I was taken from my cell with a smidgen more respect than when I had been dragged to the gauntlet. The greenskins had seen my speed and skill on display as I dodged the blades and fire. My escort led me to a holding area and I felt like a boxer, waiting in the dressing room for the call. I’d walk out to a bit of “Kung-Fu Fighting” or “Eye of the Tiger” and strut around the ring while psyching my opponent out. I suspected my efforts would be wasted considering the creatures I faced were nearly twice my size. Would they feel the same once they got the full measure of my enhanced abilities? Time would tell.

The lock snicked and Alwyn entered through the steel door.

“Come to say goodbye?” I asked.

“I’ve come to wish you luck and remind you of our pact. If you manage to kill the goblin king, you’re going to stand behind my claim.”

“Yeah, yeah. Then you go to Milton and tell him of how you subjugated the orcs and ended the war.”

“Exactly,” she replied, with a cold smile.

“Are you going to take this hex off then? I’ll be fighting in a minute.”

“Are you going to behave?” she asked sarcastically.

“You’re far more powerful than me. I made a stupid mistake before.”

“Yes, you did. I don’t blame you though; I’d have tried to kill me too if I was in your position.”

“That’s comforting.” I held my arms out to show off my rags. “Well?”

The smile vanished and she glared at me. “Remember our bargain, little fly,” she said, and I felt the weight of magical bonds disappear.

I equipped my armour and weapons. She was in range of my sword, begging to be cut down, but I held back. The debuff from Spidey had done hardly anything, and I was under no illusions that my own level would fare any better. The toxin might make her a little groggy, but not enough that she wouldn’t just incinerate my face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And good luck. If the fates smile upon you, the war may be at an end by nightfall.”

“Let’s hope so,” I replied, and she strode from the room with a grace that made it look as if she was gliding instead of walking.

Left to my own devices in the empty room, I began pacing as nervous energy coursed through me. I wondered how many people had stood within the same four, rocky walls, pondering what the next hour would bring. I could almost feel their ghostly emanations of terror radiating from the beyond. I tested my armour by performing some agile rolls, which had only improved with my allocation of the skill points. Hilde’s work was like a second skin, pliant and accommodating as I lurched to and fro, practicing my parries and thrusts.

I went over my quickslot bar, ensuring my health potions and spells were within easy reach. My plan was to leave the more powerful abilities hidden until I had the main man in the pit with me. Of course, there was the saying about best laid plans and them going to shit, but at least I had a vague idea of what I was doing.

I felt a faint rumble beneath my feet. Streamers of dust fell from the fissures in the rock above me. My first though was earthquake, but then the inner door was unlocked and swung open and I could hear the cheers and stamping feet. Thousands upon thousands of them.

“Move!” snapped the orc, pointing down the long passage.

I complied, trying to maintain my cool. It was harder than I could’ve imagined. I felt like the characters in films and games, nearing the end of the journey, yet knowing the hardest part was still to be faced. The sheer amount of flowing adrenaline was making my body tremble; I had to get control of it or I’d shake myself to pieces.

“Fru dere!” he barked, indicating an open gate set within bars of steel like my cage.

The little stones beneath my feet were skittering from the combined power of the crowd yelling and stomping. My view changed from the narrow tunnel to an almost indescribable scene. When they had mentioned the pit, I was expecting a literal pit. Ten feet deep, twenty wide, with blood-soaked sand on the floor. The site of my final battle was an enormous arena set within a gemstone flecked cavern. The precious crystals in the roof and walls must’ve been worth a king’s ransom. It was almost as impressive as the Roman coliseum that I’d visited once, only on an orcish scale. There was no intricate stonework on display, just the usual, highly suspect steel and timber construction that had created the gauntlet’s walls. Rows of seating stretched up from the lowest viewing area, that was a good twelve feet high, encircling the massive space. I was amazed that the entire thing hadn’t broken apart and killed thousands.

Gutrender’s suit hissed and spat as he stood within his private box. Smoke from his chimney curled out from around the steel roof. He held up the blades and the inhuman din gradually died away.

“Boys! We got a show for ya today. A few of da up ‘n cummas wants a shot at bein’ a warboss. But first, we’s got a score ta settle!”

The amphitheatre erupted as my enemy marched from the other tunnel. It was my old friend Golag. He played up to the crowd, waving his massive axe around, eliciting yet more deafening cheers.

“Fight!” Gutrender yelled, barely heard over the cheers.

Golag ran at me, five hundred pounds of raging green fury. I waited patiently, my stance ready. The orc raised his weapon, hefting it over his shoulder. If I’d been stupid enough to hold my ground, Golag would’ve run me down like a freight train. But I wasn’t stupid. He swung the axe, and I slipped sideways, sticking out my foot. The charge and momentum of his attack spun him round in a pirouette before he smashed into the ground. Taking a cue from Sun, I walked over and slashed at his thick neck while he tried to shake off the daze. Golag’s head thudded into the dirt at my feet and I kicked it away like a football.

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Is that it?” I mocked. “This is the best you can come up with?”

I knew my mouth was a problem, especially when the same door opened and a huge warg ran into the arena, topped with Chot the Flatulent. The toots that escaped his saddled arse mirrored the bounding leaps of his mount. When the creature was almost on me, I wound up my shield and flung it at the goblin, face down. It whirled like an enchanted frisbee, smashing Chot from his perch with the crunch of shattered ribs. I dived aside as his pet leaped, the warg’s claws missing me by inches as it slammed and rolled in the dust. While the animal thrashed on the floor to get back up, I casually walked to the goblin and ended him with a downward thrust through his black heart. All my previous talk about not enjoying watching the lights go out in my enemy’s eyes was forgotten as I held Chot’s dying glare.

I heard the panting and pad of paws. Whirling around, I yelled, “Sit!”

The beast flinched, then stopped mid-charge. It walked up to me, head lowered. Sniffing at my hands and lower legs, I think he caught the scent of Fen. Whatever went on in his lupine mind, he decided I was a friend and left me alone. Cocking his hind leg, the creature peed on Chot’s corpse.

“Savage,” I said, chuckling.

Trotting back to the entrance, he stood on his back paws and scratched at the steel, leaving score marks in the metal until they let him through.

It went on like this for an hour or more, until the final orc lay dead at my feet. None of the greenskins were inclined to enter and clean up the bodies, so I was left walking between corpses in varying states of dismemberment. This was my opportunity, so I pointed at Gutrender.

“I want you! Fight me!”

The mechanised goblin looked around uncertainly.

“Fight me or come down and lick my boot! The choice is yours!” I made a point of turning to the crowd. “My name is Optimus Maximus Decimal Place! Father to a golden Labrador. Husband to a shitty business. And I will have my vengeance, preferably in this life, because dying sucks.”

The crowd jeered and threw objects and drinks at me that are best not mentioned.

I turned back to my foe. “You follow this coward? I’ve had shits that were more dangerous.”

A few among the crowd started to laugh but quickly fell silent when the goblin tried to identify them. “You want’s it?” Gutrender snapped. “You’s got it!”

He stormed out of view, but the clanking hiss gave me an exact location for most of his angry approach. I was expecting to fight in the slaughterhouse, but an army of greenskins poured through both doors, collecting the bodies, heads, and limbs. A second wave of orcs hurried in, laden with dozens of buckets of dried mud. They doused the black pools of spilled blood liberally, providing traction for the steel feet of their master. I’d looted as much as I could, and none of it was of much use. Just coin and trash armour.

When the cleaners had left, the arena fell into silence. I caught Alwyn’s eye and she gave me a wink.

Eugh. Rancid hag.

The squeal-thunk of Gutrender’s suit carried out from the open doorway across from me. The black smoke emerged first, curling up around the frame. The goblin king stomped into view, followed by his dutiful coal team. A pair of small, twisted greenskins were mounted on the mech, one to each shoulder. My eagerness to get stuck in ebbed away a little now that the massive construct was stood before me. My initial plan to pelt his exposed body with any weapon I had in my inventory had been thwarted. A shell had been bolted in to place, only showing his evil little face through a small viewing window. He was a reverse Terminator; an exoskeleton surrounding living tissue.

“Well, shit,” I huffed.

Name – Boglug Gutrender (Level 14) (Boss)

Description – The legendary tinkerer himself. Locked away in the darkness below Whitespear Mountian, the king of goblins mastered the use of steam to power his war machine. Limitless metal ore and manpower resulted in some of the most messed up creations to ever hit a battlefield or steampunk festival. Destroy this monstrosity and move one step closer to the salvation of Kherrash.

Weakness – Poison

Immunities - None

The two fuel orcs on the cart went into a frenzy, tossing great shovelfuls of coal into the furnace, bathing them in an orange glow. The trough carrying team below prepared themselves, ready to scuttle after their boss into battle.

“Ready ta git mashed?” Gutrender yelled.

I ignored him and summoned my matriarch swarm. Unseen at his back, my rodent army surged from their magical nest and tore into the group of orcs. The weight shifted as they panicked, tossing the coal-dusted feeders into the waiting teeth and claws of my friends. Unable to support the ton of black ore, the metal container slammed to the ground, crushing three of the luckier orcs who escaped being eaten. The rest were swiftly dispatched before Gutrender even started to turn.

“Wot?” he snapped at the sight of the dead and dying.

“Looks like you’re running on empty,” I called, back in cheesy action hero mode.

“I gonna kill ya!” he roared, clomping towards me.

“We’ll see how tough you are once the fire goes out!”

The suit was far more agile than I’d given it credit for. Whatever mix of machinery and magic was controlling it, Gutrender picked up quite a speed. He raised the spiked fist, and little puffs of steam burst from a set of tubes lining the forearm. The solid steel arrows thudded into my shield and breastplate, piercing my chest by a couple of inches through the armour. He wound up his scissor claws and swiped at me. I managed to dodge to the side just in time, but my health had already taken a knock from the unexpected projectiles. The little fucker had more tricks than David Copperfield. I ran away, yanking the shafts out and popping a health potion.

“Git back ‘ere!” he cried.

I turned to face my enemy, wary of his arm. Boiling water trickled from the tubes, indicating it was a one and done deal. His spiked fist and cutting hand would still mess up my day in the worst possible way, not to mention the two imp type creatures which were strapped in to their little pods either side of the “head”. I was expecting mini crossbows, but when I saw the sparkling fizz, I groaned. They lobbed the sticks of dynamite at me, and I had to throw up my shield when I saw how little remained of the fuse. I was smashed back by the detonation, the blast buckling my lower leg armour. I was a minute or more away from a health pot, so I limped away while the creatures lit fresh explosives. Their short arms limited the range of attack, but the wave of energy and heat still punched into my back as I fled.

The size of the arena worked in my favour for the short term. Gutrender stalked me, cutting off my avenues of getting past him. Another pair of sticks flipped towards me, and I was forced to activate holy shield. I shrank away as they blew. Inside the protective sphere, I watched the flames curl around me in beautiful shades of red and orange. Gutrender charged, and I dodged beneath the legs as the mech tried to crush me against the wall. It crashed into the steel, reeling back from the impact. I cast smite on the left hand figure, expecting the energy to hit the mountain way over my head and do nothing. My mouth dropped when a glowing portal bloomed to life in the cavern roof, directing the beam exactly where I wanted it to go. The imp-like figure squealed as he burned to death, the explosive in his hand already ignited. It fell inside the pod, the sparks disappearing from view.

Gutrender was already clomping towards me when it detonated, taking the rest of the sticks with it. Engulfed in a massive fireball, the suit was knocked off course and forced to a knee as hydraulic fluid and steam hissed from the damaged section. I went full on machine gun as I had with Shinara, pelting the dazed companion with torches. Unable to unstrap himself, he held up hands protectively as my flaming brands smacked into his body and arms, dropping into his pod. The goblin king was trying to get to his feet, but my pyromaniac efforts paid off when I heard a fresh series of fizzing break out from the explosives on his other shoulder. These blew too, vaporising the imp and swatting the massive suit in the other direction. I ran towards it, hoping to take advantage of the shock. The fist that was pressed into the ground for support lashed out as I neared, smashing me back the way I’d come. Its thick spikes had punctured my stomach and groin. When I finally landed in the mud, I screamed at the agony, feeling like my bollocks had been dipped in acid. I necked a triple health pot, stitching my nethers back together again.

We both stood simultaneously. My health was ticking up, and Gutrender’s was still at full. The damage to his outer shell hadn’t harmed him at all, though the fluids that coughed and spluttered from the sundered pipes had at least slowed him down. The furnace at his back was split, spilling glowing coals out that shattered, kicking up showers of sparks.

If I’d had some archery skill, I would’ve attempted some critical shots through the small porthole that held his face. He’d been angry before, and now it was twisted into a mask of purest hatred. The time had come to put my combat skills to the test. I stood my ground as the snicking blades snapped eagerly as Gutrender approached. He attempted to catch my upper body between the scissors, but I ducked out of the way and tried to puncture the base of the steel cocoon. My blade scratched the metal, sliding to the side, and cutting into the softer link at the top of its leg. A gout of greasy fluid squirted, soaking my weapon and hand. As I tried to pull it free, the oil made me lose grip on the sword. The spiked fist wound up and slammed down where I’d just been standing. I came to my feet from the roll and the jaws of the other hand caught me around the midsection. Gutrender cackled, lifting me from the ground, and beginning to squeeze. I felt the sturdy armour begin to buckle, digging into my sides painfully.

“Anyfink ta say, softmeat?” Gutrender asked, displaying my kicking form to the crowd who cheered. “I’s gonna chop ya in two.”

Fighting back against the pain, I had only one shot of escaping bisection. I took out my sharktooth dagger and jammed it into a cog attached to the wrist. The slotted metal rotated, jamming tight against the weapon. Gutrender shrieked in rage, trying to force the blades to clamp shut. If my dagger had been normal, the incredible pressure brought to bear would’ve snapped it like a twig. Being a creation of godlike aliens, the upper arm ruptured instead, spewing steam and hydraulic fluid all over the arena. The limb shuddered before seizing solid.

“I’ll mash ya!” he shrieked.

I was clamped tightly in the jaws while the goblin king raised his fist. One blow from that massive ball of spiked steel would spurt my guts out through my arse. Everything I had was on cooldown, and I waited for the inevitable.

Until a thought struck me and I equipped my silkweb armour instead. Without the heavy plate all around me, I simply twisted and dropped, just as the club fist did the same. Gutrender smashed his own arm apart, and I dived side just in time to avoid the debris. The damage to the suit was nearing critical levels, as the spewing steam and smoke attested to. His poisonous little face glowered at me, but I could see the doubt written plainly. An item I’d all but forgotten flashed into my head, and I pulled it from the inventory. Winding up my arm, I pitched the second jar of oil I’d taken from the deserter cave at the mech. The ceramic caught the edge of the viewing window a glancing blow, shattering it into a dozen pieces. Enough of the flammable liquid made it into the cockpit where the bleeding heat from the furnace at his back ignited it. I wasn’t sure if it was the goblin king screaming or the escaping jet of steam and fire that burst from the circular window. It didn’t matter. Gutrender’s health dropped like a stone as the burning debuff ate into him. The suit twitched once, then collapsed to its knees where it continued to burn.

My level pinged up, exceedingly loud in the now silent auditorium.

I almost couldn’t believe I’d done it, but the fight was not yet over as I summoned something else.