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Chapter 21a - Complicated

Chapter 21a - Complicated

“How do we stop the fight?” Glade yelled, doing his best to be heard over the roaring crowd.

“Is everything ok?” Cirea asked just as loudly, a look of concern on her face.

“One of my friends is down there!” Glade explained, waving his hand in the direction of the arena. “We need to stop the fight before that Gnoll takes him apart!”

“Are you sure?” Cirea gave him a bemused look, scrutinizing the fighters in the arena. “Which one is your friend?”

“The idiot with blond hair! His name is Vladimir!”

“Your friends with an Arsus?” She asked incredulously.

“I have no idea what an Arsus is,” Glade said, grinding his teeth. “But he is a friend. Now, how do we stop the fight?”

“We don’t,” Cirea said, her demeanor shifting from one of incredulity to apologetic. “Your Vladimir and the Treeless are slaves owned by House Lensher. They’re the only ones who can forfeit the fight, which they won’t do. They’ll lose their chance to enter the labyrinth.”

Glade looked again at his friend, noticing the slave collar around his neck for the first time. He had no idea how Vlad had gotten himself into this mess, but neither was he particularly surprised. His big oaf had a propensity for getting into trouble. Though, that didn’t typically involve a murderous 7 foot tall half hyena half human body mage from another world.

“But he’ll be killed! I’ve seen that Gnoll with the two swords fight. Vlad is good, but he doesn’t stand a chance against someone of his skill!” Glade said.

“I doubt he’ll be killed,” Cirea said, though she herself didn’t look all that convinced. “Death matches are only authorized for traitors and criminals. This is a formal duel for access to the labyrinth. While deaths sometimes occur, they’re rare. That being said, you’re right to worry about Kirkash. I remember when he fought in the arena years ago. He’s a wiley one with those blades of his. I don’t know anything about that Harnek character, but so long as he can hold his own for a few minutes they’ll probably win.”

Glade stared at Cirea at a loss for words. She, like him, was a warrior who had waded through her fair share of fights. But from the time he had spent with her he had learned that the bailiff was more interested in fighting for the sake of fighting. She didn’t know death. Not like he did. Which was why she couldn’t see that Kirkash was a killer looking for his next victim.

“AS YOU WELL KNOW, THIS MATCH HAS BEEN IN THE MAKING FOR WEEKS!” The announcer yelled to the excited roars of the fans, interrupting Glade’s thoughts. “BODY MAGE VERSUS BODY MAGE! SHADOW CASTER VERSUS SHADOW CASTER! WHO WILL PREVAIL?”

Glade growled in frustration, forcing himself to calm down. The surprise of seeing Vlad in this situation had unbalanced him, but that was no excuse to for not taking the time to think.

Taking a cleansing breath, Glade opened his eyes to begin analyzing the situation from all angles.

Vlad pandered to the crowds by waving his arms, riling them up as best he could in anticipation of the fight. As he did, Glade could just make out that his friend was speaking to the cloaked figure beside him. While he couldn’t read Vlad’s lips from this distance, he knew that look on his friend's face. He had a plan.

Though knowing this didn’t inspire Glade with a great deal of confidence. Vlad’s plans usually weren’t that well thought out to begin with. He should know, seeing as he had been thrown off a roof and shot by one of Vlad’s so-called plans.

Not knowing what else to do, Glade activated his specialty. Maybe he could tip the scales in Vlad’s favor using magic?

The arena exploded into a kaleidoscope of color. Rows upon rows of intricate runes were etched into the arena walls and were empowered with a ridiculous amount of mana. He even saw the outline of a dome encasing the field.

“What magical protections does this arena have?” Glade asked, his heart sinking as he tried to take in the complexity of the magic before him.

“The best!” Cirea said proudly. “The Hall of Houses spared no expense in warding the entire arena to protect both the audience as well as the fighters in case someone gets too excited during the match. If my sources are correct, the enchantments are elvish made. Can you believe that? They even have protections against would-be saboteurs trying to tamper with the fights.”

After seeing the immense power going into the enchantments, Glade believed her. He couldn’t even register Vlad or anyone else in the arena with his telepathy. Maybe if he had Bragden’s innate understanding of enchantments he could do something, but he didn’t even know where to begin.

“WARRIORS!” the announcer bellowed, drawing Glade’s attention back to the sands. “STAND READY!”

At the announcer's words, Kirkash drew his twin blades before barking at the smaller Gnoll, who promptly scrambled in panic to get behind the large fighter. It was obvious which of the two was the experienced in the arena.

“They’re going with a typical support formation,” Cirea observed casually, taking in the scene in the same manner a sports enthusiast would a match. “Mage in the back and fighter up front, which is likely for the best. That shadow caster cub looks like he’s ready to piss himself. I wonder what the Arsus and Treeless will… hold on a moment, what have we here?”

Glade turned off his spell so he could see the arena grounds clearly. Vlad and the one in the cloak spread out like they were going to try and double team Kirkash.

“That's a rush formation!” Cirea said, grabbing Glade’s arm in excitement. “Your friend has guts, I’ll give him that! This will give them an advantage against Kirkash, but will make both of them vulnerable to the Gnoll’s shadow magic…”

Before she could explain further, the announcer yelled. “FIGHT!”

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The word had barely left the announcer’s mouth when the fighters in the arena exploded into action.

The first to move was the cloaked figure. Two indistinct swords of shadow erupted from his hands as he dashed toward Kirkash. He crossed the distance in the blink of an eye surprising both the Alpha and everyone in the audience.

“Grant never told me the Treeless could fight!” Cirea bellowed, jumping to her feet as both the cloaked figure and Kirkash began trading blows.

Vlad too had begun moving, but nowhere near as fast as his companion. But instead of rushing toward the two fighting, he bore down on Gnoll shadow caster.

Harnek was already throwing what looked like a ball of dark fire toward the inbound Vlad, but what happened next strained Glade’s already over-taxed mind to breaking.

“He’s shape shifting!” someone roared behind Glade with excitement.

Vlad bellowed as he charged, which started out human but morphed into a deep, throaty roar as his head and arms changed. Fur burst out of his exposed torso and head, his face elongating into a snout filled with sharp teeth. His upper chest and arms also changed, now rippling with muscle behind a coat of thick fur, his hands tipped with what appeared to be sharp claws.

Harnek’s ball of fiery shadow splashed harmlessly against Vlad’s chest, who from the waist up looked like a grizzly bear.

“Go Nanny!” he heard Kedryn yell next to him. “Tear black robes head off!”

Vlad bore down on the shadow caster who had clearly lost control of his bladder and his senses. He simply stood there, his eyes wide with terror before Vlad backhanded him.

Glade watched in awe as Harnek flew into the walls of the arena with a loud crunch.

The crowd roared their approval.

“That was smart to take out the mage first, but that Treeless isn’t going to last much longer,” Cirea observed, drawing Glade’s attention back to the other fight.

Both swordsmen were moving at speeds that Glade found dizzying, but it was clear that Kirkash had the upper hand. The Gnoll bore down on the cloaked figure, setting the pace of the dual wielders' fight. Blades of steel and shadow flew through intricate patterns as the cloaked figure defended and Kirkash lashed out, scoring minor cuts every few strikes.

Vlad had already turned, his fur covered arms pumping as he rushed back to the fighters.

A shout of pain drew Glade‘s attention back to the sword fight, causing him to wince. The cloaked figure had morphed his shadow blades to wrap around Kirkash’s swords, but in doing so had left himself exposed.

Kirkash, seeing the trap for what it was, drove forward, shoving the tips of his swords into the cloaked man’s gut. From where he stood, Glade didn’t think the blades had gone in too far, but it was clear that Vlad’s companion was out of the fight.

“That was absolutely brilliant!” Cirea screamed, grabbing Glade and shaking him.

“Brilliant how?” Kedryn asked.

Glade ignored Cirea’s response, having seen the advantage the cloaked figure had gained by his risky maneuver. Already, Kirkash was trying, and failing, to pull his swords free from the shadow caster’s trap. It was hard to make out from this angle, but it was apparent the mage’s magic that had wrapped around the Gnoll’s swords were keeping them in place.

Seeing he wasn’t going to free his blades in time, Kirkash abandoned them, throwing himself to the side just in time to avoid Vlad’s charge.

The fighters slowed down, both panting heavily as they sized the other up.

“My friend, are you alive?” Glade heard Vlad call out over the crowd to the cloaked figure.

If there was a response, Glade couldn’t hear it, but he did see Riya out of the corner of his eye. She was wide eyed and furious. It was then he realized that she must know who that cloaked figure was.

“Then we finish this quickly,” Vlad’s voice carried across the arena. With a roar, he charged at the unarmed Kirkash, who roared a response and met him head on, his fists flying in a blur as he tried to overwhelm Vlad with a flurry of punches.

Glade’s racing heart calmed. From the moment Kirkash threw his first strike it was evident that the Gnoll was not a hand to hand expert. Not like Vlad.

“I wonder what style of martial combat the Arsus follows,” Cirea said, watching wide eyed as Vlad broke through the flurry of blows with his larger body and grabbed hold of the Gnoll’s arm.

“Vlad was trained in a style called Systema,” Glade found himself explaining. “It's one of the more adaptive martial styles that is designed to take advantage of your opponent's momentum.”

With a firm grasp of Kirkash’s arm, Vlad twisted at the waist, throwing the Gnoll over his shoulder like a rag doll, all while keeping hold of the arm.

“One of Systema’s biggest advantages is that it can easily manipulate an overly aggressive opponent. Now that Vlad has control of his arm, he’ll apply pressure on the joints…”

Vlad twisted the Gnoll’s arm.

“... and permanently disable him.”

There was a loud crack as Vlad used the weight of his body to collapse the Gnoll’s elbow and dislocate his shoulder.

There was a loud crack before Kirkash shrieked in pain, his arm folding in at an awkward angle.

“Stupid dog!” Vlad growled, kicking Kirkash into the arena wall. “That is for trying to kill a friend!”

The crowd screamed wildly as Vlad shifted back to normal, carefully helping the cloaked figure by applying pressure to the two wounds.

“THEY HAVE DONE IT!” The announcer cried out. “AGAINST ALL ODDS, THE RUSSKI SOLDAT AND HIS TREELESS COMPANION, SHADOW STRIKER, HAVE WON THEIR EIGHTH DUAL!”

“That was bloody brilliant!” Cirea was cheering.

“Isn’t someone going to heal them?” Riya asked, her face a mask of fury.

“Look! The healers are on their way,” Kedryn called, pointing to where several men in red shirts ran toward the downed fighters.

Glade watched as potions were administered. The Gnolls, both of whom were unconscious, were carried from the arena on stretchers.

There were more cheers and celebrations, but after a few minutes the crowds died down and Glade watched as his friend was led away into one of the side tunnels.

After a few minutes where he tried to think of what to do next, Glade pulled Cirea away from the others.

“I need to see my friend,” he explained when she asked what he needed. “Can you arrange it?”

“Not likely,” Cirea replied with a shake of her head. “They’ll be limiting any and all access to him and that Treeless for the foreseeable future.”

“Why's that?” he asked, confused.

“He’s not just a slave anymore. He’s a slave that has won his house the right to enter the labyrinth. They’ll be putting him back on the lists to start another climb. I’ve seen it before. They will take advantage of his unknown fighting style and abilities before the other houses can come up with a way to counter him,” she explained. “If all goes well, he and that Treeless will win them additional access rights as they move up the rankings.”

“I take it house…” Glade faltered, not remembering the name of whoever had imprisoned his friend.

“Lensher,” Cirea supplied for him.

“Yes, house Lensher. I take it they won’t be interested in selling them?” Gade asked, his mood darkening.

“Not likely,” Cirea snorted. “I doubt you could come up with even a tenth of what house Lensher would ask for. Not that they’d even consider a bid from a nobody like you. The only people in Asylum with enough pull like that would either be the Elvish Ambassador or Helmund.”

Glade didn’t hesitate, turning from Cirea and heading toward the exit.

“Where are you going?” Cirea called after him. “There’s another fight coming up!”

“I’m going to see Helmund about buying some slaves,” Gade growled.