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Prideful Templar - LitRPG
Chapter 8 : Tilos vs Felwen

Chapter 8 : Tilos vs Felwen

Tilos wanted to scream, to vomit out his frustration. But he held it in, letting the boiling rage within him simmer. I am no slave, the thought repeated over and over. I am a Templar of the Church. "I overstepped and lost control." Tilos stepped back and sheathed his sword.

Felwen hissed, blowing out the breath he was holding. "You dare to strike my aid. Your sword could have killed him if I had not intervened." Felwen's rage grew, and Essence leaked out from his body.

Felwen's Essence felt like thousands of ants biting at Tilos' skin. Tilo took a step back, distancing himself from the aura. Someone stopped Tilos, placing hands around his shoulders. Tilos swiveled his head around, finding Mith with a frown on his face. The gladiator trainer had his huge hands wrapped around Tilos.

"Now you try to sneak away after what you did?" Felwen offered Creed a hand up, then turned back to Tilos. "You offer no apology. You don't even address me as master," Felwen shook his head.

Ralken came running up beside Tilos. He looked at Tilos and smiled. Then he turned to Felwen and bowed. "Master, allow me to teach this ignorant man a lesson. I will humble him, putting him in his proper place."

"No, he is too much for you. You already lost to him twice. A third would be embarrassing." Felwen said, placing a hand on Ralken's shoulder.

Ralken's smile disappeared, and his eyes sullen. His body quivered as if fighting to contain his emotions, "I understand, master."

"Don't be dejected yet," Felwen smiled at Tilos. "I will be the one to put this slave in his place. This dog of the Church."

Tilos smiled, "You want to fight me?"

"This will not be a fight. It will be a slaughter," Felwen said.

Tilos shook off Mith's hands, "What are the rules?"

"Only martial skill. I will not use any magic, talents, or graces." Felwen responded

"What happens if I win?" Tilos said as he circled Felwen. His mind at work enhancing his muscles and bone through Body Supremacy.

"I'll set you," Felwen pointed towards Tilos with his sword, then moved it towards the line of Gladiators. "And you friends free. But if I win, you'll be assigned Latrine duty."

"Fine by me," Tilos said.

Felwen turned to Mith, "The fight will start on your signal."

"This should be good," Mith smirked as he distanced himself from Tilos and Felwen.

Tilos glanced at Creed. The man was smiling as he stared at Tilos. Amusement and rage swirled around Creed's eyes. A black purple bruise had formed on Creed's left cheek, where Tilos's fist had landed.

Tilos turned his attention back to Felwen, resolved to take this fight more seriously than his fight with the other three gladiators.

"On my mark!" Mith yelled, raising his sword high into the air. Sunlight reflected off the metallic surface.

Tilos centered his mind, clearing out his emotions and thoughts. He then split his mind into three parts. One focused on his martial arts. The second on body supremacy, at work converting his blood into energy to enhance his physical capabilities. And the last focused on predicting Felwen's movements and attacks.

Felwen stood across from Tilos, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. He dropped low, holding out his sword in front of him.

"Fight!" Mith thrust his sword into the ground, spraying dirt into the air.

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Tilos exploded towards Felwen. His legs swiftly impacted the ground, accelerating him forward.

Felwen rushed forward at the same time as Tilos.

Tilos slashed down with his sword. His blade whistled as it cut throw the air.

Felwen block Tilos’ blade with his.

Tilos pushed aside Felwen's blade and punched Felwen in the stomach.

Felwen grunted and then dodged Tilos' fist flying towards his face. Felwen sent a kick toward Tilos.

Tilos blocked Felwen's kick with his free hand, his feet leaving groves within the dirt as he slid backward.

Tilos smiled. The master is no better than his gladiators at fighting, this will be easy, he thought.

Tilos charged in again, determined to finish this quickly. Tilos thrust his sword forward.

Felwen pivoted out of Tilos' attack, letting Tilos's sword go past. He then hooked his arm around Tilos' neck.

Tilos gagged and fell to the ground. He screamed as the cold blade of Felwen's blade sliced throw the flesh on his chest and stomach, the wound burning hot with pain.

"The fool let his ego get to his head," Felwen said as he flicked his blade. Tilos' blood flew off and landed on the ground.

"Excellent work, master," Creed came up and praised Felwen. A vicious smile blossomed across his face as he stared at Tilos on the ground.

Tilos got up, wincing at the pain the action caused to his injury. "I want a rematch."

Felwen paused, staring at Tilos, his eyes narrowing. "You have no right to demand nothing, slave. You lost, no excuses." Felwen then turned to Mith, "Make sure he reports to the latrines as soon as possible. I will be sending over someone to oversee his task."

"Yes, master," Mith bowed.

Felwen turned around and left the training fields, Creed following a step behind.

"Loris, take Tilos to the doctor. Then after he's healed, take him to the latrines and then report back here," Mith commanded.

---

"Hold still," Doctor Beli said as he drew a circle around the wound on the right side of Tilos' chest. The black chalk felt rough on Tilos' skin. He then drew the Sigils for Heal, Repair, and Human.

Doctor Beli stopped and looked Tilos in the eyes, "Do I have permission to use your blood to fuel the spell. It would be best if the Sacrifices came from something of you."

"You can," Tilos nodded.

Three Threads of the Weave appeared in front of Doctor Beli. The doctor then bound the Threads to the chalk sigils on Tilos' chest. He weaved, twisting and winding the threads into a spell Matrix. Essences flowed from the doctor's arms into the Matrix and then into the chalk on Tilos' chest. The Chalk and Matrix glowed green.

Tilos' chest began to itch, the wound knitting itself back together. He began to feel lightheaded as his blood was converted into tissue to seal his wound.

"All done," Doctor Beli released his hold on the Weave Threads, the spell Matrix fading. The Sygaldry on Tilos' chest lost its glowing green luster. The Essence burned to fuel the spell. "Do you feel lightheaded or anything? I tried to you as little of your blood as possible."

"I fine, doctor. Thanking you for your help." Tilos sat up from the medical bed.

"Are you all done with him, doctor?" Loris asked. He was leaning against a wall, staring at Tilos and Beli.

"Yes."

"Good, let's go, Tilos," Loris exited the doctor's office into the rest of the estate.

"Thank you again," Tilos said as he followed Loris. He waved at the smiling doctor as he closed the door on his way out.

Loris led Tilos through the estate to the latrines. A small structure made out of stone. The building did not have a roof, exposing the interior to the sun and open air. As they drew closer, a foul stench entered Tilos' nose. Tilos also notices five figures standing nearby. Four guards dressed in leather and chain mail and a familiar face. Creed, smiling with joy, as Tilos inched closer.

"Good luck," Loris patted Tilos on the back. He turned around and went back to the training fields.

"We meet again, my good friend," Creed spoke. "As you may have noticed, my bruise is gone. Doctor Veka did good work on my face. I can see that doctor Beli took care of that nasty cut on your chest and stomach."

"Let's just get on with the job," Tilos signed.

"In a rush to get to work. That's the type of attitude a slave should have. Always ready to work for their betters." Creed voiced hissed with pleasure.

Tilos' eyes twitched. Breathing in and then out, Tilos repeatedly squeezed his hands into fists and then released them.

Creed chuckled, "Give him his equipment."

One of the guards approached Tilos, dropping a bucket in front of him. A brown sponge was inside.

"You will first scrub the floors and walls. Then clean out the filth in the toilets. Lastly, you will drain the waste collection tank. After that, we will take you to the showers. So that you can clean yourself for your first match tonight."

Tilos' eyes brightened at the last part, "I will be fighting tonight? Where?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself. You still need to clean the latrines. Get to work!" Creed commanded.

Tilos squinted his eyes at the man. He stepped forward, staring down at Creed. Creed grinned, his face begging to be punched again.

The four guards approached, hands-on their half-drawn swords.

Tilos backed away and entered the Latrines. Shit and piss smeared the walls and floors of the building. Flies buzzed from one shit pile to the next. Tilos gagged, using his hand to plug his nose. He raced back outside into fresher air, the stench less intense outside.

Creed laughed upon seeing Tilos, "I'm going to enjoy this."