Silas and Diog stepped into the arena, the roar of the crowd met them instantly and the sheer pressure exerted was like a physical force. The stone walls of the pit seemed to close in around them, vibrating with the combined energy of cheers, jeers, and the raw bloodlust of the spectators. The arena smelled of sweat, iron, and something worse, like burned skin or hair.
Silas tightened his grip on Diog.
This wasn’t some training match in the estate’s controlled environment. This was a crucible where lives were crushed and rebuilt, or snuffed out completely. He scanned the far gate, watching as his first opponent stepped forward.
The man across from Silas looked like he’d crawled out of a gutter. Greasy brown hair hung limp around a gaunt, narrow face, and he wore a tattered coat stained with substances Silas didn’t even want to identify.
He had a permanent sneer on his face from a cruel looking scar.
His eyes flicked over Silas dismissively, as if already imagining him on his knees, begging for mercy.
“Name’s Glenn,” the man called out, his voice rough with a thick accent that grated on Silas's nerves. He leaned forward, his grin widening to reveal a mouthful of rotting teeth. “And this little beauty here is Puck.”
A hulking, hunched shape skittered forward beside him, a Tunnel Rat, twice the size of an ordinary rat but twisted and monstrous. Its sinewy muscles bulged beneath a coat of bristly black fur, each movement fluid yet menacing. Red, beady eyes glared malevolently at Diog.
It was a threat.
Long, jagged teeth jutted from its snarling mouth, saliva dripping onto the sand below as it let out a low, feral hiss. The creature carried a rank, almost choking stench that clung to it, a noxious mix of sewer rot and something far fouler.
Silas swallowed hard and tried not to gag.
Diog remained steady.
He’d read about Tunnel Rats, vicious sewer beasts typically used by low-rankers and criminals. But seeing one up close was something entirely different. Puck’s claws gouged deep rivets into the arena’s sandy floor as it prowled forward, its gaze never leaving Diog.
Unlike some of the creatures he'd fought with the Grey Owl, this Tunnel Rat was a danger.
Glenn started to laugh.
"I can tell by that look on your face. First time, eh?" he taunted, "I'll make it memorable for ya!"
Silas’s grip tightened on Diog’s fur. The coarse feel of it grounded him, brought him back from the brink of panic. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus.
“This ain’t some training spar, boy,” Glenn spat, taking a step forward. “You ready to watch your mutt get torn to shreds?”
Silas felt a flare of anger at Glenn’s words, but he forced it down and locked eyes with Glenn.
“Diog’s no mutt,” Silas replied, his voice steady despite the tumult inside him. “And we’re ready.”
Glenn’s sneer deepened. “Big words for someone about to lose their first match.”
He glanced at Puck and snapped his fingers.
The Tunnel Rat responded instantly, its muscles bunching as it prepared to lunge.
Silas bent down to Diog’s level, speaking softly but urgently. “Remember what we practiced. Keep your distance and use your speed.”
Diog growled low in his throat, his icy blue eyes never leaving Puck.
The arena master raised a hand and the crowd fell silent.
Glenn just laughed. “We’ll see.” “Tamers!” the arena announcer boomed from above.
“Prepare your creatures for combat. Begin on my signal!” Silas crouched beside Diog, his heart pounding.
“Stay fast. Don’t let him get in close,” he murmured.
Diog’s ears twitched, his stance low and tense. “And don’t hesitate to bite back.”
Diog’s growled, his gaze locked on the Tunnel Rat.
Puck let out a shriek, lips pulling back to reveal its yellowed, razor-sharp teeth. The air buzzed with anticipation.
“Three!” the announcer began. Puck tensed, claws scraping against the ground. Glenn muttered something under his breath, his eyes gleaming.
“Two!” Silas felt every muscle in Diog’s small frame coil, a spring wound so tight it might snap.
“One!” The horn blasted, and the world erupted into chaos.
Puck shot forward, a blur of fur and claws, faster than Silas had anticipated, claws tearing through the sand as it closed the distance between them in an instant. Diog barely had time to twist aside as the Tunnel Rat’s teeth snapped shut inches from his throat.
The crowd roared, the bloodthirsty cries of the spectators deafening.
Silas’s felt a moment of panic.
With a burst of speed that left an icy trail behind him, Diog dodged to the side, just out of reach of Puck’s gnashing teeth. He circled around quickly, eyes sharp and calculating as he searched for an opening.
“Good boy,” Silas murmured under his breath, relief flooding through him as Diog executed their plan perfectly.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Glenn’s face twisted with frustration as he barked orders at Puck. “Don’t let that runt outmaneuver you! Attack!”
Puck spun around, pratically contoring in the air lunged again. But this time, Diog was ready with more than just speed.
He waited until the last possible second before springing upward, jaws snapping shut around Puck's exposed side with a crack as a rib buckled under the pressure.
The Tunnel Rat screeched in pain and fury, twisting violently to shake Diog off.
Diog clung on tenaciously before releasing and landing gracefully on all fours, ice crystals forming where his paws touched the ground.
Glenn's sneer wavered for just a moment before returning with doubled venom. “You’ll pay for that,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
But Silas saw the fear behind Glenn’s eyes now, saw that his opponent had underestimated them both.
Silas’s jaw tightened. “We came to win.” he replied, his voice firm.
“Puck! Use Rat King!” Glenn shouted, almost desperately.
Puck started to shudder and a faint outline of mana covered its body.
Silas barely had time to react. “Diog, dodge!” he yelled.
Diog ducked and spun, his movements swift but not swift enough. Puck was relentless, its claws slashing out in a vicious arc. The Tunnel Rat’s swipe connected with Diog’s side, tearing through fur and flesh. Diog yelped in pain, a splash of blood spraying onto the sand.
Silas’s stomach twisted. “Diog, get clear!” he shouted.
But Puck was already on him again, its jaws snapping and slavering. Diog scrambled back, desperately trying to put space between himself and the raging beast. Puck wouldn’t let up, barreling forward and ramming Diog against the arena wall.
“Gonna crush your mutt!” Glenn snarled. “Break ‘im open!”
“Diog!” Silas screamed.
But Diog didn’t go down.
Snarling fiercely, he sank his teeth into Puck’s shoulder, the familiar blue light of Frost Fang flaring brilliantly. There was a burst of cold, and Puck shrieked in agony, but it didn’t back off.
Instead, it twisted violently, its massive claws raking down Diog’s flank and leaving deep, ragged gashes. Blood splattered the ground, mingling with the frost spreading across Puck’s shoulder.
“Get off, Diog! Fall back!” Silas shouted.
Diog leapt away, stumbling slightly as his wounded side trembled under him. Puck staggered too; its left shoulder encased in a thick layer of frost. Even as it panted heavily with bloodshot eyes blazing, it still snarled.
“Tunnel Rats are tough bastards, kid,” Glenn sneered. “You think a little ice is gonna stop him?”
Puck lunged again..
Diog moved to dodge but wasn’t quick enough this time. Puck’s claws raked across his chest, knocking him to the ground. The crowd roared their approval—a deafening wall of noise.
“Tear him open!!” Glenn bellowed.
Puck reared up menacingly above Diog.
Diog twisted at the last second,Puck’s claws slammed into the sand where his head had been just moments before. The ground shook with the impact as dust billowed around them.
Diog’s eyes blazed despite his ragged breaths—he was hurt badly but still had fight left in him.
“Finish ‘im!” Glenn roared furiously from across the arena.
“Frost Fang!” Silas shouted.
Diog’s jaws snapped shut around Puck’s hind leg; icy blue light flaring brighter than ever before as frost spread rapidly up the Tunnel Rat’s limb, spreading out over its haunches until finally freezing solid with a sickening crack!
Puck howled loudly, thrashing violently against the sudden ice encasing its leg, but Diog didn’t let go until he wrenched his head violently sideways, shattering the frozen limb completely.
Puck screamed, a high-pitched wail as it collapsed onto its side, writhing helplessly while blood mixed with frost spilled out onto the sand beneath them both...
The crowd erupted into a frenzied roar, the sheer volume of their cheers and screams threatening to drown out every other sound.
Silas felt tightness grip his chest watching the scene unfold before him but couldn’t look away.
Diog stumbled back, panting hard, his own dark fur matted heavily by blood.
“Enough! Enough!” Glenn shrieked desperately from the other side of the arena, seeing the state Puck now lay in.
“Winner: Silas Beckham and Diog!” The announcer's voice called out, cutting off the roar of the crowd with magic. "Contestants, please take your leave. Silas and Diog, head to the Winner's Holding Area."
Silas exhaled deeply, feeling relief flood through his entire body. He ran quickly over to where Diog now stood shaking slightly still.
Kneeling beside Diog, Silas gently inspected his wounds. "You did it, buddy," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "You really did it."
Diog leaned into Silas’s touch, eyes half-closed in exhaustion.
From across the arena, Glenn glared at them with a mixture of fury and disbelief. He started to approach but stopped short when he saw Silas's steely gaze fixed on him.
"Take your beast and leave," Silas called out coldly. "This fight's over."
Glenn hesitated for a moment longer before retreating to tend to Puck. The Tunnel Rat lay whimpering and defeated, its icy wound glaring in contrast to the warm sand.
Silas turned back to Diog, wrapping an arm around him as they walked slowly towards the exit. The crowd’s cheers faded into background noise as he focused on getting Diog back to safety.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured again. “And we’re just getting started.”
----------------------------------------
System Notification:
Battle 1 of 5 Cleared - E Ranked Hexgear Cup - Victor: Diog vs. Puck
----------------------------------------
Silas staggered under Diog's weight as he carried the wounded wolf down a tunnel towards the Winner's Holding Area. Each step felt heavier, the adrenaline from the battle slowly ebbing away to reveal just how much the fight had taken out of him.
And how much more did it take out of Diog?
They walked past other tamers, summoners, and their monsters, some of whom gave them nods of acknowledgment or wary glances.
The holding area was quiet and cool, with a faint antiseptic smell that prickled at Silas's nose. He gently laid Diog on a soft, cushioned bench.
The wolf cub let out a small whimper but settled quickly, his eyes closing in exhaustion.
“Hang in there, buddy,” Silas murmured, rummaging through his bag for the healing salve Bonereghard had packed. His hands shook slightly as he opened the jar, revealing a thick, blue paste that smelled of mint and something metallic.
He scooped out a generous amount and began applying it to Diog’s wounds. The salve hissed on contact with Diog’s fur and skin, but it quickly absorbed, leaving behind only faint traces of the injuries.
Diog let out a soft sigh of relief, his body relaxing under Silas’s touch.
“Better?” Silas asked softly.
Diog’s tail thumped weakly against the bench in response.
Silas smiled and continued working. He knew they had to be ready for the next match; there was no room for error. He reached for a bowl of fresh water provided by the arena staff and set it in front of Diog.
“Drink up,” he said. “You need to stay hydrated.”
Diog lapped at the water eagerly while Silas pulled out some strips of dried meat from his pack. He offered one to Diog, who sniffed it before tearing into it with surprising vigor given his recent exertions.
As Diog ate, Silas took a moment to rest as well. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders once more.
Diog finished his meal and curled up on the bench beside him, looking much better already thanks to the salve and food. Silas scratched behind Diog’s ears.
“We did good,” he muttered. “But we’ve got more to do.”
Diog barked in agreement, resting his head on Silas’s lap as they waited for their next challenge.
A staff member popped his head into the small room where they were resting, a clipboard in hand and a look of mild impatience on his face. “You’re up again in 30 minutes."
Level Up!:
《System Status: Diog》
《Name: 《Diog》》
《Species: 《Fenrir (Mythic Rank)》》
《Form: 《Cub》》
《Level: 《2》》
《Experience: 《15/200》》
《Bond: 《Strong》》
《Abilities (Current Form):》
《Frost Fang (Basic): 《Gnaws at enemies, inflicting moderate frostbite.》》
《Howl of Ice (Dormant): 《A powerful ability locked until later forms.》》
《Stats:》
《Strength: 《6》 (+1)》
《Agility: 《8》 (+3)》
《Endurance: 《7》 (+2)》
《Intelligence: 《5》 (+1)》
《Mana Affinity: 《13》 (+2)》
《Growth Potential: 《Mythic (Final Form: Primordial Fenrir)》》