Wake up!
Hanna jolted out of bed with a start.
Instinct’s voice was worried, urgent in her head.
Your students are in danger.
She rose, wiping the sleep out of her eyes, not bothering to put on other clothes over her shorts and t-shirt. Aside from putting on shoes the only thing she grabbed on her way out of her room was a longsword.
Her room had been converted from one of the stadium’s offices.
She moved quickly through the dark hallways, down stairs and into the bowels of the stadium where the so-called fodder lived.
Her instincts urged her on to move quicker.
What now? she thought.
They had just finished their last monster match.
Some of her students had died.
More than any expected had survived.
The talk amongst the stadium’s staff was that her surviving students had done it. They had exceeded all expectations as fodder and were in line to be picked up as gladiators, taken directly by one of the noble houses or by the king to join their forces.
A lucky fate, according to the slavers.
Tch…
The slaver kingdom wasn’t going to last beyond the next handful of days.
Their clock would run down to zero sometime during the king’s big party.
An iron tang stung her nose as she exited the stairs into the stadium’s lowest floor.
She found the source a little ways down the hallway.
A body was slumped against the wall. Red dripped down the man’s shirt, pooling in between his spread legs.
She approached cautiously, longsword held on guard in front of her.
She used the flat of her blade to lift the dead man’s chin.
His throat leaked from a smile sliced into his neck.
A very sharp blade from the looks of it.
She recognized the young man.
One of the stadium’s guards.
She continued down the corridor toward her students’ quarters. Her only company was the sound of her footsteps echoing off the plain concrete.
It wasn’t strange for the place to be mostly deserted. The hour was late.
The only people other than her students that would be down here were the slaver guards.
Could they be stupid enough to mess with her students?
No, she decided.
She had punished enough of them for trying in the past. Never mind the fact that several of her students had grown exponentially and had surpassed the basic guard.
Faster!
Her instincts screamed in the back of her mind.
She hurried to her students’ quarters.
The door had been replaced by iron bars some time ago.
A clear sign as any that this was a prison in all but name.
It remained locked and chained.
That wasn’t out of the norm.
What made the growing pit in Hanna’s stomach sink heavier was the three people trying to break free.
Deirdre, Sinclair and Bernard.
The leaders of her students.
They bore the marks of a fight on their faces.
The old woman’s right eye was closed, that side of her face was an ugly, swollen bruise.
Sinclair’s face was reddened with cuts across his brow and the bridge of his nose to complement the old puckered scars on both cheeks.
Bernard’s face was no better. One arm hung in a makeshift sling.
“C’mon, Deirdre, hurry!” Sinclair urged.
“I can’t get it hot enough,” the old woman’s replied in an anguished voice.
A small stream of flame poured from her finger into the large chain.
It glowed red, but looked to be a long way from being cut.
Bernard noticed Hanna. “Hanabi!”
“What’s going on?” she hissed.
“They took Lance and the girl, Basilisk,” Bernard said. “Alpha Sigma bastards!”
“They’re going to—” Sinclair let out a growl. “Jayden brought them in. They wanted people for some fun,” he spat.
“No, their leader, a one-eyed bastard wanted Basilisk specifically. I think he knew her and she him,” Bernard said.
Hanna realized instantly what it meant.
“Lance attacked. Then the rest of us jumped in. Or tried… guess we’re still weak,” Sinclair said flatly.
“As you can see, Hanabi, we failed our brother and sister,” Bernard said.
“They’re going to hurt them,” Deirdre wailed even as she poured everything she had into the flame at her fingertip.
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Ten… maybe fifteen minutes. They said they’re going to party up in one of the luxury boxes,” Bernard said.
“Stand back.”
The sword flashed.
The chains fell along with the lock.
The iron-barred door slowly swung open with a groan.
There was finality in that sound.
Send them to the armory. The way is clear of guards. The doors unlocked.
How did she know that? It was so clear in her mind.
Do your best to escape the city. Head north. Take the 75 East.
Yes, that was right.
She had forgotten that Rayna’s Rangers had set up a secret camp in that direction.
But… the plan? she thought.
Save your students, her instinct urged.
“Go to the armory, get armed, grab supplies and wait for me at the loading docks.”
“Hanabi—”
“There’s no time to explain. You can stay here or you can go. I can’t promise anything, but that I’ll do everything I can to take you out of the city,” she interrupted Bernard. “Oh… and grab me a set of armor and a shield.”
“But—”
She didn’t hear the rest of the old man’s words since she had taken off in a sprint back the way she had come.
You’re on your own.
----------------------------------------
Brett was full of regrets.
He cradled his broken arm as he watched Jeff menace the two fodder bitches they had just taken up to the luxury box suite.
The Team Alpha Sigma leader was going through his typical warm up before starting the fun. It was a part of the man’s class. Sadism in lust or lustful sadism?
Whatever.
Brett winced.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, bet he had to give the fodder some credit.
The slave bitches took their shots and landed them.
He got the worst of it, but most of his team bared injuries.
“I remember you, little bitch!” Jeff grabbed the girl’s shirt, lifting her up to his face. “Yeah,” he licked his lips, “I remember you,” he slapped her hard, drawing blood before throwing her back to the floor, “I remember you when I look in the mirror,” he traced the scar running down his ruined eye. “Hey, bros! This is the bitch that got one over on me!” he laughed.
“It’s like you’re twins,” Tony chuckled.
Brett raised his hand, but one of his other teammates struck first.
“Hey!” Tony scowled at the surprise slap to the back of his head.
“Shut up,” Brett said flatly.
“What’d I do—” the teenager quailed when he noticed Jeff glaring daggers at him.
“Listen up, you two little bitches are gonna be our guests of honor at this little party,” Jeff turned back to the girl and the young man seated on the luxurious couch. He gestured to the liquor they had taken out of the cabinets and placed on the table. “Don’t worry, you two, we won’t start right away. You got to start with the foreplay. Alpha Sigma!” he whooped.
The two dozen men whooped in response before rushing for the booze like a pack of rabid coyotes.
“Watch them!” Jeff snapped at Tony gesturing toward the two little fodder bitches. “They do shit and it’s on you.”
Brett waved his leader over to a corner.
“Bro, you got fucked up,” Jeff snorted.
“We need to hurry up with this,” he replied.
“The class gets what it wants,” Jeff shrugged.
“It’s gonna get us in trouble. Why are we doing this again? We should be looking for the fucks that got Chandler and Robert.”
Jeff thick brow furrowed. “Because I thought the girl that did this to my face was getting bent over and shit on everyday as a fuck slave. Not getting stronger and cheered while fighting in front of a million people. I’d rather suck a dick than let her become a gladiator. The fuck is wrong with you anyways? You’re the one that tracked her down and set this up. Did you switch your cock out for a pussy when I wasn’t watching, cause—”
“I thought we were just going to grab the girl and go. Not, grab an extra and fuck up a bunch of them. They’ve got a noble patron,” he hissed.
“This is more fun,” Jeff swept a hand to encompass the luxury box.
“That booze belongs to the stadium, which belongs to the king.”
“We’ve paid more than enough for their use, ain’t that right, Jayden?” Jeff raised his voice.
The stadium’s lead trainer and security man perked up at the sound of his name.
“Sup, bros,” Jayden approached with a couple of beers to hand over.
“You said it was cool, right?” Jeff grinned.
“Yeah, you’re paying, so it’s cool. Rich people party like this all the time. Can’t see why my bosses are gonna complain, so long as they get their cut,” Jayden said. “Thanks for letting us party with you guys. Alpha Sigma’s coming up. That’s what everyone says.”
“You’ve got some useful Skills, yeah?” Jeff said.
“Yeah?” Jayden shrugged.
“We’re always looking for new alpha badasses, right, Brett?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Brett grimaced. His arm throbbed. He made a mental note to recruit a couple of men with legitimate healing abilities.
“So, Jayden, no problems with this?” Jeff said.
“We’re good,” Jayden grinned. “Me and my boys can’t wait. These fodder bitches have been pains in our asses since they got here. Messing up the natural order of things. Thinking they’re worth anything more than being meat for monsters. You see Chad over there?” he pointed to a one armed man struggling to open a beer, “got it chopped right off just cause he wanted to have a little fun with that little one-eyed bitch.”
“Bro’s in good company, bitch got me too,” he nodded sympathetically, pointing to his ruined eye.
“That must be a crazy story… so, you did her face?”
“I’ll tell you all about it, c’mon,” Jeff threw arms around their shoulders to pull them into the party.
Brett winced.
“Fuck, bro, you should take care of that arm. Neal!” he whistled at the second noob.
The teenager put his beer on the table and hurried over.
“Get Brett a splint or a sling or something,” Jeff said.
Neal nodded, looked around, frowned.
The teen looked down at his shirt.
Brett could see him working through the problem as the teen dismissed that idea.
He was about to tell Neal to forget it when the teen’s eyes brightened.
He rushed over to the couch and unceremoniously ripped the girl’s shirt off.
That was how Brett got a sling for his arm.
It didn’t really help with the pain.
He sighed and downed a beer as he listened to the rowdy conversations filling the suite.
“Why’d you grab the guy? I thought you said you only wanted the bitch?” Jayden said.
“Bitch broke his arm,” Jeff gestured to Brett, “you don’t get away with that. You pay.”
“Yeah, but— and I don’t mean nothing— but, he’s a guy?” Jayden said.
“We aren’t fags,” Jeff chuckled. “He will be after we’re done with him.”
Jayden nodded.
“Don’t worry about it. If you ain’t into that, no judgments. The girl’s got three holes. Everyone’ll get a chance to wear them out,” Jeff laughed.
----------------------------------------
She fought them.
Kicking, punching, biting.
Their laughter filled her ears as their hands grasped, held and tore.
“And you fuckers thought I was fucking with you!” their leader laughed. “Told you she was stronger than she looked!”
Her scarred face… and a lost eye mirrored in the brutish man.
She had seen this moment in her nightmares.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Always knew that one day the man would be back to hurt her again.
“It’s more fun this way!” another man leered down.
She desperately tried to will the power in her eye to awaken.
She had used it up in a panic when the men had come to take her from her friends.
Friends that had fought for her, but proved too weak.
“Let her go! I’ll kill you all! Let her go!” Lance roared as he too fought desperately.
They had been so proud of their growth.
Of how many monster matches they had triumphed over.
Some dared to hope of a future other than one in collars or in a monster’s claws.
She never did.
Deep in the back of her mind she knew that one way or another her future led to this. It always did for those like her.
Small.
Weak.
Lance punched and kicked, but he too had spent his best Skills down in their quarters.
“Power Punch!”
Fist connected with jaw and crumpled Lance.
Weak.
“Shit. Why’d you knock him out for?”
“What?”
“Not fun when they’re not awake.”
“Eh… he can wait. Rather do the girl anyways.”
She screamed.
Her eye flashed.
Instinctively, she knew that a limit had been reached and broken.
The grasping hands weakened.
The laughter vanished.
Greater strength surged through her body.
She punched up into a man’s throat, causing him to sputter and choke, face turning purple, eyes bulging, mouth working like a fish out of water.
“Shit! She’s did—”
She jammed her thumb in another man’s eye, popping it like a grape.
The men sagged.
Their bodies suddenly heavy.
A weakness had seeped into them.
It was like blowing their muscles out after hours of lifting and running a marathon.
She screamed like a cornered beast, surging off the ground and leaping on the closest man.
Teeth bit into nose, leaving a gaping wound spurting blood.
She spat, but the iron tang remained.
“Jesus fuck!”
Another man tried to back away. He stumbled.
The filth had already taken his pants off.
That thing she hated flopped like a small, nubby worm between his legs.
She grabbed with all of her hatred and ripped.
The man screamed.
She shoved it in to shut him up.
“Do I have to everything myself?”
She half-turned.
The lights went out.
She blinked.
Stars.
Spinning.
She wanted to vomit.
A familiar one-eyed face leered over her.
“Nice try, but you’re still too weak,” he bent down to lick the tears running down her cheek. “I told you the last time that I own you. Forever. And you know what? I’m going to make it permanent. I’m gonna buy you so I can do you just how I want for the rest of your life. But that’s for tomorrow. Tonight? Tonight you be a good little slut and give my boys a good time, slave bitch!” he spat in her eye.
She snarled.
Writhing, twisting.
The strength was gone.
Strong hands held her wrists above her hand.
More hands pried her legs apart.
“I’ll kill you!”
“Listen, slut,” Jeff sighed. “You just had to make it harder for yourself. If you just did what you were supposed to from the beginning then none of this would’ve happened. Your eye? Face? Your little bitch friend? All of that cause you just didn’t let yourself enjoy it like a proper slut.”
“Kill!” she bellowed.
Hands eagerly tore at her remaining clothing.
She turned away from the leering faces over her and happened to see the suite door.
It seemed to rattle for an instant.
What?
A loud crash shook the room.
The door splintered—
No.
It was cut.
----------------------------------------
I Am The Sword.
Hanna cut the door to pieces without laying a blade or hand on it.
The force sprayed jagged wooden splinters into the luxury box.
Men in various states of undress screamed.
A man’s head splashed red across the window as she strode forward.
Red splashed her boots as she stepped over and thrust her sword into a man’s bare chest.
A Skill died on his lips a moment before he did.
She spotted Lance near a table filled with discarded bottles and cups.
The young man’s face was awash in blood and an ugly, dark mark marred one cheek.
Yet, he struggled to his feet, catching her eye.
“A Sliver of My Skill,” she murmured while kicking the headless man’s sword into Lance’s outstretched hand.
Mere seconds had passed.
“Kill her!” a vicious-looking warrior pointed.
Somehow, she knew the man.
Recognized him from the Gold Division tournament.
But the knowledge went deeper.
She regarded the ruined eye, the scar.
Saw its worse mirror on Basilisk’s face.
“You’re the one,” Hanna murmured.
“The one what? You’re gonna fucking pay for this,” Jeff, the Sadistic Warrior of Lust said.
Somehow, she knew his name and class.
“Orgasmic Chains!” a man with one arm in a sling pointed.
Glowing, pale red chains flew out of his outstretched hand to bind her limbs.
A familiar feeling welled up deep in her gut.
Disgusting.
She fought it.
Spells weren’t automatic.
They could be fought off with will alone depending on their nature.
Classes and comparative levels also mattered.
And was there anyone with a stronger will than her? With a higher level?
Two more men rushed her with weapons held high.
Poor technique.
“Brutal Charge!”
“Heavy Axe Chop!”
Other men fired guns or loosed arrows and bolts.
The charge would land home first as the man put on a burst of speed.
Hanna was a swordmaster close to Level 50.
What was the general rule of thumb again?
Oh, that’s right, it’d take ten Level 40 swordmasters to equal one of her.
How would a bunch of undisciplined warriors and fighters below 40 do?
Terribly.
She broke the mage’s foul magic with will alone.
A stop cut with her longsword, one the charging man ran into, split him from crown to crotch.
Gore splattered everything.
Her aura diced dozens of projectiles into nothing well before they got close to her.
The last man chopped into the floor, sinking his axe head deep.
She had shifted with exacting precision to avoid the axe’s arc.
A Quick Cut resulted in another beheaded man.
“Fireball!”
She cut the spell out of the air with plain steel.
Out of the corner of her eye Lance dueled with another sword-wielding man.
Her young student was wounded and spent, but her Skill lent him more than enough of her skill to give him a pronounced edge.
They traded cuts and parries until Lance baited the Alpha Sigma fighter into overextending.
A cut to the neck ended it.
“Wait!” the man with an arm in a sling raised his good hand.
“The fuck, Brett! Blast her!” Jeff snarled.
“Hold on! Just hold on!” he pleaded with Hanna. “There’s no reason to keep this going, yeah? Just, back off and you can take your people. We won’t bother you or them again. I swear. Just… stop before it gets out of hand.”
Hanna raised a brow.
“It’s too late for that, Brett!” Jeff snapped.
The odious man was right.
She had cut down several.
She intended to do so to all of them.
She took another step forward.
“What do you want? Money? Points? Anything you want,” Brett continued to plead.
“Fucking pussy! What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeff spat.
“She’s too strong for us!” Brett hissed.
“Fuck you! Kill the bitch!”
Violence resumed.
Hanna slowed her advance to cut the spells and projectiles out of the air.
Jeff had Basilisk dragged to him and he began to cut with a knife.
“Siphon Pain.”
The man’s face twisted with pleasure.
“Pain is Pleasure.”
He seemed to glow with dark and ugly power.
“Pleasure is Power.”
I Cut What I See.
Hanna’s blade rose and fell.
Jeff grunted.
Blood spurted from of his hand forcing him to drop his knife.
A shallower cut than expected.
Basilisk bit down on the arm around her neck.
The man held fast.
Hanna’s sliced her blade in a horizontal arc.
A red smile opened beneath the man’s chin.
Basilisk scrambled for the knife, fighting till the end.
Spells and smoke filled the luxury box.
Lance leapt over the couch, hacking a man to the floor.
“Power Strike!”
Jeff caught the blade.
A blow to the chest cracked Lance’s ribs and sent him flying back over the couch.
Basilisk found the knife and did as she was taught.
She stabbed up.
Jeff grunted, staring down at the small girl like a lion to a lamb. “Gonna give you more than the tip,” he sneered.
Hanna slashed.
A magic shield blocked it.
“Pay attention if you want to actually do this!” Brett snarled. “Forget the girl! We need to hit the woman with everything!”
So said, but utterly pointless.
Hanna’s aura remained strong. She had more than enough stamina.
Everything Alpha Sigma threw got cut to nothing.
“Nothing’s working!”
“How is she doing that!”
She backed them to the large windows overlooking the dirt field.
The same place where her students, like Basilisk and Lance, bled and died weekly.
There was no justice in the world that they suffered through all that and even when they triumphed against all odds evil men could take it all away on a whim to fulfill twisted desires.
One man had enough, he turned his gun on the windows and tried to leap out.
She laid his back open with a distant cut.
Brett shot orbs of ugly magic.
She cut them all out of the air.
The feel of the blade in her hand told her that it had been chipped.
Basilisk went down from Jeff’s backhand.
The girl pushed herself up off the floor.
Hanna saw the stirrings of something in Basilisk’s eye.
“Oh my god! What is that?” she pointed.
Most of the undisciplined scum actually followed her finger— right to Basilisk.
Her eye flashed.
Alpha Sigma sagged.
Weapons suddenly felt too heavy to lift.
“You, little slut!” Jeff grabbed a thick-bladed sword from the floor. “Keep the bitch busy, while I take care of this bitch!” he snapped.
Basilisk held the knife in front of her.
A tiny blade for a tiny girl against a mountain of a man with an equally large blade.
“Basilisk!” Hanna threw her longsword.
The girl caught it and parried a heavy, downward cut from Jeff while stepping to an angle.
It was a deflection meant to redirect the force rather than absorb it.
Even then Hanna saw the girl’s arms shake under the blow.
The fact that Basilisk had held on to her sword was a testament to a level of strength beyond what those thin arms appeared capable of.
Classes leveled.
Powers changed, evolved, became stronger.
Basilisk smoothly transitioned from parry to cut, slicing to the inside of Jeff’s elbow.
“Oh, you a sword fighter now? Barely a scratch,” he gave her a hungry grin. “Can you handle a Level 1 Skill? Power Strike!”
Basilisk was already dancing back off the line of attack.
The heavy blade shook the luxury box as it thunked deep into the floor.
Jeff ripped it forward, sending bits of flooring into Basilisk’s face.
The girl took an angle, pivoting past Jeff’s charge and slashing across the back of his leg.
Hanna could tell it was a shallow cut.
“Team Alpha Sigma Skill: Second Wind.”
Brett.
Reinvigorated, Alpha Sigma picked up their weapons and attacked.
“Thanks, bro!” Jeff laughed.
Brett sagged to one knee. He still managed to raise his good hand to Hanna. “Agony Wind Discs!” he toppled face first.
Hanna couldn’t easily cut these down.
A few slipped through.
She stumbled.
Pain flared.
Every nerve felt like fire.
“Dismembering Slash!”
She sliced the man’s hand’s off with a gesture.
“Double Thrust!”
Two in one.
The pain made it difficult to concentrate.
She parried the first, but was too slow with the second.
Fire in her shoulder.
The man’s triumphant grin vanished along with half his head.
She shoved the man’s body into the path of others.
One leapt over with cat-like agility, rolling and coming up in front of her. “Cunt Uppercut!” he aimed between her legs.
Her bladed aura split his fist down the middle, all the way to his elbow.
The next cut took his head.
The melee specialists were dead.
Only the ranged remained.
She advanced on them.
They tried to bail out the broken windows.
They were dead before they hit the floor.
That left—
Jeff had Basilisk in trouble.
He was using his size, strength and ability to ignore shallow cuts to pin her into a corner.
The man was so focused on the girl that he hadn’t realized that he was basically alone.
Basilisk deserved revenge, but Hanna wasn’t above cheating.
In an instant she carved dozens of cuts all over Jeff’s muscular body.
He roared and turned, maddened.
A steel blade came up between his legs, cutting his worst weapon.
Hanna used her aura again. This time slicing at tendons and ligaments in Jeff’s extremities.
What use was an empowered body when he couldn’t physically move it?
It didn’t look like his Skills included quick healing, so Hanna was content to leave him lying on the floor staring up into the ceiling lights.
She approached, picking up dropped weapons.
Basilisk stood near the wall, bloody sword steady in her hands. Eye balefully staring at Jeff.
Hanna took a spear and stabbed it into Jeff’s right arm, down into the floor. She took a sword to his left arm. Another through his right knee, followed by the left.
She looked at Basilisk. “I can’t tell you what to do. He hurt you. Only you can decide what you want to do.”
The girl’s face twisted with rage as she approached the fallen man.
“What the hell? You can’t do this to me! I’m Alpha Sigma!” Jeff wailed. “People like me don’t lose to people like you!”
Basilisk raised her sword.
Hanna turned away, moving toward the other side of the sprawling luxury box.
She heard them then.
She sliced the bathroom door to shreds.
Jayden, Chandler and a few other stadium guards and trainers cowered before her.
She cut them down before they could even beg for their lives.
Whether they were in a state of war or not, didn’t matter.
The men were eager participants in slavery.
They had benefited from and took pleasure in the systematic degradation and exploitation of others.
They were rapists and murderers.
They didn’t deserve the mercy of the quick death she had delivered.
Jeff’s death wasn’t as quick or as clean.
Basilisk’s hacked into him with steel over and over again.
Jeff couldn’t move.
The girl screamed with desperate rage.
The greatest monster of her life pleading words turned into gurgles as he choked on his own blood and bile.
Ironically, Jeff’s Skill kept him alive longer than he had any right to be.
The girl was blind and deaf to everything else.
In the end, Basilisk took her revenge.
Team Alpha Sigma ended with what was once a monster in human guise, turned into an unrecognizable mass of cut and pulped meat in a pool of dark blood.
“What about him?” Lance held a blade to Brett.
The man was still alive. Unconscious after overdoing his Skills and magic.
Hanna took the spear and stabbed him in the back, through the heart.
The longsword slipped from Basilisk’s hands. She fell to her knees and wailed. The kind that came from the deepest places of the soul. The kind that hurt more the longer one kept it down.
Hanna knelt down and embraced the girl.
Basilisk clung to her and bawled.
“We should probably go,” Lance said hesitantly.
“We will, in a bit,” she said.
“But—”
“Go to the armory if you want. The others are there. They’re supposed to wait for us at the loading docks.”
“The fight. They had to have heard all that.”
“I’m pretty sure that all the guards in this stadium are already dead.”
Hanna didn’t explain.
“I’ll watch the hallway,” Lance said.
Hanna simply held onto the girl as the girl did to her.
It was the only thing she could do.