††† Siegfried †††

Sally recounted how she had followed her fellow enforcer and Samuel— the latter definitely leading the way.

“He must have been forced to betray us,” Ryden assured her. “And him being here in Victor’s Bounty can only mean that he was exiled by his people anyway.”

“You can ask him once you finished your own trials,” Kaz intermitted as Samuel walked away, swaying with every step.

“How are the match-ups being decided?” Haylee asked.

Siegfried could hear the slight tremor in her voice. She wasn’t confident in her abilities which sent a pang of anxiousness through him as well. A moment of hesitation would be all it takes to rob him of this new light in his life. There was no way he would allow that to happen. He needed to think of an assurance.

“The examiner will choose the match-ups between challengers and defenders. We’re lucky that, in our case, it will be Torg,” Kaz explained. “He’s hard but fair and experienced. Take the fight of your Nivetian friend, for example,” he nodded towards the limping winner of the last challenge. “The canine had the physical advantage of speed and natural weapons but lacked the experience that ultimately allowed the Nivetian to lure him into a trap.”

“If he had faced that lizard instead,” Kaz motioned to a scrawny, green-scaled guy at the other side of the pit, “he would not have had the inkling of a chance.”

“He doesn’t seem that intimidating compared to the canine. What race is he?” Haylee asked.

“I can’t pronounce how they call themselves, and neither can they speak our language with those overlong kissers, so we just call them lizards. Their bite is venomous, and they coat their claws into that venom before a fight. Without scaled or a though enough hide, the Nivetian would have succumbed to a few scratches. Likewise, the lizard would be helpless against Nahlid,” Kaz pointed a thumb back at the grey giant.

“Nahlid’s hide is tough and thick enough to withstand the lizard's claws. It wouldn’t be a fair fight at all.”

“Makes sense,” Siegfried nodded. “I wanted to ask you about that red-skinned guy anyway. You said steel weapons are rare, but this Torg has two of them, and they don’t look like any sword I’ve ever seen.”

“Later, Siegfried. Our first fight is coming up,” Kaz said when Samuel left the pit on the opposite side. “I’ll send Sinha first, so you can get an idea of how to use your advantages in a straight-up fight,” he addressed Haylee, having picked up on her nervousness.

Sinha was the feline assassin with only one missing hand like Kaz. His build was similar to Haylee’s— lithe and sinuous.

“Watch his strategy and attack patterns.”

Sinha nodded his muzzle to Kaz and jumped into the pit, full of confidence.

Torg sighed loudly while eyeing the row of defenders that lined the ledge of the fighting pit on the opposite side. “You!” he pointed at a mountain of muscles that seemed to have segmented armour instead of skin. He looked vaguely human in proportions, but serrated grey-white plates covered every spot of his body. And he was huge, at least two heads taller than Siegfried.

Still, Sinha didn’t seem to be fazed by his enemy. When the monstrous warrior jumped down, the ground shook enough for Siegfried to feel the tremor outside of the arena.

“She’s a turtle-shell warrior,” Kaz threw in. “A nightmare to anyone who fancies a quick kill,” he winked at Haylee.

“She?” Haylle responded, flabbergasted. “That muscle monster is female?”

Before Kaz could answer, the turtle-shell drowned out any conversation with a piercing shriek. Sinha protected his ears with his arms, stumbling back in feigned injury.

The turtle-shell advanced with wide swings, each holding the weight to knock even Siegfried out but far too slow to hit the feline assassin.

Sinha evaded by a hair’s breadth, dancing around the massive female warrior while goating her into thinking she almost had him.

After the third swing, Sinha sped by his enemy to the left while raking the artificial claws across her thigh. Sparks flew from the spot he hit, and Haylee gasped.

“How is he supposed to beat that monster?” she cried. “His claws didn’t even faze her!”

“Just Watch,” Kaz intoned, not perturbed at all.

Roaring in annoyance, the female turtle-shell turned and charged Sinha again. The assassin evaded to the left side again, striking the exact same spot of her left thigh once more. A spurt of blood shot from the space between the armour plates. Sinha had weakened that spot on purpose and exploited the weakness he created.

His enemy roared in defiance and came back even more ferocious.

Sinha crouched low, viewing the charge with emotional detachment. He evaded at the last moment, but contrary to Siegfried expectation, he didn’t follow up on the thigh injury. Instead, Sinha vaulted out of reach to the side and jumped back to land on the turtle-shells back. Effortless, he rammed both his artificial and natural claws into the eyes of his opponent, ending the fight immediately.

“He could have done that from the start!” Haylee exclaimed, sounding both surprised and unbelieving.

“Yes, he could have killed her quickly,” Kaz answered slowly. “But he showed you a way to defeat an enemy that doesn’t have an obvious weak spot instead.”

Before either Siegfried or Haylee could respond, Kaz grunted in astonishment. “Why is that worthless worm here?” he spat with hatred in his voice.

Siegfried followed Kaz gaze and found the slimy form of their reptilian guide, Zschish, sitting next to Torg, whispering in his ear.

“You know that guy?” Sieg asked. “He was the one to welcome us into the mountain.”

“That’s bad,” Kaz answered. “Zschish is not a direct member of Victor’s Hand cause he’s too weak, but he is acting as his spy and thus has a lot of say in the lower levels. If you are still alive and he is here, it means that he’s not completely sold on what you showed him,” Kaz growled in annoyance. “This could get bad for you. Torg has no reason to risk his head for anyone.”

As the match was clearly over, Sieg focused on Torg. The red-skinned warrior Scrunched up his face in distaste but ultimately nodded to the slimy lizardman. A bad sign.

“Challengers and Defenders,” Torg called out with a voice like gravel. “As this is a rare situation with warriors who have already passed once, I will not throw anymore young blood before them. Kaz and his team of veterans are allowed to move on.”

A storm of curses and objections followed from the visitor’s stands.

“Shut up, you creatins!” Torg shouted, and everyone complied instantly. “It is blood you came to see and blood you will see! There are still some new warriors that have to be tested!”

At this, the crowd came alive again.

Torg looked at Zschish shortly and shook his head.

“The drakish hunter can also advance. We have no defender that could harm him.”

Sieg looked anxiously at his comrades. This was obviously a set-up to force them into showing their hand.

“I’m going first,” Sally exclaimed, hefting the enforcer’s sword. “If they want to see if we need special abilities to get further, I can prove their suspicions wrong.”

Though it seemed suicidal at best, Sieg couldn’t find the motivation to send anyone else than her.

“Are you sure, Sally?” Ryden asked cautiously. “Even with that blade, you’ll be up against something superhuman with only your sword skills to help.”

“Have a bit more faith in humanity, healer,” Sally winked. “We might not be as helpless as you think.”

With those parting words, Sally strutted into the arena. Although she could not access her ability in public, she oozed confidence in a way that Siegfried would not have had in her position.

Torg only threw the enforcer’s sword a glance and chose a lithe feline to be her enemy. The feline man was built like Haylee, including the face with no muzzle. Black, short fur covered his features, but his eyes glowed menacingly.

With a kind of speed that no human could follow, the feline charged Sally. He swiped at her torso before evading to her left in a feint.

Sally didn’t move apart from angling the sword differently.

Enraged by her lack of emotion, the defender charged again, running in a Zick-zack right before he slashed at her waist while by-passing her.

Sally didn’t try to evade but braced her sword horizontally, leaning into the attack.

The feline’s momentum forced his own body against the sharp blade. He dropped to his knees as his entrails left his body.

“Challenger wins!” Torg exclaimed.

Sieg could see the slimy lizardman grimace. Zschish was obviously here because he didn’t trust Siegfried’s group and wanted to find out their real value to report it back to the upper levels.

“I’m next!” Ryden shouted out loud. He turned to Siegfried and Haylee in a whisper, “I’ll enhance my punch. Do the same, Sieg, and we’ll play it off as a special kind of muscle training that can only be achieved by regenerating the muscles after exercise. I’ve seen something similar before. That way, we can still pose as regenerators.”

“Be careful, Ryden,” Sieg admonished him. “That slimy guy has the red-skinned one in his bag.”

Ryden just winked at Sieg and jumped into the pit.

“Siegfried,” Haylee breathed. “I’m not sure if I can do what they did,” she admitted. “I’m not used to fighting like that, and the lizard might give us harder enemies after that display.”

“I know,” Sieg answered. “I never had the idea of leaving you to fight any of them with the risk of death. I’ll think of something.”