Chapter 15: 15 – Duel

But it isn’t over till it’s over. A big ax rested on the bug armored adventurer’s back, he held its handle tight, ready for action in a moment’s notice. In a swift motion he brought it out and pointed it towards X. Without further acting Mitchell lunged at him closing their gap in the blink of an eye. His superhuman speed shook X to his core, impossible things had been happenings since he arrived to this bizarre world. He could swear Mitchell’s bug face flashed inches from his before swinging the two-handed ax in his direction, twisting it at the last moment hitting X with its flat surface. At the last moment he managed to turn his body sideways, sacrificing his left arm to avoid a direct hit to his upper torso. Mitchell had struck him hard enough to send him flying several feet back, wiping dirt and rocks with his body. A growing pain on his left arm and body let him know he wouldn’t withstand this kind of abuse for much longer. Bruised and bloodied he stayed down recovering sanity.

Mitchell laughed aloud while looking at the clamoring crowd and spun his gaze clockwise until it fell again on X. He had decided, before this duel took place, to take his time disciplining the putrarajado before him.

“Ah! My arm stings!” It hurt every time X tried to move his swollen limb. He sat, waiting for a second wind while he regained his composure.

Mitchell approached and with one hand grabbed X’s neck lifting him while his free hand hit his face. The elf’s body scraped the floor again and his mouth ate dirt once more. Blood flowed out from several bruises on his head and body.

How nostalgic... this iron taste...

[Are you wondering this now?]

X saw his shadow’s feet appeared behind Mitchell.

That last hit rocked his whole body, his dizzied mind fought to focus on his present reality. Laying face down over a muddied ground he tried to get up several times, but instead ended spitting his guts and blood out.

Screams and chants echoed throughout the arena.

“Guts!”

“Blood!”

“Off with his head!”

Ruianne couldn’t keep watching anymore. She wished X a quick death, an end to his torment. Every slave watching this wretched disciplining lesson shared her wish. They knew X’s fate could be their own, any small mistake or inconvenience and they’d be the next on the chopping block. The spectacle before them renewed their will to escape.

“Derreick is taking his freaking time.”

[You didn’t sound convincing.]

“Nah, he believes it alright. Problem is... he thinks he doesn't need me. Which is correct... It seems he needs... further encouragement.”

X stood up and yelled his lungs out. “Stop!”

The spectator’s uproar didn’t show signs of abating. Mitchell stopped laughing and with a smile calmed them.

“The slave claims mercy! Won’t we hear it?”

A muted audience awaited confirmation.

X pointed his middle finger towards the bug armored adventurer and shouted. “This man here... broke... You had to go and do it...”

“What?”

“Break the gentleman's agreement.”

“What? How?!”

“By being an ugly piece of shit.” X’s face contorted, a stomach pain surged and brought him to his knees. An addition to all others. He soldiered on.

A twist of events, rage grew inside Mitchell, his left foot took one step forward, ready to strike.

“Wait! I’ve not told you about your beautiful Ruianne, haven’t I?”

Mitchell froze in place.

“The female elf of House Liame didn't want you. Oh, but her curves, those melons she calls breasts, light and... Did you know she has a mole on her right butt cheek?” Those words finished riling Mitchell up. “Oops, you didn't know? How would you, you never stood a chance.”

Oh, the rumors! The spice of life! What a performance, what showmanship, such talent, to incite the masses further into a frenzy.

“Ruianne did you?!” Lady Emelda asked in disbelief.

“Of course not! I don't have one there! And... no! I- We didn’t!”

While everyone laughed and screamed in enjoyment, from his left pocket X took out a locket, complex ornaments in gold and encrusted emeralds adorned it. Masterfully crafted, it included House Liame’s crest right in the middle and a name in golden letters under it: Ariana.

“Lord Derreick!” he shouted.

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X flashed it, reflecting this morning’s light, toward Lord Derreick who thought of it a simple accessory, but on a more detailed inspection he recognized it. The Lord’s eyes grew wide.

*

Moments before, the servants and slaves from House Liame had arrived at the arena. After finding the main entrance closed, they talked to a guard and mentioned their House’s name. The guard told them Lord Derreick had stayed behind, in the combatants’ west gate. They walked inside a tunnel leading them out into the fighting grounds, a tumultuous ruckus increased with each step. At the end of the tunnel they saw their Lord’s back. After getting his attention, Lord Derreick ran towards Lumis.

“Where’s my daughter!?”

“Miaow...?”

“Where?!”

“Meowwsn’t anywhere prrn the mansion, mew thought she prrould be here meowdy...”

“The fuck have you done to my daughter!?”

“Mewwwaeon’t know! Prr, grrall meowear! Miaowelf muwest prrow, grrerday miaaght meaw prreard grrosies miaaming grrunmeeawon!”

Under duress her fluency on the human language decreased exponentially. But the Lord, used to putrajado’s verbal diarrhea, understood must of it. Her words cleared his thoughts, he didn’t second guess himself anymore.

*

Mitchell came closer to X, after his last taunt the fun of the chase ended. This elf didn’t try to fight back but still managed to irate him. He wanted him gone already. With X’s death his honor would be restored. The crowd roared. Mitchell encouraged them further with drawn out theatrics. X’s countdown began ticking as he laid on all fours, his executor before him raised his ax, measured his neck with it and readied the decapitating blow.

People looked on ecstatic. Mitchell held his ax up high, pointed towards clear skies, its sharp edge shined bright enough to blind X.

At least freaks here sharpen their bladed instruments.

X last thoughts welcomed a quick death.

The adventurer obliged by bringing down his ax in a swift swing. Sparks flew after a loud thud and then, silence. Mitchell’s swing recoiled back at him after hitting solid metal. At the last moment Lord Derreick’s sword protected X’s neck from a fatal blow. For a brief moment, time stopped.

“What’s the meaning of this!” Mitchell shouted. People previously stuck to their seats’ edge stood up and attuned their sights to the high drama being acted center stage before them. From the lowest common slave to the wealthiest citizen, including the House elites and even the Major, his wife and entourage, awaited petrified in place.

“Where’s my daughter!?” Lord Derreick nailed his sights on X. “Where is Ariana?!”

X answered his Lord’s question with a bloodied smile.

Entranced by the performers, narrative and story, human and slaves at House Liame’s suite had their eyes fixed on the hypnotic action below. Lady Emelda couldn’t believe her husband interrupted such an important duel and under the deafening roars she couldn't make out her husbands’ shouts. Ruianne used all her might to free herself from that trance like state. She remembered what X had told them about the signal; to act on weird, and word for word, weird as X behaved so were the consequences of his actions. Ruianne touched High Mountain’s shoulder and brought him back to earth. Soon after the whole VIP suite erupted in a white bright light towards the clear skies, she had casted a powerful 4th tier spell. Her own signal.

Several explosions rocked Saint Jaulea, people at the arena stood paralyzed with uncertainty. A temporary calm reigned, soon shattered by explosions at the venue’s north gate where various seats blew up, sky high, along with their human users. All hell broke loose. Between dense smoke and screams confusion prevailed, everyone ran crushing each other. The mayor and his wife retreated, escorted by knights, as did every House worth their salt. Everyone raced towards the exits, trampling over fallen citizens and slaves, trying their best to escape a deteriorating situation.

Collapsed structures alongside human flesh burned in a raging inferno. An acrid and moist haunting smell spread throughout the arena carried by strong winds. Ghastly sights formed under a thick black smoke from which battle clothed figures appeared; feralis, elves, gnomes and orcs amongst several other races.

“What the hell? Why are these putrajados here?!” Mitchell exclaimed in horror, confusion and a dark realization; they had been played. People ran past him aiming to get out as fast as possible. He looked around, numbed to his reality, his mind tried to process what his eyes could not.

Lord Derreick turned towards X as people ran past him, he didn’t find him anywhere. “Damned slaves!” While not taken by surprise, he hadn’t expected half his city to blow up. All his preparations had been for this precise moment. He knew the invading army had hit Saint Jaulea’s north gatekeepers or to be precise, the fake gatekeepers he had put in place. Amongst the burning chaos he had a couple aces yet to play, everything and everyone stood within his grasp. Containing the ongoing rebellion and reducing any further damage remained a top priority. Jetual Corps moved on to previously established positions, two shock squads battled against their enemy’s vanguard while another one helped raise the city’s barrier. The invading forces counted on the barrier staying down but if Lord Derreick’s plan succeeded, their risky operation would become a suicidal escape.

Lord Derreick shifted his sights towards his House’s suite, its roof had been blown off by Ruianne’s blast. He couldn’t see any signs of life coming from it, only a pale smoke rising up. Fearing the worst, Lord Derrick ran towards his family. Then on to join the Jetual Corps in battle and glory.

“And find that fucking elf! He’s going to suffer!”

At House Liame’s suite the Jetual knights stationed there had been ordered to apprehend Ruianne and High Mountain soon after X had lost his head. But the bizarre succession of events left them unprepared and short of time when Ruianne casted her lightning spell, frying one Corp, injuring Lady Emelda and blinding everyone else while they escaped.

Burnt flesh and screams filled the arena. Survivors looked shocked without any sense of time nor place. Ruianne and High Mountain ran, as all other slaves did, towards their designated meeting points. At those places collar suppressors worked around the clock to free high value slaves that could help tip the balance in their favor and make their mission a big success. The rest of them gathered around the suppressors, where they would be safe from their collars exploding or incapacitating them. Ruianne smiled, everything proceeded as planned. They formed four groups and began evacuating the premises.

Lagging behind, the two biggest groups found themselves cut off by Jetual Corps.

“Putrajados! If you don’t want to be gutted, on the floor, all of you! Now!” shouted a Jetual lieutenant.

“Everyone behind me! Our vanguard team will be here soon!” exclaimed a young male elf from one of their infiltrated units.

He and two suppressors put themselves between the slaves and the human squad. Too few to face the elite force before them. Their vanguard team was composed of the heavy hitters that’d protect them but they had encountered hostilities and ran behind schedule. The suppressors’ elf captain wondered how did a human elite squad had cut them off so fast. They should’ve had more free reign before human forces retaliated. But the worst was yet to come. Before their eyes a nightmare materialized, the barrier began going up.

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