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Blind Judgment
28 - Caged Beast

28 - Caged Beast

Name: Cain Miller

Title: Blind Man's Avarice

Class: Executioner

Strength: 36

Endurance: 35

Vitality: 22

Dexterity: 30

Intelligence: 11

Wisdom: 27

Perception: 16

Skills:

[Chop (3)] - passive

[Enhanced Sense (2)] - passive

[Summon Flame (3)] - active

[Silent Blade (1)] - active

[Map Line (2)] - active

[Spectral Hand (1)] - active

I surveyed my status as I waited, sitting in the dungeon below the stands of the pit. Then, letting my head fall back on the wall, I attempted to tune out the other fighters.

The strength trait had been stagnant for a while, and I tried to remember when it last increased. Probably when I gained my class. Perception hadn't increased recently either, and intelligence hadn't moved since the beginning. I still had no idea what its purpose was.

The week had passed surprisingly quickly. I had stayed within the building, with no desire to go out yet and get answers. Everyone I passed in the halls avoided me, and I wondered whether they were other fighters or people who had watched my fight with Eric.

All the stress put on my body from that fight had faded like a dream, with the exception of the boiling heat in my veins. Endurance was close to strength, and vitality had increased after Grathskin healed my injuries. I didn't look forward to tonight; not to whatever new wounds I would gain and not to whatever Lifdol had planned for me.

Speak of the Devil.

His entrance into the room was as dramatic as ever: door banging against the wall, loud voice calling for attention.

"No newbies tonight, so Solvich and Driftskull will be starting. Melane and Rath, Weasel, and Eskal and Cain. You two, no weapons," he listed off. "No hidden weapons either. Looking at you, Eskal." A man scoffed in reply.

Clearing his throat, Lifdol continued. "Last are Yutith and Scorne. Get ready—the crowd is raging tonight," he laughed.

Straightening up, I grabbed the blindfold from my pocket. Pushing back my hair, I reached back and tied the fabric around my head. I scoffed—for a second, I had expected the darkness to get even deeper.

The waiting was even worse this time. I wasn't first onto the pitch, and the starting fight had already set off a dull roar from the spectators that shook the walls and my head. No matter how close, all other sounds were overpowered, and I inhaled the smell of dust with every breath until my lungs were clogged.

A body settled beside mine on the ground, heels scraping over the dirt as he sighed.

"I watched your fight," he said, as if he was trying to rattle me. I said nothing. His head brushed against the wall before he continued. "Brutal, don't you think? I'm sure Eric was dead by the third stab."

Turning my head towards him, I wondered what he saw. "He stopped trying to breathe by the sixth."

He shifted. "Anyways, I'm Eskal; your partner, your opponent, whatever you want to call me. And I promise not to cheat."

"I have no reasons to believe you."

"Pat me down; I swear I'm clean!" he laughed.

"I'm sure Lifdol would only think it would make it more interesting," I guessed.

"He'd also be pissed as all hells, but what can ya do." Feet once again scraping along the ground, Eskal made to stand up. "Just wanted to introduce myself and say good luck—I won't go easy on you, even if you're a newbie," and he was gone.

After that, the first two matches passed uneventfully. I had gotten somewhat used to the noise, now only a dull pounding in the back of my skull.

Once Weasel exited the room to a tidal wave of cheers and started the third match, I left my spot on the floor and went to the doors. Eskal sidled up next to me, his breathing loud in the compact space. Weasel's fight quickly ended, but I was glad the waiting was over.

A sense of déjà vu washed over me as the doors slammed shut behind us. Lifdol was announcing again, voice ringing in my head. I followed Eskal out into the middle of the arena, where Lifdol introduced a cage of some sort.

Eskal slowed, and I heard the sound of something like a grate opening. I followed, and a large cube shape entered my senses' range. I reached out my hand, finding rusted metal; its iciness bit into my hand. I tried to move it, and the metal door swung towards me. I stepped past it, following the sound of Eskal's feet shuffling on the sand.

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The door clanged shut, rattling the whole contraption. Not a second later, an unforgiving fist slammed into my jaw. My head crashed into the metal bars of the cage, and the cold iron bit into my ribs. I groaned as my wrist was wrenched back, trapped against my body and the cage wall.

A fucking cage fight; Lifdol must be joking.

The next fist that came for me wasn't joking, but I expected it this time. Knuckles grazed my cheek as I dodged, and I sent a punch aimed at Eskal's body in return.

Hand-to-hand combat was never something I had often got to practice on Earth, and I felt weak using only my hands.

However, the hit landed solidly in his gut, and he released a groaning breath that ruffled my hair. I backed up as he stumbled away, rubbing a hand into my aching jaw. I didn't condemn Eskal for trying to get an advantage. Lifdol had already proved to me that these matches were life and death.

Across from me, Eskal laughed. "I didn't expect you to recover so fast. Oh, well."

I shook my head. "It was just a punch; should've expected it."

He said nothing in return as he launched for me again, wind hissing. I got my arms up in time, taking a hit that pushed me back and left an aching bruise on my forearm. My wrist throbbed as I grabbed his retreating arm, squeezing Eskal's bicep and using just enough flames to make him yelp and pause.

My other hand landed a hit square on his nose, coming back bloody with the smell of metal. Eskal cursed, and my arm pulled back, preparing to hit him again.

His hand caught my fist, and he yanked me forward. I staggered, off balance, Eskal's hand somehow ending up behind my neck, and he pulled my face into his knee with a smash.

Shoving against his chest to gain some distance, I reached up to wipe away the blood now freely flowing from my nose. My head pounded, dizziness threatening to pull me to the floor.

Now, I couldn't smell anything except my blood.

Eskal circled me, feet kicking up sand with every step. I mirrored him, bracing myself. He came at me low, too fast to dodge, arms squeezing around my middle.

I was slammed into the iron bars, head whipping back against them. Ignoring it, I brought my elbows down on Eskal's back twice, right between the shoulder blades. He grunted and tried to pull away, but I got one more hit, feeling something crack underneath his skin.

Eskal yelled, arms tightening around me, and my breath rushed away as he threw me over his head. I landed heavily on my back, sand and dirt flying up as I crashed.

Knowing I was dead if I stayed there, I wasted no time scrambling up, straining my senses to find where Eskal had gone.

His figure slammed toward me like a freight train, and I raised my arms to cover my face. However, his fist didn't hit my forearms but clocked me right on my left ear, pain digging a tunnel to my brain. A wet trickle of blood slid down my neck.

What? I shook my head, confused. I was positive Eskal was in front of me, and there was no way I would’ve missed his fist coming from the side of my head.

Still disoriented, Eskal came for me again, air hissing through his teeth. I dodged this time, sending a punch to his ribs, and right as it landed, knuckles slammed into my other ear. I groaned, my brain feeling like mush.

How did he do it? I staggered back, needing distance as I tried to think. Unless Eskal had some sort of skill, I couldn't explain how his hands got to the side of my head with no warnings.

Over the week, I had thought over my skills and how to utilize them better in a fight. [Chop] and [Silent Blade] were useless now since I had no weapon. [Spectral Hand] took so much mana, even when I only practiced moving small objects in my room, so I wanted to use it only if I knew it would give me a good enough advantage. [Summon Flame] would be good here, but only if I could get a good grab on Eskal.

That left [Map Line]. It seemed useless in such a situation, unless…

I activated it, instructing the skill to guide to Eskal. The glowing red line snapped into existence, starting in the middle of my chest and ending where I assumed Eskal's was. It moved when Eskal stepped to the side, and I had to stop myself from grinning.

That pool of power in my gut began to slowly drain like an hourglass, but it was so arbitrary I knew half an hour could pass and only a third would be gone by the end.

Both ears still leaked blood, I felt delirious as I rushed towards Eskal, following my guiding line.

He brushed aside my left arm as I moved to hit him but couldn't dodge as my right fist bulleted up, hitting him square in the throat. Something crunched, Eskal’s head snapping back as he painfully wheezed.

With laboring breaths, he didn’t falter and punched toward me, arm aiming wildly. I was baffled until [Map Line] flickered, the end moving from Eskal's chest to somewhere near my ribs. Then, instinctively, I lunged away from it, rushing air making my shirt flutter.

The line moved back to Eskal, and I turned my head towards him. That had been nowhere near his arm, but it had felt like a missed punch.

"What the fuck is that?" I demanded, and Eskal chuckled harshly.

"Not sure how you dodged it this time. But damn, is it so much easier than usual since you're blind." My lips curled into a snarl at his words. "Figure it out, Cain, 'cause I sure as shit ain't telling you."

That was all Eskal said before he came at me again, and for endless minutes—or seconds—we fell into a cycle of dodge and punch, filled with grazing knuckles and buckling hits.

[Map Line] flickered again, back to my ear this time. I raised my hand in front of it lightning quick, ignoring Eskal's fist supposedly coming for my stomach. I'd take the risk.

With a rush of wind, I caught a fist in my hand, summoning my flames fast and hot. Eskal screamed, lurching away.

Understanding filled me. Somehow, Eskal could teleport his moving hand assumingly wherever he wanted it. Now I needed to know his limits; how far was his reach, and how many times could he do it?

"Fucking fire users. It hurts every time," Eskal hissed. I was a little surprised by his outburst, but not much. If others could use fire, it explained why Lifdol hadn't demanded I tell him about my flames after the fight with Eric—unless he never actually saw the body up close.

That burst of fire had drained a considerable amount of my mana, and I wanted this fight to end. A thin layer of sweat covered my skin, and I could feel blood drip down my right temple.

I gritted my teeth as Eskal came for me again, both arms kicking up wind. One appeared in front of my nose, the other at my gut. Double teleportation was something I hadn't expected, and [Map Line] flickered in and out of existence.

Deciding which punch to dodge, I ducked my head and took a fist to the front of my kidney, and my brain whited out from the force, all air leaving my lungs.

With my body falling forwards, I shoved Eskal in the sternum, summoning all concentration to activate [Spectral Hand], duplicating the move I'd used against Eric. This time, the trip had a lot more force, helped by my push, and Eskal's head bounced against the ground when he fell.

[Map Line] disappeared, and my pool of power drained almost entirely from using my newest skill. The cost left a throbbing ache in the back of my head.

Eskal was quick to get up and pivot in the sand as I stumbled after, hazy from lack of breath. Still, I jumped at his back before he could dodge, wrapping an arm around his neck and squeezing.

My other arm came up to help, and Eskal clawed at my skin, drawing blood.

He choked, I squeezed, and a haze of blood that clogged the senses settled around us. Eskal's hands began to weaken, slipping off my skin. I growled, feeling the veins beneath his skin pump weakly, slowing down with every second.

"WE HAVE A VICTOR!!" came Lifdol's amplified voice, shattering my fugue.

I let my arms slacken, and Eskal fell heavily to the ground. I could hear his heart beating underneath the screams of the crowd, albeit slowly. He would live.

I wondered whether or not I was relieved.