Phoenix sat across from Becca, her mind racing as she tried to figure out where to start. The dim light of the dungeon flickered, casting elongated shadows on the cold stone walls, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and despair.
“So this planet is called Estradé,” Becca began, her voice steady despite the grim circumstances. “It’s one of the millions of inhabited planets in this galaxy alone. No one knows who or what the system is, but legend says it appeared one day, bringing cultivation and monsters with it. Those that thrived got stronger, while those that didn’t were killed. After a harsh culling, each planet was ranked based on their performance. Ranks go from F—the weakest—up to God-tiers, and some say beyond. Each planet holds a certain amount of essence parallel to those tiers.”
Phoenix listened intently, absorbing every word. The weight of this new information pressed down on her.
“In order to get stronger, you collect essence,” Becca continued, her eyes narrowing in thought. “But I’m sure as you’ve figured out, those weaker creatures are helping you less and less as you grow in strength.” She broke off to confirm, and seemed relieved when Phoenix nodded in agreement.
“As you’ve found, any monster or even sentient being below your rank or essence level is worthless to you. This requires you to travel to higher-ranked planets to cultivate to higher tiers. Are you following so far?” Phoenix nodded again, but her head was already spinning. The complexity of this system was overwhelming, and she felt like she was trying to drink from a firehose. She thought back to her time in the woods and remembered something that had stood out to her.
“So what is a core?” she asked, curiosity piqued despite the dire situation.
Becca blinked in surprise at the question but answered, her expression shifting to one of seriousness. “A core is usually developed in F rank once you’ve collected enough essence to condense. The easiest way to explain it is that the essence enters your body and is just floating around in there. When you’ve gotten a good storage, you start compressing that essence into a sort of ball, which makes you—your skills and abilities—more powerful.”
“For example, I’m a mage,” she continued. “If I were to develop a core, I would be way more powerful than a mage at my exact same level but who lacks a core. Most begin to condense their core around level 50 because anything below just lacks the pure essence needed, and most can’t see their own essence until it’s pretty much saturated their whole body. Some richer and higher nobles can blast their way past that by taking elixirs, but that ruins their cultivation further down the line.” Damn, so that wolf I saw in the woods had to have been at least level 50 to have a core. I'm really glad I stayed away from that one.
A loud bang resounded in the dungeon, breaking the tension between them. Both women looked toward the open bars, and Phoenix’s heart raced as Bento strode in, his presence filling the cramped space with a sense of dread. He stopped at their cell, a smug grin plastered across his face as he unlocked it.
“Well, you’ve been officially registered in our Arena fights, little girl,” he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “Soon we’ll see if the fire you showed me in the woods was real or if you were just putting on a show. I’d advise you to win; otherwise, you will have lost me a lot of money, and your life will be forfeit.”
Phoenix spat at him again, a defiant gesture, but he dodged, his reflexes sharp. He grabbed for her wrist, and before she could react, he slapped something cold and metallic into her skin.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
She screamed as it seemed to have a mind of its own, burrowing itself into her flesh. Panic surged through her, and she heard Bento's muffled laugh as the door swung closed again. The metal continued to embed itself into her wrist until only part of it was visible to the naked eye. It flashed blue, and Phoenix could see some sort of runes being activated around the shackle.
Prisoner’s Culling (D)
This shackle was designed to prevent cultivation, skill gain, or attributes from being obtained while being worn. It can only be removed by the person who placed it, or the death of the prisoner. All gains obtained by the prisoner will be stored for future use and released to the prisoner when removed.
Panting as the awful assault finally ceased, she looked up and saw Becca staring at her with pity. Only then did she notice that Becca, too, sported the same metal shackle on her wrist, a cruel reminder her life wasn't hers to control anymore.
“They’re torturous little things, aren’t they?” Becca said, shaking her head. “This is the reason none of us have been able to get stronger even though we fight in the arena almost daily. No levels, no stats, nothing. It says we’re ‘prisoners’ in the description, but our common name is ‘culled.’ Funny, isn’t it?”
“How long have you been here?” Something inside Phoenix told her she didn’t want to know the answer, but she needed to hear it.
“Two years,” Becca replied, her voice laced with exhaustion. “Two years I’ve been forced to kill whoever they pit me against in the arena. You’re going to want to give them mercy, or save whoever it is. Trust me, you can’t. Don’t fight it, Phoenix. When you go out there, the only thing you can do is fight and kill, or you will be killed.” With that, Becca seemed to be done talking for the time being, and they lapsed into a heavy silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
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A couple of hours later, food was brought to them. Well, something was brought to them. Phoenix didn’t want to know what was in the slop that was provided, its unappealing color and texture making her stomach churn. Becca, however, wolfed down her portion with a ravenous hunger, and when she saw that Phoenix wasn’t eating, she ate her portion too.
Not twenty minutes later, the door slammed open again, and six men entered, including Bento and Tristan. They all went to different cells, their voices low and conspiratorial. Bento approached their cell, a sinister smile creeping across his face.
“Fights are starting, little girl. You will be fighting last today. Your opponent will be an Essence 11. Archer type. She's won most of her fights, some of us don't believe our Culled should die just because they loose...I believe differently.” His words hung in the air like a death sentence.
He turned to address Becca, his tone casual yet dismissive. “You’re not fighting today. Hunter is out of the city on business.” Becca flinched at the name but only nodded in agreement, a look of resignation crossing her face. Phoenix could tell the other men were finishing up their talks with their “fighters” and were preparing to leave. Bento took one last look at her, a predatory gleam in his eye, and then followed them out.
One by one, the fighters were marched out of their cells, disappearing through the door. Of the five fighters that went before her, three returned, their expressions a mix of grim determination and barely concealed fear. Phoenix could only assume what had happened to the others. Her heart raced faster and faster as she knew her time was drawing near.
“She may be stronger than you, but everyone has a weak spot. At F rank, killing shots still means death. Stab them enough times, they die. Pierce their heart, they die. Good luck,” Becca said, her voice steady but tinged with concern, just in time for the guards to show up and drag Phoenix from her cell.
The doors opened, and they stepped into another dark hallway, but the thunderous roar of an audience could be heard above them. We have to be under the arena right now. The thought of running crossed her mind, but she knew there had to be thousands of people around the arena, not to mention guards, and she had no clue where she was. Best just to fight this one out and survive, she decided, as they got closer to an open area of the arena.
Bento greeted them at the entrance, grabbing her shoulder roughly. “I got a lot riding on you,” he growled, his grip like a vice. With that, she was shoved through the opening, and the bright light of the arena filled her eyes, momentarily blinding her.
As her vision adjusted, she took in the sight of the massive arena, the stands filled with a raucous crowd, their cheers and jeers echoing in her ears. How do I always end up in these situations? She was no longer just a medic; she was a fighter in a brutal game of survival, and the stakes had never been higher.
With her heart pounding in her chest, Phoenix squared her shoulders, ready to face whatever awaited her in this twisted arena.