A beautiful dawn rose on Helwin on the day the raid was set to begin. Pink and orange painted the clouds. The red moon accented the sky, slowly fading in the morning light. The scent of the ocean floated in through the cracked open window, surrounding Dominic as he sat up in bed, unable to mask the ripples of activity that were going through the mansion’s mana.

The servants were at their duties like usual, but he could sense more presences in the house than just them. He rose from bed, dressed himself, and followed their trail.

It led to a meeting room across the hall from Thelo’s office. He knocked. A disgruntled groan leaked from the other side before Thelo’s voice rang out.

“Come in.”

Dominic opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it quietly behind him. Thelo was at a long table with several others, all mages, who were unfamiliar to him.

“I didn’t think you’d be up already,” Thelo said, rubbing his eyes.

“You were being quite noisy,” Dominic replied. “Were you hoping to finish this without me?”

Thelo pursed his lips. The mage beside him, a middle aged woman with greying hair, spoke first.

“Actually, we wanted to meet you,” she said, stepping closer. “Lord Helwin advised us to hold off until you were awake. We didn’t mean to exclude your opinion.”

Thelo probably didn’t want to reveal Dominic’s existence to anyone else until he had to. He was a valuable asset to Helwin while he was here. If anyone caught wind of it, they might try to lure him away.

Thelo rubbed his eyes, then sighed.

“Shall we start with introductions, since you’re here?” he said. “This is Yana, an earth mage sent by the king.”

Yana smiled and bowed.

“I’m Yana, and these are my subordinates. His Majesty ordered us to protect you, the heart of the operation. I’m pleased to meet you in person finally, Dominic.”

He nodded to her, then glanced down at the map on the table. It detailed the layout of the arena, a blueprint of the entire construction. It made sense that the king would send earth mages. Maylia Arena was built underground, so they’d have a huge advantage. But he’d overlooked one thing.

“I appreciate His Majesty’s good will,” Dominic said, “but I don’t need protection.”

“Pardon?” she replied. “But you’re a healer. Even if you have confidence in your skills, we should take measures in case of an emergency.”

“How many mages were sent?” he asked.

“Ten.”

He studied the map. That was enough to block all the exits.

“Then you should deal with controlling crowds at the exits,” Dominic said. “You’ll be wasting time protecting me.”

Yana looked back to the charts on the table.

“Well, you’re certainly right,” she said, “but we can’t simply leave no protection around you.”

The other mages behind her nodded in agreement.

“We cannot let the center of the entire operation act alone, without any failsafe,” she reasoned. “You may believe that it will be fine, but overconfidence has led to the downfall of many men in the past.”

She put on a slightly apologetic expression.

“Of course, I don’t mean to doubt your abilities,” she added. “However, as a person responsible for planning the operation, I cannot let you do something so risky. There is simply no room for error.”

“If you really require protection around me,” Dominic said, “then I can simply let someone else be in charge of it. You don’t need to waste your time worrying about me.”

“Who will take care of it?” Yana asked.

“Did His Majesty inform you of the situation with Count Haema?”

“He said that the soldiers would be taken care of.”

“They are the ones.”

“What?!”

“I have met them already,” Dominic explained, “so if protection is what I need, then I already have an army of soldiers behind me. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Yana slowly closed her gaping mouth, brow furrowing as she thought it over. The king had probably already guaranteed Dominic’s power to them. It still wouldn’t be easy to just let him do as he wished, though.

“…Alright,” she finally acquiesced. “We’ll modify the protection part, but the rest of the plan will proceed as scheduled.”

Dominic nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Since you’re going in alone,” Thelo said, “what were you thinking of doing, Dominic? It would be better for us to know in advance what to expect.”

He looked down at the map, tapping it in thought.

“You’ll have a good amount of freedom with how you want to deal with the people inside,” he explained. “All we need is the nobles and most of the slaves alive, and not too many civilian casualties, or else we’ll look careless.”

Yana frowned at his blunt description of it.

“Does it matter what happens to the nobles as long as they don’t die?” Dominic asked.

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He could heal anything. They’d end up physically fine no matter what. Thelo shrugged.

“As long as they can still speak,” he said. “What are you going to do about the slaves?”

“…I’ll see when the time comes.”

“Can you really manage that many at once?” Yana asked. “If any of the nobles try to cut their seals and run, you’ll be their only hope.”

“I can.”

Her expression was serious as she nodded.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Thelo swirled his finger in a circle at the map.

“We’ll let you have free reign over the arena,” he said, “so is there anything else you need?”

Dominic shook his head.

“No. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Good,” Thelo replied. “Quickly get out if there’s nothing more, then. You’re stressing me out just by being here.”

Dominic turned to Yana.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”

“No need to thank me,” she replied. “We have all been waiting for this day for a while. I will see you later tonight.”

Thelo glanced up at him.

“I’ll call you when evening falls,” he said.

Dominic nodded, and bowed to the king’s mages. He turned and left the room, moving down the hall. He was restless, but there wasn’t much he could do except wait now.

Aster fluttered to his shoulder, perching clumsily and blinking like he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“What were you guys talking about this early?” he asked, ruffling his feathers as if to shake the sleepiness off..

“The plan for tonight.”

“Is there anything for me to do?”

“No. Stay home.”

He his grip tightened slightly, claws poking into Dominic’s clothes.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“Aster.”

He looked away at the sound of his name. Dominic’s tone was serious.

“I know you’ve helped out Thelo a lot these days,” he said. “But you can’t let that success get to your head.”

He glanced over, and Aster tensed as their eyes met.

“This isn’t something you should ever want to be a part of.”

Aster looked away again, unused to being scolded.

“I’ll finish up quickly,” Dominic said, “so just stay home and wait for me. You can’t be away from your siblings all the time.”

The crow seemed to be pouting, but finally nodded.

“Okay, brother,” he replied. “I’ll wait.”

He spread his wings and fluttered up, landing on the ledge of one of the hallway windows, open to let in the cool morning air.

“So…”

He shuffled awkwardly on the sill.

“…come back safe.”

Aster disappeared in a flurry of feathers before Dominic could respond.

∞

The crowd roared. It was the usual sound that adorned Maylia Arena, and the countess, leaning a cheek on her palm, welcomed it as always.

She let out a small sigh.

“It’s a shame Lio couldn’t come,” she remarked.

Kilan Gela turned to look at her.

“I would have loved to converse with him as well,” he replied. “I only got a brief chance to speak with him when we welcomed Lord Helwin. He seemed like an agreeable man.”

He chuckled as a thought struck him.

“Though, perhaps I should thank him for being busy today,” he said. “If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t have been able to take the vacant seat beside the honorable Countess of Maylia.”

The countess smiled.

“And I wouldn’t have had the chance to enjoy the company of the renowned heir of Gela,” she replied. “I still find it a shame, though, that he has to miss today’s exhibition.”

A huge, hulking man thundered to the middle of the arena, a bludgeon in his hands. Around him, from various underground halls, emerged average, unarmed slaves—at least ten of them encircling him from afar and eyeing his figure nervously.

“It is quite the treat,” Kilan agreed. “It isn’t often there are specialty matches like this. I’m sure he would’ve enjoyed it.”

“I wonder about that a little, though,” the countess said. “I’ve found in these last few days that his taste is similar to mine. We don’t like one-sided fights.”

“But don’t you think that there’s charm in that too?” he replied. “The anticipation that perhaps the one-sided fight doesn’t turn out one-sided after all. There could be an upset, a dark horse, a sudden surprise.”

“Those do make for the more memorable arrangements,” she agreed. “Though they’re terribly hard to come across.”

“There were a couple good ones recently.”

“Perhaps Lio really was our good luck charm,” she remarked, chuckling.

“We should have persuaded him to come, regardless of how busy he was!”

They laughed, then quieted and turned their attention to the ring as a whistle sounded. A hush fell over the stadium, and the slaves began to move. They approached the huge man in the middle slowly, some remaining where they were as they tried to parse who he was, what he could do, how they could deal with him.

The man, apparently frustrated by their slow movements, took in a deep breath, wide chest ballooning out, then let it out so forcefully the sand beneath him billowed. He did it again, and again, and again, like he was charging his veins with oxygen.

The slaves around him froze, wary of his sudden action. But before they could react, he shot forward, the club in his hands swinging, targeting the person nearest to him—a thin woman who looked to be in her 30s.

“Ah, no—!”

Her scream was cut short by the sickening sound of his weapon hitting flesh. She was blown sideways, rolling across the ground limply, her arm bent in the wrong direction and several ribs undoubtedly cracked.

The crowd cheered. The remaining slaves scattered. They had expected the man to be strong, but the problem was his speed. Running was useless. He began knocking them down, one by one, until the half or so remaining could do nothing but huddle together on the far side of the ring, hoping that they would pass out or die quickly, in one hit.

“Wow,” Kilan said, “he’s quite talented. I wouldn’t have expected such skill from an arena slave.”

“Mm…well, he’s alright.”

The countess looked on, unimpressed. She had hoped at least one of the weaker ones would put up a fight, but perhaps that was asking too much.

“…Hm?”

Her eyes widened suddenly as an unexpected movement occurred on the floor. Quietly, almost undetected, a new figure in black had walked out into the arena. The hood of his cloak covered his face, but the huddled slaves could see him from up close, and they stared with slack jaws as he passed.

An intruder in the ring. This was unheard of. No rational person would throw themselves into that death trap. And strangest of all, they had walked up from the slave holding areas, not down from the stands.

“…Who’s that?” Kilan asked, trying to mask the wariness in his voice.

“I don’t know,” the countess replied. His presence felt familiar, but, at the same time, altogether strange.

Her response did little to cure Kilan’s hesitance.

“Should we be worried?”

She glanced at the intruder. He wasn’t one of her slaves, she knew that for sure. And he was too well dressed to be a random civilian. Despite the plain colors of his clothes, she could tell the material was good quality. An unconventional combination. It was impossible to predict what he was doing here.

How interesting.

She leaned back in her seat, clasping her hands together.

“Not at all, Young Master Gela,” she said.

She smiled comfortably as the hooded figure stood quietly in the sands of her arena.

“Let the show go on.”