Chapter 51: Chapter 46 – Blood Berserker

"Sad to say, prejudice against children who were born crippled still ran strong in many regions. One must wonder how those parents could have had the heart to abandon the labors of their love over some imperfections…" Netty Brünzweig, Soulweaver specialist on child psychology

 

A grand day of games were slated for the celebration of King Utgard Stahlfaust's two-hundredth birthday, and most citizens of Knallgant who were free, packed the arena to the brim, where free foods and drinks were distributed in celebration as well. The monarch himself stood proudly on the royal balcony - Cal could not really tell the family resemblance to Aelfried, but then again, she had a hard time when she had to tell one dwarf from another at times -, clad in the full regalia of his office, with his crown of steel atop his head and his baton of office in hand.

 

The celebration began with a grand musical performance by an ensemble of hundreds of musicians, who played an upbeat, glorious tune in praise of the kingdom's prosperity. Their performances were followed by various sport competitions, where competitors competed on many fields. From contests of speed where competitors raced one another, to strength where they lifted great weights and displayed their prowess, to bouts where they wrestled one another.

 

Many dwarves of scholarly pursuits also took part in the celebrations, where they offered poems, songs, as well as paintings and sculptures prepared for the occasion. Blacksmiths came and presented a grand suit of full plate armor fit for a king, while leatherworkers presented a grandly decorated belt made from a mountain wyvern's leather.

 

Games of a more gladiatorial nature followed, as chosen dwarves - well-known warriors one and all - fought against wild beasts and monsters in mortal combat. The next-to-last event of which pitted five veteran dwarves against a wyvern with its wings bound - the same sort of creature that had unwittingly ended up Cal's dinner during her travels.

 

For the final event, Roslin was scheduled to fight, and Cal saw the young half-therian woman in her combat gear for the first time. Much like herself, the young half-therian favored leathers that allowed for swift movement, and the stump that was her right arm was covered by a metal cap, from which a meter-long metal chain extended, with a spiked metal ball the size of a human head on its end. The cap itself was secured by leather straps that was bound around the woman's shoulder and torso, which firmly held it in place.

 

She had also discarded the wooden peg leg she used the night before, and the fake leg that served as her right shin and foot was replaced by one made of adamant steel, with its end formed into the head of a flanged mace, albeit a wider than usual one so as to allow her a firmer footing. Her blind left eye was covered by a green eye patch made from the scale of a large wyvern, secured by leather straps. Cal noticed the half-therian woman's tail as it wagged from side to side as she waited her turn, a sign of eagerness and excitement.

 

When Roslin walked out from the gate and raised the sword she held in her left hand - the sword was a meter long, its blade rectangular in shape, and its construction heavier and thicker than typical swords -, the crowd cheered her name, as she had already been known as Aelfried's disciple, whose name was still worshipped as a hero by many in the audience.

 

What she had to face was a cyclops - a gigantic and savage humanoid monster easily identified due to its single, large eye - that towered over twice her height - and Roslin wasn't exactly a small woman at one meter seventy-five herself - and had a crude two-meter axe in its hands. Roslin showed no fear, and instead licked her lips in excitement while she eyed the large brute that stood before her.

 

On a signal from the king, the mages who had kept the creature restrained released it from its restraints, and the cyclops launched itself in a leap and bellowed loudly as it swung its axe down towards Roslin.

 

Cal whistled in approval when Rostlin leapt away from the brutal strike with ease, the fact that she had only one arm and one leg not even the slightest bother to the young half-theriam. She used her tail as it helped keep her balanced while she moved, and swung the stump of her right arm forcefully, which sent the chained iron ball attached to it straight at the cyclops' ankle, where it struck with a loud crack.

 

The creature bent down and bellowed in pain from the hit, but Roslin wasn't done. She leaned into the force the ball carried as it rebounded, and went into a spin with it, where her sword sliced through some of the tough musculature behind the creature's ankle, while the spiked ball landed with renewed force behind the creature's knee. She then leapt away to safety as soon as her second strike landed.

 

Those striked had damaged and unbalanced the creature enough that it collapsed to one knee. It blindly sent out a wild swing in an attempt to hit whatever hurt it, but hit only thin air, as Roslin had circled behind the stupid creature by then. She crouched down, flexed her left leg - which had an extra joint compared to a human's leg - and leapt up as she sent her body into a spin. A spin that slammed the spiked ball attached to her arm against the back of the creature's waist with great force, followed by another strike from the mace at the end of her fake leg, before she bounced herself off the creature with the recoil of the strikes.

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Which turned out to have been the correct decision to make as the creature fell on its back a moment later, as it had lost control over its body below the waist. Roslin's strikes had cracked, then broken the cyclops' spinal cord, and now that the creature's head fell in front of her, she went in for the finish swiftly.

 

She burst the creature's oversized eyeball with a brutal strike from the spiked ball chained to her right arm, while her left arm brought the sword into a deep cut across the creature's throat, before she leapt away as the creature struggled on its deathbed, blinded and panicked as it choked on its own blood. Roslin watched it cautiously from a safe distance until it twitched one last time and she was certain it had expired, before she raised her sword high and gave a triumphant roar, which was welcomed by cheers from the crowd.

 

"Quick, and effective." Cal commented in approval from where she watched the fight alongside Aelfried. "First the heel, then the knee, and the spine. Methodical and efficient way to get to more vital parts when faced with large beasts."

 

"Och aye! Lil' Ros be me good lass indeed!" Boasted the old dwarf with pride. "Us next, Gie it laldy!"

 

"As you wish~" Cal replied with a grin as she cracked her knuckles.

 

The announcer had just briefed the crowd of a special event to be held, an exhibition match between their own Aelfried the Undying, against the Blood Demon of Al-Shan, when Cal and Aelfried walked out of the gate side by side, to be greeted by a deafening cheer from the crowd.

 

She had worn her leathers and usual outfit of tunic and trousers for the occasion, with four blades sheathed by her waist, while her halberd lazily rested on her shoulder.

 

Aelfried next to her had not worn much in terms of armor either. The old dwarf just wore a skirt made of strips of leather around his waist, with a plaid woolen tunic in a checkered pattern over his torso. His left forearm was clad in a metal gauntlet that had a buckler built into it, and he held a one-handed bearded axe with a spike on its back in that hand. His right arm was left bare, other than a length of chain that coiled loosely around it, which ended in a spiked metal ball much like what his disciple had attached to her arm, held loosely by the chain in his right hand.

 

They walked calmly towards the center of the arena, before they took some distance from each other, and saw that both of them sported the same huge grin on their faces. Cal had to admit, the idea of just having a good fight where she gave all she got against her opponent who would do likewise, all without potential worrisome consequences to follow, appealed to her baser instincts, that had wanted to be let loose. From the look in Aelfried's eyes, the old dwarf likely harbored the same thoughts.

 

Both of them allowed their magical energies to run rampant throughout their bodies, embraced the surge of power that arrived as they did so, and with a nod to one another, they charged and collided with a deafening noise

 

The battle that followed had the entire audience riveted to their seats in both awe and horror as the two blood archmagus struck at one another with reckless abandon.

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