《Lineage Saga (Kingdom Building Fantasy)》Chapter 15: Let the Show Begin
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The crowd this day was larger than ever before, reminiscent of a festival than a normal day in the pits. However, this was no ordinary fight, this would be the Myrmien champion’s final fight, if he one he would gain his freedom… if he lost then it would be back to the slave pens or death.
Appearing from one of four iron gates the youth waltzed onto the sandy surface, the remnants of previous battles still present upon the field. Although the boy was still that… a boy, he had long since developed to the point that he was indistinguishable from a young man half a decade older. A lifetime of conflict and training within the slave pits had resulted in a streamlined frame, devoid of any excess fat, and a musculature that appeared to be crafted from solid bronze.
Scars covered almost every inch of that body, reminders of the harsh life he had lived up until this point, born and bred within the pits. Had he been unfortunate enough to never have met his teacher the boy may never have grown to adulthood, or maybe have ended as a mindless beast, who could possibly understand the ways in which fate imposes its will on the world.
The only certainty this day was the expectation of death, today would be yet another one of these days. Understanding the desires and needs of the audience, the champion raised his spear into the air, basking in the growing chorus. His bestial bronze helm depicting the fearsome glare of a predator.
Soon it was time for the challengers to appear, one by one they entered the arena, appearing from each of the three remaining gateways. Only one of the challengers could be recognized as a gladiator, fighting with dual swords and very little protection. A style of combat designed for rapid strikes and mobility, and one which would have trouble with a weapon like the champion’s spear.
However, this fight was not a duel, there were three opponents, the odds clearly stacked in favor of the challengers. Yet the youth appeared unperturbed, choosing to simply lower his shoulders, and using the shield to limit the areas of critical importance such as the chest and neck. While his right raised the spear to be parallel to the ground, a position where a fighter might make best use of the spear and shield combination.
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The other two challengers covered for the disadvantages of the first, and for one another. Fitted with a large rectangular shield, full faced helm and short iron sword, the man was physically imposing, towering over the other two as well as the champion. But possibly the most dangerous of the three was the one who had until this point remined in the rear.
Unlike the others, he wore a simple linen tunic, yet the weapon at his side was a minuscule, capable of fitting within the palm of his hand. A sling of foreign design, with the man himself showing traits of natives from the western islands. Men who were extremely well known for their skill with the sling, said to be capable of striking a bird in flight with a single stone. Whether this was true, the champion was soon to find out, for the bell had been rung and the challengers were already coordinating their movements, attempting to box in the youngster opposing them.
Excitement from the audience was palpable, their thirst for blood obvious, the announcer had after all gotten them properly riled up in anticipation. Although they needed very little encouragement in that matter.
Caution is the word one would use to describe the initial stages of the battle, the challengers coming together as one while maintaining a distance from the Champion. Even then, a slight hesitation was noticeable in the reactions the challengers had between one another, an action that highlighted the transactional nature of their cooperation. A dynamic that could possibly lead to a gap in defenses as the fight drags on, whether the champion could hold against three equally capable combatants for that long had yet to be seen.
The large shield bearer acted as the vanguard, marching forward while obfuscating the dual sword warrior to his left and the slinger to his rear. In response their opponent the champion paced through the crumbled and decaying columns which littered the field. Maintaining distance from the opposing party while using the decorations to protect against incoming stones.
Distance between both parties rapidly closed as the challengers closed in, cutting off avenues of escape and restricting the areas in which the champion could operate. The dual sword wielder continued to remain close to the Shield bearer, while the slinger slowly pulled away, immediately beginning the process of suppressing their opponent.
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In response to the incoming hail of stones the champion lowered his body, anchoring his position to one of the nearby pillars and allowing the shield to intercept the deadly projectiles. The challengers had yet to reach the champions position when he suddenly bolted out, like a lion he came bounding towards his prey.
Unbeknownst to the opponents, a very slight gap had opened within their formation. The shield bearer had overextended, stepped too far forward while not keeping pace with the man behind, while at the same time stepping into the firing line of the slinger. Seeing this opening the champion pounced at the opportunity, rushing forward to sink his teeth into the neck of the enemy.
Noticing the danger too late, the shield bearer responded with a out of position and underpowered shield bash. The defensive attack missed completely as the champion easily sidestepped the strike, ignoring the larger man completely and instead charging toward the lightly armored dual wielder. His shield punched out, smashing the man in the face, breaking his nose, and causing him to fall onto his back yelling in pain.
This moment would not last more than a second, the champion knew that and acted quickly, before the opponent had the chance to defend himself. Like a viper rearing to strike the spear was raised and ready to pierce the downed man’s heart. Yet, the killing blow never came, instead the champion stumbled away, shaking his head in the process.
In the instance the champion had gone for the kill, the slinger had launched his attack, whether by luck or skill the projectile made contact with the bronze helm. Impacting against the front of the helm, the grazing blow left a noticeable dent and the champion dazed, possibly confused in that moment. However, not enough to dampen his instincts, even in such a state noticing the incoming attack from the shield bearer and having the wherewithal to drop to the ground; diving to the right while maintaining the shields position between himself and the opponent.
The entire exchange had lasted but a moment, a blink of the eye, and in that minute both sides had come close to ending the battle. Without the dual wielder, the slinger would be at risk and exposed before the shield bearer could reach his position. Whereas the opponents had the chance to end the champion not once, but twice in that moment.
First was the obvious sword strike that would have cleaved through the unarmored back of the champion. Yet, the momentary stun did not just expose the champion to the danger of the enemy strike alone, in fact the stone had been much closer than anyone knew to ending the fight. The slinger had made a direct hit, whether intentional or not the strike had been dangerous. A few centimeters to the right and the stone would have done more than graze the bronze helm, killing rather than concussing.
This exchange although brief had shown the danger that elements on both sides possessed. Drastically increasing the already high risks present, with fighters far more cautious, understanding that every movement or action could be their last.
The slinger began to wind up, his weapon rotating rapidly, the force holding the small, rounded stone in place. He would now be the main attacker, the other two men had already backed off, taking a defensive posture towards the champion. For his part the champion lowered himself behind his shield, maintaining vigilance toward both the slinger and the fighters.
Cheers and jeers rained down upon the fighters within the ring, round two was about to begin and the audience wanted blood. The fighters had little choice but to oblige.
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A Bored Lich
"Screw magic, I want to learn how to do cool flips and stuff." Magic is awesome, until you've studied it for centuries. Doevm reincarnates into a human to experience the path of a fighter to its fullest and swears not to rely on magic. There is only one problem, a goddess stands in his way. She pits him against both the hero and the villain for all of eternity. How will he escape this, with magic or his fists? Maybe both?
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