One Week Ago
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Tony was tired.
He’d been slamming through his arena quests for seemingly little reward. Every time the small mass of rings, eyes, and wings popped into his visual it had some excuse as far as his pending level ups and the blocked access to his talents as a result of the slave collar.
He had held out hope that the quest rewards from the mini-archon would have overridden the limits placed on him by the slave collar. It had been wishful thinking. Unless Serketzi willed it, his quest rewards were held out of reach.
He’d fought both the bird-person and the walking bear in the days since his 3-on-1 fight and they’d both gone just about as expected with the “aid” of the Hamaskyr. The bird person leaned into the “flying archer” advantage and the walking bear had been the fuzziest wrestling opponent Tony had fought since Maximus. Tony was confident that he would have been able to beat them both normally, but Serketzi had demanded that he take the Berserker’s Brew before each bout.
There was still the undead that he needed to fight, Rania had been dumped back into the barracks, and then there would be the champion… whoever that was.
“I don’t get why I need to fight Rania again. I beat her during the chain fight,” Tony spat.
“Well, unlike your other two opponents, she wasn’t incapacitated. You got her on the Ring Out and Serketzi wants to see the two of you fight more… it’s as simple as that,” Jak explained.
“That’s stupid,” Tony answered.
“You’re in a good mood today,” Jak commented, the sarcasm obvious in his tone.
”Things aren’t going the way that I want them to, I’m tired of beating people that I’ve already fought and won against, I miss my dog, and I don’t want to be here. On top of that, all my shit is being blocked by this…” Tony clawed at the metal collar fastened around his neck, “fucking thing and if I wasn’t ninety percent sure it would kill me, I would rip it off.”
Jak just shrugged, “I wish I could help man.”
“Do you?” Tony snapped.
Jak side-eyed him, “Yeah, I do. You’re not the only one stuck down here.”
“You don’t seem too bummed out about being here,” Tony said.
“It’s not like I have a choice, why be upset about it?”
”There’s always a -“ Tony started before he caught himself. If he hadn’t been able to figure out the loophole in how the collar worked, he would have had a lot less choice than he did now and what choice he did have was fairly limited.
Tony punched the stone wall of the barracks, taking a significant chunk out of it.
“Whoa!” Jak shouted, “What’s your deal?”
Tony answered the question with a glare that said “Do I really have to repeat myself?”
”I think that Berserker stuff is messing with you,” Jak observed.
“What do you mean?”
”You’re pale, angrier than usual, snippy…”
Tony shrugged at the Ashtar man while he looked at his status screen. There was a debuff present that he had become accustomed to ignoring.
Hamaskyr Withdrawals: You have recently been exposed to a substance with addictive properties and have not consumed more of it in 24 hours. -2 Charisma -2 Empathy -2 Socialize
Duration: 3 Days or until more [Hamaskyr] is consumed.
Well Shit… Tony thought.
“Whatever,” Tony answered “who do I need to talk to to get these fights done and over with?”
”Well, your next opponent, Akmor the Black, should be finishing up his chain fight soon. You’re the capstone fight for him,” Jak offered.
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For a moment, Tony was offended. He was the capstone fight in someone else’s Chain Fight? Wasn’t him being in the pits some sort of punishment for not being Serketzi’s plaything? Wasn’t he supposed to be front and center?
Tony shook himself of the feeling. Maybe Akmor the Black was Serketzi’s new plaything and he’d be released as a result? As if he would be so lucky.
“Are you listening?” Jak asked.
Tony looked at him, blank-faced. “Nope, sure wasn’t.”
“Just be careful, something is off about all of this,” Jak repeated.
The Arena Doors slammed open to the roars of the crowd and the stench of gore.
“Ascendant! You’re up!” The Padinus door guard shouted.
The intended order hit the collar and Tony found himself jogging toward the arena without a thought.
I guess she added some “users” to the collar… Tony lamented.
The sands of the arena squished and crunched under his boots, thickened with blood and viscera. It was everywhere. The sands were red throughout and so saturated in some spots that it looked like grave dirt… chunks of flesh, bone, organs, and limbs were littered across the whole of the arena.
In the center, atop a pile of bodies, was Akmor the Black.
Akmor the Black Level: ??? Class: Dread Knight
Race: Orkken (Undead) Essence: 5
The urge to flee swelled in Tony’s chest. This was all wrong. He hadn’t come up against anyone in the arena with an essence rating, let alone one higher than his with an indiscernible level. On top of that, Akmor was a Dread Knight.
You have successfully resisted Akmor the Black’s Aura of Fear!
“I didn’t think Dread Knights got Aura talents!” Tony shouted above the cacophony of the crowd. Akmor shifted.
The sound of ripping meat and tendon reached Tony’s ears as he fully processed what he was seeing. Akmor was eating… consuming the flesh of the foes he’d just slain.
Dromhoke’s Vow: Slay Akmor the Black after sundering his Dreadblade
Rewards: XP, Summon Dreadblade Talent Restored
Tony grit his teeth. This wasn’t going to be easy… or fun.
Akmor threw the arm he’d been gnawing on aside and ripped himself free of the pile of necrotized flesh he’d sunken into with a bellow. The undead Orkken had to be eight feet tall with arms like trees. Tree trunks would have been preferred, but each arm had all manner of appendage branching off of them. Tony was fairly certain that he saw Rend’s velociraptor like legs attached in there somewhere.
Akmor ripped up what looked like a raw tablet of iron from the sand. It was the quintessential bad ass sword that every edge lord would equip, a slab of raw iron that was more akin to a banquet table than a weapon. Tony gulped as wailing spectral faces danced across the gleam of the weapon.
He felt like he was back in the dungeon on the Ascendant Flagship, fighting Mendacius’s latest abomination. When he looked up to Serketzi’s box, he saw the Empress and a new face. They were fair skinned with loose bundles of amber curls held back by a circlet, gleaming white eyes, and a pair of white wings… they looked like an angel of sorts. Tony thought fast.
In Godmaker Ignacius had a follower named Pahadron that looked similar. The fact that the angel-looking thing waved at Tony cemented his thought process.
Tony looked back just in time to duck under a horizontal slash that would have, very likely, crushed every bone in his torso. The rush of air that followed had Tony rolling like a log on the ground in its wake. He got to his feet and rushed in, Dromohoke’s Vow drawn and by his side, he lunged with his blade extended and streaked past the undead monstrosity.
Black blood and coagulate splattered onto the sand. Tony slid to a stop and turned just in time to bring his blade up, it slammed back against his shoulder as Akmor’s attack bypassed his parry and sent him soaring back across the arena sands… almost all the way back to the barracks gateway.
Akmor had chipped ten percent of Tony’s HP through a defended attack and displaced him.
Tony’s head was a mess. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see Akmor’s pattern, he wasn’t registering when the undead thing was activating talents, and he was having trouble figuring out when to activate his own. The confusion gave way to frustration, and the frustration quickly boiled up to rage.
Pact of Spite has Activated
Rancor has Activated
Channel Dreadblade has Activated - 2 Shards Remain
The swell of power that arrived with the berserk state and the remnants of Legion empowering his blade drove the fear out of Tony. He didn’t need to “figure out” how to win, he didn’t need to observe this undead thing’s patterns, and he certainly didn’t need to think about the activation of his talents. He was an Ascendant, his talents should be second nature. The only one he needed to be aware of was Channel Dreadblade.
Saga Activated: War Against Heaven - Dire Battle: Should you perish, death will be final. XP Gain increased by 25%
Tony’s eyes darted to his status bars to confirm that, due to Pahadron’s meddling the Saga had activated. Tony also noticed that the Hamaskyr Withdrawal debuff was gone… that may have had something to do with the dart Tony had failed to notice protruding from his skin.
“Whatever…” he mumbled.
Akmor’s giant blade crashed down toward Tony and his reflexes, tried, true, and unrestricted by withdrawal symptoms fired off. He brought his blade up into Akmor’s and fired off an Adamant Slash, cleaving through the front third of the mass of iron and protecting him all in one fell swoop.
There’s the Sunder… Tony thought.
Your [Slave Collar] Administrator has released your quest rewards!
Talents Restored: Bloody Haste, Oath, Sacred Vow, Adamant Slash+
Tony activated Bloody Haste immediately. The surge of speed offered by the talent coupled with his berserk state and the Hamaskyr resulted in violent levels of acceleration.
Blood burst from old wounds as Tony rocketed toward Akmor, slashing at his weapon over and over again until he reached the beast himself. Before Akmor could react, Tony carved a hole through his torso and decapitated him.
"Come get some!"