The surviving gladiators were triplets female humes, and there was only one set of siblings that fit that description within the circle they existed in.

Nadier asked, “The Juneberg Three, I presume?”

“Lotto, the youngest,” the archer introduced. She then pointed to the shield and sword wielder next to her. “This is the eldest, Haley. And Jules.” She finally gestured to the lightning mage of the three.

“We're going to need your help dealing with the other three salamanders.”

Lotto raised a brow. “We're thankful for your assist, but that seems suicidal.”

“I agree,” the eldest raised.

“Or we could fight alongside the others and overwhelm them with numbers!” Ierba exclaimed.

Haley finished curtly, “It's better to set up a defensive line and wait for them to tire themselves fighting the others.”

Nadier glanced at Ierba, giving him a look to say, Told you so.

“Fine,” the knight growled back. “Stay and be cowards. Come, Wanderer.”

As the knight rushed towards the three salamanders left in the sky, Nadier wondered what made Ierba think he would have followed. As the Omniknight walked on, leaving Nadier alone with the triplets, he sighed and began running after his partner, with Zen trotting loyally along.

“Slow down!” Nadier yelled, catching up. “Why are you so intent on saving people?”

Without stopping, Ierba huffed, “I know someone... who'd save everyone he'd meet... that... rubbed off.”

Nadier could not help but nod, having experienced someone similar. “They're not here now though.”

“He's not wrong!” There was a pause as they jumped up a ledge and vaulted over a boulder blocking their way. “I like sleeping at night.”

The pair made it to the next battleground swiftly. A pair of human fighters were dodging between stalagmites as the salamanders rained fire down on them. Occasionally, one of the beasts would swoop down in an attempt to swipe off one of their prey and the warriors, swords in hands, would risk a slash at their enemies. It seemed as if the two had managed to down at least one of the monsters judging by an unmoving corpse of it nearby. However, two other humanoid bodies were lying charred and ripped apart in visible distance. It was a war of attrition, and the humans were losing.

Nadier looked up to the ceiling of the cave and yelled, “Stalactites!”

The knight turned his gaze up and quickly charged up four orbs of light which he sent to four of the larger spikes above them. The orbs landed on the pointed tips and shone a beam straight down onto the spots beneath them, targeting their aim.

Immediately, Nadier ran towards the stalagmite field and yelled to the survivors. “Hey! Lead them to the light!”

The reaction was instant. The two fighters, one man, one woman, split up further, drawing the salamanders towards one of the rays each. Whoever the pair were, they were experienced enough to grasp situations quickly, and obviously sufficiently skilled to survive their dire circumstance for as long as they had. Nadier hated to admit it, but it seemed Ierba was right. If they could recruit at least these two to their aid when the time came, it would be highly beneficial.

He picked up a pebble on the ground and with aimed hands, threw it at one of the salamanders. The projectile missed but caught the creature's attention anyway. With the other two focused on their own prey, the remaining one redirected its attention to Nadier. It swooped down on him and he tilted into a full sprint towards the nearest beam of light. In the distant, he could hear the woman shouting a command and a blast of shadow cuts across his field of vision, blasting one of the stalactites out of its root. The stone spear fell to the ground with a crash that rumbled the earth and one of the creature's shriek was cut short as it pierced its body.

Four down. Two to go.

As he thought that, Zen yelped. He craned to see her grasping in the salamander's claws. Anger roiled up within him and he let out a primal scream. He jumped at the salamander and slashed at its left wing wildly with his dagger. The beast shrieked and released the shadow wolf who dropped the ground with a whine.

But Nadier's adrenaline and anger were fuelling him and he could not stop. He grabbed hold of the creature's neck with his offhand and squeezed tight. His main hand's dagger began stabbing wildly at the salamander's body's general direction. The monster's mouth clicked as sparks from its flinted teeth flew, attempting to light a fire on its chemicals, but he choked the vessel that carried the liquid, preventing it from spewing. With beastly violence, he continued stabbing the creature as it squirmed, it's claws ripping at his coat in a desperate attempt to free itself. Slowly though, the monster began to succumb, coiling onto the floor.

Stab! Stab! Stab!

Eventually, its movement weakened to spasm, only its talons occasionally twitching as electrodes reacted with his thrust. As the ringing in his ears subsided, so did his rage and flurry of blows. Slowing down, he could hear his heart beating and echoing flames crackling within the cavern.

Stab.

Zen slowly approached him and his vision tunnelled on her. Everything else was silenced as he let go of the salamander and backed out from its corpse as it slumped to the ground. Gently, slowly, he raised a hand to Zen to show his faded rage and after rubbing her snout against his palm, she accepted him back and leaned her cheeks into his hand.

“Remind me not to piss you off.” He turned to Ierba walking casually to him.

“What... what happened to the last one?” Nadier asked, gradually returning his composure.

Ierba waved the notion away. “Took care of it while you went berserk.”

Berserk. Where did that anger come from? Arbor?

“I need help!” They heard the woman survivor scream.

The pair exchanged quick glances and Nadier followed Ierba towards the sound. He reckoned the knight knew where the other two were given that he was the one who dropped the stalactites. They circled around a large stalagmite pile and into a thin cloud of dust. Within, were rubble from the crashing stone spear and the body of a salamander smashed unceremoniously into the side of a rock face. Lying in the middle of the wreck was a man, his right arm sheered off. Next to him was a dark-haired woman whose armour resembled that of a knight, but plated with scraps found from a junkyard, and two swords tied together by leather straps and random blades. Survivor equipment.

“Help him! My husband!” she begged and gestured to the missing appendage. “He'll bleed out at this rate!”

The announcer had begun proclaiming their victory, but Nadier was already rushing to the wounded man's side, ignoring any accolades.

“I could cauterise it,” Ierba quickly suggested.

“No! There's too much dust around. If you seal it in without a way to clean it later, the infection will kill him before the wound.” Nadier shot it down. “Tie a tourniquet around his upper arm and dry up his wound as much as possible," he commanded.

As Ierba tore away the cloth of his pants' legs to execute the commands, Nadier pulled out his two vials from his secured pouch - one an anaesthetic, and the other which he had failed to properly appraise. When the woman was done drying the blood to the best of her ability, Nadier quickly poured the former vial over the wound to which the man - barely conscious then - awoke with a gasping pain.

Nadier then held the second vial out to the couple. “I don't know what this is for sure. It either treats him or does nothing.”

The worried woman exclaimed, “Just do something!”

He nodded, uncorked the vial, and quickly spread the liquid over the entire surface of the wound as evenly as possible. Then he waited. Blood was still flowing, and he was unsure if the chemical - even if he was correct - would work while that damp.

Then, small white bubbles began to form and the liquid began hardening over the stump. Mixing in with the blood, it soon turned into a clay-like substance of blood-red, mud-brown, and bubbling grey.

Nadier let out a breath of relief before turning to the wife and said, “It worked. The cast will stop the bleeding for now, but it needs to be cleaned and cauterise.” Tears leaked out the woman's eyes as she kept nodding in silent thanks, words unable to escape her heavy breathing.

It was then the announcer's voice boomed and Ierba and Nadier stood to their feet. “Nadier the Wanderer, Ierba Langsley, and the Juneberg Three, return to your cells immediately. Visalle Thurner, you will await the arrival of the guards to take you into custody while medics retrieve Earnest Flamebillner for treatment.”

The pair looked down to the woman, Visalle, who simply said, “Go. We've got this.”

“We're attempting a rebellion soon,” Ierba blankly stated.

“If I'm still alive,” Visalle replied. “I'll be there.”

Ierba nodded an agreement with her as Earnest mouth thanks. As the two turned to leave, Nadier motioned for Ierba to wait. He approached the corpse of the salamander and held its still somewhat intact head. Squeezing the side of its jaw to open its mouth, the dark elf reached his hand in and ripped out the creature front fang, blood spurting across his wrist as he did so. It seemed he would be spending a few days naked in his cell, cleaning his outfit.

He kept the fang into one of his waist's many ingredient pouches before taking a knife to the neck of the salamander.

The announcer, tone stable, said, “Nadier and Ierba, return to your cells or we will be forced to take lethal force.”

Nadier ignored the warning. With surgical precision, he sliced opened the leaking skin and reached in, pulling out the sack of organ that stored the flammable liquid. Cutting the vein that connected the bag to the body, he then quickly tied the part with its own leaking, putrid, blood-soaked tubing. He began walking away quickly, glancing up to the VIP box where the room had emptied save for the announcer standing as a side, raising a curious brow though not taking any further actions at the infraction.