Arbor looked around and breathed in relief that Enthes had taken his offer and escaped with Raven and Zen in the commotion. And not a moment too soon, as immediately after, a horde of guards ran up the waterfelled stairs, cutting off their only path of escape by blocking the entrance to the stairwell.
“At-Tro-Pos!” Langsley yelled.
Ignoring his injuries, the knight charged at the arena master. He joint both his short spear at the base into a single long, double-sided pike. The corridor was straight, with no other direction to escape the clash. The pike was an anit-cavalry weapon on the open battlefield, but in the confines of a small interior path, it was a piercing bullet on a long stick, carefully aimed at fatal points on a body.
The omniknight had a lightspeed thrust which accuracy could pinpoint a single star in the sky. With a slight flick of his wrist, Langsley added a twist to his attack, pushing the spear downwards while giving a spin that forced the weapon to twist up, creating a distorted technique where the weapon aimed down, seemingly missing, but snaked back up and around towards its target. The light magic imbued in the spearhead drew a spiral in the shadowy space, keyholed to Atro's heart.
Calmly, Atro raised his hand and slapped at the air, as if waving away a fly, and Arbor watched as the ray of light shifted ever so slightly in its arc on its final feet before piercing the empty space next to Atro's face as if gently pushed away by the force of a breeze. He did not dodge nor parried the attack. Langsley was simply forced to miss. Atro caught the pike as it zipped past and Langsley nearly stumbled forward.
“Oh, you're powerful. Perhaps the most powerful man I've ever met. But there are those stronger than you, case in point.” Atro arrogantly motioned to himself.
“You piece of dirt!”
Atro's head turned to his side as if interacting with someone beside him. “Are you sure about this, Moira? I can only use it once.”
For a second, Arbor could have sworn he saw the flicker of a ghostly figure floating beside the sea elf. But before his interest could even be fully piqued, Ierba yanked the back half of his pike apart into two sets of short spears again. His left hand pulled, against the front spear still held by Atro and used the leverage to leap forward, the free spear held in reverse and aimed at the enemy's throat.
From below his cloak, Atro drew out a short, single-handed sawn-off shotgun and pointed it at the attacker. The next word uttered was a quiet whisper that echoed clear as a drop of water in a crystal cave. “Exseed.”
Langsley's body was blown back by the impact before the gunshot even reached Arbor's ears. The knight's leg was dragged forward by the momentum and flipped over his head as the body tumbled in mid jump, slamming violently into the ground from gravity and blood sprayed in wheel around the ragdoll's pivot.
“No!” Aramas rushed forward to help but Arbor, with superior speed, dashed past and intercepted, slashing violently at air to stop the advance before pointing his daggers at his former ally.
“Why are you doing this?” Aramas screamed.
Arbor monotonously replied, “There's no way we can win, not against his Soul Arm.”
The brawler gritted, “You didn't even try.”
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The dark elf bit back, “Let's be real. You're just angry I didn't try to die.”
From the stairwell the guards rushed in and surrounded Aramas's escape. The man analysed the situation and saw the lack of fight in the Arbor's eyes. The dark elf's attack were not even meant to hit, merely serving as taunt to stop his tracks. Already tired, the brawler had to conserve his strength and not fight unnecessarily. Deciding the greater threat was the mob behind, Aramas turned away from Arbor to fight the guards.
At the moment Aramas looked away, a flash of light zipped by Arbor and crashed into Aramas in a bright glow that blinded all in the corridor. But the time the glare subsided, Langsley stood behind Aramas, his arm through the latter's chest, his hand protruding out the other end with crushed and burnt chips of meat staining the red soaked knuckle. Blood flowed freely down the brawler's body, the flowing water below cutting off into two halves of clear blue and misted red. Aramas coughed bloodily once and his head lulled dead to the side. Langsley extracted his arm from his friend's corpse and let the body drop unceremoniously to the floor, the guards trembling back in fear at the sight.
Arbor stumbled back in shock, tripping over his own feet and slipping over the wet terrain, falling on his rear with a splash.
With slushing steps, Atro approached, gun limped casually at his side. “Well done, Winterwayn. You've brought me all I've wanted. As promised, you're free. And do come by my home for your payment later. Use the door this time.” He passed by Arbor without a second glance at the elf and inspected the now controlled body of Langsley. “Stop fighting it, omniknight. You're mine now. Follow me like a good dog.” He gave Langsley two light slaps on the latter's face and parted the guards to leave, giving one last command to his subordinates. “Oh, and clean this mess up.”
For a glance, Arbor could have sworn Langsley looked at the traitor with a begging glare of fear and hatred. But what muddled the elf's reaction was Langsley's torso which had a hole blown through it by buckshot. The man's heart was barely visible next to the ribs but without a doubt, it had ceased its beating. Whatever he had been before, Ierba Langsley was surely nothing more than a walking corpse now. As the body followed after Atro, it left a stream of blood in its steps.
Arbor sat in the waning water, feeling the shaking in his hands. He barely reacted as two guards carried Aramas's corpse away in slow movements that must have taken years. Eventually, he managed to slowly climb to his feet and turned to the doorway where Atro had come from and Langsley's two spears were left on the floor. He limped over, still in a mental state of shock, a constant ringing in his ears.
Before he could even register it, he had crossed the corridor and was bent over Langsley's spears. But his gut could not hold it as he gagged and vomited to the side. One of the guards cleaning up the area cursed d'raow at him, but otherwise left him alone. Only when he stood back up again did Arbor realized he was holding onto the dead knights' weapons.
There was still ringing in his ears, but pass it was a crowded rumble that he could faintly make out as coming from Atro's safe room. Warily, he stepped in with no one seemingly caring about his presence enough to stop him.
It was another viewing platform with a large glass window that overwatched a wide ravine. Light shone in from above with glistening falling snow that painted levelled shades of grey across the rocky walls. At the top of the cliffs were man-made parapets where behind stood lines of cheering crowds. Between the beautiful snowfall, a black, sparking metal ball fell to the bottom, landing between gladiators fighting against a horde of goblins and razorback bears. The black ball exploded shrapnel that tore through all living creatures below.
Arbor watched as the female spear wielder and dual sword knight he had met days ago fall prey to a razorback mauling their body apart as goblins jumped on the remains. In fact, he recognized many of the fighters as those they had given keys to. He had never asked what Atro's plans were for those that joined the rebellion, but it was clear none were given the grace he had been. The noise from the crowd and screams from below caused an avalanche at the near side of the ravine that buried many. Desperate gladiators clawed up the snowy ramp as arrows rained from above to prevent their escape.
One man turned to the window where Atro would have sat watching the spectacle. Instead, horror dawned on him as he found Arbor's face behind the glass before a spectator's firebomb engulfed him.
Blood flowed as a river down the earthen scar.