《Killing Roar: Part 2: Mortal Mewling》Jobbing and the Main Event

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“Let’s have you get a measure for what you’re getting into. We’ll set up the fights. You just watch, that is, until it’s your turn,” Mistress said, walking off with her bodyguard into the back of the arena. We sat on one of the benches, fixated on the people in the center, the crowd roaring with anticipation for their fight to begin. It was understood that everyone of us would have to fight. She wanted entertainment— we couldn’t hedge our bets on the belief that one of us would be entertaining enough, no matter how much Alain believed in himself, and that was a hard odd to bet for.

The fight had been for longer than we had been negotiating with the Mistress. Both of the combatants were breathing heavily, clearly already fatigued. One had a porcupine beast soul per Alain’s admiring gasp, the other some sort of snake. Quills were scattered throughout the arena, the snake man’s body stretching to avoid the hazardous materials strewn about. His upper half would reach forward and his lower half would snap in, sudden jolting movements on right angles, all to ensure no stray quills would pierce his flesh. For all the snake man was dodging, that didn’t mean he had a good means of assaulting his opponent. This was not a favored match-up. His scales weren’t thick enough to repel the quills, given the few puncture wounds that littered his scaly skin.

Frankly, it seemed like this was the end of the match for him. The hedgehog beast soul fighter curled up over himself, his vexatious quills forming his dangerous exterior. The ball started rolling faster and faster in place, a burning scent filling the air. The noise of his quills scraping at the floor was an odd thing, a high pitched noise that got faster and faster.

The snake man’s eyes widened, trying to coil his way to the top of the arena’s cage and cling to the metal frame, but that didn’t matter to the hedgehog. He took off, bounding at a high accumulated speed, riding along the perimeter of the cage without losing any momentum. He smashed into the snake man, battering him into the wall of the cage and coating him with a smattering of quills, before coming to a complete halt.

“We have a winner,” the announcer said, motioning for the fight to halt. The hedgehog man basked in the unadulterated glory of the crowd, their roar a chorus to his ears. The snake man was collected by two workers, lifting him out into a dark corridor where we would no doubt end up soon enough. It was far more potent than our fight on the way to Malagost— this was what trained fighters looked like. Or at least, the potential for our fights to go. Not all of them were necessarily this competent, but the ceiling was set for our expectations.

Another one of the arena’s staff motioned for us to continue down a set of stairs, leading into a waiting room with a notable hole in the wall. Off to the side resting on a cot was the snake man, the quills plucked out in a neat pile on the ground. His wounds were covered in bandages, his eyes shut, closed off to the rest of the world. The hedgehog man was also present, getting a round of cheers from the other fighters assembled in the room.

It was a strange sensation, to know that one was fighting not for one’s life but for sport. That one’s life wouldn’t be on the line. The fight was still serious, given we needed to do well to earn that key information, but the relief remained nonetheless.

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“Vera, Forcezo, please come with me to the arena,” the worker said. We didn’t expect Vera to have to fight so soon. Or any of us really. There was always the expectation there would be more time to study and learn, but that was being withdrawn. We were having no choice on the matter.

“Be safe, Vera,” Mia said, squeezing our friend’s hand tightly.

“I can’ t promise I’ll be safe, Mia, but I have my faith everything will be alright.” She beamed back at us and followed the worker down the hallway, leaving us to stare at the gap made from her absence.

As they walked off down the corridor and out of sight, one of the other fighters walked by our position. “You know her?”

He was a short fellow, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. The man cast an aura of competency, eyes having seen more than his fair share of violence. What he lacked in height he made up with broad shoulders, upper body powerfully built out. One punch thrown by his hands would hurt, and that would just be without any beast soul effects. Whatever his second tier attributes might be could be even more potent.

“Yeah, you could say that,” I replied, reluctant to confirm anything further.

“Well, time to get watching her fight then. You won’t want to miss what happens.” He pointed to the circular window where the other fighters had crowded about, Javier already standing fixated on the world on the other side, Mia and Alain having already sidled up beside him. I couldn’t be the only one not watching the Vera’s fight. I rushed over and barreled through the crowd, a quick word of thanks all the tribute I had for the other fighter who had directed my attention to where it mattered.

Vera and Forcezo stared at each other, sizing one another up. I couldn’t make out too much of Vera’s expression from this angle, but it seemed as though she was serene. At peace with whatever the outcome would be.

“Up now we have Vera the ibex beast soul versus Forcezo the wolf beast soul. Finish inputting your bets as the fight starts in thirty seconds,” the announcer said, hyping up the crowd.

“Do you think Vera can handle this?” I asked Alain.

“I know she can handle fighting this man, but whether she does so is a different matter,” Alain mused, his words evoked so softly that I almost didn’t catch them. I stared, wondering if he would elaborate further but he had nothing else to say, his own gaze lingering on Vera. I had to do the same. If he wasn’t giving answers, I would have to discern it for myself.

“Alright, time’s up. Vera, Forcezo, let’s have a good, non-lethal fight. Begin!”

Vera watched her opponent, summoning up her second tier features but not moving any further. Her opponent may have taken longer to summon his claws and legs, but from there Forcezo circled around her, the hunter marking his prey. “Oh no, she wouldn’t,” Javier muttered.

I widened my eyes, unable to stop watching the fight for fear of missing some of the action. But I needed to know. “She wouldn’t what?” I whispered off to him.

“Let’s just hope she doesn’t,” he grunted. I wanted to continue arguing further but I understood that tone of his. It was a tone of finality. He was going no further, which meant I would have to subsume my concern for Vera and just believe she would win her fight.

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The crowd grew silent, waiting for more action to take place. A few stray voices called out for violence, the rest unwilling to speak lest their words draw others wrath onto them for distracting from the fight. The call of the arena was sacred, and the wrong words would disrupt the flow of the room. Only the right words meant to be said to incite the violence within the ring.

“Have it your way,” Forcezo snarled, lashing out with his claws. Vera leaned into the impact with her horns before bucking back, pushing the wolf man to the other side of the cage. He coughed a little blood from the impact, crimson drops leaking from the corner of his smile.

“I guess you do have some bite to you, but if that’s all you’re going to do, you’re severely underestimating me.” He jumped to the top of the cage, a furry maw sprouting over his lips.

Vera tensed up, watching his movements unerringly but never proceeding to be on the attack. She waited, hesitation the chains she had crafted for herself. So much of what she had been taught to do was reactive or in preparation for other’s assaults. She hadn’t developed the opportunity to be more proactive, even having been knocked out with the fight with the bandits.

History would repeat itself once more.

Forcezo snapped his jaw, and around Vera, a giant replication of his maw appeared, collapsing around her just as suddenly. She crumpled to the ground, battered unconscious by the force of the blow. Alain and Javier cursed in unison, Mia shrieking in outrage. I swallowed my cries, hoping only that they would pull her out of the arena shortly enough and ensure she wasn’t too injured.

It was hard to tell how much damage she had received— her skin looked intact, limbs not excessively out of place— perhaps it had just been the shock of the impact that temporarily betrayed her. Workers came in and hoisted her off the ground, Forcezo basking in the glory of his victory while we continued our wait from within the room.

The crowd by the window had dispersed, the fighters speaking in huddled groups, leaving Alain, Mia, Javier and I by our selves once more. “I knew it,” Alain muttered. “She underestimated the opponent.”

“Not quite,” Javier interjected. “She was afraid of injuring her opponent.”

“She’s far too naive at times. It must be easier when we’re fighting monsters and not people for her. You should do something about that, Javier,” Alain said.

Javier quietly nodded, moving over towards the end of the hallway to monitor Vera’s return into the waiting room. The workers hoisted her onto a cot and I followed in Javier’s wake, figuring now was my opportunity to confirm her well being.

Vera’s eyes fluttered as we approached, and she rubbed her head, groaning as she rose vertically. “What time is it? Are they still serving breakfast?”

Javier barked a short laugh, shaking his head to the contrary. “Vera, you just lost your fight in the arena. Quite badly too. You failed to do anything but build up your opponent, which while I suppose can have merit for the larger arena circuit, does not adequately explain your actions. We’re going to have a stern talk about this when we’re back at Titan City, but for now, we’ll just leave it at how I’m pleased you’re not too severely injured. I couldn’t be more happy you weren’t maimed. It’s a relief to see your wounds were minimal.”

He turned away, not willing to burden her any further, which meant Mia could sneak in from behind the two of us to smother Vera with a hug. “You big stupid idiot. Who told you to not take all fights seriously? It certainly wasn’t me, Vera.”

“The doctrine—”

“Oh hush about the doctrine, Vera, you gibbering fool. I don’t care if Javier is going to wait until we’re back home. I’m going to harass you until you’ve learned your lesson as soon as we’re done here. But for now, you continue to rest. We don’t know who is going to be fighting next.” Mia placed her soft fingers on Vera’s lips, a quiet show that her will was not to be disputed.

We pulled away from Vera, standing idly about once again, wondering when the next fight would be and if any of us would be in it. “You’re definitely fighting next, Perry. They’re doing the most cautious of us first,” Mia said, throwing a knowing smile at me.

“Don’t be absurd. They’re sending in Javier next. The Mistress wants a ringer after that last performance.”

“Don’t you talk rudely about Vera like that. Only I’m allowed to,” Mia snarled back, bangs flying over her eyes with her sudden turn of her head.

“Alright, alright, sorry, I thought we were all feeling aggressively upset over Vera’s performance,” I said, raising my arms in self defense. Mia gave a quick sniff of derision, staring at Alain instead of my unsatisfactory form.

“I just wish they’d put me in the ring so I could show them what was up,” Mia muttered. “Vera is a sweetheart, but I would go for the throat.”

“Whatever you say, Mia. It’s not in our hands,” Alain replied ever so softly. The thought of who was going next didn’t need to be left to us any further. It had already been chosen.

“Mia, Alain, follow me to the arena,” the worker who had led us in said. He had popped out of the corner of our eyes, hiding in our blind spot. We locked eyes in shock, my words swallowed. Even Javier was aghast. We couldn’t argue against it. This had the guarantee that if the Mistress was fixated on a winning result, we were guaranteed to hit that outcome. The only consequence was that two of our team had to beat up each other.

The two gave each other a brief nod and headed out down the hallway, Javier and I already running over to the window to ensure we would be able to watch what would happen. It was our duty to observe their conflict. We had to capture it in our minds for review, and understanding of the burden thrust upon them.

In the arena, Mia and Alain sized each other up. Our training mock battles had always been against Perry, not against each other. He had fulfilled the role of the spike feeder, the dangerous being apt to shrug off regular attacks. We were training to protect the city, not training to fight each other. While that would certainly provide some manner of benefits, it didn’t reflect in the goals of our team and could have introduced habits that would conflict with the training required to deal with the grey-skinned monsters.

“Don’t hold back, Alain. We need to put on a proper show,” Mia said.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“With your bets now locked, let the match between Alain the cat beast soul and Mia the hummingbird beast soul begin!” the announcer shouted. From the start Mia unleashed her double-time speed, body flittering across the arena in short bursts of activity.

Alain narrowly dodged her opening tactics, body twisting in the air to avoid the skewering impact of her beak. “That’s not enough to catch me,” he muttered.

A quick scoff from Mia was all the emotion she could spare. She redoubled her attacks, Alain narrowly dodging her moves by the skin of his teeth, the pair heavily panting from the exertion of their efforts. The crowd had grown wild, highly invested in the fight between two of the people I knew the most in the world.

“Let’s see how you handle this,” Alain replied, getting scraped on his cheek by a piercing blow. He winced from his exposed flesh, but that wouldn’t deter him. He continued on through the pain, diving into Mia’s shadow. Her eyes widened, head turning about frantically in time for him to pop out once again, a claw held up against her neck.

“I think we can fairly say I’ve won here,” he said, the faintest hint of smug coating his words.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I was saving this trick for a more dangerous opponent but this seems like a good time to test it out,” Mia snarled back. She started vibrating, body shaking at extreme speeds.

Sensing the danger, Alain let go and jumped back, beads of sweat dropping to the ground. He could see the abrasion on his arm that had braced her body. “Was that devised in response to our time in the swamp?”

Mia came back to a halt, body shaking from the effort of remaining upright, unable to look away from Alain. Her breathes were labored.

“You could say that,” Mia admitted. “But it looks like we’re back to square one.”

“I don’t know, I think that attack took more out of you than it did me. I’ve been evading while you keep expending energy.”

Mia shrugged, wearing a sharp smile. “Fine. Think however you like. It won’t help you against my assault.” A trail of glimmering Mia’s spawned after her, as she attacked off to Alain’s side, followed by a another piercing blow opposite of her first one and a final spear towards his current position. It was a trident of beak stabs, which on its own would be dangerous, but her afterimages repeating her assault heightened the efficacy of her attack pattern.

Alain’s natural inclination— ingrained by hours of training with Javier— to dodge her blows landed him jumping into the aftermath of the first attack. He leapt out of the way of Mia’s first attack but landed in the wrong place, his trajectory catching the afterimage skewer, his shoulder now featuring a new hole in it. He roared in pain, swiping his paw at the trail of images and shattering them, glittering pieces of Mia falling to the ground.

Seeing a window of opportunity, Mia used her double-time speed once again, landing a barrage of beak stabs against Alain, her thin spear piercing Alain’s flesh in a rapid salvo, Alain crumpling to his knees from the pain of the attack. “You’ve done it, Mia,” he muttered. “That new attack was everything. I concede.”

As his last words left his match, Mia’s proud form collapsed, falling face first into the floor of the arena with a heavy thud. All of the energy she had exerted to scrape out a win from Alain had sapped her of the energy to continue. Even though she had ostensibly won, she wasn’t conscious to see it.

The crowd roared, standing at Alain to get up and counter-attack, but the announcer’s voice rang through the madness. “Give us a brief moment as we determine the results of the match,” he demanded.

He walked off to the side, whispering with the Mistress, a thin smile plastered upon his lips as he returned to the waiting crowd. “The results of Alain versus Mia is… a tie!”

The crowd roared, those that bet understanding that they had lost it all on the long shot, others cackling at the very same losses their friends had stumbled into. The staff drew the two combatants back into the waiting room under the watchful gaze of the chaos, their fight concluded just as suddenly as it had started.

There were only two combatants left of the team that hadn’t fought, Perry and Javier.

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