Santiago’s group was surrounded by three sixth-tier beasts, but instead of looking at them, Santiago’s eyes were instead trained upon the Royal box. More specifically, they were first locked upon Isabella, who had presumably just announced his death by beast, and then they slid over to the spectating Alfonso, who was leaning forward in his seat with an almost maniacal grin on his face.

Then, they went a little further and landed upon Leon, narrowing slightly. Leon didn’t shy away from Santiago’s glare, quietly staring back. The bandit had made his choices, and in the Alliance, these were the consequences, as generally distasteful as Leon might’ve found them.

And then the dragon-turtle roared and charged, lumbering forward with greater speed than its massive body suggested it was capable of. Its maw never closed, but instead widened, giving just about the entire arena a view of its rows of vicious fangs just before Leon felt its aura spike. A moment later, accompanied by a warbling wail from deep within the turtle’s throat, a jet of steam erupted from the turtle’s jaws. It almost bathed Santiago’s entire group and would’ve surely injured them gravely, but just before the wave of steam hit them, a shimmering white barrier sprang into place—Santiago had moved so fast that Leon had to channel some of his lightning magic into his eyes to track him.

The steam harmlessly washed over the barrier, but before the bandits could celebrate, the chittering human-faced centipede screeched and lunged forward, its body undulating and whipping back and forth before it sank its mandibles into the leg of one of the bandits. He was a fifth-tier mage, though, and so even though he screamed in pain, he started to blast the centipede’s face with fire as two more of his comrades ran forward to help, hitting the centipede with rock spikes and, to Leon’s surprise, a few small blasts of lightning.

This magic seemed to have a good effect on the creature, for it released its victim a moment later and pulled back.

“On your feet!” Santiago shouted, and his injured compatriot’s leg glowed with white light, sealing the injury.

“Thanks!” the man shouted back as he struggled back to his feet.

But now the spider made its move. It skittered forth, moving with a confidence that Leon didn’t expect given its lack of eyes. It moved quickly, but not so much that three of the bandits couldn’t conjure two spiked stone walls in its way and fire off another blast of lightning to slow it down. Santiago then turned and raised his hand, creating a blade of light more than thirty feet long, and brought it down upon the spider with savage force when it came too close.

His magic blade split the creature’s carapace open, but it continued to surge forward with a ferocity that Leon found rather strange. Despite having suffered Santiago’s strike, a blast of lightning, and having to crash through two spiked walls, the spider’s will to fight hadn’t even wavered. Instead, it lunged as it drew close, spearing one pair of its chelicera through the chest of one of the bandits’ earth mages. The man screamed in pain as the burning fangs tore through him, but his scream was soon silenced when the spider pulled his body into its abyssal mouth and closed it around the top of his body.

A moment later, the bottom half of his body fell to the ground in a bloody heap, sans everything above his hips.

And the crowd roared in approval, the tremor of their elation not wavering even slightly as Santiago gutturally screamed in rage and loss and fired a ray of white light into the spider’s ‘face’. The spider was thrown back by the force, stone dead.

One of the bandits was dead, but they’d also killed one of the beasts harrying them. A good exchange on an objective level, but Leon could see that the bandits were shaken by the loss of their friend, and none more so than Santiago, who fell to his knees over the remains of his fallen friend.

The bandits closed ranks again, and the centipede and the dragon turtle circled the group of bandits warily, not charging in nearly as recklessly as the spider had, giving Leon more than enough time to lean over to Alfonso and say, “That spider acted strangely; I’ve rarely seen wild beasts charge so suicidally before…”

Sensing the question in Leon’s statement, Alfonso replied, “Ah, well it would bring great shame upon us if the sacrifices we bring to these hallowed grounds don’t cooperate, so we ensure cooperation to the best of our ability. Some are more amenable than others—the urge to live can be a difficult thing to overpower, even when presented with such an honorable and glorious death.”

Leon grimly smiled. “How exactly do you ensure cooperation?”

“Certain compounds within the beast’s food can increase aggression. Some, however, react more appropriately if given less food; some might require a beating or two until their blood gets hot. These stronger animals are much harder to control, as you can plainly see…” The King nodded to the centipede and the dragon turtle.

The centipede had been injured by Santiago’s people, so Leon could understand the pain lessening the aggression that the Cortubans had tried to bring out, but the dragon turtle seemed far more intelligent than its relatively low tier implied. For all its obvious strength and power, it could recognize that Santiago’s group was more than powerful enough to injure it, and so it was keeping its distance, not wanting to risk injury to itself getting too close.

“Out of curiosity,” Leon asked as he heard the shouting of the crowd start to change as the lull in fighting started to grow too long, “how much can the audience interact with the fight?”

Alfonso finally turned his eyes toward Leon. “Why do you ask?”

“Just a curiosity,” Leon repeated, though that wasn’t the whole truth. He supposed he wasn’t quite over his decision to not try and recruit Santiago, and from the way that the man had reacted when his man had been killed, then perhaps his talk of loyalty being worthless was just that: talk. It was because of Leon that he was now facing a potentially slow and agonizing death to a vicious monster rather than the quick death that Leon would’ve offered, and he supposed if there was a way to help him out a bit, then Leon might take it.

Alfonso studied him closely for a moment before answering, “That depends on the person. We don’t want the mob to get too many ideas, but if it’s someone of standing, then they may, may, have mercy enough to show those down in the arena favor—possibly going so far as to offer them some kind of patronage. Direct intervention can sometimes be a part of that.”

“And your gods are fine with that?” Leon innocently inquired.

“So long as sufficient blood is spilled and the gods get their due, then they have no problems with us,” Alfonso replied with a knowing smile as he turned back to the arena.

As they were speaking, so too was Santiago whispering desperately with his men while doing his best to keep his attention on the dragon turtle, ensuring that the monster knew that he was still threat enough that charging his people would be dangerous. But only a couple seconds after Leon finished his short exchange with Alfonso, Santiago finished with his men, and they sprang into action.

Santiago’s remaining five bandits charged at the centipede, summoning their fifth-tier powers. Santiago himself charged at the dragon turtle as his hands glowed with white light. The dragon turtle snarled and swiftly swiped forward with one of its massive, webbed feet, blade-like claws on the end of each digit, but Santiago was fast enough to dodge. He soared over the monster, landing on its back, but was forced to immediately leap off again when tiny cracks in the creature’s shell spewed intense steam and the creature itself started to violently shake and slam itself into the walls of the arena.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Leon was surprised that the creature didn’t even dent the enchanted walls of the arena, but he supposed that such violence was expected, and the design of the arena accounted for it. But as Santiago fought his opponent, dodging an attempt by the dragon turtle to snap him into its jaws, Leon was reaching into the sky with his power. He wasn’t being overly subtle with it, but he wasn’t going so fast as to attract much attention. He only detected a brief glance apiece from Alfonso, Isabella, Damien, and Emilie.

The sky above was quite clear of clouds, but as Leon’s magic power suffused the area and he put his training with the Thunderbird to the test, he began to seize control of what little water magic was there and augmenting it with some of his own. Over the course of about half a minute, clouds began gathering over the arena, blocking out the sun from the open roof. Clouds being blown in by the wind was hardly anything special, though, and as far as Leon could tell, no one out in the stands or in the private boxes gave the clouds anything more than a cursory glance.

Once the clouds had gathered, he began to swirl them around a bit, almost like he was stirring cake batter, and he could feel lightning magic begin to build within. He could summon lightning from the clouds right now if he wanted, but for the bolt to have any power at all, then he needed to give it more time to build. So, devoting some of his attention to keep generating lighting magic, he let his eyes drift back down to the fight.

By this point, another of Santiago’s bandits had been killed, and a third had been lifted into the air within the monster’s mandibles as it reared up onto its innumerable hind legs. It writhed with the bandit in its grasp, the magic attacks that splashed across its hard carapace causing it obvious pain. It squeezed the bandit with its mandibles, slicing him in half even as the rest of the bandits blasted a hole in its carapace and began tearing out its insides. But in its death throes, the centipede thrashed about, the sharp ends of its legs acting as deadly spears. All three of Santiago’s remaining bandits found themselves impaled upon the dying monster’s limbs, tossed about like stringless puppets as it writhed in pain, and finally crushed beneath the centipede’s massive weight as it finally fell to the sand, dead.

Santiago, meanwhile, was being pressed back by the dragon turtle. Its hide was proving resistant to his damaging light, while its shell seemed out and out immune. The bandit was doing little more than annoying it as he let loose with spear-like rays and massive blades of sparkling white light. He was putting his all into his attacks, but the monster barely seemed fazed. Instead, it roared, stomped on the ground, and shook the earth. Leon felt the entire arena shake, and that was after the dragon turtle’s strength managed to get past the arena’s enchantments—Santiago, being only a few dozen feet away, was knocked right over, and the rhythm of his attacks was disrupted. The dragon turtle loomed over him, and Leon could feel its magic spiking once again.

It was preparing to blast the bandit with its steam breath once again, and at point-blank range, Leon doubted that he’d be able to survive.

Leon had been letting the clouds above build up lightning magic for about a minute or so, and he judged that would have to be enough. He reached back up into the clouds, seized control of the lightning magic, and got it into position, just as the Thunderbird had taught him to do.

He could feel the charge above now, building up on the bottom of the cloud, and likewise, he could feel a subtle charge down on the ground gathering. Once more, he used his magic to direct it, having it coalesce on the dragon turtle’s head, causing the monster to pause for a moment in confusion as it sensed his magic crawling over its scalp.

He kept building both charges, his eighth-tier power allowing him to do so with terrific speed. And then, in one violent moment that took even Leon by surprise with how bright, loud, and sudden it was, all of that magic build-up finally paid off. Just before it unleashes its steam breath, a bolt of golden lightning struck the turtle with greater power than nearly any bolt of lightning that Leon had ever thrown in his life, almost blinding and deafening the entire arena.

The dragon turtle was killed instantly, the top of its head almost exploding from the concentrated and directed bolt that Leon had summoned.

A wide smile spread across Leon’s face. He was incredibly pleased with this result, having hardly used a fraction of his power to bring forth such a terrific lightning bolt. The Thunderbird, during their training, had often said that making use of the power around him was far more efficient, but seeing was believing.

Using this technique in battle wasn’t yet a real option, unfortunately. It took too much concentration and too much fine magic control. The disturbances in the magic power within the environment during an army-scale battle might even be too much for him to control. But if he had a minute or two to prepare himself, and the fighting hadn’t started yet, then things might be different.

Leon’s smile widened even further, and only started to fade when he finally checked back in with his surroundings and found that not only was Alfonso staring at him, but Isabella, Emilie, and even Santiago down in the arena were, as well. In fact, as the immediate shock and awe of what had just happened wore off, everyone in the Royal box turned their eyes in his direction.

“What?” he lightly inquired, acting as if the lightning bolt had been an act of nature, or of the Cortuban gods.

Alfonso started to roar with laughter while Isabella’s face contorted in something that looked far more like rage.

“You dare… to interfere…” she whispered, barely audible to Leon’s eighth-tier ears with Alfonso losing his mind right next to him.

“Inter…fere?!” the King croaked between great guffaws. “No such… not possible!!”

The King slapped the arm rest of seat as he turned his attention back to the sands, where Santiago was pulling himself back to his feet, his eyes still locked upon Leon, a complex look on his face.

Leon did likewise, meeting Santiago’s gaze unashamedly, smiling down at the silver-eyed bandit like he was in complete control of the man’s life. Which wasn’t entirely the truth, but neither was the truth that far away.

His attention only wavered when he felt Elise slide her fingers into his and whisper into his ear, “Does that mean you’re recruiting him?”

Leon simply replied, “No.” His tone indicated that he wasn’t of a mind to elaborate, so Elise just nodded, but she kept her hand entwined with his—a clear show of support that had him squeezing her hand back in appreciation.

Isabella glared at Leon, only turning away from him when Alfonso finally managed to suck in a deep enough breath to stop laughing.

“Leon has done nothing wrong,” Alfonso said, punctuating his statement with a few last low chuckles. “The gods have taken their price of blood, and the traitor still lives. The gods have acted through Leon, thusly saving the man from certain death.”

“The gods have nothing to do with this,” Isabella retorted furiously, and Leon started to feel more than a little awkward about the whole thing. “This was to be an execution, we can’t simply let a traitor-turned-bandit walk free just because of some archaic rules that priests two thousand years ago made up!”

Alfonso’s expression hardened, and he turned from gleefully watching the arena to stare at Isabella. “Mocking our oldest and most sacred traditions is unbecoming,” he growled. “But we can save our words on that for later. Regardless, the rules are clear. The beasts are dead. The traitor is alive. Santiago will walk free. Leon has done nothing wrong.”

The tension between the two pentarchs grew more intense, but after Isabella glanced around at the arena and saw that every eye in the stands was watching the two bicker, she held her tongue and rose from her seat. She walked to the edge of the box and began speaking, though Leon couldn’t follow what she was saying. So, instead, he threw a few apologetic looks in Cristina and Emilie’s directions since both were staring at him with similar looks of resignation and reproachment.

When Isabella finished speaking, the entire arena practically exploded with how loudly the crowd cheered. Their excitement shook the massive structure harder than even the dragon turtle had, and Leon watched as Santiago reeled from whatever had been announced. The silver-eyed bandit staggered backward, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

It was only when he turned around and saw the corpses of his fellows that he collapsed to his hands and knees. Several Cortuban guards then walked out of the nearest gate and pulled the man to his feet. They didn’t clap him in irons, but they did rather forcefully escort him off the sands, allowing him only one last glance toward the Royal box—to Leon, and give him a look of mixed hatred and gratitude.

Leon nodded in recognition, but he wasn’t going to go looking for the bandit. Santiago had impressed him once again with his obvious, if rather subdued, concern for his people. Leon hadn’t saved the man for any other reason. But he had a feeling that even though he wasn’t going to go and recruit Santiago, that they would meet again in the future. And when they did, maybe things would be different. Maybe Santiago would be more willing to trust him, or maybe Leon would be more willing to trust Santiago.

He couldn’t predict the future. But as those in the Royal box began to rise and file back into the main room to continue their party, Leon stayed for just a few extra moments, his eyes drifting down to the arena’s sands. Santiago, he could forget about for now. But the blood magic he’d detected, he had to investigate.