CHAPTER 15: COURT CONTINUED
My opponent, whatever his name was, had been lying when he implied that his team all had more than fifteen Spirit.
The referee spiked all of them; the first two, Mr. Shovel and Mr. Machete, died screaming. The third, Mr. Pitchfork, collapsed after the spike was removed and had to crawl out of the arena. I went over and snooted him onto my back; he flopped on and was barely able to stay there despite the fact that his legs were dragging on both sides. I managed to get him to the tunnel that led out and gently drop him off—I would have taken him inside but the referee yelled at me, saying I couldn't leave the arena until the Court was over. My former attacker flopped against the wall and collapsed, leaning back with his eyes closed and a hoarsely whispered "Thanks." I slurped him but didn't know what else to do so I left him there and went back to the center of the arena. A crew of small insectile demons was busy dragging the dead bodies out of the arena, chittering angrily to each other as they did. They did not bother collecting the weapons, choosing instead to leave them where they had fallen.
"You've earned sixty-five Spirit already, squishy," the referee chortled. "Less my ten percent, obviously. Doin' great so far and it's early in the day. Plenty of time to earn more."
I considered jumping on him and biting his ugly throat out for killing two humans right in front of me. Unfortunately, he was huge and I was very weak right now; I was confident that I could not beat him. I whined unhappily but said nothing. He smirked at me and replied with equal silence.
Apparently I had been a little too decisive in my victory, or perhaps a bit too brutal. I had my two-minute rest and then another three minutes before someone finally stood up and decided to try his luck.
He was smaller than my previous challengers, wiry and quick on his feet, and had brought a pair of what looked like long kitchen knives. In other circumstances he might have been the most dangerous person I had faced thus far, but he fared no better against my Modify Flavor trick than the previous fighters had. This time I was able to be careful with him; I knocked him down and put one paw on his chest, leaning down so my bared teeth were inches from his face. I wouldn't have done it if he still had hold of his knives, but he dropped them when he fell. Fortunately, he was smart enough to surrender and had enough Spirit to survive the spike and limp away under his own power. The referee did not allow him to pick up his knives.
My next opponent almost saw me quit on the spot. He was thirteen, maybe fourteen, and disturbingly thin. His skin was sallow, his hair was lank and greasy, and he was barefoot in midwinter. His clothes were made of some rough cloth and full of holes but, most importantly, he was empty-handed when he entered the arena. That didn't seem to stop him, because he was waiting on the lowest step, bouncing nervously from foot to foot as he waited for the former challenger to be dealt with. The moment the referee called for the next challenger the boy hurried down into the arena, gathering up all the fallen weapons on the way.
"This shouldn't take long," the referee said, smiling. "Little squirt like this? Our boy here is going to chew you up in seconds, squirt."
The boy clutched the weapons close to his chest and shrugged, not looking away from me. He wasn't even holding anything in a way that would let him fight, just carrying them in a bundle.
The demon waited for a moment, clearly hoping that the boy would rise to his bait, and then shrugged. "Ready, set, fight!"
The referee's hand had only begun to cut downwards in the signal to begin when the challenger shouted, "I surrender!"
The referee and I both froze, staring at the boy in surprise. Why was he even in the arena if he was just going to surrender immediately? Hadn't he seen how painful it was to be spiked?
"I get to keep the weapons, right?" he asked, shifting nervously. "I'm holding them so I get to take them out with me. That's right, yeah?"
The referee snorted in amusement. "Yeah, that's right. You're seriously paying ten Spirit for some shitty junk like that? It'll take you months to recover."
The boy shrugged one shoulder, trying and failing to look brave. "Four good knives, a chopper, a pitchfork, a shovel, and a spear? I can get work with the tools, and Todas and Ailly and I won't be driven out of our squat anymore."
The referee shook his head in amusement. "You humans. Your stupidity never ceases to amaze."
He started forward, his tentacle extending to grab the boy, but I stepped in his way and growled.
"What do you think you're doing, little snack? He surrendered, he lost, he has to pay."
I shook my head firmly, not bothering to say anything.
"Uh, Boss," Murray said nervously. "Ya really don' wanna break an agreement like dis. Us PortalCo employees, we take contracts real serious. You agreed ta da protocols when ya came in here. If ya don't let da kid get spiked, Handsy here is gonna get violent. And even if ya could beat him, which I don't t'ink ya could, he'll jes call in reinforcements. Ya can't fight da Neddawoild, Boss. We gots more demons den you got hit points."
I lowered my head mulishly, growling with my ruff fluffed out in threat. No way was I letting anything happen to this poor boy. Not on my watch. I had already injured six humans today and then stood by while they were tortured and even killed. I drew the line at letting that happen to a child.
"Listen to your lickspittle, dog. He's talking sense."
{Gggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.}
"I'll give you to the count of three. One."
"Boss! Step aside! If'n ya break da contract he'll kill both of yas!"
"Two."
"Stop," the boy said, stepping out from behind me and moving towards the demon before I could stop him. "You'll just make it worse."
"Ha! A human who can actually think! Apparently the Glowing Ones do have a sense of humor."
The demon's tentacle shot out, wrapped around the boy's neck, and jerked him off the ground to hang in mid-air. The boy choked and gasped, quickly turning purple, but he hung onto the bundle of weapons like grim death, even when the demon stabbed him up under the ribs with one of the spikes and dragged a broken scream from the depths of the boy's chest. I cringed.
I think the referee was deliberately draining the boy slowly, enjoying his agony and fear at being suffocated. Half a minute in I started growling again; the demon glanced down at me and smirked but didn't otherwise react. I growled louder until finally he decided that he'd made enough of a dominance display and he dropped his victim to the stone.
The boy hit hard and collapsed, going down in a semi-curled heap on his side. Despite everything, he kept the weapons clutched tight to his chest.
I huffed in frustration at what I was about to do, but I could not call myself a good dog if I simply stood by. I stepped forward and nudged him with my nose.
{
Eleven Spirit transferred! Points applied to refilling Spirit. Maximum Spirit exceeded! Re-distributing surplus point... Physique already at max... Mana pool already at max... Surplus point unravels into healing and is applied to the 'Vitamin Deficiency' status effect! Status effect cleared! Status effect will be reinstated if adequate nutrition remains withheld. 1010 Attunement gained to Skill: Spirit Transference! Spirit Transference level up (x7)! Spirit Transference now level: MAX! 520 Attunement gained to General Fund 1,944 Attunement spent! Skill unlocked for Pavel Kobultz: Mystic Acceleration! You have lost access to the Skill: Mystic Acceleration!
The pain of my various minor wounds vanished as the Spirit flowed out of me and I once again shrank slightly, my form resetting itself in the process. The size loss was much less this time, either because I was giving up a smaller amount of my Spirit or because I had already hit some minimum size or perhaps some other dopey reason. At the same time, I watched the circle labeled 'Mystic Acceleration' turn black on the Skillweb, its description vanishing along with my connection to it. I stared at it and quickly blinked twice to unlock it.
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1,296 Attunement spent. Skill unlocked: Mystic Acceleration
Mystic Acceleration Rank: Uncommon Duration: 5 seconds Max Level: 10
You may tap into the power of magic to speed your movements. N mana = N% faster.
This Skill may be used no more than (Level) times per day.
This Skill generates 1 Attunement per 1 mana spent. As with all levelable skills, the Attunement goes to level up the skill until it reaches max, after which it goes into the owner's general fund.
I didn't think twice before smacking the 'Buy' option.
You do not have enough Attunement to purchase this Skill.
Rats. Still, I didn't regret it for a moment. I earned enough Attunement that I'd be able to buy it tomorrow and having access to the Skillweb meant that Pavel could now earn Attunement through combat and could therefore eventually buy Mystic Acceleration, which would change his life. Mystic Acceleration was a useful first Skill to have because it generated Attunement based on how much mana you pushed through it instead of the tiny fixed amount that my various stat boosts gave. Pavel's quality of life was apparently so poor that he would willingly risk death and accept horrific torture merely to gain some tools and weapons. I could not let that stand, and now he should be in a good position to make a life for himself.
"Boss! Are ya fuckin' nuts?! Why—" Murray cut himself off mid-sentence and shifted to Dog. {Why did you do that?! That was bad! You should not have done that!}
{Hush. I did a good thing and I don't regret it.}
{But—!}
{Hush!}
Pavel blinked in astonishment as his skin pinked up and energy visibly flooded into him. He sat up quickly, started to say something, stopped, and went glassy-eyed. After a moment he poked at midair in a way that I remembered from my first experience interacting with Mr. FloatyBox. Finally his eyes focused on me again.
"Why did you do that?" Pavel whispered. "I can't pay for it."
I shrugged and wordlessly waved Murray to come forward so that he could murmur in Pavel's ear. "You needed it and I'm a good dog. Humans and dogs, we look out for each other. You've got access to the Skillweb now. You can earn Attunement through fighting, even non-lethal fights. Do that, buy Mystic Acceleration. Practice with it until you have enough Attunement built up that you can unlock it for one of your friends and then buy it back for yourself. That's enough to pay me back."
He stared at me, wide-eyed, obviously trying to wrap his brain around what I was saying.
"I'm Pavel Kobultz," he said, keeping his voice low. "I live on Pauper's Square where it backs up on the Tangles. If I can ever do anything for you, anything at all, you find me."
I exaggerated the process of looking around to check that no one had snuck up to eavesdrop on us in the wide-open arena. Then I leaned in close as though to whisper something to him...and slurped him thoroughly.
"Gack!"
I sat back, tongue lolling in amusement. "Thank you, Pavel," I said through Murray. "You should probably go now."
He wiped his face on his arm and glared at me with an expression of amused betrayal.
"How adorable," the referee said. "Are you quite done? Should I leave for a time so that the two of you may enjoy a properly [something] [something]?"
I cocked my head in confusion. The demon was speaking Ozurdati so I could understand it without translation, but these were unfamiliar words.
The demon saw my lack of understanding. "Do you need me to leave so that you and the squirt there can fuck?" he asked, grinning.
I very nearly lunged forward and bit his heckin' knees off, but I managed to restrain myself.
I don't know if Pavel understood Ozurdati but he took the hint. He jumped up, juggled the weapons he was still clutching into a more convenient bundle, and gave me a grateful nod before dashing off to the nearest exit from the arena.
"Aaaaand, the latest challenger has fucked off! Who's next? Our Champion awaits! Come and claim your prize, folks! Riches and good fortune await anyone brave and strong enough to defeat a little tiny dog! Step right up, change your life!"
No one moved.
"C'mon, don't be pussies! Right now you're all a bunch of losers—poor, ignorant, powerless. Wouldn't it feel good to be strong? To be able to protect yourself and those you love?" A murmur went through the crowd and everyone shifted in their seats. "Wouldn't you like to be rich? Your entire life, you've had your face crushed into the muck by the boot of those privileged few, those bastards who got rich because they were lucky enough to be born with access, or had rich parents who could buy it for them! Well, here's one of those bastards right here, daring you to face him!"
{Hang on, what?}
"He thinks he's better than you! He's here to remind everyone that blanks like you are worthless, that you can't measure up!"
"No I'm not! That's not true! I didn't even want to be here today!"
"See? He's afraid of you—he saw the determination of those three earlier and he ran. He bled! If he bleeds, he can die, so come and do it." He gestured around at the cages of mice that lined the walls of the arena. "Just think—if you kill him, all his Skills will be there, ripe for the plucking! Sure, if he chickens out and surrenders or gets knocked out then you'll get Mystic Acceleration unlocked, but if you kill him...well, who knows what you might get?"
The crowd was getting more and more restless. People were looking at each other and murmuring angrily back and forth, egging each other on.
"Excuse me, aren't referees supposed to be impartial? You don't sound very impartial."
"Shut up, kid," the referee said, quietly and out of the corner of his mouth. "These wimps aren't going to move if you keep beating them so easily. Don't you know anything about arena fighting? You need to draw it out more, make it look like you're struggling and getting tired."
I sighed and sat down, looking pointedly away from the referee.
"He ain't wrong, Boss. Try ta droop a little, huh? Maybe fake a limp."
I rolled my eyes at Murray but I stood up and took a few steps, ostentatiously keeping my foreonpaw off the ground and hopping on the other three.
"Not now! During the fight! And don't overdo it. Remember, if you was really hurt ya'd be tryin'a hide it."
{This sounds too complicated.} I blew out a breath, letting my lips flap dismissively at him.
"Come on, ya wimps!" the referee said, looking up into the stands and spreading his arms wide. "Nobody? Not a single one of you wants to be rich and powerful?"
No one moved.
I glanced over to where Eugene was sitting. He was in whispered conversation with the man next to him, gesturing towards me and laughing. The man shook his head. Eugene spread his arms in a gesture of invitation. I couldn't hear what he was saying but his expression was walking the line between 'teasing' and 'mocking'.
The man shook his head again and said something sharp to Eugene before folding his arms. Eugene tried one more time but the man snapped at him again. With a sigh, Eugene got up and trotted up the stairs to where there was an upper-level exit that did not require him going through the arena. He stopped, the door half-open, and turned back to look towards me. When he saw he had my attention he raised one finger in a 'wait' gesture, waved, and slipped out through the door.
"C'mon, you stupid blanks!" the referee said. "Come fight for a better life! You have nothing to lose but the chains of your oppression! Aren't you tired of going to sleep hungry, wondering if you'll be able to get enough work to eat tomorrow? Don't you want the life of luxury that comes with access? One fight, a little bit of skill and a little bit of luck, and it's all yours. All you have to do is take it. Stand up and show the powers of this world that you are as strong as they are, that your will is stronger! Show them that you will not be oppressed! What have you to lose?!"
Apparently the answer was 'our lives', because no one moved. Their faces were universally angry and frustrated, but no one was willing to stand up. Clearly, seeing multiple people like themselves die, screaming in agony on the end of the referee's spike, was too much.
"Bah," the referee said. "You're all a bunch of cowards."
Everyone in the audience continued not moving.
"Anyone?" He turned a slow circle, studying the crowd hopefully. When there was no response he sighed a puff of stinky purple smoke and sat down cross-legged.
"I hope day and night change places soon," he grumbled. "What time is it out there, anyway?"
"Eight in the morning," I told him.
He frowned. "I can never remember your screwy meat-based time schedules. What time is it compared to sunrise or sunset?"
"Right now it's about an hour after sunrise and about ten hours until sunset."
"Nooooooooooo!!!!!!"