Part Four(?)

Like a dozer in blind rage the giant sasquatch charged at Nadier with its thick white hairy arms swinging. The dark elf got down into a horse stance, ready to dodge. Monsters that attacks in anger always aren't easy to predict. Survival usually counted on split second successes. These type of creatures do not fight for survival, but dominance, and are violent to the point of threat.

The boulder of a left arm swung down and he jumped and rolled forward into between the creature's legs as the fist pounded cracked in the ground and the crowd burst into roars at the first sight of action. He got up and sliced at the tendons of the leg but missed, feeling just the twine thick fur of the back of its shin slap his hand as he breezed through. The thick hair had messed up his range perception. If he was to do any damage with his short daggers, he would have to get even closer.

Just as he was ready to climb up the sasquatch's back, a glint of light appeared in the corner of his eyes. Knowing what was coming next, Nadier instead sprinted full speed away from the creature as Ierba the Omniknight fired a beam of light and shadows that slammed dead into the side of their opponent. The displacing force of the impact was enough to throw Nadier off his feet, but he quickly recovered into a fighting stance. In the distance, the light emitting from Ierba's outstretched arm slowly faded.

Even after being hit by what amounted to a cannon shot, the sasquatch still stood, though its right arm was noticeably scorched. The creature had covered its head with its wrist, protecting it from potentially fatal damage. It seemed the beast was smarter than Nadier had given it credit for. Or at the very least, its survival instinct was strong. A beast born to fight, a creature bred to survive.

The sasqautch - deciding Ierba to be the greater threat - removed all its eyes from Nadier and turned its attention fully to the knight. It started lumbering towards its new prey, wary of the unconventional magic he casted.

Realising that Ierba was probably the only one of the two of them with enough firepower to swiftly bring the beast down, Nadier resolved to change his job. He was a fantastic assassin and duelist, but a terrible knight. But for now, he'll have to grab the aggravation of the creature for a while and buy time for Ierba to charge up another powerful spell.

He swapped out his vials for liquid fire and set them alight. Wielding his blades of flames in reverse, he rushed for the creature and once neared, jumped as high as he could, stabbing the two burning steel into the back of its thigh.

It let out a roar, its fur singeing around where the fire was lit as it fell to its one good knee. It turned its head, its right most eye rotating around the side of its face and landing on Nadier. A 360 degree view. Great, he sarcastically thought. That meant nowhere to run. The beast raised its hand and moved to swipe the dark elf away as one would do a fly.

Lodged deep within the meat, Nadier had to use his legs to launch his blades out and dodge the attack. He tried to counter back by cutting the exposed skin of the arm, but his blade simply rubbed off the rough callous exterior. It seemed the only part he could penetrate was beneath the fur, which was behind an annoying forest of hair.

But the risky attack had been worth it. Ierba was fully charge. The man ran across to the front of the beast, and with his spear in a throwing arm, flung the magically charged weapon at the creature. The power of light and darkness coalesced into a lance that punched into the sasquatch's chest and the creature doubled over onto its hands and dropped to a crawl.

Nadier landed on his knees and immediately leaned forward into a sprint. He hung the ring of his daggers onto his index fingers, leaving his palms free. Running past under the sasquatch's legs, he used the running momentum to snatch the spear out of the monster's gut, spilling blood behind his step. With a jump, he thrust the spear into the right eye, gunk and blood splattering. The beast rose back roaring in pain, with Nadier still clinging onto the polearm. At the zenith of its rise, Nadier let go of the spear and let the momentum send him flying, kicking off the handle of the weapon to direct his movement. Setting both daggers back into his hand, he fell straight down and watched as the iris of the sasquatch's middle eye thinned in rage and shock as his blades sunk into it.

The sasquatch let out a painful gurgle that seemingly drowned out the cheers of the crowd.

Was it over?

Nadier felt the creature grabbed his body, and like a doll, it threw him across the arena.

“Winterwayn!” Ierba shouted.

He travelled far enough to slow down, but that did not stop his body from slamming back-first into the opposite wall with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. He landed on the ground coughing with a running pain down his spine. Had the sasquatch not been so badly injured, and in such a weak throwing stance, that would have likely killed him. Instead, the dark elf simply had trouble crawling back onto his feet.

Winterwayn.

“What-” Nadier coughed. “Did you-”

“Wanderer!” Ierba ran over. In the background, the sasquatch was still struggling with the loss of two of its three eyes. “Can you stand?”

“What... did you-” His breath was still cutting off. “Call me?”

Ierba sounded confused. “Wanderer,” he reconfirmed.

Winterwayn.

Something about that word, that name, stuck in Nadier's mind like a nail in a coffin. “I've met... you before.” Slowly, he stood to his feet.

“What?”

“This is not-” he choked as blood coughed out his lips. “-not the first time we fought a giant together.”

The sasquatch let out another roar. Its one remaining eye settled on them in rabid fury as it charged. Ierba clicked his tongue in annoyance and he rushed out to meet the creature. The Omniknight reached out his hand as his magic circuits glowed again. Tendrils of dark shadows reached out from behind the beast and grabbed hold of the creature. It was held back temporarily. But size mattered, and the strength of the giant was breaking the shadows one by one.

“Get out of the way, Wanderer!” Ierba shouted. “I can't hold it for long!”

Instead of running, Nadier walked up to Ierba's side.

The latter asked, “What are you doing?”

“Arborior... Winterwayn. That's my name.”

He could feel warmth coming from beneath his coat. He thought of the slobber that covered his face when he woke. The image of a black wolf in snow came to his mind.

“Zen,” he called.

From the darkness beneath his coat, the shadow wolf stepped out, growling, leaving trails of shades as she walked. Zen. That's right. Her name was Zen.

Nadier breathed. “Sick 'em, girl.”

Zen pelted into a sprint, shadows whirling around her body as she charged towards the sasquatch. She jumped, magical momentum carrying her forward like a bullet of darkness. She hit the sasquatch square in the chest and the monster wailed and roared as it stumbled back, swiping at the tentacles and the wolf desperately. Then, her shadow wrapped around the sasquatch's body, entwining it as she climbed up its torso. Finally, at the neck, she clawed across like a blade slicing the air, shadows of light and darkness scratching across the air as the aftermath of a work of fire. After a few stunned seconds from the crowd and quiet gurgling from the beast, it finally succumbed, dropping to its knees and, finally, down to its body, sprawled dead.

The crowd burst into applause and raving cheers.

Nadier's sight landed on the box seat and spotted Trini standing next to a pale-cyan looking elf, similar to herself, sitting on a throne-like seat, the latter with a grin.

Arborior Winterwayn. That was Nadier's name before his memory lost. He once fought alongside Ierba, a long time ago, and Zen the shadow wolf was his partner. He could not remember anything else but those base instinctual lost fragments. However, of those things, he was undoubtedly sure. And somewhere within that arena of beasts, where monstrous people watched captured slaves, kidnapped warriors, and arrested creatures, battle for their lives in gladiator pits of death was the remains of his lost memories. History of what happened to him over two hundred years ago.

And somewhere within him, he rekindled an instinctual vow to bring it all down.