Leaving the dark hallway and stepping back onto the hot, dense sand took more courage than he thought he’d have considering his swift ends before, but the empty arena gave Zahn more confidence than he thought he’d get out of a silent sunset. Without a single fighter prancing around or beasts they’d been dancing with he could see the pits and splatters from defeated monsters earlier that day, and evidence of the webbing that had pinned a man to the wall. His own grave sat not far from the nearest end of the web trail, where the massive spider’s body had since been removed.

The lowbie leaned in to examine his grave and found the obelisk held the same words and displayed the same killer, that cruel Burnato. Touching the pyramid atop his spike he felt the stone crumble as if hollow and dissipate without giving him anything in return. So I guess that answers the bit about my stuff being in every grave. Turning in place to take in the evening sunlight shining over the edge of the west-side wall, he looked up at the sky to find clear blue air speckled with far-off clouds. I wonder if I have that robe up in the Tower? Or the physical copy of my Tome? He’d been wondering about why the massive magical book had been condensed into what seemed to be the magical equivalent to handheld reader when he could have almost used the original for a cot. Nothing in the admittedly limited chapters he’d broken into so far had even hinted about the organizing of magic books within Grimoires or outside of them and his only friendly source of information had most recently aided in his murder. No, don’t think about that.

Tracing the curve of the wall around to see the huge gate again, Zahn made his way alongside the sticky sandy web trail to approach the enormous wood and metal portal. Standing before doors so tall made him feel like a child again looking up at important church heavy doors whose metal ring handles stood so far out of reach. The black metal rings embedded into these barriers hung nearly eight feet tall and left the newbie reaching on his toes to try and grip the handles, before a popup flickered to life between him and the door.

You lack the required items to open: Gates of the Collisae

Required items: Champion’s Key

Scowling at the message he fell back to his feet and turned away, eyeing the battlefield and the walls decorated with doors around it. Not like getting the key dubbed ‘champion’ would be hard in a goddamn tournament pit. Please say someone already has it and it can be borrowed or the like. Kicking sand with bare feet immediately proved to be a stupid idea as a hidden rock stubbed his toe and the rough ground scraped against his foot. Hopping in place to keep his injury off the offending terrain, Zahn hugged the wall and ambled along to the first closed wooden door he reached which stood tall for a door but well within what he considered a ‘normal’ door.

Leaning against the warm wood, he nursed his foot and felt a vibration through his back that shook in short waves. After a pause in confusion he recognized the sound as laughter, and heard a voice raise beyond the door in some shouting answered by more than a handful of other men echoing or barking down one another. The cheerful roars were accompanied by the clatter and splash of cutlery and drinks that left Zahn pondering his empty stomach and when he last ate. Back in the Dungeon…

Standing on his suddenly less-painful foot the lowbie strode away from the cheerfully eating warriors and paused at each door he reached as he made a lap of the arena’s edge to listen at each door. Two wooden doors sat silent while the intricate metal western door sat cold and dark enough to discourage him to even lean against it to listen. Each occupied room seemed busy with a meal and the formerly open jail had its doors stuck wide open in the sand but its huge portcullis down and locked. Peering through the metal grid Zahn could see monsters and beasts in pens and grunting as they munched on whatever was in their troughs.

It was while making his way around the spider’s webbing towards the center that he was finally caught and the timing almost made him want to ask what took him so long.

“There you are! Just as promised!” The far-too-chipper killer Burnato approached from the open doors next to the metal ones, where bright hearth light outlined the muscular gladiator in an almost holy halo. “And you have indeed been delivered.”

“What took you so long?” So much for almost. “I even had time to make a lap of the ring this time. Were you enjoying dinner?” Zahn could feel his temper flare as his snark came out to play, and the grinning brute’s smirk fell a fraction as he listened to his punching bag talk back. “I can’t imagine what a big growing boy like you would even eat, you have just ridiculous body mass. Did you eat that spider or just the guy it webbed up?” Spouting whatever came to mind as the warrior approached was all he could think to do, as backing up while talking smack seemed to be a bad plan.

Burnato stopped within ten feet from the Player, finally no longer smiling. “I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk.” He flicked his wrist in a circle and summoned a thin straight blade from the air into his grip. “Let’s solve that.”

Before Zahn could duck the rapier flickered out and he felt a tug against his Adam's apple, pain spiked into his throat and he fell backwards clutching at his neck. Blood spurted from beneath his fingers as the flat-faced bodybuilder stared down at his prey without blinking an eye.

-116 Health. Gladiator Burnato used Focused Slice!

You are bleeding!

You cannot speak!

The Player gurgled incoherently at the messages as they disappeared, flinching as blood gushed out and the hulking shadow leaned close to hold out his flat hand. Sitting on a bloody palm was a thin stretch of skin and a wad of some kind of fleshy cotton. “See. You’re much better like this.”

The gladiator’s empty voice would have chilled with cold promise. Should have shaken him to his core, have rocked his cocky attitude down a peg or two. Instead the dying Player had choked his last just before understanding the wad of his own vocal cords being held on display and the intended threat was only muttered to a mute gravestone.

“Aw, damn.”

Coughing violently on his return, Zahn found the almost clear air of his respawn chamber breathable and body intact despite his most recent return from the dark side of the altar. Breathing with a hand clasped around his throat while staring up at an unfocused popup window may sound like it grew old fast, but only the dryness of his eyes demanding he finally blink was able to break the fugue state he fell into. Why did I do that? Thinking back to the confrontation he couldn’t puzzle why he’d deliberately angered the giant. What did pissing him off get me? What, ‘Oh he’ll just kill me anyways what could it matter?’ Not exactly a thought-out plan, that.

The usual return popup remained above him patiently waiting to be dismissed, which he granted after recognizing he was down another level to seven. Must put me at seven-half, and another death would make it low seven. The death after that down to six, and after that. Gotta be something after that. Sitting up Zahn glanced at the time to see that night had finally fallen and the chill he felt may not have just been his reception.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Sliding off the thick stone slab he jumped to his feet and noticed the ache from his formerly fatal wounds had already faded and he felt as refreshed as if he’d just slept a solid night. Each respawn took its toll on him with violence and stealing his progress but his body seemed almost energized by the process. I don’t even feel hungry anymore. Walking quietly out the curved path towards doom came to a wide dark ring of space speckled with glittering white pinpricks far above.

The hot sand from the day sat cool and welcoming to bare feet and made him think of coastal shores in an old world. Zahn could clearly see his own grave standing upright alone on the sand and stone floor with all remaining evidence of combat somehow cleared away. Walking slowly to the middle felt like deliberately showing one’s back to a sniper but nothing stirred when the Player retrieved his gravestone and the lack of items it carried. In the dark of night the stone seemed to simply vanish and left a vague sense of warmth leaving to let cold wind blow.

Zahn shivered against the night air and spun on his heel to quickly survey the closed doors when something occurred to him. The lack of sun’s warm rays had him starting to quake but the impression of turning like the gladiator echoed as an unwilling thought until he acknowledged it. I can probably do that move. Right? Briskly rubbing his arms against each other he stepped wide into a mimicry of the fighter’s stance against the spider that morning. He held his right hand out wide to grip an imaginary sword and pictured a great big beastie rearing up before him.

Without the lowbie knowing, he began to channel mana into his little-used Psychic school of magic. Trying to bring up the memory of exact events while standing in the same place let him tap into the very temporary history of shared memory, as dreamed by the warrior and seen by many sentients in the area. Zahn felt the cold air on his forehead and did his best to ignore the chill as his body funneled mana through the appropriate channel up his back and sent the energy into his dormant third eye behind his brow. From outside his body the shape of a stylized partially open eye appeared vertically on his forehead, glowing purple and giving off little light from the circle in the middle and almond-shape outline surrounding it.

In the eyes of the Player, a memory of seeing an attacking spider from earlier that day shimmered and began to take form over the span of a few seconds less than five feet away. As he gawked at the glow in midair a vague idea of a spider manifested into a photorealistic copy of the enlarged arachnid in full swing, spitting and lunging towards him.

Squawking a war cry of his own the lowbie finished his original attempt and spun on his heel, dragging his empty hand through the air and felt two distinct pulls against a grip he wasn’t holding a moment ago and hearing a whistling squeal come from something far too close to his own personal space. Opening eyes he didn’t remember squeezing shut showed Zahn the translucent shape of the spider had lost two holographic legs to the magic copy of a sword so boldly held in his right hand, a sight that distracted him long enough to not even try and follow up on his attack.

Just like in the events earlier that day, the spider chased his foe around itself in a circle and the waving legs smacked the dazed lowbie in a solid blow across his torso to send him flying. Zahn dropped the weapon and tumbled, rolling in the cold sand to spit and shake his head. Looking back incredulously at the projection, he found the great monster spider aiming its spiked rear at him for a solid two seconds before the dots connected.

“Fuck! Nope!” The hologram shimmered in purple light before a see-through rope of sticky webbing launched out the backside and captured the Player as he struggled to all fours and tried to get clear. Wrapping his pelvis and yanking him clear off the ground Zahn found himself seeing the beast continue to fight against nothing and lose as he smashed into the far wall and held there.

Reality spun and shook, the ringing in his ears matching the ripples of purple light coming off the only shape in the darkness. Black canvas stretching in every direction, to the far right sat a window into a world of spilled salt and dancing cotton stained with dirt. When time and space pulled their toll and dragged life back to the left the world was dark and pitted, its canvas rough and crumpled against the eternal march of endless tides. The only thing keeping the encroach of dark waves towards the bright land of salt and promise remained the ever, the eternal. The bright majestic mass of light, far too bright to see directly, far too grand to behold by one’s own self. Truly, the only perfection in this dark world--

Your debuff Concussion has been removed.

Zahn’s eyes finally focused and a wave of vertigo insisted he empty his empty stomach to which he obliged. “Aww. Fuck. Aww, why?” Pinned to the dark stone wall of the arena by fake spider web, the lowbie found himself dangling sideways against the curved bricks with his left arm dangling towards the ground and covered in an unfortunate amount of sick. The web in question remained snug around his midriff and glowing slightly on its own a purple shimmer that made him remember something about a dream with a purple god he didn’t remember having. Looking back along the string of web he found its source in a glowing ghostly spider corpse sitting in the same spot as that noon.

Feeling blood pool in his head he tried to wiggle free and push against the wall but the thick corded webbing remained solid. He foolishly tried to grab and rip it away from himself and smacked his face in the panic of pulling that hand free. With however many hours had passed since his capture the webbing had somehow lost its sticking ability and felt like silk rope under his fingers. Feeling around the edge of the construct to the wall, Zahn found something tacky holding onto the stone and his skin as if some kind of cement had been poured while he was out.

Looking around his HUD for anything at all he found the compass didn’t understand how to deal with him being horizontal and insisted north and south kept swapping places every few seconds. His mana bar was twitching at a level below full for no good reason, and the clock proudly claimed it was nearly four in the morning. Why the fuck do I keep missing time? And what am I casting?! Yelling questions in his head did nothing to help and he was debating the pros and cons of shouting and waking Burnato to ‘cut him free’ when noise reminded him of the outside world.

The wall near his head began to echo regularly with a thud he could feel through the rock, and voices began to rumble nearby. Zahn held his nose with his free hand to stop the whistling of imbalanced congestion and focused, breathing lightly and trying to pick out what various noises meant.

From the thuds came rumbles and groans, creaks of wood on metal and what sounded like something rattling in place. The clink of metal, perhaps chains, and someone laughing sounding tired. The thuds broke up into several repeated clops and the rattle of a harness, to which the Player figured out a wagon was here just as the huge doors did the same.

With a cracking and loud creak the too-tall doors groaned open inwards, slowly making way for what ended up being a procession of wagons and carts. Six whole carts covered in tarps and tied ropes trundled into the arena pulled by oxen and in one case engorged boars. The train almost drove over the spider web but pulled wide around the middle to drive towards the barred gates. By the time the humans directing wagons had navigated the spider corpse and trail, two broke off to walk up to the trapped Player.

Zahn couldn’t make out faces or details in the predawn light, but each stood bigger than he thought normal from his pinned position and neither seemed the least bit interested in helping him. Each warrior had too many shapes in their shadowy outlines to be wearing anything other than armor, and both men carried a two-handed weapon in unrealistic sizes.

“Dibs,” came a voice echoing behind a full helm from the one on the left holding a double headed battleaxe.

“Nah, he’s probably already spoken for,” was all his companion had to say as he hefted his war mallet. The head was blocky and square, weighing far too much for any man to wield comfortably in a fight.

“By who?” Protested the axe man. “Nobody left here has the balls.”

“You mistake courage and strength, Three.” Both men turned to face the new speaker, approaching from the direction of the animal pens. She carried a tall scythe and wore what looked like a cloth skirt to the badminton birdie, filled with layers of silks. Zahn couldn’t see her clearly from his webbing but she looked short enough to be normal sized while commanding silence from the extra-larges. “My oh my. How did a Player get caught up in all this mess. Dibs, if nobody else has.” Her voice carried a chuckle as she spoke, waving her weapon around. “Clean this up. I’m off to the office.”

Three grunted as he hefted his axe again. “I have a name,” came the growl that warhammer simply laughed at, stepping close. Zahn looked between them as he understood what ‘clean’ meant in his case and held out his hands placatingly.

“Come on, you don’t have to-”

His protest suddenly ended as the hammer too large to be wielded in combat made a full swing and crushed his torso, flattening his ribcage and all the organs it protected before sending him off to respawn once more.

Three grinned at the gravestone appearing in the wall behind the fading magic webs. “Have to? Boy, you got a lot to learn.”