character had remained stuck in the zone. "Do not frighten off our lady guest!"
Back among the Byzantines, Rose stepped in line with Henry. "Guild?"
"No clue." He shrugged.
Artemis8492, from Greece, neither a member of The Slum Empire nor any of Central City's guilds. She'd studied a Bowman martial art, Unshakeable Arrow, under a local master; however, she'd soon discarded this teacher due to the style's impracticality in the 1v1, choosing to learn instead through trial and error. She seemed to be indifferent to anything but this format, having rejected all requests from 6v6 teams. Her climb up the 1v1 ladder had been steady; presently at rank 5, she was predicted by the end of the month to surpass Suchi's 4th best, another Bowman.
Henry's identity was known to a couple dozen top-level spies, limiting the number of candidates, but none of the ones he knew matched every detail. Therefore, this 'Artemis' could be a spy who'd recently been promoted to her guild's upper echelon. She could also be one of the innumerable pawns who were sent to monitor him sometimes without knowing the full details.
Or they might not be a spy.
"Sir Justinian!" yelled Lady Kittykat, sprinting over to the Crusader along with several other Byzantines. "Have you brought us aid in the crusade?"
Justinian ran his golden gauntlet through his golden hair. "A knight never boasts before the dragon's bones are buried. I will say, however, that my spirits this evening are on..." his voice trailed off.
To his and everyone else's surprise, Artemis continued on alone, marching forward with the cocky pace of a hero bringing a monster's head back to present to a king.
By Henry's side, Alfgrim growled at the approaching woman. "I sniff malice."
Henry gave the wolf a reassuring pat, then addressed the spy directly. "Sup?"
Artemis stopped before him, adopting the bossy, self-assured posture of a woman who's rarely experienced rejection due to her beauty. "Teach me that bow art of yours, and I'll consider joining this shabby Village."
Wanting to learn Small-Island Shooting, thought Henry...that wasn't a terrible cover-story.
The Greek accent sounded authentic enough to his ears, indicating a European guild. Of the seven European guilds that Rose's brother had leaked his identity to, the first that sprang to mind was Asatru, due to the spy's deity-based username. If it were them, this 'Artemis' would be the spy known as Loki; all of Asatru's inner circle were male, and Loki was the sole member with the androgyny to mimic a woman's voice. He also had an arrogant, risk-craving personality that would make him pick a username that could blow his cover; without a challenge, where was the excitement?
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While Henry was weighing these observations, a silence settled upon the crowd, over which could be heard the cheers for the competitors in the mud pit.
To avoid a repetition of the mistake with Rose, he wouldn't make any hasty choices.
Unlike the Ramiro plot, he would be investing almost two and half centuries into The Return of The Cripple, and, thus, it would probably irritate him if his plans were screwed up - he couldn't predict his mindset that far in the future.
In light of this possibility, he'd decided to mull more seriously over the interference potential of his enemies. However, that time had been scheduled for later, in The Overdream. These brief hours outside should be spent with his pals rather than worrying about enemies.
For now, he would play it cool and act as he normally did around spies.
Smiling at Artemis, he raised his index finger and pressed a spot in front of his nose, the location of an invisible buzzer. "BZZZT. Terrible introduction. You'll need a more convincing cover story if you want me to tolerate the presence of an obvious spy."
A wave of befuddlement swept across the crowd.
Artemis wrinkled her brow, confused by both the spy accusation and the necessity of justifying herself. "I'm Artemis," she said in disbelief. "Rank 5...in the 1v1."
Henry, his face muscles frozen in the previous smile, pretended to put everything into his neurons for analysing the results of that test. There'd been no detectable delay in the spy's confusion response, which suggested that either it was automatic and therefore natural or the spy's brain and reaction speeds were exceptionally quick. Henry's instincts drove him toward the second explanation, which would be another piece of evidence for the Loki hypothesis - that guy's mental GQ wasn't much lower than his own.
All this information, he filed away for later dissection.
To break the tension, he laughed a curious chuckle, one that mixed indifference to this 'feat', disdain for implying he, The Tyrant of Saana, would be moved by one's standing in Suchi, and humour at the irony of trying to impress him with rankings from his own guild's duelling system.
"Only rank 5?"
"Only?" Artemis looked to her fans for a confirmation that this baffling reply hadn't been a figment of her imagination. She was Artemis! ARTEMIS! This kid, who was miles below her, should be dropping down to kiss her feet in gratitude simply for her willingness to speak to his irrelevant self. Men, they were all trash!
Justinian came forward in a panic. "Sir Henry, Lady Artemis would prove an invaluable asset in the Byzantium's righteous cru—"
"Your roleplaying quest means nothing to me," Henry interrupted. "In fact, we're going to speak about that later. As for you, you bow-slinging brat, I don't see a mountain of platinum in your hands, so how else are you expecting to pay for these archery lessons? With your body? I'm under 18; that would make you a paedophile. Now, if you're seeking free guidance, I can indeed do that, but you'll need to make an appointment to challenge me when I'm at The New Suchi Arena, just like everybody else." He turned to the crowd, for whom he'd emphasised the name of his stadium to attract more training partners. "All of you, tall or short, fat or thin, you're all welcome so long as you're in the top 90th percentile of duellists."
"You!" Artemis unable to summon a response to this bold-faced insult, clenched her fists and began to shake with undirected rage. How dare this snot-nosed child, without even a hair on his chin, how DARE he speak down to her like some common noob.
From the crowd arose many shouts of indignation.
"On the lady's honour, I challenge you to a duel!"
"My little birds will pick your bones cleans."
"Mate, are you gay?"
"$*$# this kid, Artemis, Diamond Leaf Village welcomes you!"
Amongst the enraged mass, a Cutthroat of the white-knight specialisation pushed their way forward until they emerged a few metres behind Henry. With their eyes flared with pumping adrenaline, they gripped their dagger, waiting for the perfect moment to avenge their insulted goddess.
Silently, they broke into a sprint.
Henry, hearing them, unsheathed a butterfly sword. Rotating around, with the bonus Strength of his gripped Spelltome, he split the Cutthroat from skull to groin.
From the two halves that were created, a puddle of inner organs spilt on the soil like spaghetti bolognese.
The Cutthroat disintegrated into soul-lights.
"Unfair!' screamed a Crusader, a fellow white-knight. "That book, you cheated!"
As they summoned their battle gear, several others copied the action, then more copied the copiers.
In a few breaths' time, Henry and his friends were surrounded by hundreds of armed enemies.
"Are you kidding me?" said Henry. Having equipped a set of chest-strapped Spelltomes, he raised a palm to warn the Crusader. "AON!" A cone of lightning washed over them and two dozen nearby belligerents, instantly vaporising them all. Switching to a Spelltome for
Most of the crowd desummoned their arms, but a few stubborn hold-outs stared on with defiance. When Henry was preparing to zap them, he heard an arrogant clap.
"Bravo!" shouted an applauding Artemis. "A teacher should be so decisive in slaughtering his enemies. Good, I accept!"
A moment later, a message appeared in the Byzantium group chat.
-Graeme Walker: Please give our newest member your warmest Byzantium greeting!
-Artemis8492: Greetings.
-22qb2022: Holy...
-Citizen Higgs: ...%&(#!
-frosTyclover: One of us.
-frosTyclover: ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US
While the chat exploded, the Byzantines that'd gathered around Artemis began to chant out loud.
"ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US..."
"ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US..."
When the other Villagers realised what was going on, the Byzantine chant spread through the crowd, as though a hive of wasps with brain-washing venom were stinging each festival-goer and causing them to shout.
"ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US..."
"ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US..."
"ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US..."
The energy of their excitement, the smouldering heat of their collective bellowing gave one the sensation that the marrow in their bones might liquefy and boil.
A Byzantine Beast Tamer scooped up his collapsing girlfriend. "Susan, what's wrong?!"
She gazed into her lover's concerned face, her lips trembling out a whisper. "I'm just so happy, James, we're not going to be garbage anymore."
The older folk, less carried away with the mob's zeal, secretly discussed the implications of this news. With 5th-place Artemis, the Earthfriend she apparently respected, and 15th-place Justinian, the laughing stock that was Byzantium had transformed into a PVP powerhouse. These wiser souls slinked away from the celebration, bee-lining it to the bookies so they could change their bets before the odds were adjusted.
Artemis stared across the chanting crowd at Henry. In 'her' huntress's gaze, two fangs were bared in provocation, one from the persona, the other from the spy beneath it.
The intensity, along with the statement about slaughter, were direction confessions. Another was the Cutthroat and the Crusader he'd slain, who would appear in no record, for neither had existed before today. Both were Asatru pawns, brought in as part of a contrived set-up to bulldoze past Henry's predicted refusals, a blatant scheme that no one but a single European lunatic would dare to orchestrate.
I am here, the spy was announcing, and I have exposed myself. Isn't that strange? Do I have a reason for my confidence, or is it a bluff? Careful, Tyrant, choose wisely.
Henry laughed, before desummoning his armament. "Yeah, I'm still not wasting my time teaching you, Loki."
Leaving further considerations of this matter for The Overdream, he turned back to his confused friends and explained in brief that Artemis was a cross-dressing spy and that they shouldn't associate with 'her'.
Justinian, oblivious to any of the subtext, beamed. With this powerful addition to Byzantium, his winning the 6v6 tournament was practically assured. No longer would he be confined to this starting zone.
High on such thoughts, he gathered the Byzantines and, delivering a heroic line about bonding through combat, had them sign up for The Pitfighting Event.
They went to the back of a queue fifteen-villages long, extending down a ramp that fed into the fighting pit. The donkey and the wolf galloped off to a tent being run by Earthfriend hippies where kids could hand-feed 'fuzzy friends'. Artemis continued to be swarmed by fans, confessing their love, asking for her signature on their weapons, or requesting her to enlist in their Villages instead.
Meanwhile, down in the pit, the mass of mud-caked competitors grunted like pigs as their weapons bit into each other's naked flesh. Each elimination was like a key-press on the instrument that was the crowd, drawing out bright, sad, or angry notes depending on the favourability of the eliminated. Without armour, the battles were over fast. Moreover, Villages who attempted turtle tactics were pelted by spells from the stands.
Steadily, Byzantium inched closer to the madness.
During the wait, Justinian rearranged the squads. Artemis replaced the missing Lightning Legolas as leader of Team Green. Septic Rose, much to Henry's amusement, was made the secondary healer for Justinian's Team Purple. Team Friendship Forever were left intact. Each of these teams were also assigned control of three 6-man PVE teams, whose squads were pre-formed for dungeoneering. The leftovers fell under Justinian's command.
While the groups were mingling, Loki occasionally threw Henry a smug, taunting glare.
Rose nudged Henry in the ribs. "Should I have the girls whack him?"
"Ask me tomorrow; I'm busy enjoying the show."
His reply had a tinge of sarcasm.
The closer they neared the pit, the more nauseous he was feeling.
Each match left the mud more purple as it was diluted with blood. Wooden debris littered the ground, having been tossed in for terrain cover, and this mess was being made more cluttered by the addition of limbs dismembered from players below zero health, which didn't re-attach. These sights, combined with how the dense rows of spectators seemed to rise further above whenever his group progressed down the ramp, with how they jostled like unstable skyscrapers of flesh, with the stench of mud and spilt organs, with the grunts and the grating of metal clashing against metal and gnawing into flesh, with the crowd's delight—
He nibbled on an unpoisoned cookie.
The way these sorts of events blended social festivity and gore had always unsettled him a bit.
With Loki around, he thought of Asatru's hatred for him and his decision to shift PVP from the battlefield to the arena, an initiative which they believed negated their deranged warrior aspirations. He sometimes wondered, though, if that were the goal, then these 'sanitary' settings might actually be the superior path. Removing all consequences of killing, reframing it into an activity one does for fame and fun, this had its own potential as a moral corrosive.
The question was whether it was corrosive to a meaningful degree, and that, he didn't know. Past research had dismissed the impact of videogames in this realm, but those games were less realistic. There was a slight gap between clicking a button to kill a figure on a screen and shoving a knife into someone's stomach while they weep on your shoulder.
Of course, in the real-world of 2050, this was all inconsequential. Everyone lived in surveillance states with police drones ready 24/7 to apprehend them for wrongdoing, so crime was almost non-existent. And despite Asatru's beliefs about an imminent collapse, there was no going back, not from what Henry'd seen.
After one of the matches came to a close, news of the Byzantine 'superteam' reached a Peopleworker duo who'd been projecting their commentary of the battles. When the pair mentioned this to the spectators, the stands broke into a roar demanding for Byzantium to go next.
One by one, the Villages ahead capitulated to the mob, moving aside and opening up a clear path.