In a narrow corridor, two men in black robes were carrying a limp half-oni while a woman was following from behind. After passing several crossroads and doors, they entered a small, empty room and tied him with ropes in a chair. The men then left the two alone.
“Wake up, Kane.”
A soft voice echoed in the room. He opened his eyes a while later and turned his head left and right. He tried to move his hands, only to find out that they were tied with a shackle. His student uniform was replaced with a plain white shirt and short pants.
“S-senior? Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I dressed like this?” he asked repeatedly.
As he looked upward, Sharon hovered over him, casting a cold stare. She was dressed in a black and violet gown with ample décolletage, accentuating her curves. The golden signet ring, engraved with her family crest, decorated her index finger.
“I understand your confusion, but I cannot answer any of your questions as of now. First, look at your stomach.”
Kane raised his shirt. A strange tattoo resembling a magic circle was branded on his abdomen. “Wh-what is this?”
“It’s a limiter. You won’t be able to cast any spell or vis as long as that brand is there. It will be removed after you’ve completed your purpose,” she explained.
“This… you’re lying!” Kane chanted [Lesser Firebomb]. The circle manifested; however, it disappeared in an instant. He tried once more; it yielded the same result.
“Your struggle is meaningless. Be a good boy if you wish to live.”
“What do you want from me!?” he demanded.
“I want you to entertain me… no, us.” Sharon cracked a smile.
“Huh…?”
Then, someone knocked on the door twice, interrupting them. A bald, scrawny man entered the room. The man whispered something and bowed to Sharon before leaving the room.
“It’s almost time. Your warden will explain the rest.” Sharon turned around. “By any chance, if you’re still conscious after this, I’ll answer your questions.”
“What do you mean? Wait! Don’t leave!” Kane shouted repeatedly.
Sharon ignored him as though she was deaf and exited the room. A bar dropped behind the door, barring Kane from opening it. As soon as she disappeared from his view, Kane’s contorted face gradually relaxed, reverting to his usual self.
---
“I hope my awful acting convinced her. Ah, I should’ve thrown some insults or something,” Kane murmured.
Scratching his messy hair, he slouched against the chair and recalled the previous events. Before meeting Sharon, he had considered some alternative plans. Stalking her would be a safer choice, but it cost time and possibly money if he were to hire someone. Moreover, if she turned out to be innocent, the failure cost would be massive. Raiding the meeting was also a terrible plan. Even if Sharon got caught, then what? There was a high chance that Sharon wouldn’t tell anything, resulting in failing to retrieve the feather.
Therefore, Kane decided to take the bait — the most straightforward plan of them all. At first glance, it seemed to be a reckless move; however, he had calculated the risks and prepared accordingly. The potion he drank before was to reduce the efficacy of the poison, thus preventing him from dying. After all, she had killed someone before, based on her aura. While it was fortunate that she merely put him to sleep, Kane also woke up earlier than he should’ve — and he regretted it. Not only did he hear nothing useful, but he also had to endure the searing pain inflicted by the branding. Perhaps it was her way to save the victim from agony.
Sharon discovering his intention was also within his prediction — if not inevitable — since she was aware that someone would try to investigate her. That’s why Kane had crafted a plan around getting caught rather than trying to avoid her suspicion. Nonetheless, her motive behind the kidnapping remained unknown. He could come up with a couple of reasons: slavery, child trafficking, organ harvesting, and perhaps others that he couldn’t think of now. However, wouldn’t all of those activities anger Reynar? Especially when Sharon already knew Kane’s status.
Then, he recalled Sharon’s recent words. Entertain us, she said. Based on that, a bunch of people were waiting for him beyond that cold door. But what was exactly ‘entertaining’ to them? Definitely something twisted or perverse since, as far as he was concerned, many nobles had strange fetishes. Was this related to her conversation with Hymar back in the royal library? If so, the replacement was him all along.
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Kane stroked his stomach, grasping for the limiter. Unlike tattoos, it had no protrusion, meaning that the seal was temporary. Moreover, it was badly made as Kane was able to project a modicum of vis on his hand. Much less than normal, but it should be more than enough. Nevertheless, he still couldn’t cast any spells.
Many questions still lingered in his mind; however, he had no choice but to survive this hurdle.
The steel bar was lifted. Three people entered the room. One in the middle was a rather short, hunched man, only slightly taller than Kane. He wore a black robe, complemented with a matching big black hat. The other two were donned in a leather scale armor and carrying a steel baton, and a full-face helmet. They pulled the rope’s knot, letting it fall.
“Kane, wear this and follow me. Obediently.” The black-robed man tossed a dark grey cotton mask. It covered only the upper face and had four holes: two for eyes and the other two for his horns. The mask was tailored for him, it seemed.
From now on, he would call the man-in-black ‘warden’ while the other two ‘guards’.
Kane wore it and followed them outside, barefooted. While traveling through the corridor in silence, he shouted, “Hey!”
Alas, no response, as he thought. They most likely had been dealing with prisoners like him for a long time. Inquiring further would be useless… or until one of them spoke.
“Yer very calm, ain’tcha? Is this really yer first time here?” asked the warden, turning his head toward Kane.
“There’s nothing much I could do anyway.”
“Smart. Thought yer gonna be wild or somethin’. Bet everyone says that, huh?”
“You don’t know half of it.” Kane smiled wryly.
“Welp, thanks for making ma job easier. If only all Champions were like ya.”
“Champions? What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
The further they walked, the clearer the sound of the crowd’s cheer, and the closer the entrance. After ascending a staircase, Kane found himself in a spacious lit room filled with a hundred people. The well-dressed crowd was watching a brutal scene on the caged platform. A fight. More precisely, a brawl between two people under the artificial magic sun. They all shared common traits with Kane: wore the same white clothes and mask, bound by the same shackle and around his age.
In the east corner, a dark-skinned boy threw jabs and hooks. Sweat covered his toned muscles, reflecting the light. In the west corner, a young dwarf guarded his face. Based on his frame, he was at least 2-3 years older than his opponent yet much shorter. The fight appeared to be one-sided. A masked man wearing a red robe — who seemed to be the referee — was observing from above the cage.
“An underaged brawl, huh?” Kane had heard about it. Officially, a brawler was required to be at least 18 years old and most importantly, consent to fight. Those rules were inverted in this brawl, which made it unofficial. Although, what was the connection between this brawl and Sharon stealing the Black Feather?
In any case, it wasn’t that bad. His blood was pumping faster and his fists were itching. It had been a long time since he’d last fought with fists.
“Aye. And yer job is to fight in that.” The warden pointed at the cage.
“Why did you call me here when the fight isn’t over yet?”
“Miss Sharon told me to guide and calm ya down, cause ya know, first-timers usually ain’t the calmest. Though ya don’t need that,” he replied.
“How considerate of her,” said Kane. He now understood the reason she wasn’t telling him anything.
“Anyway, to earn yer freedom back, ya haft to win at least three matches. Whether to continue fightin’, that’s up to ya.”
“Won’t the freed champions snitch?”
“That ain’t a problem. This brawl’s a known secret, the royals even know ‘bout it.”
“What will happen if I lose?”
“Nothin’. Unless ya got beaten to death, ain’t nothin’ happenin’. But, it’d be the best for ya to not lose too much cause yer body will crumble in no time.”
As soon as he said that, the dwarf redirected the incoming punch, then at the same time countered with a blow to the liver. The dark-skinned man kneeled, grimacing, before receiving a heavy uppercut to the chin. He flew backward, skidding on the ground. No signs of clear movement were detected from him.
The referee jumped down and intervened in the fight. He raised the dwarf’s arm and declared him as a winner. The crowd cheered, applauding. The warden of both Champions then escorted them out of the cage, going to the underground corridor.
The dark-skinned man’s warden passed by Kane. His two guards carried him with a stretcher in a hurry.
“Yer turn, boy.” The warden and his guards led him to the center.
Kane entered the cage of his volition, unlike the plump kid on the opposite side. His warden had to beat him with the baton. It took a minute until he finally stepped inside. The cage entrances were then locked from outside.
“May Lord of Fortune be with ya,” the warden whispered.
Kane gave a slight nod. He looked around, trying to find Sharon. She was sitting on the second floor, where the seats were fewer and fancier. When their eyes met, she lifted her goblet at him, smiling. Give your best shot! …was perhaps what she meant. Kane then lowered his gaze. The kid was banging on the cage, screaming for help, but to no avail.
“West Champion! Behave yourself or I’ll punish you with my lighting spell!” The referee warned from above.
“Ugh…” He ceased whining and turned around. His big brown eyes stared at Kane. He was the same age as him but taller.
Then, a loud voice filled the whole room. A suave man stood near the cage and spoke loudly, “Ladies and Gentlemen! Witness the debut match tonight! In the west corner, a promising fresh squire from Riverton Academy, Carlsoooon! The first Champion of a long-time fan of our brawl, Sir Edward!”
“In the east corner, the exotic half-oni who somehow became a student of the prestigious magic school, Niflenia Academy, has become a new Champion for the beautiful Miss Sharon. We present you, Kaaaane!”
Carlson gaped. “You’re… a mage student? How?”
“I’m an exception,” replied Kane.
“Ahem!” The referee coughed. “I’ll explain the rules. You two must fight until one of you is knocked out cold or… dead. No surrender is allowed.”
“Y-you’re kidding, right?” Carlson trembled.
“Anything goes, as long as you two hit each other. Otherwise, you’ll be thundered till you fight. Trust me, you don’t want that.”
The announcer spoke again, “And now, let the brawl…”
“Begin!”