by Aaron Oster
“Begging won’t help you, filth!” one snapped.
“Yeah, you’re going to die. And it won’t be pleasant,” the other said as he unlocked his manacles.
Yeah, no shit, Arthur thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. These guards were even dumber than the animals in the Dungeon. At least they’d been able to recognize and properly handle a threat.
“On your feet!” the gray one said, grabbing him under his arm and hoisting him up.
These people were also more like animals that ani-humans, and if Arthur hadn’t already met White and Boris, he might have thought that that might have something to do with their intelligence. However, there seemed to be a clear difference between these guards and the higher-ups.
He really had to figure this out. It was starting to bug him.
“Move!”
Arthur felt a sharp jab in his back as the tan guard prodded him in the back with his sword. He debated killing the idiot but decided not to bother. He needed to save his strength for the coming fight. Besides, the guard had only managed to inflict a measly single point of damage, and when he checked their levels, he saw that they were both level 7.
Why would the Baron send such weaklings to escort me? Arthur wondered as he was shepherded into the hallway, then through the single door that led to the entrance to the pit.
He had no idea where White was, but he assumed he’d be meeting him in the arena. He didn’t know how the Feline would react to being forced into a fight, or if he would blame him for his predicament. But from what he’d seen of the Serval, he wouldn’t hold him responsible. Probably.
Arthur could dimly hear the roar of the crowd, growing louder by the second as he was escorted into a small room. There were just two doors, one leading back to the prison and the other, out into the pits.
White was already there and waiting for him.
“Took you long enough to get here,” he grumbled, shooting the guards a sidelong glare.
The guards didn’t say anything, merely scurrying out, slamming the door behind them and leaving him alone with the massive Feline.
Arthur couldn’t bring himself to meet White’s eye. He knew it was his fault the Feline was here, even if he was glad to have someone fighting along with him.
“Look, White…” he began, but the Feline cut him off.
“Whatever you’re going to say. Don’t,” the Feline said, making Arthur wince.
He’d known the Serval would be mad. He would be, too, had their positions reversed.
“It’s my own fault I’m here, so don’t go blaming yourself.”
Arthur looked up at that to see the Feline staring at the door with his arms folded over his chest.
“You’ve got a good heart, kid, and there’s a time and place where that’ll get you far. But you also have to learn to balance that with strength. No one respects a weakling in the Animal Kingdom, no matter how kind or caring.”
White turned, meeting Arthur’s eyes with his single good one.
“No matter what happens out there today, remember that lesson. Here.”
White tossed something at him, and Arthur instinctively snatched it out of the air. It was a dull, rusted knife, and a cursory examination told him it was a single durability point away from shattering altogether.
“What’s this? Wouldn’t it be better if I fought bare-handed?”
White shook his head, leaning back against the wall and letting out a long breath.
“Raucus, the arena Champion, isn’t actually stronger than me on a physical level. However, he is uniquely suited to fight me.”
The piqued Arthur’s interest. He’d been assuming that the Champion would be a monster. So high leveled that it would be a miracle to defeat him, even with White’s help.
“How so?” he asked, fiddling with the pathetic excuse for a dagger.
“Like you, I depend heavily on unarmed combat. It’s my Class’s specialty, in fact. Raucus has a 3rd Tier Racial Bonus that nullifies 60% of the damage dealt by unarmed attacks. Furthermore, his armor will be uniquely tailored to increase that, likely to around 75%. On top of that, he has another skill that allows double damage to be dealt to an unarmed opponent. Why else do you think the Baron felt so confident sending the both of us up against his Champion?”
“It almost sounds like his skill set was designed just to take you down,” Arthur said, his brow furrowing.
“That’s because it was,” White admitted. “Many years ago, during the reign of the previous King, I was the Champion. Raucus was an upstart who challenged me for my position regularly but always lost. Even once he specifically tailored his Class to defeating me, he still couldn’t hope to win.
“That was, until the old King died and the new one took over. That was when fighting in the arena turned into slaughter in the pits. After I refused to kill the first batch of unarmed and defenseless innocents, Raucus challenged me.
“The fight was not an easy one, but I’d defeated him so many times that I grew careless. I admit that I wasn’t thinking too clearly either, my anger over the situation clouding my judgment. And when he unleashed his newest ability, I was taken off guard. I was blinded in one eye and lost the fight.
“I was disgraced and dishonored. They wouldn’t kill me, though. On the King’s orders, I was forced to bear my shame, forced to go on, working in these cursed pits, watching death daily, much as you have been over the past few weeks. But, as it seems, the Baron has been petitioning the King for a rematch for quite some time.
“He’s been looking to get rid of me for a while now, as he thinks I’m too soft to be a Feline. I didn’t conform to the new regime. Plus, he suspects me of feeding information to outside sources. Regardless of that, it seems that the King has finally deemed me worthy of dying, but seeks to make even my death dishonorable, forcing me to fight by the side of a non-Feline prisoner.”
White shrugged, scratching at a spot above his eyepatch. His story had been delivered in a bored, almost dispassionate tone. It seemed that he didn’t care one way or the other, but the story finally gave Arthur some insight into the Feline’s past.
It explained why he seemed to care so little about everything and why death didn’t seem to affect him at all. But his story also introduced a slew of unanswered questions- questions which he would be sure to ask him about once the fight was over.
“What’s the trick to beating him?” he asked.
“He’ll fight with a pair of sickles, an uncommon weapon in this part of the Animal Kingdom. His attacks will hit hard but not very fast. Remember, his skills and abilities are geared towards damaging unarmed opponents, so if you keep hold of that dagger, you should be fine.
“He also has a massive amount of health, so the trick will be to hit him hard and fast. I’ll take him from the front while you attack from the rear. He’ll likely focus on me, due to our shared history, but it wouldn’t take much for him to kill you. Aim for the weak points in his armor and try for a crippling blow.
“If you can take out his hamstrings or the tendons in his arms or shoulders, it would really help me beat him.”
“If fighting with a weapon will reduce damage, why give it to me?” Arthur asked, holding up the awful dagger. “Come to think of it, how’d you even manage to sneak it in?”
White grinned at that, his sharp teeth bared in a very self-satisfied way.
“I have my secrets. But that’s not important now. To answer your other question, let me answer it with one of my own.”
He straightened off the wall, just as the doors swung open, letting in the sounds of the roaring crowd.
“How do you think I was able to defeat him so many times, even when he had every advantage?”
Arthur saw the glint in the Feline’s eye as he turned, suddenly feeling a lot calmer about the upcoming fight. White was well informed on their challenger, and they had a plan to take him down. Now all he had to do, was hold up his end.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Arth
ur followed the Feline out into the arena.
***
White stepped out into the open arena for the first time in ten years. He took a deep breath, taking in the familiar scents: blood, sweat, and, above all, fear. There hadn’t been quite as much of the latter in his time as arena Champion, but times had changed.
He strode to the center of the arena, ignoring the jeers of the crowd and just took it all in. How many times had he wished to step back in here? To take his fate into his own hands. To make an actual difference.
No one saw it, but the Feline Empire was crumbling from within. They had turned from a once-proud Race to a bunch of squabbling children, each vying for the King’s attention or approval. The old King would never have allowed things to fall so far. But that was just the way of tyrants. They did what they wanted, leaving everyone else to pay for their mistakes.
His eyes flicked back to Arthur, watching as the boy strode into the arena with confidence. That was good, he knew. The frog boy would need every advantage in the upcoming fight. While White had told him all he needed to know about Raucus, he’d failed to mention that he, himself, might be the weak link here.
It had been years since he’d truly fought. Sure, he’d worked to undermine the current regime, doing whatever he could to hinder the Felines in their conquest, but it hadn’t even led to any physical confrontation. As such, he was out of shape. He hadn’t leveled in years, nor had he practiced his fighting skills. It would take him a few minutes to scrape off the rust. He just had to hope that Raucus’s skill hadn’t improved to the point where he wouldn’t be able to survive that long.
His eyes flicked up to the bleachers, one mundane, and the other, an artifact crafted by a dear friend, now long dead. This was something else he hadn’t revealed to Arthur. Not to anyone, in fact. It was the only way he’d managed to stay ahead of his enemies all these years.
He found who he was looking for, but he didn’t stop on them. That would be foolish. Instead, he allowed his gaze to sweep over the entire crowd, assessing threats and weak points.
The Baron’s box would be the obvious strong point in the stadium, as it contained both him and Boris, as well as a contingent of elite guards. The weakest point would be directly opposite to the box, furthest from the strongest fighters. That was their way out. He just had to hope all the pieces he’d put in place moved in the right order and at the right time. And the while fighting for his life.
Despite himself, White felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, even as the gates at the other end of the arena slowly opened. If anything, it would at least be an entertaining fight.
34
“Introducing our Champion, Raucus, the Master of Blades!”
The arena erupted into cheers, and Arthur turned to face the opening gates, catching the gleam of armor as a figure strode forward and out into the light of the midday sun.
Arthur’s eyes were immediately drawn to the Champion’s weapons, clutched as they were in twin paws. The two sickles were a bright silvery-white and glowed with the telltale light of Epic quality weapons.
His armor was next, a gleaming silvery breastplate, shimmering with the same light. Bracers and greaves of the same color covered his muscular arms and legs, and a full-faced helmed covered the Champion’s face.
He stood well over six feet tall, towering over him, as most creatures in this world did. It wasn’t his Epic weapons or armor that intimidated Arthur, but the confidence in which he carried himself, as though no one could touch him. He also radiated danger, just like he’d sensed from White the first time he’d met him.
His eyes flicked to White, and Arthur was surprised to see him smiling. Perhaps he was happy to finally get a shot at revenge? From what he knew of the Feline, it probably wasn’t that. Perhaps he was just excited to get to fight an old rival, to prove he was the best.
Raucus lifted his sickles into the air, pumping his fists to the roar of the crowd, riling them up until they were practically in a frenzy.
Arthur took the time to examine him, and thankfully, he was able to read the Champion’s information.
Name: Raucus
Race: Clouded Leopard (Humanoid)
Level: 21
HP: 1,080/1,080
Class: Anti-Monk
White hadn’t been kidding! His HP was insane! Just how many points did he have in Constitution!?
Arthur then realized that there was no way he could have so much HP without the help of items. And now that he focused, he could clearly see the gleaming rings decorating the Feline’s dark gray fingers.
His Class was a dead giveaway that he’d been offered the Monk Class at level 15. If this was the opposite of the Class, then it would indeed do what White said and aid in taking down unarmed specialists.
Luckily for him, unarmed combat wasn’t all he was good at, though the dagger he’d tucked into the band of his loincloth would likely only endure one or two attacks before breaking.
“I see that the Baron has indeed been generous!” Raucus boomed, turning to face the two of them, his bright green eyes locking onto White. “I never thought I’d see your cowardly face again, White, but it seems that I’ll have the opportunity to finish you off, for good this time!”
White didn’t dignify his taunt with a reply. In fact, he turned the other way, completely ignoring the Champion. Arthur saw through the tactic immediately, but apparently Raucus was a hothead, as he immediately responded to the insult.
“Think you can ignore me, huh? I’ll cave your damn skull in and use it as a latrine!” he roared.
“Looks like you’ve gotten him all hot and bothered,” Arthur observed as the Champion began yelling and screaming obscenities.
“He’s always had a short fuse,” White replied. “They’ll likely start the fight any second now, before he charges in ahead of the announcement…”
“Now for the spectacle you’ve all been waiting for!” the orator shouted, cutting off White mid-sentence. “By the grace of our Noble Baron, let the fight begin!”
Raucus’s body flashed bright red, and he roared, charging across the arena at an astonishing speed.
“Remember the plan,” White said, turning to face his opponent head-on, his body glowing with white light.
Arthur nodded then used Spring, launching himself to the side, even as the two Felines clashed. He felt the breeze kicked up by the Champion’s attack as he landed and ran to flank him. The two of them were moving so quickly it was hard to follow, which was surprising, seeing as his Agility was his highest attribute, and his Perception was nearing level 16.
They were also only a few levels above him. Was the difference between 15 and 21 really that big? In the old AKO it had been, due to the fact that XP costs doubled every ten levels, and they also had that many more levels worth of points to sink into their attributes. Add to that equipment and the bonuses from their Classes, and he shouldn’t be surprised.
Arthur dashed forward, going straight for the Champion’s back. White had him engaged fully by now, but his HP was dropping faster than Raucus’s was. He had to find some way to give White an edge.
He could dimly hear the orator yelling over the cheers of the crowd as he closed within ten feet, then used his Spring. He slammed into the Champion’s back, slapping him with a Poison Touch, then spun, triggering his Tae-Frog-Do for a triple kick delivered right to the Feline’s helmeted head.
“What?!” Raucus whirled as though only noticing for the first time that he was facing two enemies.
But by the time he turned around fully, Arthur had already flipped off his back. His eyes narrowed as he saw that his attack, which should have done 25 points of damage each, had done only a total of 18. Not good.
If he were facing the Champion alone, he’d have been very afraid. But luckily, he had a partner. White’s glowing fist slammed into the side of the Champion’s head, tearing the leather chin strap in half and sending his helmet spinning away.
White’s entire body flashed yell
ow as he triggered an ability while the Champion was off guard, and he crouched, slamming a fist into the ground. There was an explosion of sound and dust as the earth rippled, then exploded right at Raucus’s feet, sending a shower of shrapnel pinging off the Leopard’s body.
Arthur hadn’t wasted his opportunity. Charging forward, he entered the dust cloud on the Champion’s blink side, using his Perception to guide him. The dagger was in his hands in an instant, and he triggered several skills and abilities simultaneously, plunging the dagger up through a gap in his armor near his spine.
-115 Damage, Crippling
Arthur twisted the blade, feeling an immense satisfaction at having caused such a massive amount of damage to the Feline- especially so, because he managed it with his horrible weapon.
Raucus screamed in rage, his body erupting with crimson fire, and Arthur leaped back, dragging the dagger free, even as he sustained damage.
-12 Damage, Crimsonfire
-16 Damage, Crimsonfire
-22 Damage, Crimsonfire
Arthur hissed as the ability began eating away at his HP, but luckily, White engaged the Champion once more. As he landed back on his feet, quickly doing an HP and Stamina check, he noticed that White wasn’t moving as fluidly as he had been earlier.
And while Raucus’s HP had been dropped by nearly half, he was recovering. Arthur circled around, feeling very out of place in this fight as the two exchanged rapid-fire blows. White’s fists glowed yellow, the light increasing in brightness with each consecutive strike. Arthur knew he was probably building up to a big ability.
However, Raucus’s sickles flashed in a dazzling array of light, the Epic weapons tracing arcs of light through the air as they sliced into White. His fur was painted red from over a dozen cuts, and his HP was nearing the 30% mark. At this rate, he wouldn’t hold out much longer.
Arthur’s fist tightened on the dagger handle. It had withstood the first attack somehow. He didn’t doubt it would break on the next strike, so he couldn’t risk using it until the end of the battle, after they’d whittled his HP down some more.