“Why do I get the feeling I don’t really have a choice…” I mumbled.

The Orc Lord burst into laughter. “Maw’ra the bold is not such a petty man! The choice is entirely yours to make. My interest has simply been piqued, that is all. I’d like to find out for myself why you haven’t shown all your cards yet,” he said.

What cards? Did he think I was concealing my power? I wanted to back away from him. The pressure emanating from his body was surreal; it felt as though I were chained to the ocean floor, a thousand tons crashing down on me. But I wouldn’t show my fear so easily.

“I’m not hiding anything,” I said. “What you saw in that fight was everything I’m capable of.”

“Lies!” Maw’ra roared. His voice didn’t carry any anger, it was just loud. Like that one kid from school that never learned what an indoor voice was. “You are a vampire! Never have I known a vampire to produce such a weak scent. It is not in your kinds….blood, to be so weak.” He chuckled at his own joke. “You make yourself out to be weak and show yourself in a land where your kind hasn’t been for centuries. There is more to you, and I will drag it out.”

I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off. “No more! Even if you were to spill all the answers to me now I would wish not to hear them. I will drag them from your ragged body after you’ve been broken and beaten. It is more fun that way.”

“My Lord!” one of the orcs that sat beside Maw’ra in the stands called. “You must not show interest in the challenger until the time of their trial. Indifference must be kept or—”

“I do not care! There are battles taking place before my very eyes and you expect me to stay in my seat and watch? Foolery! Choose, Vampire! Which of us will you do battle with?”

I looked back and forth between the five orcs that stood before me. Even with his insurance, I did not trust the Orc Lord. What ruler would proclaim his interest only to have it tossed aside for another? There would be repercussions for denying him his battle. But still, I could not win that fight…

Not that I believed I could beat the others, there was just room for error if the world favored me. There was the chance the sun would shine at the right moment, blinding them in the midst of our fight and letting me deal a killing blow. Staring at Maw’ra, feeling the magic that flowed within him, I knew there was no amount of error that could bridge the gap between us. His eyes could be gouged from their sockets and I still wouldn’t be able to touch him with a ten-foot pole.

My brain ran a mile a second. How was I getting out of this alive? I couldn’t win a fight but I had to fight before I could use words to do the fighting for me.

Unless…

I looked back and forth once more, focusing on the four champions and deciding. If I had to choose which I’d have the best chance of beating, it would most likely be Kal’ta the pale. As I said, the only way I could best one of them in combat was by sheer luck or by my opponent’s error; Kal’ta wielded a lance, a weapon that required far more precision than a set of clubs or a great sword. The champion with the bow could put distance between us, so even if he did mess up I wouldn’t be able to capitalize on it. That left Kal’ta.

But that wouldn’t be enough to save my neck

“Maw’ra the bold,” I said aloud. “I will do battle with you.” I raised my hand and pointed at Kal’ta. “But I will also be fighting him; I’ll fight the both of you.”

The crowd’s surprise was audible. Even the champions seemed taken back, but with dissatisfied eyes, the Lord looked down upon me. “What are you playing at, Vampire?” he asked.

“You wanted to know what I was hiding so I’m giving you an opportunity to find out.” I lifted my left hand and brought it to the front of my chest, igniting the sigil. “I will fight the both of you, but I will not be doing it alone. Allow me to enlist the help of one of my cellmates. A two-on-two fight. It will be a show of more than just raw strength but of team coordination and positioning as well. There should be no better test to our prowess in battle.”

I could feel my heart in my throat. The request was a shot in the dark, banking on the Lord’s clear obsession with fighting, and who knew how he’d react to the Sigil of Vision. Would it make him more inclined to accept my proposal, or would it destroy any desire he had of accepting it?

All I needed was for him to bite at the bait. If I was wrong in assuming he’d be controlled by his pride, I was as good as dead.

“The Vision…” he grumbled. His voice was like grinding bones. “Do you think the mark of a heretic scares me? What makes you think you can change the rules of our trials? It is one challenger, two fights. You wish to bring in another and turn the whole system on its head?”

I fought to bite back the words that ran down my tongue but couldn’t. “If I am to be so bold, does your interference in this battle not dishonor the rules of the trials as well?”

I fucked up.

“Insolence!” Ven’neer shouted. The red champion ran at me with his weapons drawn. The others drew theirs. Even the guards in the annexes had whips in hand and cudgels ready for beating.

If it wasn’t for the Orc Lord’s maniacal laughter my head would’ve met the dirt. “I am the bold one, scrunt!” he shouted. I could hear the jolly in his voice, like a frightening, hideous Santa Claus. “You can be courageous, or perhaps reckless, for not knowing when to speak your mind and when to kowtow, but only I am bold. Fine! I shall grant you this foolish request. You can choose one of your cellmates; condemn them to the same fate as yourself.”

“Thank you,” I said, resolute. But I wasn’t done. “It will be a fair match as long as I have another at my side. The spectators will have a true show of their ruler's battle prowess.”

“Fair?” Maw’ra said. He strode towards me, stopping just before my face and staring down from two feet above. “Even if you had every captive in this coliseum to fight for you there would be no fair.”

He growled the words, showing his first true signs of anger. It brought a cold sweat to my brow, but I couldn’t back down now. “Reckless. Your words are that of a fool’s. Go ahead, enlist your entire cell. I do not care if it is ten or twenty, you will fall all the same.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“You expect me to fight alongside a dozen people I’ve never spoken with? One other person I can manage, but I can’t fight unprepared with that many people.”

“So now he shows reserve. How much more do you wish to disgrace me? Three days! In three days' time you will enter this arena with your cellmates. Whether you are ready by then will be of no concern to me.”

The Orc Lord turned to the crowd and raised his arms high in the air. “My loyal citizens! I, your Lord, have prepared a spectacle this coliseum has never before seen. A grand battle will take place here, three days from now, matching the vampire and every other outsider in his cell against two of this city’s greatest warriors. Kal’ta the pale, and Maw’ra the bold! Are you not excited?” he roared.

The crowd roared back. Stomping and thundering with applause, they made the Orc Lord laugh in triumph.

“It will be a spectacle! These foolish outsiders make a mockery of our strength! Do you not wish to see them ground to dust?” he shouted back.

They responded in earnest.

“They will learn to fear us! We will instill it in them! Their journey to the grave will be one of regret!” He let out a ferocious roar that boosted the energy of everyone in the stadium. The cheering seemed as though it would never end.

Three days was more than I needed. If I couldn’t get the hell out of this place within that time, there would be no difference between dying in the arena and dying after the hourglass dropped its last grain of sand. I’m sorry, Maw’ra, but I had no intent on battling any of you.

A group of orcs escorted me back to my cell as the champions casted hate-filled eyes upon me, especially Kal’ta. If eyes could kill…

The thought of having to fight against someone not just stronger than me but also far better trained in the ways of combat was frightening. And that wasn’t even including the Lord.

I smacked my face with both hands as I entered the cell and breathed out. There should be no need to think about fighting them anyways if my plan was to break the hell out of here.

“I must say I am impressed,” the skeleton said as I entered. “You had the Lord eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“Many people have told me I have a way of getting under other peoples’ skin. I guess that makes you safe then, right?”

His eyes flared as if he smiled as he went to speak. He would have, had I not been laid flat against the ground. It all happened so fast. One second I spoke with the skeleton the next I had a fist in my face, thrown with emotion and the intention of killing me.

“You bastard,” the owner of the fist said. “What did you just do out there! Your entire cell? You’ve just condemned us to death! Any chance we had of surviving this god-forsaken shit show is gone because of you!”

He stood above me, anger controlling his face like it was a game. His features were cat-like: oval pupils, fur-covered skin, whiskers and tiny fangs—his tail thumped against the ground as he heaved.

Behind him were an array of other angered people. Four more of his kind stood behind him but there were others, too; a stubby, pale-skinned creature with eyes too big for its head and ears like antennas, two hulking men with four arms each, a lizard-looking thing, a woman with red skin and insectile features. I could name some of the species from novels and games but there were others I couldn’t.

“Wouldn't all of us have a better chance fighting together than individually? I doubt any of you could hope to match those champions. Even if you made it past your first round you’d ultimately fall to one of them,” I said as I came to my feet, lying. “At least this way we have a fighting chance. Sure, it’s the Lord, but the odds are still higher than if—”

The cat creature threw another punch and collided with my jaw. For fucks sake. He just wanted someone to take his anger out on. He knew he was going to die regardless, but at least this way he could shift the blame.

“If it was all of us against one of the champions, then sure! But not the Lord! You’ve screwed us!”

His little entourage behind him seemed to agree. I felt a flicker of bloodlust. After all the shit I’ve been through I now had to deal with the complaints of some in-denial cat beast?

I casted [Stone Arm] on my right and punched him across the jaw. His bone shattered beneath my fist, but the rage in me did not quell. I casted it to my left arm as well and drove my fist into his stomach, dropping him to his knees and making him vomit.

“You can’t even take hits like that but you think you would’ve stood a chance against one of the champions by yourself? Quit with the delusions. If anything, I gave you all a path to survival,” I said. The emotion in my words made even me believe that I said all of that to the Orc Lord so we could fight together.

“Shut your mouth!” the cat-man said. He jumped from the ground and threw a kick at my head, following through into a thrust from his other knee. I defended the attacks simply because I outpowered him but it was clear he was better trained.

We met fists and I realized that [Stone Arm] was slowing me down. It wasn’t apparent during my fight with the golems but here, against a faster opponent, it was made painfully clear. I missed my punch which opened me up to the cat's counter. He drove his claws into my stomach and pierced my skin, dragging his hand up my torso and tearing open my flesh.

Red hot pain flared from my stomach to my chest. I could feel small dribbles of blood leak out.

I had claws, too, but they were hidden behind these clunky rocks! When my fist collided with him, I felt a nice satisfactory crunch of his bones, but I wanted to tear his flesh as he did to mine.

He put distance between us and I closed it, swiping at him with my hands as if I were going to scratch him. I didn’t want to kill him, so I kept [Sharp Claw] at bay. He avoided my attacks but my onslaught made him unable to counter.

I swiped and swiped and swiped, my slow swings getting dodged over and over. This probably looked like a circus act to the others; even if I made contact with my swipes they wouldn’t hurt as much as when I punched him. It was more of a statement: ‘You would’ve been torn to pieces if my hands weren’t covered in stone.

I didn’t know what changed as I swung at him, but something in my mind told me I would get him. It whispered to me as if I were a child, a soothing voice ensuring me I’d hit.

And as I swiped for him, the rocks around my arm crumbled to dust, revealing this gray coating of stone that ran from the tips of my claws to my elbow. It was like an extra layer of skin on top of my own, not some thick gauntlet. My claws were coated in stone and deathly sharp. I received a booster mid-swing; with the rocks no longer holding me back, my arm accelerated and tore right across the cat's receding chest. My claws dug so deep I swore I felt the bone of his rib cage.

A painful screech filled the air as the cat-man dropped to the ground and clutched its leaking chest.

Skill Evolution: [Stone Arm] has evolved into [Stone Skin]. The skill description has been updated.

I stared at the notification screen with confused eyes as my opponent bled out in front of me. I didn’t notice it then, but I was more focused on this new revelation than the potential death of an innocent man.

“Skills can evolve?” I said out loud.