The vice champion crouched on the warehouse's roof as he watched group after group of Vackzilian's men teleport in. He clenched his fist. He had tried everything he could think of to stop the blood oath, but the distorted creature was too smart and too strong. If he hadn't fought him head-on himself, he would've never believed that someone could be that powerful.

Once again, the polished, circular slab of gray stone lit up and became translucent as millions of magical runes and symbols reflected and refracted light throughout it. The multi-colored lights lit up the darkened sky, adding to the soft yellow glow from the full harvest moon. Another group of thirty-odd men appeared on the teleportation stone's surface, and the vice champion ground his teeth in frustration.

I have to do something! he thought as he crawled away from the edge of the roof and stood to his feet. Hundreds of people had died in the monstrous demon's first attack. If it hadn't been for the amazing sun spell...

He shook his head; he didn't want to think about what might've happened... or what still could happen. He swallowed hard.

Taking off his mask, he ran his hand through his thick brown hair, letting his locks fall over his ears. "Think, Tairex Havanger. Think!" he muttered to himself. "There's got to be something you can do."

But as he pondered the situation, the only thing that came to mind was retrieving Alf and his friends. The supernova spell had to have come from them, which meant there was a high chance they could actually help. Of course, fetching Alf would mean Zaphaniea would be left to fend for herself. The thought of her being chased down by these horrid creatures all by herself sent shivers down his spine. On the other hand, if she came back with them and Vackzilian found out, he might just send even more men!

There was thousands of noncombatants still at the arena ...

Tairex put his mask back on.

We'll just have to take that chance! he decided as he ran to the edge of the warehouse and jumped down.

Landing lightly on his feet, he crouched and closed his eyes. Alf is headed for the Eastern gate. I'm at the southwest end of the city, which means... Tairex went over his mental map of the city and nodded to himself as he planned his route, adding an extra pit stop along the way. Coming to his feet, he took off sprinting, and the world blurred around him as he focused on weaving through Glandledale's streets without smashing into random buildings.

As he came to the town square, he skidded to a halt, loose gravel and pavement flying as his feet smashed into them. The city square looked desolate without a soul in sight, something Tairex had never seen before. Stores and stands had been left open, their produce and merchandise left unattended. Silence permeated the streets, and long shadows cast themselves across the walkways. He had planned to warn them about the army gathering at the teleportation stone, but it looked like someone else already had. "I hope they found someplace safe," he whispered to himself and took off.

Passing the arena, he weaved and dodged through the festive remains scattered throughout the plaza. Then, reaching open road, he poured on speed till he saw the blurred outline of Alf outside the Eastern gate, several hundred feet down the main highway.

There they are!

He stamped his right foot into the flagstone, sending a ripple down the road and bringing him to complete stop several feet in front of the group.

The blur faded away; the world came back into focus, and he grinned as he noticed the young boy from earlier was hanging on Alf's arm and practically screaming something about not going.

"Children can be so annoying can't they Alf?"

Alf tossed the child backwards and interposed his body between Tairex and the people behind him.

But as the muscular man swung around to see who was speaking, his stance relaxed. "Oh! It's you. I was just coming back to see if everything was all right."

The vice champion's mind trailed back to the teleportation stone that even now was teleporting in more men. "Actually," he said rubbing the back of his neck. "Things aren't going so well. That beast and his army had obliterated us when your sun went supernova. Your spell healed all of us and turned all of his men into ash, but somehow the blood oath survived."

The child scrambled to his feet and stepped out from behind Alf's leg. "The effect of the spell reached all that way?"

Alf scratched the top of his head. "You said things weren't going so well, but that sounds great."

"Ya... well it would be if Vackzilian hadn't contacted the blood oath," Tairex spat and kicked a rock on the road back towards the city. "He's sending four hundred more men and over a hundred fifty have already teleported in." The rock tinged off the portcullis gate several hundred feet away and a loose donkey brayed in fright.

"I tried everything I could to kill him, but my sword couldn't penetrate his shield, and when I tried singing, he drowned it out with lightning."

"Interesting tactic," the kid mused as he rubbed his chin. "Sounds like this one may be above average intelligence."

Tairex ignored the child's comment and looked back at Alf as he steeled himself to ask for help. "I was hoping that all of us together could end this freak permanently," he said casually and quickly added, "I overheard him say he was almost out of energy. So we should have a chance."

The child's eyes grew wide and he stepped in front of Alf as he declared. "Absolutely not! Both Olivia and Zaphaniea are unconscious from the fight with the last two, and Zaphaniea needs a healer before she wakes up."

With a start, Tairex realized for the first time he didn't see Zaphaniea anywhere. "They're hurt?! How bad?" he whisper shouted, panic edging his voice. Even though Zaphaniea called him froggy and teased him mercilessly, Tairex knew she was just putting on a bold front. Just like him, she had a past which had left emotional scars, a past she hid from even him.

"No, they're fine," Alf reassured him. "The champion just needs a doctor to fix her muscles, that's all," he continued as he stepped aside to reveal the unconscious forms of Zaphaniea and Olivia. Three young woman Rex could've sworn he'd seen before with Alf, but for some reason had no recollection of, tended to them.

Moving closer to Alf's side, he looked at the unconscious women. Besides the muscles in Zaphaniea's arms and legs looking misshapen, they both seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

The tall, slender, silver-haired woman stood up and looked at him, her violet eyes full of compassion. "As Alf said, their injuries are not serious. Olivia used too much energy, and the strain of casting the spell ripped Zaphaniea's muscles."

The vice champion cringed; he knew the pain of ripping muscles all too well. "Then the kid's right. We need to get Zaphaniea to the healers asap. There are quality doctors at the arena—the ones that usually attend to her, in fact."

"No," the boy interjected again. "We will take them to our healers and see to them ourselves."

Alf reached down and laid his hand on the child's shoulder then looked past him towards the city. His jaw twitched as his eyes slowly drifted back to the girl lying beside Zaphaniea.

Tairex felt a twinge of guilt; he knew he was asking a complete stranger to not only put himself in harm's way but also the ones he loved. If there was any other way, he'd never dream of asking him to do this, especially since, even working together, their chances were slim.

"You're right," Alf said and leaned down to pick up the girls. "I'll be there in a minute. You tell them to be ready for us."

A sense of relief welled up in Tairex and he nodded, spun around, took a deep breath, and shot off towards the coliseum as fast as his feet could take him. Alf was going to help, he thought to himself. Maybe, just maybe, we'll stand a chance!

***

Alf watched as the vice champion disappeared into the gloom of the night.

"Alf, please don't," Drake begged. "If you die, the Empire is doomed."

"I'm sorry. I have to help," Alf said taking his sword back from the prince then lifting Olivia into his arms. "Do you think you can get the champion? I can't run very well with both of them," he asked the maids.

The eldest sister nodded and motioned to her sisters. Together, they formed a shield underneath the grand champion and gently lifted her.

"Fine, you leave me no choice," the prince said as he moved to block the road. He cast aside all pretense of being a child. His voice deepened; his shoulders straightened, and his piercing blue eye revealed his true age as his noble bearing demanded respect. "I, Drakovian Rylarth Docdovinun, command you Alfonso Vivyander Brockovich, third Dragoon of Alfireá, to turn around at once and return to Brockovich."

Taking a deep breath, Alf leaned down and looked Drake solidly in the eyes. "I know you're the heir to the Empire," he said softly, "and I'm the only noble you have left, and that you expect my fidelity to be to you, but it's not."

Drake's face turned ashen white.

"I will respect you. I will obey you; I'll even die for you, but my loyalty is to Jesus first. He is my Lord. Right now, in my heart of hearts, he's telling me I have to go back. I know full well in the natural there's no way I can defeat this blood oath. I also know, though, this is something I have to do, even if I die. I'm sorry."

Drake didn't reply. He simply stared at him in silence. Alf gave him a gentle smile, stood up, and stretched out his back.

"Is everybody ready?" he asked.

***

A black, indistinct scrying of the city stretched out before Dy'Ixion, and he watched as a red blotch appeared on top of the main Western entrance. Good. That only left the Eastern gate unchecked and his men would secure it soon. Which was excellent, seeing as Vackzilian had informed him the grand champion had reentered the city, and he was not to let her leave again.

A bead of sweat ran down his face and he brushed it away angrily. The Emperor's energy flowed into him, replenishing his own, but not fast enough for his liking. Zooming his scrying in on the arena, he watched as thousands of people swarmed around inside its bowels like a frenzied colony of ants. Their numbers had swelled, and this time, they'd be more prepared.

This wouldn't be easy.

Dy'Ixion pushed the scrying off to the side and glared at the so-called soldiers coming off the teleportation stone. Worthless scum, he thought. All of the ones who'd teleported in so far had achieved Patuah only this morning by means of dark magic, meaning they were nothing but useless fodder who were unable to control their energy. Dy'Ixion's best option would be to use them as self-exploding bombs and then send in the true murderers from the D8 section of Victiles—men the Emperor would send through as soon as these lowlifes from the low security section finished porting in.

This is bound to be a bloody massacre on both sides, he thought with a twisted smile. He hated, and if he was truthful, feared the men from section D8; they were nothing but raving beasts, animals consumed with their own desires, brute creatures lacking in any intelligence or forethought. But today, they would serve his purpose well. Seeing them being crushed as they carved swaths through the enemy's ranks was something he'd pay a fortune to watch, but commanding them as they did so... Truly, he breathed deeply of the night air—relishing in his command—this was better than his wildest dreams.

***

Alf plodded along at a steady pace, careful not to jostle Olivia as he carried her. Unlike a few minutes ago, the road stretching out before him now looked bare and devoid of human life. Leftover articles drifted in the wind, and wagons laid abandoned on their sides. All sounds of merry-making had ceased, and several loose animals wondered the streets aimlessly. In the distance, Alf heard the sound of the Eastern gate squeal as it's portcullis slid shut, and a sickening feeling hit his gut. Vackzilian's men were re-securing the city, and this time, they weren't going to let any one out. His pace slowed as he thought about turning around to try and reopen the gate, but as he glanced back, he saw Drake's face and thought better of it. The prince hadn't said a word since they'd reentered the city and Alf-

Alf shook his head, trying to dislodge his wondering thoughts. He needed to focus on getting to the arena. The sooner he arrived, the sooner they could discuss battle tactics, and the sooner Olivia and Zaphaniea could receive medical attention. Suddenly, something soft hit his foot, and Alf jerked his leg forward in response, kicking the object away from him. As a large stuffed, purple hippopotamus went flying through the air, he laughed nervously and stepped back onto a fluffy stick of cotton candy. I really do need to focus, he thought. Shaking off his nerves, he kept a closer eye on the debris in front of him, and compelled himself to pick up the pace.

As they neared the coliseum, the smell of smoke and burnt flesh filled his nostrils, and his stomach lurched. The images of what had happened at Carlos flooded back into his mind, and he steeled himself for the gruesome visage he knew he was about to see.

But as he turned the last corner leading out onto the arena's plaza, the sight stretched out before him was nothing like he'd expected. There were no large dents in the walls or pavement or signs of fire and blood like there had been in Carlos, and there was no evidence of death or mayhem. Oh, there was destruction; the entire left side of the arena looked as if it had been ripped off and melted like Swiss cheese over the plaza; several dead bodies lay scattered on the ground, and large trees lay on their sides, uprooted and broken, but everything had an unreal, pristine air. The arena's walls glowed, its mineral deposits sparkling in the yellow moonlight. The dead people lay in perfect repose, their faces serene and peaceful, their skin clean and dewy. Lastly, the downed trees had bloomed, and their pink blossoms now floated in the breeze, littering the corpses and ground-up pavement in a carpet of blossoms. It was like nothing Alf had ever seen before.

"Freaky," the redheaded maid muttered.

"You can say that again," the vice champion said as he appeared. "Vackzilian's beast shredded my arena in his first attack. We lost hundreds of people, and Olivia's and Zaphaniea's sun spell made it all look like some type of reenactment, or monument to the dead."

"It is," Alf shifted Olivia, holding her with his right arm and rubbing his face with his left-hand, "disturbing. To say the least."

"It's making it hard for me to get people here to start fortifying and cleaning the place up." The warrior's shoulders sagged as he gazed out over the oddly peaceful battlefield. "A lot of good people died, and I'm the one responsible for it."

Alf turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

The vice champion's voice dripped heavy with sorrow as he explained. "The blood oath caused all this destruction in a matter of seconds. It would've taken a hundred trained earth users an hour to do what he did...," he trailed off and shook his head. "I never thought it was possible for any man to be that strong." His voice cracked. "You all warned me, yet I didn't realize the gravity of the situation. I should have tried to get everyone out of the arena instead of staying and fighting!"

Alf went to put his hand on the warrior's shoulder to comfort him, but Drake stepped defiantly between them. "Then why don't we evacuate the people now?"

The vice champion's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Because, when the people in the city realized there was going to be another attack, they tried to run, only to find that all the roads out of the city are blocked. So they came to the arena, and now almost the entire city's population is hiding in here. With this many people, where in the world can I take them? And frankly, even if we had a place, that blood oath moves way too fast for any group to outrun him." The young man's voice sounded raw with the weight of responsibility that had been thrust upon him. Gone was the hint of the former joviality or cheerfulness Alf had always heard in his voice.

The fire in Drake's eyes died, and his voice became soft as he said. "The last part is not as big as a problem as you think; we could move them. Though you are right, there is no place, or way, we could take care of this many people."

Alf wrapped his arm around the young warrior's shoulder, comforting him. He knew what it was like to see hundreds of people die, and he knew the pain of being unable to help them could hurt more than any physical wound or ailment.

The man lifted his head. "I noticed you have some type of travel spell?" he asked, a tiny bit of hope creeping back into his voice.

"We do," Alf nodded. "We could evacuate the entire city, and we may have to, but first, let's try and take out the blood oath."

"Why? Why not just run?" the vice champion asked.

"Because if we do, there's no telling how many will end up dying from starvation or dehydration," Alf explained. He reached down and detached his sword from his belt and handed it to Drake. "Just in case, though, Drake please explain how Traverse Wake works to-" Alf stopped. "You know what, I don't think I ever got your name."

The masked warrior tapped his face mask. "That's because no one's supposed to know. That's why I wear the disguise. That, and I think it makes me look cool, but I guess I can probably tell you. My name is Tairex Julian Havanger, son of Garvan Ajax Havanger, owner and operator of Glandledale's arena, but you can just call me Rex, most people do," the vice champion answered. "Try not to let too many people know though. If word got out that the owner of the arena's magicless son was vice champion..."

Alf smiled. "I understand. Rex it is then," he said as he took Zaphaniea from the maids and laid her over his left shoulder. "Drake, you teach Rex about Traverse Wake and I'll see to getting the girls to the healers."

Drake nodded, his expression still distant and cold, and Rex pointed. "The healers are waiting for you at a secret entrance over there."

Alf jogged over to where Rex had pointed. An older man with scars all over his face waited for him, along with a tall, bulky woman, and a young girl that couldn't have been more than seventeen.

"I am Cretan, manager of the arena's medical department," the older man said. He motioned at the tall woman then the girl beside her. "She is Gerhard, chief healer, and this is her assistant Katerina. Please follow us," he continued as he pulled away a section of the wall leading to the long, circular hallway of the undercroft.

Alf nodded and they led him inside and down the hallway to a giant medical room which appeared to stretch halfway around the arena. Medical equipment covered its walls and floors, just like his hospital at home, but the smell was quite different. The stench of body odor, and the acrid scent of lightning magic, along with herbs, earth, and the ambrosial aroma of healing magic, all mixed into one odd fragrance that lingered in the air.

He crinkled his nose as he softly set Olivia and Zaphaniea down on medical beds placed against the inner wall where Cretan indicated.