After training for months in the jungle together, Drakthar and Kali, with Fore accompanying them, return to the city on God’s island to fight in the tournament that supposedly will determine the mightiest warrior in the entire world.

The normally sunny skies are grey, accompanied by a cold wind to signal the arrival of far away challengers. The courtyard specified for the gathering of warriors on this day is filled with men and women of different builds, some bulkier than Drakthar others slim and agile, preferring to use their wits over their muscles.

“Well? Anyone, you recognize?” Kali asks Drakthar as the two of them look around sizing up their competition. Drakthar nods, his eyes fixated on a grouping of men he knows as the Iron Legion.

Suddenly his old comrades, Bill and Bob, meet his gaze and the two of them rush over.

“Drakthar! I should have known you would be here,” Bob comments merrily.

“Leave, this will only end in death for the two of you. I know the level of competition here and you two aren’t up to it and neither is the Iron Legion,” Drakthar warns them, worried for their continued existence.

“I appreciate the concern but I think we can all decide individually whether we are to compete or not,” the Iron Legion’s new leader, Shash, looking more worldly than he did when Drakthar thrust the mantle of leadership upon him, responds for his men.

“Yeah, we were never going to enter, we’re here to watch Shash and some of the others,” Bill explains to Drakthar.

“Good, but you shouldn’t join either,” Drakthar tells Shash, knowing how far below him in skill he is.

“So this is the one you guys are always talking about. He’s rather condescending,” a man, with a deep scar across his face, comments as he steps to the front where Drakthar is talking to his past comrades.

This odd-looking man glares at Drakthar for a few seconds waiting for a response but he finds none, prompting him to add, “The name’s Xenos, I’m here to show you that I’m the strongest the Iron Legion’s ever had”.

“You’re not,” Drakthar confidently informs him, knowing just from his build that he would crumble easily if he were to come up against stiffer competition he expects from this tournament.

“We have a difference of opinion, all I can do is prove you wrong if we meet in the arena,” Xenos states, haughtily turning his back to Drakthar and walking back to the middle of the grouping of Iron Legion men.

“Sorry about him, he’s very eager to prove himself. He is strong though,” Shash apologizes on behalf of his subordinate.

“It doesn’t matter, don’t join this if you want to live. If we get into that arena together we’ll be enemies,” Drakthar coldly advises him.

“I know, I look forward to it,” Shash responds, a grin appearing on his face.

The two of them nod at each other before those from the Legion return to their group and walk off.

“They don’t seem that strong,” Kali observes as they walk away.

“That’s because they aren’t. They won’t be threats to us,” Drakthar agrees with her.

“I’m actually quite interested, who would be a threat to you?” They hear a smooth elegant voice, with a hint of an accent neither of them can place, ask from behind them. They turn around a look down to see a man clutching a stringed instrument grinning up at them.

“Who are you... exactly?” Kali asks, never having seen this man before.

“My apologies, I should have introduced myself first. I am Maximus De’Leroux a famous songwriter who has become interested in your stories ever since you left your mark over in the Sacrosanct Empire. If I may, let me show you some of my work focusing particularly on your feats here mister Drakthar,” Maximus introduces himself, taking a bow as he flourishes his hand, bringing it to the strings.

Drakthar looks down, unimpressed, as the man sings his exploits in the Pits, highlighting his speed and unmatched strength even by exotic beasts he met down there. Kali is surprised, finding the song quite catchy, humming along once she has the basic refrain down.

“I see Miss Kali enjoyed the tale. But you mister Drakthar, you, I can tell, are not so easily impressed. No matter, I shall continue to sing your praises until you approve,” Maximus declares, intent to impress the subject of some of his most popular tales.

Drakthar grunts menacingly before turning his back to the songwriter, not wishing to engage with such a man any further.

Kali doesn’t share his same resentment, unashamedly asking, “Do you have any about me?”

“I, unfortunately, do not. You are mentioned in my song of the Sacrosanct but mister Xander is the subject of that ditty. Do not look so glum, miss Kali, regale me of your story so I may tell it to all those who will listen,” Maximus implores her, pulling out a piece of parchment to begin recording it.

“Well Maximus, did you know I used to be the guardian of the fountain of luck?” Kali begins her story.

“I am very much aware of that. I, like many others, am curious how you escaped such a life long obligation,” Maximus comments during her pause.

Kali’s face sinks, remembering that shameful moment involving the very same wolf that is sitting at her feet. She looks down at Fore and it snaps her out of it.

“You know what... Maximus, I’m fine with being a background character in your stories. I’m going to catch up with Drakthar,” she changes her mind, starting to walk off to get back to Drakthar who already spurned the poet.

“That just will not do. You are much too fine a lady to play a background role. If you cannot think of a moment of glory or story of intrigue allow me to follow you, that will be more than sufficient to create stories of your exploits,” Maximus insists, not willing to let such a fascinating set of individuals get away.

“Fine, just don’t annoy him okay. He doesn’t need to be more grumpy than usual,” Kali whispers to him.

“Do not worry, I will be like a fly on the wall as some would say,” Maximus assures her, following close behind as he once again brandishes his quill and parchment, prepared to jot down inspiration as it comes to him.

As he moves forward to avoid the pest trailing behind him, Drakthar spots familiar faces out of the corner of his eye. He goes over to his old cellmates Pravin and Lorens who look out of place among the crowd.

“Drakthar! How’s it been? Life outside the Pits treating you well?” Pravin greets his former comrade.

“Why are you here?” Drakthar asks, assuming the two of them would still be stuck fighting in the Pits.

“God gave us a choice. If we do well enough we can be free so I don’t see why we wouldn’t compete in this tournament. Nearly everyone in the Pits is, even Radek. He’s really close to getting out now that you left,” Pravin informs him of the goings-on since he left.

“Good, I wish to face him in this tournament,” Drakthar notes, looking around the crowd to see if he can spot his rival.

“That friend of yours, how come you didn’t free her like you said you would? I only ask because she’s still been at the Pits looking all pale and ghostly. The guys who pay to visit her all say she’s like a walking husk,” Pravin informs him about Gwendolyn.

Drakthar grits his teeth, recalling that he had to leave her behind to get Kali back.

“If I win this that will change,” Drakthar comments, remembering the stakes set by God.

“Drakthar? Who are these two?” Kali asks Drakthar as she catches up to him.

“I’m Pravin and this is Lorens, we shared a cell with Drakthar when the three of us were stuck together in the Pits,” Pravin introduces himself and his friend.

“Oh, I didn’t know Drakthar was capable of making friends on his own. I’m Kali, Drakthar’s… friend, I guess,” Kali stutters while finding the correct term.

“I think I get it. Anyway, good luck to you guys, we are going to grab some more of the food they are giving out over there. We don’t get out much, so we’re trying to enjoy what we can get before we are forced back below,” Pravin waves at the two of them before dragging Lorens along towards the food.

As they watch the two of them walk away, they notice Pravin accidentally bump into a sturdy-looking man in full black armor that Drakthar recognizes as Frederick, the man from the Black Sun Empire which he slew in the future in the tunnels of the arctic. He doesn’t say anything, merely nodding to himself, noting his presence as Pravin apologizes.

“Hey, Drakthar, that guy over there is staring at you,” Kali whispers, pointing towards a stern-looking man with grey hair, a child with messy black hair at his knees.

“Oh him? He is known as the Champion of the Pits. He is the first-ever man to escape them, like you he is a legend to those on this island. Would you like to hear his tale?” Maximus offers, also whispering to match Kali’s tone.

Drakthar looks angrily at Maximus, questioning why the insect is still following him without having to say anything.

“Now now mister Drakthar, do not look at me with such indignation. You should focus on the man making eyes at you. The champion of this arena, even at his age, is one of the top competitors here, along with yourself and miss Kali of course,” Maximus shrugs off his glower, trying to hype up the match that surely will become one of his most talked-about tales.

“Hey, why is my dad staring at you?” Drakthar and the others hear a child ask. They look down to see the child with messy black hair looking up curiously at them. Drakthar looks over at the greying man before his eyes meet that of the child’s.

“Why don’t you ask your dad?” Kali suggests as she kneels to be the same height as the boy.

“He doesn’t listen to me a lot. Most of the time he stands there and doesn’t respond when I ask him things,” the boy explains.

“Now doesn’t that sound familiar,” Kali mutters to herself, thinking of Drakthar.

“Sorry, I don’t know why your father is interested in me. You should go back to him,” Drakthar tells the child.

“Okay!” The kid agrees, scampering off back towards his father.

“Odd kid,” Kali comments as she stands back up.

“Yes, this cool confidence, a gruff exterior with a much deeper man lying beneath. I am starting to grasp the type of man you truly are, mister Drakthar,” Maximus cannot help himself to exclaim in excitement.

Drakthar rolls his eyes, doing whatever he can, not to strangle the man who has been following them. This focus on restraining himself is enough not to notice the figure come up from behind him. He feels a hand on his face causing him to turn.

Drakthar notices the soft hand belonging to a woman, red hair and familiar-looking eyes with an unmistakable scar across her throat, marking her as an immortal.

Kali doesn’t like the way she is touching Drakthar prompting her to say something to stop it, “Hey, watch what you’re...”

Her protests are stopped as she watches the woman shift her grasp to the back of Drakthar’s head and pull him in for a kiss, one longer than the one they shared above the arena.

Kali looks angrily at the woman then over to Drakthar, furious he didn’t try to resist the act.

“Who are you?” She asks, pushing the two of them apart.

“Interesting, a battle of affection. A beautiful ballad this will make,” Maximus comments to himself as he keenly observes this altercation.

In response the woman points at her scar, smiling at Kali while she begins to nod.

“I can tell you’re an immortal, why are you going around kissing random men? Do you know him?” Kali’s questioning gets more aggressive.

In response, the woman walks over to Maximus and takes his quill and parchment. She scribbles for a couple of seconds before tearing the parchment and handing it to Kali.

Hi Kali, I’m Arua, Drakthar is my destiny. Kali looks up at the mute woman grinning back at her with a confused look.

“What? How do you know such a thing? Destiny, what do you mean?” Kali tries to get her to clarify, the initial statement being so vague.

“Sharn,” Drakthar utters, finally remembering those familiar eyes. Arua perks up at the mention of him, nodding rapidly at the name.

"You know him?” Drakthar inquires, interested in someone who is somehow related to a man of such strength.

Arua’s nodding stops, she points at her stomach before lowering her hand down to her knees and turning it parallel to the ground as if to signify someone of that height.

“You’re his daughter,” Drakthar easily interprets what she is trying to tell him.

Arua nods enthusiastically, causing Drakthar to remember her mother with similar hair being reticent in letting Sharn leave to fight Drakthar right before he died.

“If you are anywhere near as strong as your father then I look forward to facing you on the field of battle,” Drakthar declares, assuming she must be if she is here.

Arua shakes her head, pointing up confidently, a much more serious look on her face than the usual one she is sporting.

“You are stronger than he was?” Drakthar asks, doing his best to understand what she means.

She nods, hitting a fist against her chest while doing so.

“Good, I look forward to it,” Drakthar smiles, knowing if her assertion is true she will be a real challenge to him. Arua grabs a hold of Drakthar’s face again, stealing another kiss from him before skipping off.

“I don’t like her,” Kali growls once Arua is gone.

“And stop her from kissing you next time,” Kali hits Drakthar’s shoulder.

“Why?” Drakthar asks, not deriving the same meaning from the gesture as most others.

“Never mind, just be wary of her,” Kali gives it up, seeing that nothing good will come of her further chastising him.

“Fine,” Drakthar agrees, although not quite sure why he would need to be wary.

Suddenly, Fore, who had been walking around at Kali’s legs, darts off unexpectedly, heading towards the docks. Kali looks at Drakthar before the two of them begin to chase after the wolf but Fore manages to be fast enough to escape their eyesight.

“Dammit! Kayde’s going to be mad if we lose his wolf,” Kali notes, having done much to keep Fore with her through everything.

“I’m sure he’s just following that luck of his”. Drakthar and Kali both stiffen at the sound of a familiar voice; turning slowly they see Xander looking back at them. Both of them grab a hold of their friend, allowing themselves a moment to take in his presence.

“It’s good to see you both too. Kayde and Lunette came here with me,” Xander informs the two of them while being restricted in their arms.

“That’s probably why Fore ran off then,” Kali deduces, the wolf having sensed his greatest friend.

“Hey, is Gwendolyn here with you guys?” Xander immediately inquires, causing both Drakthar and Kali’s stomachs to churn.

“My word, it is mister Xander? It is an honor to meet someone as gallant as thee,” Maximus interrupts their reunion to make an introduction.

“Sorry, who are you?” Xander is kind enough to address the man in awe of him, despite really wanting to know where his wife is.

“I am Maximus, I am a songwriter of great renown. Not as much as yourself of course. Please mister Xander, let me play one of the many ballads I have written of you,” Maximus humbly requests.

“Maybe another time. Right now I need to know something. So please give us a moment,” Xander refuses as politely as he can, his priority on discovering Gwendolyn’s whereabouts.

“Is she here with you guys?” Xander asks again, not noticing their grave expressions.

“Not exactly,” Drakthar responds as Kali looks down, her eyes glued to the cobblestone below them, as she cannot bring herself to look at Xander.

“But she is here on this island?” Xander questions, trying to decipher what his friend might mean.

“Yes, she is being held in a tower. A man called God has her,” Drakthar begins to inform him.

“Where is the tower?” Xander doesn’t hesitate to ask, following Drakthar’s eyes as he looks at the tall cylindrical tower in the distance.

“I see,” Xander doesn’t let him respond as he runs off towards it.

“Wait, Xander… fuck,” Drakthar curses to himself, unable to stop his friend so he could tell him more before he ran off.

Xander throws his hood over his head as he makes his way through the city, avoiding the armored looking individuals as he heads to the base of the tower. He silently creeps inside, noticing the door across the way and the stairs heading up on his right.

He sneaks up to the door, putting his ear up to it so he can listen if Gwendolyn is inside. All he hears is thrashing about and muffled voices. He opens the door, cracking it to get a view of the scene before him.

He notices a woman, bent over a tub, her head being forced underwater by two large men while another short woman watches with a satisfied look. Despite not being able to see her head, Xander immediately recognizes her flailing legs and arms.

Without a moment of hesitation, he warps himself behind the two men, slitting their throats before they can comprehend what is going on. Their lifeless bodies tumble into the tub, the blood from their throats mixing with the water to form a shade of pink.

Before the woman watching can even scream he tosses his sword to the side, the rotating blade cutting her head clean off before pinning itself directly to the wall between two bricks.

Gwendolyn pushes herself above water, the unknown force keeping her below now gone. She gasps for air, focusing only on that and not noticing the bloodshed around her.

Xander leaves his sword stuck in the wall, kneeling down to help pull Gwendolyn’s long hair away from her face.

“Miss me, honey?” He asks with a smirk as he gets his first look at her beautiful face for the first time since they were stuck underground, not even noticing her unnaturally pale complexion.

He cannot keep himself from embracing her before she responds. He realizes she isn’t doing the same, her arms remaining at her sides.

“Gwendolyn? Is something wrong?” He thinks to ask, still holding onto her.

Their moment together is interrupted as a man enters through the door.

“What a touching reunion. You must be Xander, I have to say I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” God’s voice echoes around the room causing Gwendolyn to begin to shake in Xander’s arms.

God makes note of this and chuckles, “I enjoyed how your determination turned to despair in such a short amount of time, yet you never gave into me. It’s like your brain could never comprehend the option to end your suffering. How tragic”.

“What do you mean? Did you do this to her?” Xander rises, starting to calculate the distance to his sword at the edge of the room. God watches his eyes, the shade changing from blue to purple as his anger rises.

“Interesting,” God smiles, recognizing those eyes.

“Hey! Answer me! Why would you do this to her?” Xander demands an answer, glowering at the calm man before him.

God sighs, finding this line of conversation boring, “Fine if you really wish to know it is because she favored you over me”.

Xander’s head twitches slightly, finding that much to be obvious.

“Of course she favors me, what are you getting at?” He has to ask, slowly inching closer to his sword.

“If you really need the complete picture, I offered her an opportunity to experience carnal pleasures beyond what any woman could imagine and she turned it down because of her devotion to you,” God elucidates in an over the top manner.

Once he hears this Xander doesn’t hold back anymore, he stops time, grabbing his sword from the wall before cleanly removing God’s head from his body. Once time resumes Gwendolyn sees God’s head on the ground, Xander standing above it cleaning his sword before returning it to his hip.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he extends his hand out to her. Gwendolyn’s eyes don’t focus on Xander’s hand instead they watch as flesh emerges from God’s neck from where Xander severed it, forming the exact same body that it was separated from.

Xander doesn’t notice as God stands, his old body turning to dust.

“It would seem you are more interesting than I gave you credit. Freezing time… now now that is a trick I’d love to get my hands on,” God notes, having read Xander’s mind as to how he so swiftly decapitated him.

“What the fuck?” Xander turns, raising his sword to try and slay him again if he has to.

“I knew you would be interesting… but I must admit you have impressed me, Xander. I have not had to regenerate in such a way in over five hundred years. I knew the man that captivated a woman such as Gwendolyn had to be someone powerful, but you greatly exceeded my wildest expectations. To have powers such as you do and to be an Athaulf at that. Are there any other tricks you are hiding from me?” God asks as to prompt his mind into thinking it so he can become aware of it.

“Turn back time as well,” God notes after having read his mind, making sure to let Xander know that he knows all of his abilities.

“What is going on? How do you know all of this?” Xander is perplexed, not having given Drakthar enough time to explain things before he ran off.

“Allow me to introduce myself, I am God and this is my island you have set foot on. As you learned I am immortal and I can read minds, all those private thoughts of yours are no secret to me,” God introduces himself and explains his own powers.

“Now, I am aware of everything you can do. You are no longer a threat to me. Now let me teach you a lesson of what happens to those who remove my head. You see, I have a reputation to maintain and I can’t have someone like you running around spreading baseless rumors,” a golden sword appears in God’s hand and he points it at Xander.

His grip starts to loosen as he notices the man in front of him start to laugh, “For someone who fancies himself so much you forgot one thing. I, in fact, can turn back time so this meeting never happened or at least that is what you will think. I can tell you whatever I want now and you won’t remember any of it. First, I’m going to get Gwendolyn out of here; second, I’m joining your little tournament; and lastly, I’m going to win the whole thing and at the end of it all, kill you for what you’ve done to her”.

God only smiles, watching as Xander kisses Gwendolyn one last time before these events fade from existence as Xander turns back time. Xander finds himself outside of the tower. He turns back deciding to rejoin his friends instead of walking into God’s trap.