The squad of four took up their positions, with the former arena champion taking his place in the vanguard. He would act as the tip of their spear, taking the brunt of any attacks from the enemy while Spurius, Paulus, and Apollonius attacked from the flanks. They had removed their shields, slinging the bronze embossed wooden disks over their backs, an action that allowed them to place more power into their thrust, as well as additional reach.

While the other three were prepping themselves for the coming fight, the youth who led them focused his sight upon his fists, the same ritual he would do before every fight, just like his teacher taught him. Little by little his breath came under control, a steady rhythm, in and out. He could not see it, but his pupils began to dilate, a dim copper glow around the outer edges, the tension in his muscles dissipating, his shoulders coming to rest. The anxiety that had been gnawing away had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, the fear gone, it was noticeable in the way he held himself, and the calmness of his breath.

Barely perceptible to the naked eye was a very thin layer of light below the surface of his skin. The image would have been very similar to the opponent opposite him, however unlike the enemy's vicious, bloody, and oppressive atmosphere; his exuded a feeling of calm, resolution, and dedication. Those feelings were being suppressed by the opposing force, but it was enough that the signs of nervousness, the shivering, sweating, and heavy breathing from the other three lessened in his presence.

It was at this moment, the moment that the aura exuded from the champion calmed his companions that the signal came; a single oddly shaped arrow soared through the air. The arrow appeared similar to a practice arrow, one with a padded front. However, instead of cloth a small, rounded clay object was set as the arrowhead. Only Apollonius seemed to understand what the device was or could have been, a wide smirk graced his lips as he watched the projectile arc towards the giant. His laugh was uncontrollable, the only word he could murmur between fits of laughter was Mera, the name of his sister, also known throughout the camp as the Little Witch.

A moniker that was once again proven to be justified, thinking this was another ploy or joke, Menos simply smashed the projectile midair with a well-placed smack. As could be expected the clay pot shattered under the force of the blow, leaving nothing but a shattered arrow and some liquid that resembled oil if not a slight hue darker. The giant roared with laughter, his eyes focused on the archers behind the makeshift wagon wall, expecting the flaming arrow that would ignite the liquid at his feet.

Yet no flaming arrow followed, instead Menos glanced around in all directions waiting for something, instead he received more of the same treatment. This time instead of all twenty archers firing continuously to keep the giant suppressed, they were broken into four groups of five. Two groups of archers and two groups of peltasts, the archers would fire one after the other, ensuring there was as minimal gap as possible between volleys. The peltasts armed with a pair of javelins on the other hand were slowly rallying on either end of the wagon circle, outside the protective walls and waiting for their time to strike.

However, the decrease in projectiles resulted in more breathing room for the wounded Menos. He knew it was only a matter of time until the energy sustaining him would be exhausted. With the enemy bombardment lessened, he would take the opportunity to strike, cut down the one’s who mattered and then return to even the score against those who had insulted him. With cleaver in hand, he took one step after another, his blade easily cutting down the thinner groupings of projectiles. When he took his third step something changed, he failed to swat two of the arrows and they instead struck his body. Neither was lethal, but one managed to push through and penetrate his shoulder, with around half of the shaft entering the wound.

That was not the worst of it, the worst was the unseen enemy, dark crimson, almost blackish blood flowed from his nose and eyes. The areas around his wounds began to fester, turning purple and leaking blood and pus. He began to cough uncontrollably, his throat swelling to twice its size, and it was noticeable, Menos's increasingly labored breaths. His widened eyes depicted the fear he was feeling, unaware of what was happening, oblivious to the cause of his suffering.

“What did she do?” The young champion could not help but ask Apollonius the question that was rumbling within his mind. As soon as the giant fell to one knee, bleeding from every pore, it was impossible not to draw parallels with the bitter water he had received from Mera the previous afternoon. This thought was only reinforced following Apollonius’s laughter regarding the strange clay pot arrow.

“I don’t honestly know; I don’t understand half the things my sister talks about in our forest excursions. I can only assume she has been working on something around the clock, right before you woke up, we collected some especially dangerous ingredients. Safe to assume my insane little sister whipped up some horrifying toxin in that makeshift lab of hers… I’m certain the Lord will be praise her for it… and I can’t really deny it’s value at this moment… Anyway, we should probably get going now, he looks weak enough.” Although Apollonius was right about the weakness of the enemy, the champion was aware of the tenacity of someone in such a position. He did not rush and informed the others to always keep their guard up, as they couldn’t be sure if enemy reinforcements would appear.

As if on cue the two groups of peltasts moved in, spreading out from either side of the wagon fortress like the wings of a crane. Menos was down on one knee, his body refusing to respond, tearing itself apart as the poison negated and combated whatever power it was that sustained him. Any normal human would have been long dead, in fact they would have been dead within seconds of contact with the tasteless, and formless poison. Menos however was no normal human, all his actions until this point had proven that fact.

Those in the Temrenosian camp were not about to take chances, the peltasts unloaded their projectiles at the same moment, from both right and left, leaving no room to maneuver. It would not have mattered as in his current condition it was unlikely that he could even lift his blade in response.

“GET BACK!” The champion yelled towards the peltasts, they were momentarily torn between their orders and the screaming youth. That hesitation killed two of the soldiers, a man and woman seconds later. Standing above the disfigured corpses was a form that was barely human.

Seconds before the javelins struck, Menos inserted a small black pill into his mouth, and barely able to bite down with the swelling around his throat. However, through sheer force of will he succeeded, and although the first volley struck; the javelins skewering his body from all directions, it didn’t kill him immediately. It was at this moment that the young champion yelled out to the soldiers ordering their retreat, it was also at this time that Menos’s body swelled further, boiling with heat. His skin turned bright red, with the air around his body visibly fluctuating.

Whatever mental faculties he had were gone, more akin to a raging animal as he pounced upon the two peltasts ripping them limb from limb in seconds. Large chunks of flesh sizzled in his outstretched jaws, but whatever had given him this power was also destroying his body in the process. With each movement some pieces of skin would melt away, sloughing off and falling to the ground below.

“COME ON YOU UGLY BASTARD! COME AND GET A TASTE!” It was obvious to the champion what would happen if the creature was able to run rampant within the group of peltasts who were lightly armed and armored. Without a shield they had no chance of defending against even a single strike.

The eyes of the giant zeroed in on the loud thing, somewhere in its muddled mind somehow recognizing him as the ones who caused its injuries. It released a terrifying roar which left some in the surroundings frozen in fear and charged toward the champion who stood before it with shield raised. For his part the champion appeared incredibly calm all things considered, his shield held in front, weight anchored with his right leg and leading in with his left.

Then came the impact, just as the creature struck the bronze shield a thin film of muddy copper resisted its burning energy. The strike hit the shield, but with significantly less power than it would have, with much of the additional energy redirected into the earth, causing the ground in a semicircular radius to crack from the transferred power.

“Let’s see how much you enjoy this.” The champion stepped in, keeping his left foot rooted in place and leading with his right. Using the shield, he slapped the giant’s arm away leaving its chest open and allowing him to twist his body, bringing his spear to plunge deep into the creature’s abdomen. The youth let out a mighty roar as he plunged the spear deeper, steaming blood spraying all over his body in the process.

Screeching in pain, the creature managed to get away, creating some distance from the threat but losing a large chunk of flesh from its lower abdomen. At this point it was a mystery how the giant was even managing to function.

As for the rest of the Temrenosian forces, they were organizing themselves to lend assistance if necessary. However, they realized they would only get in the way if an opportunity did present itself to land an arrow or javelin they would not hesitate. The creature was not too far from some of the things which inhabited the deepest darkest recesses of the Jormani forest, but here they lacked the forces and weapons necessary to deal with the threat.

For now, they would watch and provide sporadic assistance. Once the Scholar got a look at the corpse, then they could investigate and develop counter measures for possible future engagements. Now would be the time to learn and prepare.