Chapter 65
Klash! Klash! Klash!
Knowing that the sands in my hourglass are pouring out with every heartbeat and that losing here today will be almost as bad as getting killed. I really have no choice but to commit with everything I have.
Taking two steps forwards I spring into a leap, easily covering the distance between myself and the dueling pair. The intent is to land on Klash’s back so I can grab ahold of him and find somewhere important to bite down on. It works about as well as I can hope, though it would be fairer to call it colliding with the elephant cursed’s back.
I let out a gasp as pain explodes through my chest at the collision, my vision flashes white for a moment but I do grab a hold of Klash.
I cling to the huge boy, one arm around his neck, the other clutching his hair. For once in his life the sheer size of Klash actually works against him. The boy might easily have the strength to pluck me off of him like I might a flea, he can’t get his hands on me. At least he can’t do it one-handed whilst Xael is trying to run him through.
Wrapping my legs around him as best I can, I get to work bringing this monster down. Opening my jaws wide I clamp down on the side of his neck with force enough to shatter spears, and snap bones. Even Klash’s thick skin and ludicrous amount of muscle can’t fully protect him.
Within my mouth, I expect to taste the usual sickening spray of arterial blood, but only a slight trickle comes. I still hate this feeling more than I can easily describe. I can feel his heartbeats through his neck, I can feel the weird air pipe in his throat struggling more and more as I keep my bite force strong.
Sensing an opportunity Xael surges forwards behind a flurry of stabs and slashes. The dark-haired boy is covered in sweat and a little blood. I don’t know if it's fatigue or injury but his movements have lost something of their inhuman fluidity. He is still fast and graceful enough to make Klash bleed though. Especially right now, with my jaws clamped around the huge boy’s….whatever you call the part of the throat that the breath goes down.
While Xael does manage to slip a thrust under Klash’s ribs he doesn’t see the back handed slap the HighSail pitter counters with until its too late for even him to avoid it. I know the feeling, it’s always the strikes from outside your field of vision that get you in trouble.
The huge grey skinned handed smashes into Xael with enough force that I see a tooth fly out of the dark haired boy’s mouth as he is sent tumbling to the ground. After a few heartbeats it becomes clear Xael isn’t going to be getting up again soon, the boy is vaguely conscious, but the blow has clearly robbed him of his wits.
I want to go help him, I really do. This boy is one of the few people who have ever called me friend and meant it, one of the few people I have ever considered a friend or an equal. I don’t have a way to assist Xael though, so I do the only thing that makes sense. I keep biting and hope that this fucking mountain of flesh falls down.
I’m almost shocked when it starts to work, even having defeated him in the past Klash always seems so unassailable, like his sheer strength and durability will allow him to overcome anything that is throw at him.
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It isn’t true though, I can feel him weakening, I can feel his movements getting desperate, and his breaths not coming. I can taste more and more blood by the heartbeat. Realizing he can’t hit me properly with the axe he abandons my weapon and starts trying to get his hands on me.
Without Xael’s interference, he has a much easier time of it, but even so by the time he manages to get a hold of my face his prodigious strength is failing. Already the boy has fallen to his knees, and I don’t think he can breathe at all. Despite the fact that he is quickly losing the strength to fight back he sticks his fingers into my fucking mouth, scraping and scratching as he tries to find some way to create space between my jaws.
To my utter annoyance, he manages to find the gap where BloodRock himself knocked my tooth out during the beating he gave me after House Saffron cheated by not helping that kid whose armpit I had cut open.
‘It doesn’t matter’. I tell myself. Even having found the gap he barely has any real leverage, and his strength is fading so quickly that Klash doesn’t have a hope of challenging my bite right now.
Naturally it's just as I’m having these thoughts that things start to change. I hadn’t noticed until now but the fight has taken us close to the section of fans that support Klash and House Highsail. Above us in the stands are maybe hundreds of people cheering for Klash. They wear HighSail colours, and wave flags with drawings of him on it.
Right now this group is going berserk, as even they know the pit slave they support is about to lose, maybe about to die. I can clearly see a woman crying, crying! I can’t believe it and I never imagined the fans would care this much about a pitter who hasn’t even been in the city much in the last two years.
But care they do, they care so much a number of them link hands and start chanting.
“Klash!”
It’s just his name, nothing catchy or funny like the spectators sometimes chant.
“Klash!”
It seemed louder that time, deafening even. It doesn’t matter really, they can cheer all they want. No amount of fan support is going to remove my teeth from the boy’s neck.
“Klash!”
What was that? The other boy lets out a roar of effort, and I feel the muscles in his neck, hands, and arms begin to contort.
“Klash!”
I feel myself lifted back into the air as Klash gets his feet under himself again and starts to slowly stand!
“Klash!”
This is impossible, it almost seems like every time they chant his name the boy’s strength returns a little. I am even starting to struggle to keep my jaws locked shut. As awkward as the position is he manages to get his other hand onto my lower jaw.
“Klash!”
NO! This isn’t fair! Life doesn’t work like this, this is the dumb shit they tell you stories about. How some famed pitter couldn’t afford to lose, not with the crowd roaring his name. IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THIS!
“Klash!”
Apparently, it does, as with a final heave Klash forces my jaws open just enough that he manages to fling me forward and off of him. My jaw hurts and I fly through the air, my chest hurts a lot more when I hit the hard-packed sand and roll.
Spitting out some of his gross elephant boy blood, and more than a little of my own, I quickly get to all fours and then back to my feet. I rise with something I didn’t have when I hit the ground, other than more bruises and horrible pain where I am wounded of course.
The Itti’atti girl’s flamestick. I cant use it to shoot fire of course, but a metal pole is a fine weapon in the right hands.