The time was here. We were headed for our first proper bout in the arena. My hope here was that my Cadre all made it out alive, but that might not be possible, depending on the quality of our opponents today. It was just an unfortunate fact of life that people died in the arena. That was sort of part and parcel of the whole being a Gladiator thing. I suppose the trick was to make sure the other bastard died instead of you. It was the same with War, actually, come to think of it. What was that Patton quote? Something about wars being won by making the other dumb bastard die for his country? It didn't matter. The essence of the sentiment was the same. It was kill or be killed, and I was gonna make damn sure that we did the former instead of the latter today.
At any rate, the instructors barked orders, having each Cadre get on their own transport, which appeared to be some sort of Halftrack. Each Halftrack Transport was guarded by actual Enforcers, who were in armed versions of the transport Halftracks, complete with Multilasers in case we decided to make a break for it. It was here that I got my first good look at the Enforcers of the Antipatrid Dynasty. The Average Enforcer wore a Flak Armor Vest, Greaves, and Gauntlets with a Carapace Helmet, while Enforcer Officers seemed to wear Carapace Armor Chestplates instead of Flak. Each was emblazoned with the symbol of the Antipatrid Dynasty on the front of their vest or chestplate, a Golden Suburst in a Red Circle edged in Blue. For weapons, the average Enforcer seemed to have an Autogun, with extra clips carried in a cartridge bag attached to their belt, along with a Shock Baton and Combat Knife. Officers, meanwhile, seemed to carry some sort of Las-Pistol, though at a Glance, I couldn't tell if they were normal Las-Pistols or Hotshot Las-Pistols, but they also carried Chainswords.
There was, seemingly, an entire company of Enforcers, ready to escort our transport. I didn't understand why until the transport reached a section of Zis at a crossroads. Here, our transport met with another group of transports, being escorted by another company of Enforcers, and a Company of what looked like Antipatrid House Guards, judging by the fully-sealed Carapace Armor they wore and the Pulse Plasma Rifles they held. Idly, I wondered where the Pulse Plasma Rifles had come from, since they weren't a thing when Canon kicked off. They seemed like they would have been a lot safer to use than the glitchy plasma guns the Imperium tended to have. It was only then that I remembered that the Thramas Crusade tore through this sector in the aftermath of the Horus Heresy, chasing the Night Lords out of the Imperium, and that caused several worlds to be destroyed via Exterminatus. That was probably the reason.
However, the reason for all the security was very obviously that Lord Balthazar Antipatros, head of the Antipatrid Dynasty, was sitting in the lead transport of the small convoy that we had met up with at the intersection. The man even popped out of the lead transport, which looked like what would happen if you modified an Aurox Armored Transport from the Great Crusade-Era Solar Auxilla to be as gaudy as possible, with Red and Blue Enamel and actual Gold Ornamentation. They'd apparently removed the Multi-Laser/Heavy Stubber/Heavy Flamer Pintle Mount in favor of adding more comms equipment. While that could be seen as an attempt to turn the vehicle into a sort of command truck, I was going to bet that Lord Balthazar used it for entertainment purposes instead. I was going to guess the inside looked more like a lounge than a troop compartment, too.
Regardless, Lord Balthazar had a few words with the Commander of our own detachment and the instructors before getting back in his glorified luxury vehicle. Then we made our way out of the hive, through heavy blast doors, and out onto the plains of Zis. It was the first time I was actually seeing the outside of the Hive as we traveled South. Apparently, the Arena we were headed to was to the south of us, around eight-hundred-forty miles, or one-thousand-three-hundred-fifty kilometers in metric, and would take half of Sheol's Twenty-Six-Hour Day just to get there. Some quick math told me that it was roughly the same distance from Brest in Britanny on the Atlantic Coast of France, to Frankfurt an der Oder on the German-Polish Border back on Earth.
Of course, most of the others decided to sleep through the trip, since it was likely the last time they'd get to rest before we had to fight. I, on the other hand, kept an eye on the terrain as we traveled. To the west, the Highlands of Emar Inferior rose up around two-hundred-fifty miles or four-hundred-two kilometers away from the Hive and the Road we were on. To the East, the Glass Sea of Magna Hammaana was around three-hundred-fifty miles or five-hundred-sixty kilometers distance away from the Hive. That put the domain ruled by the Antipatrids as larger north-to-south than France back on Earth by around forty percent, though it was roughly the same size east-to-west. It was a sizable chunk of land, which made the Complex that Lord Balthazar had about it more bizarre.
From what I was given to understand, the Magids, though they controlled two hives, barely controlled a bit over half as much land. While that was good population-wise, resource-wise, the Antipatrids had to be coming out on top. It spoke to Lord Balthazar's own insecurities more than any real material need, from what I could see. Mind you, that sort of thing was probably exactly why the other Oligarch Dynasties looked down on the man. He may look like he's in the prime of his youth, but that was all juvenat treatments and cosmetic surgeries. From what Bartleby had mentioned to me about the subject during mealtimes in the mess, Lord Balthazar had been in power for going on a century now. That was enough time for him to get a reputation among the Oligarch Houses.
At any rate, the Arena was actually in the Territory of the Barcids, a Noble House known for military prowess and an exploratory zeal. They had sent multiple expeditions into the Glass Sea of Magna Hammaana, delving into outlying ruins in the crystal sands of the desert there to retrieve various technologies. Supposedly, they had not only run into the Zombies that Saphrax had mentioned as living in the Glass Sea, but had put a number of them down, even reclaiming the ruins of a pair of Pre-Fall Towns at the edge of the Glass Sea, one of which had a manufactory with a Partial STC that could create things like Flak Armor, Las-Weapons, and so on. It was because of that fact that the Barcids were considered to be hands-off by the other Oligarch Dynasties, as they were one of three sources of military technology available to Sheol, along with Trade and the smaller, less capable manufactories possessed by the hives. Without the Barcids and their reclaimed Manufactory, most of the Oligarch Dynasties would have to downsize their forces.
It made it the perfect place to put an Arena that everyone could use. Neutral Territory by agreement, like how Las Vegas was an open town for the Mafia back in the past on Old Earth. No single Mafia Family had been allowed to fuck with it, because it was just too lucrative. Accordingly, the Barcids were rolling in cash, not just from weapons sales, but also from fees taken from the gambling on the outcome of Arena Fights. The Arena itself was in an outlying town just over the Border with the Antipatrids called Zama Inferior, around ten hours' Travel from Alpha Carthago, the Hive where the Barcids had their Seat of Power, which itself was seven hours by transport from the Sea of Ahiram Nautes on the southern shore of the Continent, though from what I understood, some of that territory was also hilly and rugged, with their own Hillfolk issues. The Barcids, however, had more freedom to deal with Hillfolk, since they didn't have any external enemies aside from maybe the Zombies of the Glass Sea.
Of course, the land we were passing through on the way to Zama Inferior was less interesting. A large stretch of nothing but rolling plains, farmsteads worked by a combination of slaves, menials, and drones, depending on how wealthy the Farmers in question were, and very few major population centers. We stopped for the mid-day meal at a small Village called Gebel Majoris, at least it was small compared to the population of Zis. It had around thirty thousand or so people living in it. From the conversations I overheard while eating, its sister settlement, Gebel Minoris, had just over half that in terms of population. I would have called both large enough to be considered towns rather than villages, but Hives and Proto-Hives did tend to skew things like that. Regardless, after eating a stew of vegetables, grains, cheese, and meat, with bread and milk to wash it down, we were back on the Transports. I decided to snatch a few hours of sleep, and when I woke up, we were rolling into Zama Inferior.
As we entered the Town, I realized that Town was something of a misnomer. It was actually the size of a proper city, but again, it seemed that the Locals' perception of scale was skewed by the Hive Cities and Proto-Hive Cities that dotted Sheol's Surface. More than half a million people lived, worked, and died in Zama Inferior. That was a lot better than the next largest population center the Antipatrids had, the town of Arwad, which barely had a hair over a quarter of a million people.
"Supposedly, the Towns the Barcids have in the Glass Sea are also big. They say there are around three-hundred-thousand people living in each of them." Offered Saphrax.
"Is that true, though?" Questioned Ghazar.
"How do you mean?" Queried Milica.
"Well, it would be in the Barcids interest to inflate the numbers, wouldn't it?" Asked Ghazar.
"You mean to try and trick potential rivals? I don't think they need to. The neutrality policy keeps them free and clear from the schemes of other Oligarch Houses." I pointed out.
"Even if it's not true, and those towns have even half of that number, you could still fit my entire tribe within those two towns three times over. I've never even heard of so many people in one place before. At least, not before I came here." Frowned Theodoric.
"My home Hive was bigger. It had to be at least four times the size of Zis." Shrugged Milica.
"That's a proper hive, then. Zis very much isn't." Opined Saphrax.
"Aye, from what I hear, that's much to our Master's disappointment." Scoffed Theodoric with enough disdain that I could practically hear the air quotes around the word 'Master'.
"That's true, but for now, we need to get our heads in the game. We fight first, after all." I reminded.
"Hannibal's right. We can be snide at Lord Balthazar and awed by the size of settlements later, when we're not about to die." Agreed Milica.
"Right. I suppose you have a plan, then? Tell me we're not walking into a death match in the arena blind." Pleaded Ghazar.
"Saphrax sent Bartleby to do some digging on our foes." Informed Theodoric.
"All right, Saphrax. Let's hear it." I nodded.
"The Lysimachids have put forward a team that's almost too veteran for this bout. Kreon the Olympian and his Cadre. Kreon was a bandit leader on the World of Olympia, a fairly successful one, too, before he was betrayed. The story goes that he and his men were in the Town of Rhodope in the Badlands near the Hive City of Solis, spending loot from a recent raid on wine and women. The locals, however, drugged the wine with Blue Poppy Extract and sent for the Tyrant of Solis' guards. They arrived just as Kreon and his men were waking up, groggy and bleary from the wine. Still, Kreon took down five guards himself before the end. He was sold off to a Slave Cruiser out of Heroldar, who then sold him to Lord Yarikh Lysimachos, Heir to the Lysmichids. They say that Kreon barely needed any training. I do know that his Cadre has a record of six wins in the Arena already, four in the standard five-on-five format, one in a Battle Re-enactment, and the last against a beast. They are currently undefeated, insofar as that means anything." Explained Saphrax.
"Fantastic, that means they aren't fighting with any less veteran replacements. Someone must really have it out for us." Scowled Ghazar.
"I think the Instructors may have influenced things to give us the hardest match. Fulminus and his Cadre are known to be our rivals and known to be the Instructors' favorites." Suggested Theodoric.
"Probably. We'll just have to make sure we survive. Somehow." Hedged Milica.
"I'll do everything I can on that front." I promised.
"No, we need you taking the fight to the enemy. You're the best out of all of us here. It has to be offense for you. The rest of us should fight defensively." Insisted Ghazar.
"I hate to say it, but Ghazar's right. If anyone here can take out veteran gladiators, it's you." Added Milica.
"Just make sure you do it fast enough to matter." Grinned Theodoric.
"The best offense is a good defense, eh? Fair enough." I chuckled.
"Regarding his Kreon's Cadre, he has two Abhumans, an Ogryn, Rogg Thunderhand, and a Horse-type Beastman, Baalhippus. Rogg has the standard Ogryn traits, but is a tad smarter than average for an Ogryn. They say that some Red Robe pumped his brain full of chemicals, and he's now capable of actual tactics. Meanwhile, Baalhippus is a bit faster than baseline for a human, even if he's not actually any stronger than a baseline human, like some types of Beastmen can be. Rogg uses a two-handed sword like a one-handed sword, while Baalhippus uses a long knife and a Revolver Stub-Pistol." Informed Saphrax.
Rogg sounded like he'd gotten some variant of the Bonehead Process done to him before being sold. From what I remembered, there was both a chip version and a biochemical enhancement version of that. That makes two potential enemies to watch out for. Baalhippus being fast wasn't that big a deal for me, though. If he were only a bit faster than a baseline human could be, I could use my various energies to not only match his speed, but exceed it. Still, it did mean I'd have to kill him as a priority, since I doubted any of my Cadre Mates would be quick enough to deal with that sort of speed.
"What about the other members of Kreon's Cadre?" Questioned Milica, drawing me back to the conversation.
"That would be Etienne and Claudette Rochambeau. Twins from a Knight House on Solitude that was attacked from three sides by rivals and destroyed. Both got sold off, but Claudette picked up a scar across the bridge of her nose that meant she wasn't exactly in demand as a body or domestic slave. However, since Claudette was trained in Solitude's native dueling style among the noble houses, and Etienne was trained as a Musketeer, both were sold to the Lysmiachids for the Arena. Claudette uses a one-handed mono-edged sidesword blade with a matching parrying dagger, and Etienne uses a pump-action Stub-Shotgun. Both are good at covering each other's flanks, along with those of their Cadre-mates." Explained Saphrax.
"Right. Nobles from a world where they were expected to fight. Makes sense." Opined Ghazar.
"That the nobles here on Sheol do not fight is a great shame." Frowned Theodoric.
"We can handle it. What about the surprise beast that the Magids are bringing? Did Bartleby manage to get anything about that?" I queried.
"No. Unfortunately, Lord Balthazar's hatred toward the Magids means his normal sources of information are less effective in getting news out of Magid territory." Refuted Saphrax.
"So we know nothing about it?" I asked.
"Afraid not. It could be a few things, and Bartleby wasn't able to narrow it down beyond saying it could be an Ambull, a Baalite Fire Scorpion, or a Silkava Gar." Shrugged Saphrax.
"Right, so it's something that's strong and durable no matter what." I mused.
"None are really that fast, though." Offered Milica.
"So we should be able to kill it with hit-and-run tactics if we have to. That is good." Nodded Theodoric.
"If we even have to fight it, that is. We could be dead, or just not considered for the match, even if we survive." Pointed out Ghazar.
"It's good to have a plan in either case." Remarked Saphrax.
However, soon enough, the Transport slowed down, pulling up to the Arena. I frowned, looking out of the viewports to see another quartet of Nobles standing on the steps leading up to the Arena, flanked by Household Guards as Lord Baltazar, himself flanked by Household Guards, stepped up to join them. Apparently, each Oligarchic House Head would only be allowed two Household Guards as a bodyguard, with the rest of their troops being quartered in the Town itself. If the others had anywhere close to what Lord Balthazar had brought, that meant around three Regiments worth of Enforcers and Household Guards would have joined whatever troops the Barcids had in town. Just for this occasion. That sort of careless display of power and wealth seemed a gross waste of resources, especially with a desert full of Zombies and Highlands full of Hostile Hillfolk that they could be used against. As I refocused on the Nobles, I looked at each of them, trying to figure out who was who.
The First, looking very smug and at whom Lord Balthazar was shooting venomous glances at, was a Bald Man with a frame that looked like it had once been muscular but had since gone to seed, resulting in a paunch. His Household Guards were armed similarly to Lord Baltazar's, but their armor bore the sigil of a Green Palm Tree in a White Circle, edged in Black. That had to be Lord Anteaus Mago, head of the Magid Dynasty of the Twin Hives. Another was a Shifty-looking Man with a long beard that had clearly been oiled, slicked back hair, and a slight grin. His Household Guards were armed the same as the others, but their emblems were a Black Lion in a Green Circle, edged once more in black. Lord Asher Lysimachos of the Lysmachid Dynasty, I presumed. The Third was an Old Thin Man with gray hair and a gray beard, looking old even through Juvenat Treatments. His Household Guards were armed the same as the others, and bore the emblem of a Silver Horse in a Pale Yellow Circle, edged in Light Blue. Lord Himlico Battos, of the Battaid Dynasty, apparently.
The last was the only Woman standing on the steps in front of the Arena. She had a proud bearing and disciplined stance, and despite her voluminous robes, I could tell she had enough lithe muscle to be trouble in a duel. This woman needed no champion to fight for her if necessary. Her guards were armed like the others as well, but their emblems were a Gold Thunderbolt in a Wine Purple Circle, edged in black. Lady Athene Barca of the Barcid Dynasty, the Host of these Games, and the only Female Noble on Sheol to rule in her own right outside of the Eastern Continent, where such things were supposedly more common.
"I greet you, Lord Antipatros. Welcome to Zama Inferior. I trust your trip was not too stressful." Intoned Lady Barca in a tone of voice that was at once sultry and authoritative.
"Not at all, Lady Barca. Indeed, it was most pleasant." Returned Lord Balthazar.
Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear the rest of the conversation, as the Instructors and Guards soon hustled our three Cadres of Gladiators out of our respective transports and into the service entrance to the Arena. We would be ushered into cells beneath the arena and told to wait there until we were called on for our match. Each Cadre got its own cell, which was shut by force fields controlled by the Arena Guards, clad in Wine Purple, Black, and Gold Flak Armor. It wouldn't take long for us to be called up for our match. Maybe an hour and a half later, the force field to my Cadre's Cell was powered down, and a Guard came and got us, bringing our weapons to us as he did so.
Then, we were marched to an elevator to enter the Arena for our fight. As we did, I caught a glimpse of Fulminus in his Cadre's cell. The Bastard was grinning at us from ear to ear, waving goodbye as he did so with a cheeky look. I wanted to strangle the man, but refrained. He would get his eventually. It just wasn't the time yet. Besides, I figured I ought to save my energy for the Arena fight.
I would need it if my Cadre were going to all survive, after all. . .
XXXX
The Arena Floor itself was a mix of oddly modern and ancient sensibilities. For one thing, the Floor was covered in sand, like you might see from an arena out of Ancient Rome, but the Crowds were hidden behind transparent force fields. At the same time, the lights and stands that were set up around the place were unmistakably similar to something you might see in a modern Sports Stadium back in my Old Life on Earth. There was even a far-future take on a Jumbotron hanging from the ceiling and showing a feed of what was going on past the force-field, just in case people in the cheap seats couldn't see. After all, if the mob couldn't see the circuses, then they'd be less likely to be pacified by just the bread. Couldn't have folks going without their daily dose of blood sport, now could we? That just wouldn't do.
I snorted as I thought of that, but quickly focused up as our opponents entered the arena. Kreon's Cadre was pretty much just how I'd imagined them. Clad in Gladiatorial Leathers that had been reinforced with bits of metal. Kreon himself was big, around seven feet tall, and built of solid muscle, with tattoos running across his arms. He was so big that I could almost imagine him being part-Ogryn, but I had no idea whether Ogryns even could have kids with baseline humans. They were stable enough genetically, but I wasn't sure if an Ogryn Male wouldn't kill a baseline Human female if he tried. After all, if things were proportionate, they'd have to be very careful, and careful was not a word that described most Ogryn. It might have to go the other way around if it was gonna work out.
Shaking my head, I spotted my first target while the Arena Announcer went through his spiel and gave the spectators time to finish placing their bets. Baalhippus was easy to spot, between the horselike snout and the cloven hooves. As was Rogg, given he was the only Ogryn on the field, though for an Ogryn, he was pretty small. Closer to nine feet than the full ten, it seemed, and missing an eye, covered by an eyepatch. Claudette and Etienne Rochambeau were on the flanks of the enemy formation. Claudette's short, white hair made her look like some sort of prototype for the Sororitas, even though that wasn't a thing in this time, and might not be a thing ever if I had any say. Meanwhile, Etienne's hair was blonde and pulled into a ponytail like some sort of swashbuckler.
"You had bad luck to draw us. We're the most experienced team in the Arena today." Called out Kreon.
"We'll see." I shrugged.
"Your confidence is good, though it is misplaced. Whatever Gods you pray to must have a sick sense of humor. You lot are going to die. You might want to just accept that." Pressed Kreon.
"You might be surprised." I retorted.
"If that's your answer, then I will enjoy dismantling your cadre of rookies and watching the confidence leave you." Scoffed Kreon.
"I take no pleasure in what I'm about to do to you folks. Nobody here wants to be a Gladiator, after all. We need to kill you to survive, that's all." I intoned.
"You little Rookie shit! We'll just see how long you can keep that attitude up when we're gutting your comrades!" Spat Kreon.
"Whatever you say, Chief." I opined.
That just made Kreon even angrier, which is what I wanted. Angry squad leaders tended not to strategize so well. Especially if their opposition was a unit they believed themselves to be this much better than. For a couple more minutes, Kreon stewed in his anger, stalking back and forth as he waited for the announcer to call the beginning of the bout. Of course, the fight had already begun when he allowed himself to get wound up by a rookie like that. Eventually, however, the announcer called out that the bookies would be taking no more bets and that the match would begin when the klaxon sounded. The screen on the Jumbotron ticked down from ten, and I waited for the Horn, keeping my various energies ready to roll.
Then the starting horn sounded over the sound system, and I flooded my body with Essence, Ki, and Chi, overclocking my physical capabilities as I raced for Baalhippus. The Horse-like Beastman had already surged forward and was lining a shot up on Theodoric, who was anchoring the defensive line that my Cadre had put up when he spotted me. He swiftly switched targets and fired at me, his revolver barking as the crude, chemically-propelled slug belched forth at me. I wasn't faster than a speeding bullet just yet, mind you, but between the various energies I had coursing through me, boosting my speed, and the hasty snapshot, the bullet missed me. Instead, it slammed into the sand behind me and to my right, throwing up a spray of grit as it missed. Baalhippus wouldn't get a second shot as I reached him moments afterward.
I shouted out and brought my blade down in a vicious diagonal cut, as I put a hundred percent of my body's strength into the attack, backed by Essence, Ki, and Chi in an approximation of the Hungry Tiger Technique used by the Solar Exalted. Baalhippus brought his fighting knife up, trying to dodge backward, but I pressed forward with speed that just barely eclipsed his own, and my blade bit into his shoulder. The Horselike Beastman let out a braying whine of pain as my cut carved his pistol arm off at the shoulder, his eyes widening in panic as he lashed out with his dagger, only for me to kick him away toward Etienne Rochembeau, who had spotted his comrade's problem and racked a slug into his shotgun. His Shotgun fired even as I kicked Baalhippus at him, the slug tearing a gouge into Baalhippus' spine as he served as a Human shield for me. I raced forward toward Etienne, only for his sister to leap toward me, parrying my quick cut as she did so.
Sparks flew off our blades as gunfire rang out from our lines, Saphrax putting two bullets downrange. Etienne fell to the bullets, punching through his right thigh and left shoulder, even as Claudette moved to riposte with her blade. The mono-edged sidesword grazed the tip of my nose as I jerked back, cutting a slight line of blood into it as it did so. I avoided most of the cut, however, and Claudette was forced to use both her blades to parry the cut, which even then, sent her to one knee from the power behind the blow. I was still using most of my energies to boost my speed, though, and could feed a lot more energy into my strength if I needed to. However, instead of doing that, I launched a front snap kick into Claudette's chin that snapped her head back and snapped her neck between the second and third vertebrae, killing her instantly.
"Bastard!" Spat Etienne, racking a slug into his shotgun and firing at my legs from his prone position.
I was already leaping up into the air as he reloaded, however. His slug sailed underneath me as I leaped toward where Milica and Theodoric had engaged Rorg, near where Saphrax and Ghazar were facing off against Kreon. Ghazar was down, having had his right leg hamstrung by Kreon, and Saphrax's nose was also busted from an off-hand punch that had squashed it flat. Both had been disarmed of their pistols, but Saphrax was holding his own with his fighting knife despite his bloody nose, which was leaking into the sand like a busted pipe. Saphrax just refused to allow Kreon to gain the space he needed to use the longer reach of his blade versus Saphrax's knife. I would heal everyone in between fights with Path of Healing, so I wasn't worried about wounds so long as they weren't fatal. For now, though, Milica and Theodoric needed my help. They were stalemating the Ogryn, but only barely, and only because Milica kept fading into Rorg's blind spot from the lack of a left eye, and forcing him to redirect focus. Theodoric, meanwhile, had taken a graze to his right arm from a near miss, and as I soared through the air toward Rorg, the Ogryn lashed out at Milica with a frying pan-sized hand and smashed my Nightsider comrade in the side of the head with a backhand.
Milica screamed as the blow sent her to the ground, the power behind it messing with the delicate mechanisms of her ear that handled her echolocation. We'd have to work on defending against that sort of thing in the future, but as I landed behind Rorg with a shout, I didn't exactly have time to do anything but surge energy into boosting strength and bring my blade up in a parry as Rorg wheeled about with a vicious slash of his greatsword that would have carved a normal man in twain. Despite his Bonehead enhancement, I could see confusion etching itself across the Ogryn's face as someone who shouldn't have been able to parry his strike had done so. His off-hand lashed out at my face next, in a punch that was clearly intended to do something similar to what Rorg had done to Milica, but I ducked it, and launched a low roundhouse kick at his tree trunk-sized right leg, aiming for the knee as I did so. My enhanced kick thundered into the Rorg's right knee, and he let out a grunt of pain. As he brought his blade back around, I backflipped away, launching a backflip kick into his elbow as I did so in an attempt to disarm the Ogryn.
Unfortunately, it didn't work. Rorg kept a hold of his Greatsword, barely. And as I landed in the sand in a crouch, I looked around at the battlefield. Etienne had passed out from blood loss, and Milica had sat up, dazed as she held her wounded and bloody ear. Saphrax, meanwhile, was being pushed back by Kreon, and I wasn't sure how much longer he could keep fighting against the Veteran. As I watched, however, Saphrax mistimed a dodge and wound up getting cut across the upper arm of his knife-hand. He transferred his blade to his left hand as his dominant right hung low, out of action and bleeding, but I knew he wouldn't last long. turning toward Theodoric, I motioned at him with my head, gesturing toward Saphrax with my off hand. He nodded once, then moved to back Saphrax up.
"Ya sent off yer only help? Why'd ya do that?" Questioned Rorg.
"Because I can handle you myself." I responded.
"Ya can, can ya?" Queried Rorg.
"You didn't think I was just some guy, did you? Would I have done as well as I have been if I were?" I asked.
"It don't matter none. I'll still carve ya up like a ham." Scoffed Rorg.
"Come on then, I'm right here." I taunted.
Then, with a shout, Rorg charged, his tree trunk-like legs throwing up clouds of sand as they pumped across the arena. I flooded my body with more of my various energies, the fight narrowing to this as I did so. I was only using Essence, Chi, and Ki, of course. I would save my internal reserves of Atum and Cosmo for whatever the Magid beast wound up being, since I was pretty sure that we'd be sent to fight it. As Rorg came in, I leaped up, pulling the same stunt I had pulled in my first bout with Stump all those weeks ago, landing on the false edge of the blade and rushing up the spine of the weapon before leaping off, flipping around, and lashing out with my blade. The acrobatic cut split Rorg's thick skull, though the blade cracked in the process, finally having been put through more than it was designed to handle, given the beyond baseline-human power that it had been swung with and forced to parry. As Rorg fell to the sands, his chemically-enhanced brain leaking out of his skull, I made my way over to where Claudette Rochembaud had fallen. Once there, I scooped up her fallen sidesword and felt the balance. It was much better than what I'd had before, with a monomolecular edge, though it wasn't my preferred type of blade.
"I think I'll keep this, unless Kreon's is better." I mused, before making my way over toward where Kreon and my comrades were fighting.
By now, both Theodoric and Saphrax had picked up other wounds, Saphrax going down to one knee from a hamstring cut, while Theodoric had taken a cut to the face across the bridge of his nose. Neither would be able to keep the fight up much longer. Thankfully, as I made my way over to the fighting, I drew their attention, motioning for them to back away. As they did so, Kreon frowned, loudly wondering where they were headed, before I cleared my throat to draw his attention. As he turned around, he saw the rest of his Cadre had been slain, and glared at me.
"You'll die for that." Spat Kreon.
"I don't think so." I refuted.
"No, I mean it. I'll kill you, then I'll finish off your friends. It won't be hard, they're all already wounded." Threatened Kreon.
"You won't do that by talking me to death." I taunted.
"Bastard!" Roared Kreon.
"Why does everyone keep saying that? I know exactly who both my parents were, thank you very much." I snarked.
And with that, Kreon let out a war cry, charging forward with his blade in a flurry of slashes. No movement was wasted in any of them, even despite his clear anger and the length of the bout already. All the same, I worked my looted blade in a net of parries, parrying each slash, cut, and thrust as they came. Kreon struck high, low, high, working his way with strikes at targets up and down my body, and I parried and dodged all of them. As he pressed forward, I gave ground, calmly, confidently, self-assured of victory. Honestly, I didn't need Kreon to see how outclassed he was. No, this display was for the Instructors that I knew were in the Stands watching. I was trying to show them that I was better than their favorite. If I could do that, then the same favor that had gotten Fulminus his better weaponry could be used by me to surreptitiously prepare for our escape. Kreon was, in a sense, just collateral damage to that goal.
Eventually, however, Kreon tired himself out, even with the efficiency of his attacks. I, on the other hand, was running off Chi, Ki, and Essence and had yet to truly tap into physical power. It was in the split second when Kreon tried to back off and recover his guard that I struck. My blade flashed out in a rising cut, biting into the wrist of Kreon's swordarm. My blow laid his arm open to the bone, and then the monomolecular edge sawed into the bone, passing through it with ease between the edge and my powered cut. His blade, with the hand attached to it, flew in one direction as Kreon himself stumbled in the other, screaming in pain and clutching the bloody stump of a wrist that was pumping blood out onto the sands. As he screamed, I nodded at him.
"It seems like you're not the one who'll be killing me today." I mused.
There was no response, just more screaming. A bit miffed that he hadn't picked up on my cool line, and with my own friends still wounded and in need of healing, I opted to finish the fight instead of trying to repeat myself. I cut out with my blade, sawing through his throat, killing him. Then, moving over toward the downed form of Etienne Rochembeau, who had regained consciousness after passing out briefly and who was trying to rack a shell into his shotgun one-handed, I cut out with my stolen blade, knocking the pump-action stub-weapon out of his weakened grip. I placed his sister's sidesword against his neck and looked up at the stands, toward the box where I knew Lady Barca was sitting.
She rose from her seat and made her way over to the edge of the box. For a moment, she had a pensive look on her face as if making her decision, then nodded once. The nod, in this context, on Sheol, meant yes, you should kill him. With that, Etienne's fate was sealed, and I carved into the back of Etienne's neck, severing his spine in the same place I had done for his sister, killing him. Once that had happened, Lady Barca sat down, and I helped Milica to her feet, Theodoric doing the same for Ghazar as we headed for the elevators. Once we were back in our cells, I immediately began healing everyone. We had just slain a veteran Gladiator Cadre with better equipment and a lot more experience, after all.
I very much doubted that we wouldn't be facing the Magid Creature after that display. . .
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AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. I initially wanted to break it up between the journey to Zama Inferior and the actual fight, since this was going pretty long, but I promised you guys some action in this chapter and decided it would be rude not to deliver. Even though the chapter is already over six and a half thousand words long. Regardless, Hannibal's Cadre has won its first Gladiatorial Match, and against an opponent that everyone thought would make quick work of them. They didn't come out unscathed, of course, everyone got wounded to some degree, even Hannibal, who took a minor cosmetic flesh wound to the nose, but that's what Path of Healing is for. Besides, Hannibal is a Perpetual anyway, so he healed through passive regeneration before the fight even ended.
At any rate, the next chapter will be an interlude showing the other fights, along with the Nobles in the Oligarch Box. Then we'll be back with Hannibal for the Magid Beast Fight. I'll also have a character sheet update and a few more images out before then as well.
Stay tuned