Chapter XXXIII (33)- Harvey vs a Troll, the Arena Begins

After dropping off Ione at the medical wing and managing to deftly dodge any questions about her injuries, Kizu made his way over to Roba’s office to report the events to her. Needless to say, Roba was not overly enthusiastic about his misadventure down in the dungeon. Even less so when he explained Ione’s involvement. Thankfully, she didn’t expel him on the spot like she had threatened. Unfortunately, she also told him she had no intention of allowing him to skip out on the combat test, despite his complete exhaustion. As the sun was already over the horizon, Kizu sighed knowing what was coming in a few hours.

The worst part was that he felt he couldn’t even practice his spells. Any spells cast sucked away his blood’s reserves. Reserves he might very well need in a few hours. So instead of being productive, he went up to his chambers and flopped down face first on his bed.

A familiar lump pounced on his head from the rafters.

“Hello Mort,” Kizu said, voice muffled by the pillow.

Through Kizu’s bond, he knew the monkey’s initial intention to pull on his hair. But instead, something in his familiar shifted, as if sensing his complete and utter exhaustion. Mort hopped down and curled up in the crook of Kizu’s shoulder and head. They napped like that for a couple hours.

Kizu didn’t let himself slip into too deep of sleep. He instead fluttered at that in between state, tantalizing himself with the near grasp of sleep before pulling himself away. It was hardly decent rest, but it was the best he could do for the moment.

Gathering up his things, he left Mort to sleep as he prepared for the fight. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Earlier he had fought, outmaneuvered, and escaped vampiric spawn from the pits of the World Dungeon. Now he stressed himself out about getting beat up by some other mage. So silly. And yet the unease continued to nag at him.

He reached the courtyard about an hour early and followed old signs carved into the stone walls that directed him to the preparation room for the competitors.

To his surprise, he found the little room completely empty. At first, he assumed that maybe nobody else felt the need to arrive as early as him. But time passed on and still no one arrived. He triple checked the signs but saw nothing wrong with his navigation. Kizu peeked out the door into the courtyard and spotted half a hundred faces filling up the stadium. It definitely seemed like the right place.

Finally, just before Kizu gave up and tried to find an adult, Harvey entered. His friend froze in the doorway and paled at the sight of him.

“W-what are you doing here?” Harvey said. He clutched at his flute like a drowning man to driftwood.

“I told you before that I was competing.”

“Did you not hear? Everyone else pulled out for the week.”

“Everyone? You really mean….”

“It’s only me and those brutes. They sent the word out for everyone else to get lost. Kizu, get out now. These guys aren’t supposed to be as far down in the rankings as they are. They were banned during their very first year from competing for being too savage. Even with heavy rejuvenation and restoration spells, their opponents stayed in the medical wing for weeks.”

“But they’re allowed now?”

“For their final year, they were deemed by the headmaster to be mature enough to exercise the restraint they previously lacked.”

It sounded like Harvey was quoting other students. But that wasn’t a comfort to Kizu. He had heard this all before, but he hadn’t really believed that everyone in the academy would pull out. Harvey had just made one ill-advised joke. Why would someone uproot the entire day’s competition for that?

“At least they're at a low skill level,” Kizu tried. “Nobody has taught them anything in years.”

“Their friend did. The student in second place we saw fight. He was appointed their direct tutor so they wouldn’t fall behind in their studies.”

“Well-”

“Stop,” Harvey cut him off. “There is no positive swing to this. I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t want to be here, Kizu. They might kill me. But if I leave, I’ll be even more likely to end up dead. You need to get out of here before it’s too late. Stick your fingers in your throat and vomit. Tell Arclight that you ate something bad.”

“Arclight won’t believe that.”

“But she won’t force you to stay either.”

“I’m staying,” Kizu said, knowing he very well damned himself to a beating with the words. But how bad could it actually be?

Before Harvey formed any more arguments, the door behind them swung open.

Three extremely robust individuals walked in. They approached them and stood uncomfortably close as they stared down at Kizu and Harvey.

“My brother,” the largest one said, looming over Harvey. “Is a weak moron. He runs away from every fight presented to him and hides behind the legs of actual men. Unfortunately, I’m one of those men. In the future, mock him behind closed doors.”

Kizu was surprised there was no malice in the half-troll’s voice. He sounded cool and collected. Not at all what Kizu had expected from him.

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“Why are you here?” one of the others said to Kizu. His eyes were a violet shade which might be pretty if not juxtaposed with his thick unibrow and scowl.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kizu kept his voice level. “I told my friend I would compete.”

“He won’t be your opponent.”

“I’m glad,” Kizu lied. Then he added a little truth. “I wouldn't want to fight him. He’s my friend.”

The half-troll brother actually nodded at him, looking pleased by his answer. The other two looked irritated.

“When we threatened him before, we expected him to pull his name out,” the third one said to his unibrowed friend.

“Must have took it as a challenge.”

“So, one of us doesn’t get to compete now?” the third one complained melodramatically. “Damn. Years of training, wasted. Now I’ll have to wait an entire week more.”

“I wanted to punch in Tip’s face.”

“Like you could. You’re still reeling from getting dumped last week. Likely to fall over in tears at any moment.”

They chortled and insulted one another but Kizu couldn’t help but notice the glares never stopped from the unibrowed one. He really had been highly anticipating a fight. And he didn’t think Kizu would be much of one. And to be fair, Kizu was ranked 784th.

But still, Kizu doubted every student in the academy could kill a vampiric spawn. That had to account for some sort of skills. He kept repeating that reassurance in his mind, hoping that if he thought it enough, it would be true.

Of course, the most mild mannered one of them, Tip, decided to step down. Leaving Harvey with the brother and Kizu with the irritable unibrowed one.

The two older students stopped speaking entirely after Tip’s departure. They took seats on benches across the room from Kizu and Harvey. The brother closed his eyes and appeared to sleep for a minute, but the other maintained a glower at Kizu the entire time.

Kizu and Harvey remained silent as well, not wanting to attract any more ire, though Kizu wondered how they possibly would be able to attract more than they already had.

Then, finally, a scrawny older student in robes and a pointed hat poked his head in.

“Gob Lucas and Harvey Hugo, to your positions please.”

The brother of Harvey’s offended classmate stood and towered over them.

“Don’t think I want this fight any more than you do,” he said to Harvey. “After four years, I’m finally permitted to enter the competition again, and I have to fight you. For my sneak brother’s supposed honor.”

Kizu silently doubted that Lucas wanted the fight less than Harvey. But Harvey just nodded, gulped, and started following after the student who had called their names. The scales on his face looked a dull pale, as if washed of their natural color.

Left in the room with the glowering student, Kizu tried to look anywhere but at him. It was hard since he sat on the bench directly in front of him, glaring with his hands clenched into fists. Tension continued to rise in the room like miasma. It seemed like a bit of an overreaction, but Kizu wasn’t about to say that. Instead, he just fidgeted and avoided eye contact.

One of the large stones on the wall suddenly went translucent. It was as if they had a window into the stadium, the enchanted stone showed them what must be on the other side of its counterpart in the courtyard.

Through it, Kizu could see Harvey clutching his flute with white knuckles while his opponent loomed on the other side. The half-troll opponent cracked his neck to either side, eyeing Harvey. Then, at Arclight’s whistle, they both jerked into motion.

Unfortunately, Harvey’s motion was a backwards step where he immediately tripped over a stone and fell. Lucas looked like a serpent as he weaved toward his prey. He moved as if anticipating a trap or an attack from Harvey. But Harvey did nothing besides hurriedly attempt to wipe the dirt out of his flute.

Lucas didn’t use any spell Kizu was familiar with. For a second, Kizu thought the older student intended to simply pummel Harvey with his raw strength. But then Kizu focused on his spell sense to better understand what was happening. Through it, Kizu realized Lucas had amplified his already massive size and strength with some sort of muscle enhancement spell. Kizu knew of some potions that had similar effects on a body, although he didn’t have any firsthand experience with them. While Kizu couldn’t quite understand the spellcraft used by Lucas, he understood the results just fine. The half-troll now had the size and strength of a pure troll.

Somehow Harvey managed to throw himself to the side, taking only a glancing blow from Lucas’s inhuman speed. But even just the slightest tap against his arm caused the Tainted boy to cry out and clutch the wound while he sat in the dirt.

Lucas slowly stood, as if savoring the palpable fear emanating Harvey. But the older student’s relishing gave Harvey the seconds he needed to raise his flute to his mouth and begin to play.

The song was altogether different from the one Kizu had heard back at the placement tests. Harvey’s notes rang a bit out of tune, the pressure of the situation obviously taking its toll. But the Tainted boy closed his eyes and focused.

The notes cleared and with their clarity, Lucas began to slow. Even from a different room, untargeted by Harvey, Kizu still felt the pull. The deep longing of friendship that emanated from the music. Kizu desperately wanted to run to his friend. He wanted to help him. Harvey never deserved this sort of treatment.

“Sit down,” the other student said with a snarl.

Kizu hadn’t realized he had stood. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and sat back on his bench.

Lucas, while slowed, seemed to resist the music. He advanced on Harvey. Harvey kept his eyes shut as Lucas raised a fist.

He swung down and the sickening crunch of bones silenced the crowd.

But it didn’t silence Harvey’s notes.

Harvey remained completely intact. Kizu hadn’t been the only one pulled into Harvey’s music. One of the students from the audience had thrown himself in front of Lucas’s fist right before impact. Then four more students threw themselves at Lucas’ back.

Lucas swatted the crowd back and made to grab Harvey again but the first person he had punched sprang up again, blocking another blow.

Kizu marveled at Harvey’s power. His notes were a wild frenzy, but with an underlying structure that kept it from unfraying.

Harvey sat cross-legged in the dirt, playing his flute with his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to everything happening around him. But now a dozen different spectators stood in front of him, their arms outstretched as if to block him from even Lucas’ view.

Lucas took a step back and crossed his beefy arms. He examined the arena and looked to be evaluating his situation. Even as he did so, another spectator jumped down into the courtyard to join her peers standing before Harvey.

Then Lucas smiled. Madness touched the half-troll’s eyes. He lunged forward, but not at Harvey, he reached the closest student and chopped his hand into the back of her knees, collapsing her and sending her tumbling to the side. The next student he kicked the shins of, snapping them like kindling. Then he grabbed the uniform of one student and swung him at another, sending both sprawling across the other end of the courtyard.

He laughed. A deep booming laugh. Where it lacked in actual humor, it made up for in sheer gusto. He channeled everything into the obstacles in front of him, dismantling them one by one.

When, finally, Lucas stepped over the carnage of writhing bodies to where Harvey sat, still playing his flute, his humanity appeared to have completely melted away. He plucked Harvey’s flute from his lips and snapped it in two in a single hand. The broken flute fell to the dirt.

As soon as the music ended, the screams began.