Volume 1: Arc 2: Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I was going to post a new thread right after this just for this note but I'll put it up here instead.

This is the 14th chapter already! Ok, so I've noticed that there has been a few complaints about the MC and as I stated in the comments he will get 'smarter.' I promise. The start of that change actually begins in this chapter.

Furthermore, I have noticed that only the same three or four people are posting responses to the chapters. While I don't begrudge their enthusiasm, I would appreciate more responses from the community at large. Before I post this chapter, we have on average, 580 views per chapter.

I am writing this because I think I have a story to tell and I think you guys would like that story. So, I want some interaction so I know what you guys like and don't like about the story. Already, I have had a few responses about the MC. So, please comment in the threads so I know what you guys want to remain constant in the story and what you guys want to change.

Thanks!

Unknown Date, 20 R.E.

Rajac woke cold and shivering in the winter air. He knew he had been in a semi-conscious state from Muhal’s blow for at least several days by the amount of times they had spoon fed his prone corpse. Well, at least, they don’t want me dead, Rajac thought with some conviction.

Patting himself down, he felt a gauzy substance underneath his tunic. Raising the thin cotton, Rajac craned his neck and saw a long padded strip of cotton draped over his chest where the wound lay.

He let the shirt fall with a shrug as he rose. Better to leave the bandage where it was. Even though he felt no pain. He had no idea what would happen if he ripped it off. It was possible the wound could open and he could bleed out.

Looking around, he saw he was in a stone room with no amenities. The only exit, an iron-bar door drilled into the stone below showed an expanse of dirt, shadowed by rising rows of benches in a circular fashion.

With his mouth gaping, Rajac walked over to the iron door, a cold chill sweeping across his bare flesh and stuck his head up to the opening to get the best look possible at what lay outside. Thousands upon thousands of benches lined the sky like heavens all around. It was an incredible sight. With a sudden recollection, Rajac understood that this must have been the Circle the Commander had spoken of. Frankly, it looked like a coliseum to Rajac and he shivered at the possibilities.

A depression began to rise within him at what might be to come. Rajac headed to a corner of the room and sat down against the wall. Whoever was taking care of him would come soon and they would answer his questions about this place. He hoped.

It took longer than he thought but a human man in a simple tunic and breaches walked up to the iron door with a trey of food. Setting the trey of food down, the man noticed Rajac was awake. With mild surprise, the man stated as simply, “Excellent. I’ll schedule you for tonight.” Rajac rose hurriedly, racing to the bars. “Wait!” He called to the man who had already been retreating.

But the man either ignored him or was already out of earshot.

Night came quickly, and with it, the crowds. Creatures of many races, most of which, Rajac had never even heard of, filled the thousands upon thousands of benches. A raucous crescendo slowly built as the Circle filled awaiting what Rajac had begun to dread.

It was not that he feared to fight. It was that he feared to fight without his Sadat. His Sadat was what made him strong and Muhal had destroyed it with a single blow. Without it, Rajac felt he was only an above-average swordsman. Thus, his confidence was lagging as the same man, with the same abundantly plain garb, dressed his wound and placed a short sword in his hand.

As Rajac tried to speak to the man, ask him any questions at all, the man pointedly ignored him. So, Rajac glumly listened to the announcer who had stepped into the center of the Circle. “Welcome one, Welcome all!” The elf said. At least, Rajac thought he was an elf. Though, he had the wrong skin color for one and his build was much larger than ones he had seen previously. Probably and elf variant, Rajac mused, as he attempted to distract himself from fighting without his Sadat.

“As his gift to you, Lord Gaya, in his benevolence, had given into your bloody demands and another night of the Circle is being held each week!” Raucous laughter could be heard from the crowd, drowning out the announcer’s next words.

“…have many fights this night. Many criminals have taken it upon themselves to try and leave the comfort of Lord Gaya’s protection.” Jeers met the announcer’s words. The elf paused, a small smile on his face.

“I know, I know. Repugnant. But that is why they are here. To repent for their crimes and of course,” the elf chuckled, “To provide us entertainment.” Loud cheers rumbled through the audience and Rajac felt his nerves twist inside him.

“As you know, we only allow the very best to walk within the Circle. Greater Races of many kinds have shed blood on this very surface. But tonight, we have something special for you. A Ventros has been caught trying to leave.” Hushed whispers circled through the crowd at that. “Yes, it is true. Very rare for one of them to show themselves. They are renowned as the very best swordsman; though,” the announcer said with a sorrowful expression, “I will admit, he is a rather young swordsman who has only mastered half of their Style.”

Surprised, Rajac looked up, his nerves forgotten. How does he know that? It came to him almost instantly. My pack. It had my skill tomes in them. What a fool I’ve been. To the right people, those are worth millions. Annoyed, Rajac gripped his sword tightly in his hand.

“On the other side, we have another newcomer this day. He is a Kraisian. Strong of body. Fit as a lion. It will be an interesting battle between both of them. Neither has the ability to use magic, of course. How much fun would that be?” A few shouts of ‘None at all’ and ‘Just kill the fuckers!’ reigned down from above.

The announcer smiled politely at the hecklers and said with an exited air, “Are you ready?” He raised his hands into the air and the crowd went wild. They stamped their feet and cheered until Rajac could no longer hear. Just as he lowered his hands, Rajac’s door clanged open and he raced through it.

He had no idea where his opponent’s cell was but if he could head him off, it would be a great advantage to him. As he thundered towards the center of the arena, the announcer, a panicked look in his eyes, quickly disappeared into the stands.

As he ran, Rajac’s eyes scanned for his opponent. Glancing back behind him, Rajac noticed a cell door, a few doors over from his, open to the Circle. A four-legged creature was slowly stalking out of the cage that held it sniffing the ground in contempt. He had a long, sleek body with matted brown fur. Two black, beady eyes glinted out in the darkness and his two, spiked tails swung menacingly with every step.

This was a Kraisian? Rajac had very little interaction with the beast races. The only ones he knew who lived near human and elf-like habitations were Ravens and that was only because they were paid well.

Rajac turned to face the beast, his sword raised. The Kraisian looked up at him then, a look of contempt on its face. Uncertainty clouded Rajac’s thoughts as he looked at the powerful creature. Could he defeat him without his Sadat? Rajac thought he could take Muhal but that proved false. Laughably so.

Instinctively, Rajac stepped into the first step of the Cadence of Jin. Even though he feared the power he felt emanating from the beast, he felt a conviction rising in him. He had to survive. He needed to rescue his race. He wanted to see his family again. This life, granted to him, was such a treasure. He did not want to throw it away so easily. He knew that he had done some egregiously stupid things in the past. No longer. No longer was he free from responsibility. His people, the Ventros, were apart of him now. He had chosen them. And thus, he had to protect them.

It started right here with this beast. Anger began to course through Rajac then as he settled into his stance. The Kraisian pounced, growling with undeniable bloodlust. “Kill!” It shouted at him as it dove.

Rajac ignored it at moved quickly into the fourth step of the Cadence, avoiding the creature’s swipe only barely. He felt a gust of wind pass over him as he moved. The Kraisian landed dramatically, skidding to a stop with a screech of its long claws.

Rajac moved quickly then performing the first step of Fallacy as he thrust with his sword. He felt a tearing of flesh as he plunged the sword into the Kraisian’s side. With a roar, the beast backed away, hissing.

Feeling somewhat triumphant, Rajac grinned then, but he knew it was too early to celebrate victory. He remembered too vividly what happened when he thought victory in hand against Muhal. Remembering that bitter loss, only days previously, Rajac’s mood soured and he, once again, moved back into the Cadence, waiting for the beast to approach.

Growling, the beast dove at him once again and Rajac stepped back; however, this time, Rajac was less lucky. The beast’s claws tore through the flesh of his left arm causing him to howl in pain.

Though it felt like he was burning alive, Rajac grit his teeth and attacked the Kraisian where it landed. Again, he stabbed the beast, tearing a chunk of flesh from its hindquarters.

“Ha! Blow for blow everyone!” The announcer called from the stands. “Will you look at that!” Rajac tuned out the voice as he advanced on the creature. It was hobbling on its three good legs, pain evident in its eyes.

Quickly, Rajac struck at the creature again, but it was able to avoid it by jumping to his left. “I won’t go down that easily Ventros!” It screeched. Rajac said nothing as he struck again. This time, he swung at an arching angle, aiming towards the wounded leg. Pain lanced up his left arm as he clenched his whole body through the swing. As he felt a tearing, warmth along with the knowledge of his victory flew into his heart.

The Kraisian’s leg thunked to the ground as a jet of blood began to gush out of the howling creature’s body. It slumped to the ground, too much in pain to stand any longer. Its leg lay forgotten at its foot, a cleanly hoven chunk of bloody bone visible in the darkness.

Cheers welled up from the audience as Rajac stood, breathing heavily. “Kill! Kill! Kill!” Rang the crowd. What was he supposed to do? Rajac looked at the announcer who waited silently for Rajac to perform some action. With some reluctance, Rajac bent over the injured Kraisian who looked pitiful as it moaned in pain, curled in a ball. “I am sorry. If it was me, I would have liked you to make it quick.” With a flick of his sword, Rajac impaled the Kraisian’s throat, cutting off the beast’s screams.

At that moment, a strange notion came over Rajac as he remembered a movie he had seen in his past life. A line from it seemed perfect right now. Turning to the crowd, he yelled as loudly as he could, “Are you not entertained!”

Sudden silence met his remarks as he stalked back to his cage, dropping the sword in the dirt. He had no idea how long he would be kept here but he would be no slave to these people. He would fight for his survival. His very race depended on it. But he would not grovel for his existence. A small twinge of sadness rose in him as he reached his stone room. He knew it would be a long time before he would be able to see his family again. What would they think when he sent no letter? He sighed as he closed his iron door behind him only to raise his head in surprise as the cheers rose louder than ever behind him. Some began to even shout ‘Ventros!’ ‘Ventros!’ ‘Ventros!’.

As Rajac lay back against the stone floor, the crowd still cheering for him, he knew he would have to become much stronger to escape this place, let alone survive.

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