The child bit and chewed Jack’s leg, crimson now stirring in its cold eyes. Flesh and blood dripped down in and outside the skeletal child’s skull then fell down, forming a pile of red mush on the tile below.
I will evaporate you into dust and destroy what remains of you with that loot! Fury boiled in Jack. He raised his left leg, flashed a smirk and hammered the leg down on the skeletal child’s skull.
Half of the head shattered into dozens of pieces, making cracks and crunches, leaving the cold eyes dangling off a few loose bones.
The child didn’t feel the pain of being destroyed -- yes, it stumbled, but then jumped for Jack’s other leg.
Instead of squirming out or screaming in fear, Jack let his smile rise as he opened a wide gap between his legs and then flung them back together.
His blood splattered and the child’s bones crunched between his limbs.
Goodbye, he kicked the headless body on to another tile.
The skeletal child crashed, but then scrambled back up. It scratched and kicked the square under it, unable to make a move and counterattack.
Jack stood up, shaking and dizzy.
His blood was smeared over every inch of the below tile. Skull fragments laid atop the blood giving the gruesome scene a look reminiscent of southern tribes’ paintings, meant to be as terrifying as possible, to drive away beasts.
Jack covered his mouth and turned to the skeletal child.
It’s my move now. He unsheathed his dagger and took a whiff of the stinking blade. What you just felt was nothing, not even what I’d consider a turn compared to what’ll come next.
Pain and rage boiled inside Jack then overpowered him. Lunging forward, he punched with his left to crush as much as he could of the child and stabbed with his right to evaporate the child’s remains from existence.
The deads neck combusted into a white flame and its shoulder exploded. The whole creature garbled and released a crimson cloud of dust which engulfed it. A second passed and the carnage cleared, revealing the child still on its feet.
W-what?! Jack stopped for a moment. Once is not enough for you?!
Hunter destroyed a whole wave of deadmen with a few splashes!
The half of the child that remained was dyed red and stayed vicious, struggling, but still attacking.
Well, more opportunities for me to destroy you! Jack grabbed its ribs and stabbed it countless times. His blade caused a blinding explosion, turned the child’s arm into a wave of water, which splashed on Jack’s foot, then puffed its legs into smoke.
The remaining parts of the creature--its chest bones and a patch of skin--twisted and vibrated.
Jack threw it down, stepped on it with his bloodied leg and pushed. The bones under his foot ground into dust.
Finally.
He stepped off and raised a fist. The sudden change in circulation made him even more dazed.
Damn you like a bascalle, I won, he thought then the irony came to him. You’ve been damned again, little bastard.
Jack grabbed his forehead to stop the spinning and observed his injuries. Around the calf, his pants were torn and soaked in blood. Veins stuck out of the wound. A few had ripped while most remained in tact, like a sign of his bittersweet luck.
It almost destroyed my leg, but missed the arteries.
Bone showed in a few spots and blood streamed. Jack put pressure on that injury and turned his attention to other matters.
Finally, I get to see what’s in those damn chests, he thought, catching a glimpse of Hunter’s gaze. You were right, old man: the sorcerers don’t play around with the deadmen that guard their treasure.
Though it’s kind of weird that they caged so many of the creatures just to call on that one demented child.
Hunter clapped once.
Thanks for the applause, Jack approached the chests, walking around the dozens of cages.
The skeletal dead started clattering and the red dead snapped its head up, sirening.
Jack panicked from the sudden onslaught of sounds and backed off, hurting his leg. Then, he growled. Oh, what now?!
Clicks and creaks sounded in front of him as all but two cages on the Travelling Arena opened.
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***
This is getting annoying, but alright -- I don’t mind destroying you all. Jack backed away past five tiles until he got himself into a good position. You’ll just make victory better.
Seven deadmen climbed out of their cages: three went straight after Jack while four stayed behind, grabbing bones they’d been sitting on and chucking them at him.
Jack dodged the projectiles, jerking his head.
You’re getting creative, I see!
A sharp stone soared an inch past his face.
He recoiled and anger gripped him. Enough!
The deadmen arrived in front of Jack, forming a line.
Right, listen to the rules of your dumb game.
It doesn’t even do anything to me when I break them, so what’s their purpose?
And who goes first?
One of the deads moved in for an attack, jumping at Jack, grabbing his arms and kicking his injured leg.
Jack panicked inside then got himself away from the creature by mauling its face and slashing its guts.
They exploded, ashes flew everywhere and a child-sized hole appeared in the deads chest.
Jack was blasted to another tile by the shockwave of his attack, tumbling and screaming at the pain coming from his bloody leg.
The caged, red dead snapped its head and sirened. The tiles around Jack popped open and chains emerged out of the holes under them. The chains twisted and writhed until they were tight around his legs.
What is this?! Jack tried getting out, slashing the metal, then rubbing it together, then sticking his dagger to break it apart. Nothing worked. The chains raised him to his feet and remained there, not letting him run.
He slapped his forehead in realization. So this is what happens when I break the rules -- they force themselves upon me.
I’m a fool and a clown, he eyed Hunter. Maybe that’d be different if you helped!
I understand I’m serving you and we’re not on the most agreeable terms, but your judgmental staring is screwing you as much as it is me. You’re losing valuable time and giving me a chance of dying just to prove a point?!
Yes, I follow a deal, but that doesn’t mean we’re not supposed to be a team. You’ve got my trust like no one else, you taught me all these lessons -- we’re supposed to work together!
***
Jack growled then turned his attention back to the deadman in front.
The creature started by clawing and tugging Jack’s arm. After half a minute, it changed its attack and tried to rip his skin off.
Jack sluggishly fought back. Every second he tried to move, dodge or dash and every second the chains clunked, keeping him in place.
Damn everything like a bascalle
The dead reached his face and its fingers tried to slither up his mouth.
Now, Jack focused, fighting back with all he had. He sliced the dead’s hands off, turning them into deflated skin balloons, and shoved his dagger into its mouth so it couldn’t bite.
After a minute of the struggle, the dead backed away, letting another take its place.
If this game and its rules didn’t exist, you could all attack me at the same time.
Huh, for once the game’s got a purpose.
But most importantly -- how is it not my turn yet!?!
Jack blindly slashed with his dagger. Not only did he miss, but his bloodied fingers slipped and dropped the weapon.
Okay. This… this takes the crown as the biggest bullshit of my life!
The dead slumbed to Jack, swiped his cheek with sharp fingers, leaving a few shallow scratches, but then backed off. It’s dead eyes shined with a bit of life as it picked his dagger up.
No, no, no, Jack’s jaw dropped and he went into a frantic mode This is a demented game and I don’t like it!
The dead sliced his already injured leg, swiped his face and stabbed his chest. Then, it grinned, showing a rotten tooth, fumbled the dagger and dropped it on its own leg.
Blood ran down Jack’s face and he heaved through the amalgamation of pain and anger. Yet, he couldn’t help, but laugh at the crimson cloud rising up in front and the creature falling on its back in amazement.
As the Pathfinder arrived, Hunter walked away from the creature, closer to the Travelling Arena. Still, he just observed the game with a blank face and let the smoke rise from his mouth. Indeed, he could probably beat every deadman there and get the loot before Jack began to understand what was happening. But he only watched.
Jack became angrier from the old man’s stare than from being locked in chains and getting attacked by dozens of deads.
You won’t hear me begging for help! You’ll just see me get that loot, destroy every deadman and every Everia’s servant there is!
The chains around Jack’s legs loosened and writhed back into the pits beside him.
Jack was relieved, his legs felt like he’d downed a potion and the feeling inside drove him forward. He grabbed his dagger and--in one jump spin--slashed two deads’ necks. They combusted into flames, charring the creatures.
The chains on the ground started wriggling to Jack again, but he didn’t wait and dashed at the bone-throwers. He’d forgotten about those four deads who’d stayed behind: they had stopped throwing bones. Well, until Jack stopped following the game’s. Then, they became vicious.
Jack jumped from side to side and put a hand on his head to cover himself from shrapnel. Once he reached the deads, he jumped and glided his dagger into the top of a bone-throwers head.
It exploded and the shockwave toppled the dead over.
Jack kicked another bone thrower and sliced it while it had no balance, turned and slashed another’s both wrists, and jumped atop the last one. He pummeled it with stabs and slices until a small pile of crimson was the only thing in his grip; until his ears rung from explosions.
Jack’s anger faded and he breathed a sigh of relief, turning towards the chests.
“Don’t be so eager,” Hunter said. “You didn’t follow the rules -- you don’t get to see the loot yet.”
“How am I supposed to follow a thing I don’t even understand?! And what do they have to send after--”
“Sure, sure… You see it.”
The skeletal and the red dead were still locked in cages. And the text on the statue had stopped shifting.
Oh… Please don’t be what I think you are..
The base of the statue cracked. The cages opened. The stone creature jumped, landing beside the deads and shook the whole Travelling Arena.
One last round, eh? Jack cracked his neck, though fear had already started forming inside him.