Wolfe had his Fireborn Hellhound, an Angry Hellhound, Malviere’s Null card, and Cerberus’ Home for Wayward Hellhounds in his hand—and Cereboo off to the side.
For one of the few times in his life, Wolfe blanked, not having the exact tactic for the moment. It was clear that Gopal had suckered him into the battle before Wolfe knew what the arena did—but Wolfe was almost positive that Gopal didn’t know what Wolfe’s deck did either, or he wouldn’t have been so cocky.
Not having a better play, Wolfe threw Cereboo onto the field. A rat immediately attacked Cereboo, and the other arena rat chewed on the demonic hive rat that Gopal had summoned.
The announcer was commentating. “Gopal starts his overwhelming rat swarm as expected. No surprises there.”
Wolfe ignored that, instead running as fast as possible toward Gopal. If I can just get to him, I can beat his fat ass to death, especially if I get my damn mantle, which never shows up first.
“And now our challenger is running toward Gopal! What does Wolfe have in mind I wonder? I bet it’ll be exciting!”
He covered most of the distance when a thought struck him. Wait, he has that sacrifice card for a reason…
As Gopal reached for his card, Wolfe screamed “Dodge this, fat ass!” and held his hand out.
Gopal stopped reaching for his card and glanced up, then half-dived, half-fell behind one of the wooden crates, letting out a grunt as he hit the arena floor.
“Hah! That was a good one—Gopal takes a self-inflicted hit to his own belly!” the announcer cried out.
Wolfe tapped his own card, his intimidation trick having gained him back the precious seconds he lost when he had been stunned by the arena producing rats.
Wolfe tossed Cerberus’ Home for Wayward Hellhounds out. But unlike his last fight, he didn’t use it as cover, instead placing it to his side—he kept up his dead run at Gopal.
“Wow, what a play!” the announcer called, “This will give—”
Wolfe did his best to tune the announcer out as he neared his foe.
Gopal stood and tossed another card—a rat that appeared half brain, or perhaps a brain that had a rat head and legs coming off it.
Demonic Hive Rat Coordinator.
Rare Tier-1 Infernal/Beast[Rodent] Creature
1 Beast Power, 1 Infernal Power
Health: 12
Attack: 2
Defense: 5
Magical Attack: 0
Magical Defense: 5
Special: Every rodent on the field gets Swarm[Rodent]: This creature gains +1 to all stats for every other rodent on the field, regardless of owner.
Special: no Beast[rodents] will attack the Deckbearer or any Hive Rats.
“The vermin of the Infernal city of Dis, the famed Demonic Hive Rats, are nearly as dangerous as the demons that rule the city. And the coordinators rule their nests, second only to the great Brood Mothers.”
Well, that explains why he wanted to play in the rat arena. Now, since the card stops any rats from attacking him or his deck, it’ll be like the arena is summoning two extra rats per round on his side.
But Wolfe smiled—he had been right.
When the Demonic Hive Rat Coordinator came out, Gopal sacrificed his basic demonic Hive Rat. But Cerberus’ Home for Wayward Hellhounds meant that the sacrificed creature joined Wolfe instead. And the Home spit out a Lost Hellhound Puppy.
Suddenly, there were four arena rats that were neutral but effectively on Gopal’s side and Gopal’s Hive Coordinator against Cereboo, a Lost Hellhound Puppy, and Gopal’s own Demonic Hive Rat.
Gopal appeared a bit shaken, but glanced around. He must have figured that his tactic still worked as long as he kept the Hive Rat Coordinator—Wolfe couldn’t beat his effective three summons a round.
But Wolfe smiled viciously. Chump deckbearers that relied on money and tricks always forgot the first card that started on the field every time—themselves. And judging by how Gopal looked, ‘himself’ was a common, 1-power card.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Wolfe swiped his deck as he closed the last few feet, trusting his three creatures to survive long enough to keep him alive. That was all he really wanted. Before the thirty seconds were up, Wolfe reached Gopal, whose eyes were wide with fear as Wolfe leapt. He tackled the fat man to the ground. Gopal crunched as he hit, and the two of them went down, Wolfe on top and scrambling till he was half-straddling the fat man’s chest.
Brimstone didn’t show, but his Soul Hunter mantle did. It would be enough. Wolfe touched it, and the red energy flowed into him, giving him slight horns and very slightly scaled skin.
While Wolfe did that, Gopal managed to maintain enough of a sense of control to hit another card, summoning it, surprising Wolfe, who had expected him to fold instantly.
Another rat appeared, this one huge and bloated with children.
Grelka Ratbearer, Demonic Hive Rat Broodmother
Unique rare-equivalent, tier-4 equivalent Infernal/Beast creature
2 Infernal, 2 Beast power
Health: 50
Attack: 3
Defense: 10
Magical Attack: 0
Magical Defense: 10
Special: Every Hive Rat gains Swarm[Rodent], gaining +1 stat for every other rodent on the deckbearer’s side.
Special: Every round, a single creature from an opposing deckbearer’s deck is chosen randomly. That creature is ‘sacrificed’ as if sacrificed by the deckbearer that owns Grelka, and Grelka spawns a number of Demonic Hive Rats equal to the power of the sacrificed creature.
He didn’t think that through at all—he’s flustered from being attacked and just pulling randomly.
Wolfe’s cards couldn’t be sacrificed—and if they were considered sacrificed by Gopal, they would return to him anyway.
Wolfe struck down, as hard as he could, slamming his fist into Gopal’s face. His target’s cheekbone gave way beneath his demonically empowered blow, and teeth flew across the floor of the arena. The copper tang of blood filled Wolfe’s nostrils.
“Stoph, stoph!” Gopal cried out. “Pveave!”
Wolfe received a notification that three rats had died to his team, but that everything on his side except Cereboo had also died—and two more rats had joined.
But Wolfe ignored that.
He managed to grab the flailing Gopal’s hands and pin them above his head, to prevent the man from summoning more cards, and summoned an Angry Hellhound to give himself more time.
Gopal thrashed violently but couldn’t dislodge Wolfe, who started to slam short elbows into Gopal’s face, over and over.
Slam. His forehead split open, and something cracked.
“Stoph!” His thrashing became more panicked and animalistic.
Slam. Gopal’s jaw slewed sideways.
Gopal lay stunned for second, then wept with a half-sobbing noise. “Uh huh huh.”
He was barely resisting now, his thrashing minuscule. A shit stink had joined the copper tang in a miasma of gross odors.
Can he just surrender? Or is death the only way?
Wolfe took careful aim with his next demonically empowered elbow. “Time to die, prick.”
Slam. Wolfe felt his opponent’s skull cave in.
He noticed the experience—only about seventy-five percent of a level. Damn.
He glanced up, realizing that the arena was utterly quiet, no screams of the crowd, no announcer. He wiped blood from his face with a hand whose attached arm was dripping with blood.
He turned and glanced back at his dugout. He saw Shel staring at him, her eyes wide, her hand at her mouth. She hasn’t actually seen me kill many people. Hope this doesn’t upset her.
Then everything dissolved, and Wolfe was standing with his hand touching the glass screen he had started the fight with, but he was holding the Hunter’s Hunger card. The blood was gone, his wounds were gone—everything felt normal. But for the card in his hand, nothing might have happened.
Clive was staring at Wolfe with considering eyes. “Wow. That was… impressive. As well as impressively dark.”
Wolfe only cared about Shel’s opinion, and he glanced over at her. She smiled, tremulously.
“You okay?” Wolfe asked.
“Yeah. I knew what you did when we got together, and it’s good to be reminded. Not that some other recent activities didn’t remind me, but that was a visceral reminder of what is simultaneously the hottest and scariest thing about you.”
“Nice,” Clive drawled out, and Wolfe knew the man thought Shel was referring to sex as ‘recent activities.’”
But Wolfe knew it was last night’s fight, in which they had defeated two deckbearers together, Caine and Tracy. She was just being subtle.
Didn’t hurt his stock with the arena owner, though.
“Well, shall we head up and see about your deck?” Wolfe asked.
Shel nodded and took his hand, then kissed his ear. “I like that my man can beat up all the other men.”
Wolfe snorted, and the two walked up the stairs together.
When he reached the top, he found that Gopal had apparently started back early, as he was already back at the table.
Wolfe glanced at his opponent. He appeared unharmed—until Wolfe glanced at his eyes. Gopal’s eyes flickered side-to-side, as if already seeking escape from Wolfe. His face was pale as he stared at Wolfe.
Miriam and her crew were standing around, most of them staring at Wolfe with a mixture of respect and disgust—although Miriam had the same glazed look to her eyes that she had gotten after murdering werewolves, and Wolfe bet she was going to make some kind of comment about sex soon. Speaking of, the girl in the short black mini-skirt was still there, and she licked her lips as she stared at Wolfe as well.
He had forgotten about her for a moment, until her blatant staring brought him back.
Gopal was so shocked he didn’t even try and play dominance games. “I’m, um, going to go home early today. You, um, enjoy Tiffany.”
Wolfe almost laughed, remembering the girl from Drop Night. He was nearly positive this wasn’t the same person, but the outfit and demeanor might as well have been.
“Um… Wolfe?” Shel asked as Gopal waddled away, his gait unsteady.
“Yeah?”
She nodded to Tiffany. “What’s going on?”
Wolfe rolled his eyes. “Right. Girl, you’re free for the night.”
Tiffany frowned. “You didn’t want me?”
Wolfe chuckled and put his arm around Shel. “No, I just wanted that asshole to get blue balls as well.”
The girl frowned, but didn’t make more of it beside putting some sway into her hips as she walked off.
“A shame,” Miriam said, staring at her. “She would have been fun to play with.”
Then she turned her gaze to Wolfe. “You know—"
Wolfe held his free hand up. “No. Cards and levels. You flirting later.”
“You’re no fun, Wolfy, but okay. While you were absolutely brutalizing that waste of man-flesh that just left, Victor here did his thing. There is someone here with a connection to a lot of cards—and surprisingly, most of them are Divine cards.”
“Let’s go see them, then,” Wolfe said. “We can get Shel some new cards, and see what she can do in the Arena herself.”
Shel extricated herself from Wolfe’s hug, and nervously twirled her finger in her red hair. “Sure.”