Eight Long Years.
It had been eight years since I was caught by a slaver group, as well as promptly sold. After all, almost no Minks left their homeland from what I had gathered, thus a Human-Mink Hybrid was so unheard of that I probably am the only one currently alive. That made me Exotic, which meant Valuable for Slavers. Prized and Rare enough to be a High-Quality Trophy for Saint Jalmack.
I could have had a cozy life, if I hadn't been utterly rebellious to those shit stains. While being a child didn’t mean that I was spared the cruelty that a human is able to conjure, I didn’t get the full brunt of the brutality of being a slave to Celestial Dragon, at least not at the start. Originally, Jalmack didn’t want me to be marred besides having the Brand of the ‘The Hoof of the Soaring Dragon’, then I to messed up the first attempt to mark me, resulting in a burn that looked more like a beast tried to maul my back with scorching claws.
This set the tone of my relationship with the World Nobles.
My Physical Constitution and Mental Fortitude made sure I survived my stubbornness, and my Regeneration’s potency also became a sign of my Defiance. After all, I had ‘Perfect Healing’, so even the Brand would eventually fade from my skin in a week or so.
All of this came at the cost of Jalmack and his helpers being ever more…insistent…with their attempts of breaking me. It even became a sort of ritual for that asshole to Brand once a week, as well, trying to make it stick in my psyche even if it couldn’t stick in my skin. A couple of times the bastard and his ‘retinue’ thought I broke because I became completely unresponsive, even when they ‘poked’ with different tools. This made them let down their guard, which I then would make their plans blowup. In response, they crack down on me even harder.
Eventually, Jalmack got fed up with me, and threw me into the stadium that the Celestial Dragons had for Gladiatorial Style battles when I was nine years old to die, trying to make use of me in at least one way.
Gladiators, real Gladiators, were brutal.
A Gladiator could enjoy a variety of privileges based on how long they kept winning. So, none ever backed down from brutalizing or killing Newcomers in the best way that pleased the spectators. None of them really deserved mercy because their 'Owners' exercised None, and the Gladiators followed the lead of their Patrons.
I learned that the first time. The one of the reasons why I won the fight that was meant to be my death was because I was underestimated. Even if I looked healthy and shockingly free of scars, grime, or other marks of having been a slave for four years, I was still a nine year old brat. A big brat a bit above five feet, but I had no bearings of a Warrior or signs of having combat training, even when I had various Martial Arts Styles eternally carved into my soul. Under the direct care of Jalmack, I wasn't able to physically exercise, the only thing I could do was go through the Mentat training, which I was half done by then.
That was the other reason why I won, being midway to a Space Age Biological Supercomputer. With that, I was able to calculate right down to the centi-second the best moment to lunge between the kicks my opponent was giving me to tear out his throat with my fangs.
Jalmack was happy that he finally found a proper use for me, so made a permanent member of the Blood Arena, adding me to the ‘Dead Walker’ roster to boot.
It had been over four years since my first kill, and the start of me becoming the Undying Gladiator.
*Spellblade*
A rumble born from hundreds of throats broke me from my contemplation.
I raised my head, and looked at the Portcullis in front of me, sound and light spilling through it.
The frown that wore was wiped away by another roar of the frenzied crowd. Regardless of what was going to happen, they would be entertained one way or another. I learned the consequences of being careless of that fact on my second fight.
As I walked closer to the gate, I ignored the noises that the announcer made easily and made sure I was expressionless. A benefit and necessity born from experience, to ignore that Blow Hard and make use of one of my Flaws.
When I stood just behind the Portcullis, I was able to see my opponents for this fight that had been pushed out into the Arena, just outside their own gate.
It was a trio of girls. Their faces made it clear that they were young teens, even if they were taller than normal like me. They wore rags and were slightly filthy, along with the fact they didn’t have any obvious wounds or scars, marking them as a variant of leisure slaves.
Given that they were facing me, their owner’s attempt to take them to the next level of such a type of slave either went badly, the girls ‘objected strongly’, or they became too ‘perilous’ to handle. Regardless of the cause, they had been shoved into the meat grinder that was the Blood Arena, one of the places where slaves were explicitly sent to die.
Not to discount that their owner sent them because he believed that they would win against me, since the ‘Celestial’ Bastards rarely thought things wouldn’t go the way they wanted, even when the sky was falling on their heads.
It was one the reasons why Jalmack left me here, I kept winning. Besides the ‘prestige’ it gave him, other Celestial Dragons would send their slaves to kill me to win a bet they made against Jalmack. That was the reason for my second fight, and my lesson on why my opponents had to die, or ‘die’. After years of victories, most had wise-up that I wasn’t going to lose and stopped losing shit, but some still tried their luck when they got a slave that had eaten a particular Devil Fruit, or were force fed one.
After all, no one that fought in the stadium showed that they could use Haki. That was a one ticket trip to being a ‘sparring’ partner for one of the God’s Knights, and eventually the Guards to die if they ‘survived’ long enough after the Knights broke them.
I refocused as the Blow Hard stopped braying, then the gate in front of me made a grinding sound as it rose. When I stepped out, the crowd started to boo me. Truly, those sounds made me feel nice and warm, even better because since I never broke the ‘rules’ of the stadium, the owner of the Blood Arena did not give a shit about me not dying, since it would make my eventual death all that more satisfying for him and the crowd.
I kept my stare front and center though, never lifting my eyes from my opponents. The smallest one looked the oldest, though she stood taller than me around six feet. She also had the longest hair, a long black mane that reached her waist. Her expression was fierce, though something nagged at the back of my head about her. On her left stood the youngest looking one, half a foot taller and with orange hair that was almost as long, reaching the lower part of her back. She didn’t look as fierce, but she did seem determined to win. On the other side stood the tallest of the girls, a wide but still pretty face frame with green hair that reached her mid back. Her expression tried to be fierce like the others, but it was marred by apprehension.
I didn’t blame them for having such hostile expressions, since I had deliberately cultivated a blood thirsty and brutal image among the slaves. One that was very convenient for me.
The sisters were unarmed, confirmation for me that all of them had some sort of Devil Fruit.
After all, only ‘Dead Walkers’ were forbidden from wielding weapons. Or anything that would grant them some sort of advantage. They could only wear their Sea Stone Shackles, ones that didn’t have any chains, since those could be used as weapons.
I eventually ended about 50 yards from the trio, in the center of the arena. The crowd quieted down as a tension started to fill the arena and the trio. They quietly conversed, forming and preparing their offensive.
Then the green haired one started to circle to my left, while the orange haired one went to my right. As they did, they started changing, transforming into snakes. I spared a quick glance at each as they grew larger and longer. I didn’t recognize the species, though the green haired one had a much longer neck, while the orange haired one had much broader shoulders. I kept both in my peripheral sight and senses, and focused on the black haired one.
It was for a reason that my instincts deem her the most dangerous one, and I was keen to deduce it as soon as possible so as not to be surprised by it. I did get an inkling of what it was. Part of me tried again and again to only focus my analysis of her on her beauty, telling me ‘simp’ for her as well. Thankfully, my Mentat and partial Bene Gesserit training made it fuck off each and every time it reared its two heads, both focusing me into making sure I won.
It was in one of these cycles that both snakes struck at me, going from zero to fast in a moment, starting another meaningless fight in the name of vanity.
*Spellblade*
Just as the snake girls reached me, I exploded in motion towards the black haired one. As I soared through the ground, my target quickly made a heart symbol with her hands, calling out, “Mero Mero Mellow!!”.
A series of Pink Hearts shot out her hands as a beam, too fast for me to evade my current trajectory without breaking something or seriously scraping myself with the gravel floor.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
I decided to tank the beam, putting my wrists forward to guard my face. After all, it couldn’t be worse than the Slow-Slow Beam. And I was right, as I felt the beam trying to use something from within me to do its magic, but I redouble my efforts to crush what her Fruit tried to induce in me.
The surprise expression on her face was mesmerizing for less than a second, but it didn’t stop me from bypassing her guard and punching her torso.
The twin shouts, “SISTER!!”, came from behind me, and too close for comfort. I quickly stopped my attacks and launched myself to the ground, rolling under the strikes the snakes were making.
My naked back didn’t appreciate rolling in gravel, some nicks stinging me with their new found presence which I easily ignored with ease of experience.
The two big snakes coiled around their wounded Sister, though it looked like my strike knocked the wind out of her rather than actually wounding her. From the look she threw at me, she didn’t appreciate it all the same.
“Why?!”, she roared, “Why didn’t you Petrify??!!”.
Ah, this definitely was a ‘bet’ fight. Meaning that they wouldn’t be fighting here at all if it wasn’t for me.
It also meant they are ‘valuable’, or at least their ‘Master’ would miss them when I won.
That put into perspective what my options were.
Now I knew what I could do with them. It was not going to be easy, but it was doable.
Observing all three, I began constructing how to take them down the quickest and ‘painless’ way possible.
The less time they spent being a show in the Field, the less the crowd would demand a public death.
With my Goal in my Heart and Mind, I started to run towards them. Not at full speed as before, but fast enough that they had to react instinctually. The obvious target was the Oldest Sister, as she was the ‘greatest’ threat since she could petrify things apparently. Her sisters focused on preventing me from reaching her.
Perfect.
With all the wacky genetics in this world, most would think me as a pure Human when they saw me, or what passed as Human in this world. But I was not just a Human, I was half Mink, which gave me incredibly sensitive and acute senses. Combining my Wolf Mink ancestry with my Human one meant I was way more aware of my surroundings than others realized.
Combined with the training I had been able to complete, I had near perfect awareness of what was going around me without Observation Haki, allowing me to plan rather than rely purely on instincts. It was this that allowed me to change targets in a fraction of a second, changing my trajectory fluidly to target the green haired snake. With one hop, I was able to hit the temple of her head with my Sea Stone Shackle, which dropped her. To her credit, she wasn’t out of the fight. That didn’t prevent her sisters from reacting, the black haired one jumping to kick me, while the orange haired one formed her hair into a snake to take a bite out of me.
I used my wrist shackles to block the kick, having learned not to let Devil Fruit users touch me at all if I could prevent it, while I threw my foot to the hair snake. By planting my feet on the snake, I used the force of the block to move closer to the orange haired girl, the speed surprising her, which let me hit both her temples, which did knock her out.
I quickly used the opportunity to somersault over the incapacitated snake girl, who was changing back to her human form, to avoid her furious sister.
When I was able to turn to face the trio, I saw the oldest sister stand guard over her fallen sisters, while her other sister cautiously coiled around the unconscious one, apparently not having fully recovered from my strike.
Looking at the crowd, I saw they were getting excited, hoping for even more violence, more blood.
Too bad for them I was going to end this.
I closed my eyes for a moment, concentrated on my breathing, and let my body be Possessed by a Spirit of War, which extracted its bloody and painful price in exchange for Power.
If my previous moments were momentarily explosively fast to the trio, then now I was a hurricane wind.
I closed the distance in less than an instant, and the black haired girl tried to set her guard to block my punch, but I was able to sidestep it, reaching her chin. Her head snapped back as she flew from my haymaker. She landed on top of her knocked out sister, while the other rose herself in order to protect her family. She was half way up when my back sidekick reached her temple, the shackle on my ankle leading the charge. This time, the green haired snake slipped into unconsciousness as well, joining her orange haired sister. As I confirmed that, I let the Spirit of War leave my body.
I then focused on the only conscious Sibling. It was apparent that the Oldest Sister was made of sterner stuff, or most likely took her elder sibling status seriously, from the murderous expression she was throwing at me as well that she was already in motion to attack me.
She lunged herself at me, no grace present on her desperate charge. Just about when she was about to reach me, I used my wrists to knock away her clawed hands. We collided, but I used the opportunity to bind her in a headlock as we rolled in the gravel of the Ground, making sure my Shackles were touching her skin. We eventually came to a stop a few yards away from her younger sisters, with me on top of her back, her head firmly gripped to the point that it would seem I was strangling her.
I took the only opportunity I had, leaning my head into her hair to make sure no one saw I was speaking to her.
“Listen to me very closely. You and your Sisters have been marked for a painful and humiliating Death. There’s only two ways for me to prevent that. But you must follow my lead for you to survive, otherwise, all of your blood, and your sisters’, will wet this accursed place.”
I felt her increasing her struggling, but she should have noticed that I was not fully choking her when I clearly could go all the way. She kept trying to buck me off her, long enough that I was going to start straggling for real when she stopped. I kept the ruse for a few more moments, making sure I sold the act. Then I let her go.
This was the make or break moment, either she listened or she died along with her family.
And she played dead. I nearly let out a sigh of relief, but the next moments were crucial for their survival.
I gripped the rags that covered her body, and tore them off leaving her naked, and then I turned her. When I saw her face, I noticed that her forehead was bleeding from a cut, blood dropping to cover her eyes, selling the fact that she was unconscious as her sisters. The crowd went wild at her nudity, the howling coming mainly from the men. The howling got a bit rougher when I started to drag the girl by her long hair, since it looked like a victory lap with a fabulous prize.
I reached the knocked-out sisters, tearing their rags off as well before putting them on my shoulders, which clued in the crowd that I was leaving, depriving them of their entertainment. The Blow Hard started braying again, never quite letting the act of me always ignoring what he said stop him from shouting his commands.
So that’s how I left the Arena with my new ‘victims’, with shrieking and booing on my back, two girls on my shoulders, and one that I dragged by her hair as gently as I could.
Another ‘successful’ fight. Now I just had to win their lives.
*Spellblade*
As I reached the end of the tunnel, I was met with a wall of spears. The Guards showing their discipline and undying loyalty to the Celestial Bastards.
I pulled the Elder Sister a bit more, the floor relatively smoother than before, so it only aggravated the scratches on her back, arms, and legs rather than add new ones. Once she was on the wall, I put her sisters next to her, with her in the middle.
The Captain of the Guard motioned me to move away from them, to the other side of the entrance, but I simply moved a few steps away from my ‘prizes’, which made him pinch his face.
He motioned for two of his lackeys to start the procedure. The men were slightly trembling as they approached me, Sea Stone chains in their hands.
I stood motionless as they chained me to the wall, before putting a Sea Stone collar with a chain. Both started to tug on that chain, pulling forward until the wall chains and my limbs grew taut. Only then did another pair approach the Sisters to fetter them as well to the wall in Sea Stone chains as well. They quailed under my sharp eyes, not putting a hand where it didn’t need to go. After all, the Guards knew I had a long memory that I always repaid with lives.
As the sisters were being restrained, the Captain approached me to smack me. It did nothing, not even moving my head. This made the Captain’s face grow even stormier, but before he could continue, Jalmack arrived. The Guards Knelt on one knee when they register his arrival, even the ones pulling my chain. This made the collar start choking me, due to the difference in height.
He looked pleased, not sparing a glance to the sisters, his gaze locked on me.
Good, a few more steps, and this would be over.
“So, another ‘stunning’ victory, Beast. Truly, having you here to show my superior sense of strategy was the best thing I could do with a wild and disgusting thing like you.”
Jalmack inspected me for a moment, but he focused on my back.
“Ah, truly, an unruly Beast that needs a constant lesson that he belongs beneath my Boot Heel. GUARDS!! Prepare him for the re-Branding!”
The Guards slightly shuddered at that. They knew what was coming.
“What You Waiting For!!! Get On With It!!!”, ‘Saint’ Jalmack roared, smacking the Guard Captain with his cane, one that he won in a ‘bet’.
The Captain moved, his eyes never leaving mine. I could taste his apprehension to approach me, especially after that smack, but he had no choice in the matter, since no one under the World Nobles was really free.
As he got closer, I prepared myself. When he stood right in front of me, I acted.
With the strength I could muster I pulled on the chain on my collar, momentarily dragging it forward to give some breathing room. I even was able to make it go around the Captain's head, letting me pull him forward into my zone, where I quickly clutched his throat, his Gorget meaningless in the face of my strength. As I strangled him, I heard the rest of the Guards scramble onto their feet and try to stab with their spears. At the same time, ‘Saint’ Jalmack did what I wanted him to do.
He pulled out an ornamented and gilded gun, pointing it at the Oldest Sister, who hadn’t moved since I left her on the wall, even when the Sea Stone Shackles and Chains were put on her and her sisters, screeching, “BEAST!!! Stop this at ONCE!!! You don't want to go hungry again, do you?!”
I took my sight of the increasingly frantic Captain to look at Jalmack, then at the Sisters, before letting go of my victim.
He desperately gasped for air on his knees, never looking up from the floor as he cried. The other Guards surged forward to retrieve him, with their spears still pointed at me.
“WELL?! CARRY ON?!!”, screamed the ‘esteemed’ ‘Saint’, too drunk on power to notice the smirk I directed at the Guards.
Eventually, they were prompted enough to try again, successfully rechaining me facing the wall, three Guards now pulling the collar chain, which had been moved to come out from the back of my neck. Once I was ‘secured’ one of the Guards gave a lit Iron to Jalmack, none of them brave enough to do it, and Jalmack was too drunk on power to think it was a dangerous preposition.
“Let this be a reminder who owns You!!! Where You Belong!!! Why Are You LESSER!!!”
“No, I am not. I know where I belong. And all you own is the chain you use to shackle me.” I calmly responded to Jalmack statements, undercutting all that he said. I slightly turned my head to look at Jalmack as I responded.
This simply made Jalmack press the Iron harder, trying to make me cry out. He eventually took the Branding Iron off, not satisfied with my none-reaction.
He turned to look at the Sisters, stating “Put them on the Cell in front of him. Let him see the food that he can never reach!!”
The Guards react a bit to that. Each and Every one really wanting to be done with this.
But I smile inside, since I got exactly what I needed.
*Spellblade*
Eventually, I ended up in my Cell in the bowels of the Blood Arena, the only ones in this level besides me being the Sisters.
They ended up in the Cell in front of me. Rarely did the Guards leave torches, but this time, they did to fulfill Jalmack’s instructions. The Guards left a few minutes ago, but I kept listening, making sure none were on the same level before I talked.
After nearly 20 minutes of silence, I spoke out, “Ok, all of them are gone. We have a day or two before they send someone down here.”
I open my eyes and look at the only Sister that was awake, the black haired one. She opened her eyes, looking conflicted. Fear, Anxiety, Anger, Hatred, Worry, and other emotions.
I looked straight in the eyes, the distance not mattering one bit, “Now then, let me tell you how I am getting you out of here.”