Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Laten

A Grimy Pub In The Outer Admin Zone

“Welcome to The Back Garden Pub, how may I be of service to you today sir?” said a pretty receptionist.

“I’m crossing the desert, looking for my mountain.” Laten said depressedly.

The woman had a swift change of attitude, from relaxed to tense and nervous. 

“O-Of course sir, right this way.” She replied shakily. She then led him to a secret room, hidden in the storage area behind a few crates of potatoes. After moving aside the produce, she knocked on the door in a specific pattern, before quickly scampering away. Not long after that a deep voice echoed saying, “Life is suffering…” Laten responded with, “And death is the sweet release.” There was a pause, the man on the other side of the door was either using a mental tactic to make him nervous, or possibly checking the code book again, just to make sure there were no mistakes. The few seconds of silence felt like an eternity, but finally the man said, “Welcome Brother.” While opening the heavy door.

Behind the door was a damp and long hallway that led to a flight of downward facing stairs. After a fast descent, then a long walk that took a few twists and turns, Laten arrived in a spacious room. The room had a long table that sat under a chandelier lit by many candles. There were many people sitting, standing and walking around within the room. There were those that moved around socialising, and others that sulked in corners, or sat aloofly.

Laten took a deep breath in, before choking and coughing, the smell of wax, sweat and musk didn’t agree with his nose.

He sighed again as he slunk into the room. He sat in his chair and brooded silently, while listening in on a few conversations happening around the room.

One burly guy, with brownish-gray hair, and a clean shaven face said to his friend, “Have you heard? The Confederacy has found a few oil rich locations! Now they just have to figure out how to mine, and refine it! This could completely change the landscape of energy production.”

His companion responded with, “We’ll never buy from The Confederacy, they’re evil heretics, who do heinous things that contradict the Great Lord Misery! Moreover just the transportation, and protection costs alone is enough to make the price of their oil not worth importing. It’s much better to stick to our domestically produced, coal powered energy. It’s a lot more economical, and it makes us all but completely energy independent.”

“That sounds like a problem for people bigger than me.” Laten thought as he toned them out and decided to listen in on another conversation.

Zoning in on a scrawny guy, talking to a short man, he heard, “I got some interesting information from a merchant recently.” The short man asked, “Don’t keep me in suspense, what did you hear?” The scrawny man leaned in and said, “It seems like the Salvationists are making moves… buying horses, stocking up on supplies, and straining themselves to produce ammo. The question is now, are they clearing out their territory? Or mobilising against another nation, or maybe the unclaimed lands?” 

The short man was quiet, then slowly responded while wiping his brow, “This is big news, how the hell did a small-time merchant find out?!?!”

The scrawny guy leaned even closer and whispered, “That’s the thing, this information is reliable because… I heard it from an Atum Caravan!”

The short man’s face lost all color as he stared at the scrawny man in utter shock. Laten too was startled, and his facial expression changed drastically. The scrawny man seeing Laten’s expression quickly changed the topic, causing Laten to look for a different source of news. 

Just at that moment a large man, a little over 2 meters, lumbered into the room, and sat at the head of the table. Once people began to notice his presence, the boisterous room quickly quieted down.

The large man said loudly in a smooth and deep voice, “Greetings house heads!”

“GREETINGS GRAND CHIEF!” Everyone responded unanimously.

The grand chief then began his speech, “Welcome to the monthly meeting of The Skull Crusher tribe. There is a lot to unpack, and many things happened in the House of Anguish Grand Assembly ....”

A few hours later, Laten was trudging back towards the outskirts of the Hoa District when he suddenly heard, “COME ONE, COME ALL! COME ONE, COME ALL! COME SEE THE TITAN TAMER PERFORM IN HIS WILDEST BATTLE YET! WATCH THE TITAN TAMER FIGHT TWO OPPONENTS AT ONE TIME, THE MAN WHO HAS WON 35 LIFE AND DEATH MATCHES IN A ROW! COME WATCH HIM TONIGHT AT THE BARCI ARENA!!!”      

“The Barci Arena ….” Laten thought. The Barci Conglomerate had swiftly risen to prominence since last year. At first they only had one fighter, a kid no older than 15 years of age, who fought against some of the largest and strongest fighters around. The odds were always stacked against him, however, using a never seen before sword style, he always managed to slay his opponents.

Using the insane odds whilst gambling, as well as booking arenas and selling out all the tickets. The Barci Conglomerate, in the span of that one year, managed to expand their networth from 10 gold atums, or about $1,000 O.E., to 1,000 gold atums, or about $100,000 O.E. They even went as far as to buy a few properties on the edge of the admin zone, demolished them, and built their own stadium! The Barci Conglomerate is a true rags to riches story, and the inspiration for many budding “Slaughterfield” teams.

While reminiscing about last year, Laten couldn’t help but wince. He recalled how his daughter had come home so happy, a pouch full of gold atums. She described to me in vivid detail how Toska had fought on her behalf, getting beat near to death but prevailing. Then how a shady man came and bought Toska from her, for a price she deemed more than suitable for the product.

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At that moment it had taken everything within him to not strangle his daughter on the spot. How could she be so blind? First Toska was extremely intelligent, and obedient. Moreover he offered his savings to protect her dignity, and proposed a life or death battle to defend her honour. Where could a person find such a noble and loyal servant anywhere?!?! If none of that was enough, he managed to fight a man, a bit under twice his size, older, and stronger, and managed not only to hold his ground but to win! 

This kid was clearly a born fighter, and an amazing servant. If cultivated well, he could’ve become a pillar of the Naymore Clan! Now that’s all ruined, simply because his dumb daughter was blinded by the atums in front of her, and couldn’t see the long term benefits.

Feeling downcast, Laten decided to buy a ticket from the ad-man, and headed slowly towards Barci Arena.

When he arrived there was a long queue to get in, however, seeing as he was a “noble,” no matter how minor, he simply cut the line and entered the arena. Looking at the ticket he saw:

Premium Ticket

Seat Number:

B15   

When he looked up he saw letters in the old tongue above each row of seats, and on each seat a number was engraved. From A-D, the seats were large, cushioned and comfortable. From E and onwards the seats got worse in quality until finally in the XYZ section there were no seats, the people in that section had to stand. 

The B section was expensive, a whole gold atum! Apparently the A section seats were 2 gold atums! Since there were 10 seats in the A section, 20 in the B, 30 in the C section, and so on, one could only imagine the amount of wealth that the Barci Conglomerate racked in per match!  

Before Laten had enough time to calculate just how much they made per event, his attention was pulled towards the stage. A well dressed man walked confidently to the center of the stage, a megaphone in hand. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO BARCI ARENNNAAA! TODAY WE HAVE AN EXHILARATING MATCH PLANNED. COMING IN AT 2 METERS, AND 200 POUNDS EACH, PURE MUSCLE…. THE TWIN TIGER BROTHERS, DENOMAS AND DEODRA!!!!! ON THE OTHER END, OUR HOME CHAMPION, THE MAN YOU CAME TO SEE, A RISING STAR, A SUPER ROOKIE!!! COMING IN AT 1.7 METERS, THE TITAN TAMERRRRRRR!!!!”

At the mention of the Titan Tamer, the crowd went into a frenzy. Men and women alike yelled and screamed, “TI-TAN TA-MER! TI-TAN TA-MER! TI-TAN TA-MER!”

The host walked to the side of the arena and sat down in his seat, he then yelled over the megaphone, “For those who’ve never been here before, allow me to explain the rules. Any weapon, any tactic, any method is acceptable. The only thing that matters is that only one team can leave the arena alive! Once you step in, you’ve signed up for a life or death struggle, so prepare yourself! Enough Talk! Let the show commence!”

The surroundings quickly became quiet, two hulking figures all but towered over the Titan Tamer. Dressed sparsely in leather armour that protected their vitals, they began to taunt him. Instead of engaging in any sophistry, Tamer, dressed in a mix of black dyed leather and white cloth, his face covered with a strikingly coloured scarlet mask, simply gripped his sword with both hands and dashed forward. The twins used a variety of weapons, Deodra, had a bow and arrow with two daggers at his waist. Denomas had a one-handed sword and shield, and as soon as they saw the Tamer was in no mood to talk, Deodra immediately put distance between them, while Denomas stepped in front to face Tamer.

Tamer ran forwards towards Denomas, he then made a quick swipe towards his feet with his sword. Seeing this, Denomas took a few quick steps back, while simultaneously covering his lower body with his shield, and raising his sword for a counter-strike. Tamer, instead of backing up, rushed forward again, ramming his shoulder against the shield, causing Denomas to fall off balance. He then used the counterforce of his ram to spin counter-clockwise, aiming his sword for Denomas’s throat. This caused Denomas’s blood to run cold, he quickly dropped his shield, and lunged backwards, making him fall on his back. Just as Tamer was coming up for another strike, he quickly dodged to the right. No more than a second later an arrow whizzed directly where Tamer had been previously.  

Tamer quickly switched his target from Denomas, to Denomas’s shield. He kicked the shield to the far end of the arena, effectively disabling a large part of the opposing team's defence. Deodra continuously fired arrows at Tamer, but Tamer was patient, seemingly waiting for Deodra to run out of arrows. When Deodra had no more than four arrows left in the quiver, Tamer returned to close combat with Denomas. Making sure to always keep Denomas between himself and Deodra. Deodra becoming frustrated with the situation, switched to his daggers and dashed forward. 

As if waiting for that moment, Tamer backed up a step before piercing forth with a strike as venomous as the tail of a scorpion. Denomas quickly side-stepped and struck out with his blade, in an effort to push Tamer’s sword into the ground. However, as he slashed downwards his sword hit nothing but air. 

Tamer sped past him straight towards Deodra, his sword held high for an overhead strike. Deodra was too close to back up or evade, so he instead held his daggers in a cross position, hoping to counter or deflect the blow. But right when the blade should’ve landed on the crossed area of his daggers, it disappeared! Then it suddenly reappeared behind his daggers, at that point it was too late for him to even cry out. His face was split down the middle, as a scarlet fountain shot towards the heavens.

Denomas yelled out in anger as he swept largely with a right strike. Tamer simply dodged under it then pierced his armpit at close range. Digging his sword until it popped Denomas’s heart like a ripe tomato. Tamer leaned in close and whispered a few words to Denomas, before letting him slowly fall to the ground, and be surrounded by a pool of blood. 

The announcer yelled, “YOU’VE GOT TO SEE IT IN THE FLESH FOLKS!!! THE INFAMOUS PHANTOMMM BLADEEEE!!!!”

The crowd roared and screamed, entering a feverish state, Laten swept up by this momentum stood and yelled and shook his fists in the air as well. 

However something shocked him, when the Tamer took off his mask, there laid a familiar face.

“Toska?!?!”   

 

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