Chapter 28

...

[Floor 4 – Day 1]

[Total Days in Trial: 117]

"Ping!"

[Floor 4 - Minimum Clear Condition:]

[Survive Until The Third Fight]

[Floor 4 – Secondary Conditions:] [Win The First Fight] - 0/1

[Win The Second Fight] - 0/1

[Condition met! – No Perk] [Temporary Perk awarded!] [Lesser Analysis] - [Granted]

"Ping!"

Temporary Perk – Presently limited to the Fourth Floor. Allows the user to access additional information about the contents of a Trial floor.

[Status]

Name: John

Attributes

Class: Disciple – Skills: 4/7

Titles:

Perks:

Strength:

15

-

Lesser Analysis

Dexterity:

16

Archery 16

Constitution:

23

Resist Poison 23

Intelligence:

10

-

Wisdom:

16 [+2]

Meditation 13

Lesser Heal 12 - (Miracle)

Wise man of the Mountains

Charisma:

11 [+0]

-

Ambitious [INACTIVE]

Adventurer's Spirit

Free

4

- - -

I opened my eyes, greeted by dim light and shadowed figures. As my lungs took in their first breath, I found that the air was hot, and it smelled strongly of iron. With just enough illumination to see outlines, I could see I was among a group of people that sat in two rows, huddled on wooden benches to either side of a dark stone tunnel. Quietly, those around me whispered, as a distant crowd of shouts and cheers muffled their conversation.

The harsh contrast of those sounds, echoed. The cheers rose and fell, much like a wave. They crested, in screams and shouts, reaching down the tunnel in an eerie way. Though I couldn't be sure what they were about, I felt that whatever the distant crowds were watching, had them enthralled.

"They're out for blood today." Across from me, a thin man spoke. I couldn't quite make out his face. In the dark, Lesser Analysis didn't seem to be working, either. "They always want a big show, at the end of the festivals." He continued. "Something that will get people all riled up."

"I heard that one of the other groups came back with a few people." Another hushed tone muttered back. A stockier figure, leaned towards us from one of the benches. "Chances are good that some of us might make it."

"How many made it back from that group?"

"About... three, I think? I heard one of the guard had lost a bet on them."

"When?"

"This morning... first round."

"Shit." The thin man leaned back, and I watched his hands clasping and unclasping in some sort of nervous tick. "Shit, shit, shit..."

"We're last to go." A heavy man announced, leaning forward to block the thin sliver of light down the tunnel. His shadow covered the line of benches, and even sitting in the dark, I felt certain he was a head and a half taller than me. "They always save the worst of it, for last."

"Some of us might make it." The hushed tone insisted. I squinted, trying to make out the stocky man. "If we work together, we can do it."

"Maybe."

That was the only reply returned.

No one else spoke. Instead, we all sat in silence. Some people seemed to be perfectly still, others seemed to be rocking back and forth slowly. One, might have even been whispering a prayer. As I tried to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I felt about my clothing, checking as best I could in the dim light. I couldn't be sure of much, but whatever I was wearing... I didn't think it was armor. It felt like thin, scratchy, fabric. Rough, almost like it had been repurposed and turned into clothing, but it used to be something else.

Reaching, I touched my back. No strap, no arrows, no bow... That wasn't a good sign.

As the sound of grinding metal came with a sudden increase in light. It was a massive metal door, I realized. Heavy, rusted, it was grinding upwards as it rose on heavy chains, opening one end of the tunnel. Immediately, and without further conversation, all around me the men who had been seated on the benches began to rise to their feet. I squinted, as some moved quickly, rushing to the front, and some moved slower, nervously shaking out their shoulders and legs. A few people even seemed to linger, hanging back to let others go ahead. Those who stopped leaned against the wall, to retch onto the dirt covered floor.

Oh... That wasn't a good sign either, I felt.

Staying in the tunnel felt like a bad idea, so I joined the moving crowd. As I did, I touched at my belt, trying to find the reassuring presence of weight I'd been growing used to. But there was no sword. There was no coin purse. There was no pouch of rations.

Nothing.

I had nothing.

No bag, no supplies, no weapons... My leather Adventuring armor was no more. Everything I'd earned on the 3rd Floor was gone, and instead, all I had was little more than dirty rags. I didn't even have shoes, I realized.

This was even worse than the 2nd Floor...

Yet, while I had found that I was presently unarmed, I noticed that there were weapons up ahead. Racks of them, in fact. Dozens of swords, clubs, shields, and spears, waited by the bright glow of daylight by the end of the tunnel. And past them, squinting as best I could manage, I could see sand.

The roar of the crowd continued to get louder, with every step.

"Oh." I whispered, as the dots started to connect.

Three fights.

Dressed in rags.

Weapons on the way in.

Crowds of people.

"Oh crap..."

The shouts and cheers seemed deafening as my eyes began adjusting to the light ahead, and I saw the massive walls of stone. Above those, all filled to the brim with figures, were rows upon rows. Thousands upon thousands of people were present there: All of them, cheering in anticipation of the coming blood.

It clicked with horrifying certainty:

This was a colosseum, and I was to be the entertainment.

I felt fear run down my spine. My days spent on the 3rd Floor had made me forget. As dangerous as some of the Quests had been, I'd grown too relaxed. Just because I hadn't used the Ambitious Title to increase the Floor's difficulty, didn't mean I couldn't die. Each new Floor I reached, could easily become my last. And now... Now, it seemed that the [Trial] was back to being ruthless.

"Just need to make it two fights, and I'll be clear. Just two fights and I'll be clear." I repeated to myself, trying to settle my breathing. Glancing back at my Status in the Menu, I looked over the numbers. "I can do this. I can do this."

Should I burn the points now?

No, I stopped that thought short. No, that was risky. I needed to see what I was up against. Then... then, I'd decide what to do with them. I'd spend them only when I needed them, and not jump the gun.

With a start, I realized I still needed to pick a weapon and I was falling further behind the group. Even those who had been slow to move, were leaving the tunnel now. Turning to the racks, my eyes dashed from row to row, searching desperately. There were only swords. Or clubs, or spears... a few weak looking shields remained, but nowhere did I spot a bow or arrows. No matter where I turned, I couldn't find one. Everything was close-range.

I cursed. My best option for combat wasn't a choice here.

What should I take? I had to fight at least two different battles to clear this Floor, and I had no idea what they were going to be against.

The obvious choice was the sword... but I was still terrible with that weapon. If I ended up against someone who knew what they were doing, I was as good as dead. I looked over a metal shield, considering it. While a shield might be useful, I had no experience with one, and the few that hadn't already been taken looked heavy. Really heavy, in fact. Taking any of those would slow me down... That left... A club? No, that would be even worse than a sword. And I still didn't even know what I would be fighting. A club might be useless...

A spear.

I grabbed one. Then, I grabbed another. And then another.

Ranged attacks. Stick em' from a distance. My brain tried to make sense of my panicked actions. A spear was basically just like a giant arrow. And I was good with arrows. I could handle that- I'd throw them, I decided. I'd take as many as I could carry, and I'd throw them. Five spears in tow, I rushed after the others, flinching as the metal gate crashed back down just as I cleared the entrance.

The roar of the crowd seemed impossibly loud, surrounding me immediately. From over ten paces up, I could see people leaning over the edge, spittle flying from their lips as they shouted. I could see banners being waved, and flags flying high with brilliant colors. Presiding above this all, a pair of golden thrones waited. The figures there stared down at me, faces too distant to see clearly. Yet, their presence was palpable. It weighed down on the air, itself.

Mana: The air was heavy, because of their Mana. Overwhelming power resided upon those thrones, and instinct told me that any effort against them, was beyond futile.

Moving on quickly, I rushed to join the rest of the people in my group. I saw most were forming in a rough circle in the center of the arena. As I reached them, I saw their eyes were watching the gates. Just like the one in which we'd all left from, there were many more iron plates. Each of them were spaced evenly around the edge of the arena.

"What do you think it'll be?" The thin man shouted. I glanced in his direction. He'd taken a sword.

"Fucking terrible!" Several people shouted back, as others answered by vomiting.

I swallowed down the urge to do the same. I didn't want to be here. Dropping the pile of shafts to the dirt, I began wedging the spears in the sand beside me, one by one. It was just like I did with arrows, I told myself. If I didn't have a quiver, I'd make do.

Carefully, I selected the most reasonable looking option from their number. Best to start strong, I decided. The weapon I choose had a solid heft to it, and had a crude tip that seemed more rust than metal. It was a wicked looking thing.

"Should have taken a shield." The large man nodded to me. He hefted a large club, ridged with iron bits. "First timers usually do better with a shield."

I nodded back, unable to formulate a response. My single point in Charisma seemed to be drawing a complete blank as Lesser Analysis triggered.

[Dzamil The 2nd - Disgraced Captain]

Disgraced, huh?

I noted the name provided as the crowd jeered at us, and our long wait continued. The boom of boos was raining down now. It seemed they weren't pleased with our being here... I assumed that was likely bad news for us. All around the arena, I eyed each of the gates. They all seemed more and more suspect: any of them could begin to open, at any moment...

Two fights... I just had to survive.

Carefully, I repositioned my hands, trying to find a comfortable way to hold the weapon. The weight felt good in my hands, even if I wasn't entirely certain what to do with it. While I wasn't much of a fighter quite yet, I would make do. I'd had managed to increase my Dexterity quite a bit while on the 3rd Floor, and that meant I could react quicker. So, even if I didn't know proper forms for a spear, I could make up for it a little bit. That, in combination with what little I knew about swords, and I had a general idea forming. I'd have good reach, at least. No sword was easily going to close distance on a spear, which might give me time to correct, or retreat, if something went wrong. I could lean on my Attributes, power my way through...

Shield or no, my choice of weapons hadn't been the worst, I felt.

The noise of the crowd intensified, as a gate began to lift. Turning to face it, all the others prepared. The rough circle we'd had, turned into a crescent. Those few people with shields moved into a rough position towards the front. It seemed those men were familiar with one another, and were going to work together.

I looked them over, trying to make sense of their plan. Each had a short sword that paired with their heavy shields. It reminded me a lot of an old history lesson I'd had when I was in school. Something about the Rome legions. Grouped together as they were, the men were a far more dangerous entity when compared to one of them alone. Together, they could hold back attackers, and then strike from behind their defended position.

Staying near them seemed like a good plan, I decided.

"Get ready." Dzamil shouted, hefting his club. In response to him, the group of those working together began to tighten their formation. Their shields overlapped as best they could. "Stay together!"

And yet, while those men seemed to be loosely following the issued orders, I saw that just as many were not.

At a rough count, I guessed there were thirty or so of us. But, of that number: only seven had actually grouped up. The rest stood off on their own. Either paired up with a single other person, or planning on fighting alone, very few of them were working as a team. I spotted just one other group, of four men with swords... they looked untrained. Even I could see, none of their stances looked confident. In fact, it almost looked like some of them planned to run, instead of fight. A couple of the men towards the back were abandoning any pretense of fighting, and just moving across the arena to get as far away from the gate as possible.

As things were, I wasn't certain what to do. There was no good answer. Running away sounded like a terrible plan, considering there was nowhere to go. I had a handful of spears, but I couldn't easily carry all of them. If I did run, I'd be leaving behind any chance of fighting with ranged weapons.

I decided I was best staying put. At least, until I knew what we were up against. If things looked bad, maybe I could run and throw. Circle back...

The gate continued to rise. More men began inching away, as I stood my ground.

"Confidence, John. Confidence..." I muttered to myself. "You've survived all sorts of terrible crap. You'll survive this, too."

The hot sun beat down on my skin, as I stood beside the shafts I'd planted in the sand. Though I was probably no better than many of those off to the side, not truly grouped in any real formation, I was still positioned in such a way that I was somewhat protected by the small group of shields up ahead. Near as I was, I could probably help them if it came down to that. Spears had good reach...

Mana seemed to empty from the air, as my breathing pattern choked. I gasped in surprise, as my eyes were drawn up to the golden thrones.

One of the crowned figures had raised a hand clad in gemstones, and the crowd had become deathly silent. Mana in the air seemed to cease, as the hush fell. Thousands upon thousands of cheers from the stands, were settled in an instant: leaving nothing but the sound that horrible, grinding, gate. As it clanged with a horrible finality, locking into place, the crowned figure's arm stayed raised.

The silence was painful.

We waited for something to happen. The men shifted, breathing in deeply as they made final adjustments to their weapons. Some moved further back, some clumped closer to others, standing alone. But regardless of who it was, all of us watched that dark entrance, peering towards what might lay within.

Standing out in the sun of a cloudless sky, the shadows of the tunnel seemed impenetrable, and I could see no hint of what was approaching. It was just as if there was a section of the wall, painted pitch black. No amount of staring could possibly help.

Then, at last, I heard the familiar tone of screeching. A horrible, shrill, sound, that grew louder by the second.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my pattern stable. Mentally, I tried to ready myself. The Mana was starting to return now, meaning I could breathe it in and claim it for myself. The figure by the throne was lowering their arm, and I could feel it returning. Yet, it was difficult to keep calm. Even as I tried to steel my mind, to ready myself for what was coming.

The doubts were a spiral, in my mind: This wasn't my element. Fighting up close and personal was not something I felt good about. I didn't have leather armor this time. I didn't have Steelbeard watching my back. And worst of all, I didn't have my bow.

As the Mana returned to the air in force, I inhaled until my lungs were set to burst, breathing out slow, trying to strip every small bit I could from the air. I felt it there, in my body, in my veins. I felt it sinking into my bones, my muscles... I was almost ready, I realized. What had come with me from the space between the Floors had been more substancial than I'd realized. Soon, I could cast a Miracle. Forcing the pattern out early, I took in another breath.

It wasn't the right way, and it wasn't sustainable, but I needed to be quick. Just a little more, and I'd have it.

My eyes were deadset on the tunnel, imagining arrows flinging towards my target. One after the next, in my mind's eye, I imagined arrows plunging into the dark, striking down the coming enemies before they knew what hit them.

I could make this shot. 100 out 100 times. I could make this shot.

Fuck...

I wished I had my bow.

"Stay together!" The large man shouted a warning. "Stay together!"

One of the undecided men standing along the edges rushed back towards our group. Skidding in behind the shields, he held his sword in a way that seemed unpracticed- even to me. Yet, the rest continued to remain as they were. I wasn't sure if they were confident in themselves when it came to combat, or if they were just hoping that everyone else would soften up the approaching enemy. As some just turned and ran, I wasn't convinced that many of them had a plan at all.

I didn't have time to worry.

The figure by the throne threw their hand down in a sudden motion, and it hit with an impact similar to a starting gun. The rush of magical energy slammed into the arena.

From the shadows of that open tunnel, the frenzy of Goblins came rushing out. Like a green-skinned horde, dozens spilled into the arena, screaming in a frenzy of rage and hunger. Their ribs seemed visible and their mouths foamed. Many even dropped to all fours, rushing like wild animals as they howled for blood.

And the crowd went wild.