by Wolfe Locke
The practice dummies were gone, and a second Practice Arena had been constructed next to the first. Three spider-monsters scrambled to lay sawdust down in the new Arena as two others finished building the wooden barrier that separated it from the rest of the Grounds.
“What’s going on?” he asked Colubra as they strapped on their armor.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Crixa’s acting really strange. They were here all night getting this ready. Who knew they could work this fast?”
Tetraites looked around. It was impressive that the creatures had put this together, but he couldn’t help feeling that it was a bad sign. This much change this quickly probably meant that things were about to get worse.
“Gather up!” Crixa shouted across the Training Grounds. “All Champions to me. Now!”
The gladiators looked around at each other, baffled. Crixa had never addressed them all simultaneously like this.
“Are you deaf?” Crixa said. “Can you hear me? Gather up now. You’re wasting time, and we don’t have a lot of it.”
Some of the Champions were still buckling their armor as they filed over to Crixa. He was standing at the center of the new Arena surrounded by chattering spider-monsters. At his command, two of them sprinted off across the Grounds and out of sight.
“We’re changing things up a bit,” Crixa said when the Champions had gathered around him. “The Dark Lord feels that we’re working too slowly. He wants us to intensify our training and focus on battles in the Practice Arenas. As you can see, we’ve made a second one so two bouts can take place at a time.”
Tetraites felt his stomach sink. More battles? He was already tired enough as it was. And I’m dead with the stamina to boot. I wonder how others feel about this.
“Things are about to get much more difficult,” Crixa said, “but I know you all can do it. Don’t forget: you’re the Dark Lord’s champions. He personally selected you from the Well of Souls. You wouldn’t have been chosen if you didn’t have what was required.”
Some of the other Champions looked pleased at this, but Tetraites only felt even more uneasy. It felt like Crixa was trying to make himself feel better about something he was about to do. And why now?
“The Dark Lord will continue to modify your training regimen as he sees fit,” Crixa went on. “But I can tell you this much. Your Arena battles will be more challenging and more frequent. And in practice, there will be no more blunted weapons. All training battles will be fought with steel.”
The Champions murmured to each other in shock. Real steel meant real injuries—in addition to the injuries they suffered in the Arena.
“Is he trying to kill us?” Colubra hissed.
“Maybe,” Tetraites said, looking across the crowd at Yarrl. The revenant was smiling.
“Finally,” Crixa said. “The Dark Lord wants to observe your training battles. He wants to hunt out your weaknesses—and force you to face them, both here and in the Arena. Only by confronting our fears can we overcome them!”
“Very inspiring,” Tetraites muttered, and Colubra snickered.
Crixa raised his voice as he brought his speech to a rousing conclusion. “The first set of battles will take place today. The Dark Lord will be in attendance. I will hand out your assignments after you’re done warming up. Remember—always fight with honor, and you shall prevail.”
“Some of us will prevail,” Colubra whispered. “The rest will be dead.”
Tetraites nodded. “Then we must ensure that we are not among the dead.”
Their warm-up was brief, and Tetraites spent half of it watching Crixa hand out battle assignments. Tetraites suspected he knew exactly whom he’d be fighting. He was ready for it. The revenant would not be allowed to defeat him again.
Sure enough, when Crixa handed him the piece of parchment with his assignment slip, Yarrl’s name was on it.
“I had hoped this could be avoided,” Crixa said, but Tetraites shook his head. “This was not my idea.”
“I am glad this is happening,” Tetraites said. “I can defeat him now.”
Before Crixa could say more, the sound of heavy footfalls rang out across the Training Grounds. The Champions all fell silent. It was the Dark Lord accompanied by one of the other Lords of Pandemonium, the Scarred Man. As always, his glacial armor was the inky black of the starless void.
“Master—” Crixa stammered, but Zekant raised his hand to cut him off.
“Lord November and I have come to see training battles,” he said. “But I see none. Is there a problem?”
“We—” Crixa said, but the Dark Lord cut him off again.
“You,” he said to Tetraites. “Slave. You will go first.”
Tetraites ignored the word “slave.” He would not allow the Dark Lord to anger him or distract him from his purpose. He nodded, saying nothing, and climbed into the closest Practice Arena. Colubra and Selesius gathered by the wall to watch, but he ignored them. His focus was only on the fight ahead.
Across the Arena, the revenant was also preparing for battle. It wore no armor but a plain iron helm, but its eyes burned with yellow fire. It would not allow itself to be defeated easily.
The gladiators saluted each other and bowed low to the Dark Lord. Then, as in the real Arena, he nodded to signal the start of the battle.
Immediately Tetraites struck out, sending a Frost Nova at Yarrl. The revenant dropped flat to the ground, ducking Tetraites’ attack, and transformed itself into a tiger. The creature’s body was rotting, and half its ribs showed through a hole in its putrid flesh. Its pelt was slimy with decay.
Roaring through desiccated vocal cords, the dead tiger leaped for him. Its teeth were cracked and yellow with plaque. Tetraites raised his spear, aiming for the tiger’s vulnerable belly. He thrust upward—and immediately, the revenant changed again. It was now a large bat with ragged wings, which flew above Tetraites’ head, shrieking. His spear pierced empty air.
The bat circled the Practice Arena, flying low, and landed on the far side, away from Tetraites. It turned into a snake as soon as it touched the ground, just like before. Tetraites clutched his spear, determined not to let the revenant -adder bite him this time.
“Jussssst like we did before,” Yarrl taunted, black tongue flicking between its fangs. “Ready for another round?”
It’ll be different this time. Tetraites summoned Ice Blades to swirl around him, giving him some protection from attacks. Before the snake could move, Tetraites reached into his spacial ring and pulled out his spear, and threw it before grabbing his sword. The attack hit home—the spear buried itself in Yarrl’s side. He stared at Tetraites wide-eyed, shocked. Black blood dripped down from its flank.
“First hit,” Tetraites said, and the snake rushed him in a fury.
He leaped out of the way, dodging its deadly fangs, and rounded on it again, spear in hand. Left, right, he feinted with the spear, then threw another ice volley at the snake. It ducked, and the icicle flew harmlessly over its head. Tetraites gritted his teeth, irritated. Damn.
Eyes burning, fangs dripping poison, the revenant rushed him again. This time, Tetraites was ready. He threw up a wall of power, only requiring a fraction of what Glacial Fortress was capable of between himself and the snake.
Hissing, it tried to draw up short, but its momentum carried it forward. At the last second, it transformed itself into a bat again, barely clearing the ice wall as it took off flying. Tetraites sent Frost Nova after Frost Nova at the bat as it circled the Practice Arena, trying to bring his enemy down.
“Brave effort,” the revenant said, jaw flapping. “But you can’t hit—”
Tetraites’ next attack hit it. The bat crashed to the ground and lay there for a moment, stunned. Clutching his sword, Tetraites sprinted toward it, hoping he had a moment before it was able to move again.
He was not so lucky. Yarrl changed into a shriveled scorpion and lashed out with its deadly tail as soon as Tetraites got within range. Tetraites dodged—just barely
—and the scorpion’s sting thudded harmlessly into the sawdust. Harmlessly—this time. It pulled its tail up and prepared to strike again.
The two opponents circled each other, looking for an opening. The icicle was still buried in Yarrl’s side, and his scorpion-body was missing two legs, making its movements awkward. In this form, it would be slow to react. How could Tetraites take advantage of its weaknesses?
Quick as a flash, he made his move. Pelting the revenant with ice magic, he sprinted toward it, aiming for its tail. Yarrl struck out with its stinger repeatedly but, blinded by Tetraites’ barrage of ice, it missed every time.
Tetraites leaped onto Yarrl’s back and grabbed the base of its tail, drawing on the magic of Frost Nova to freeze the tail solid. He pulled his Spear out of the revenant and hit it hard with the pommel of his sword. The tail shattered into a thousand icy pieces, and the revenant hissed with pain. Spinning in circles, it tried to twist its head around to grab Tetraites with its mandibles, but it was too clumsy. Tetraites used the same technique to freeze and shatter another of its legs, then jumped off its back to see how the revenant would proceed.
“Foul tricks!” it screamed at him, limping on its five remaining legs. Tetraites rolled his eyes. Using its poison to weaken him wasn’t a foul trick? Yarrl was a hypocrite.
Tetraites raised a hand to shoot a volley of ice at the scorpion, but Yarrl was faster. The revenant transformed into a scrawny jackal and leaped for him, teeth bared. Tetraites blasted it with an Frost Nova, and it fell to the ground, whining.
It became an eagle and flew toward him, talons ready to rake across his skull, but Tetraites struck out with his spear and slapped it out of the air. It screeched angrily and became a dragon, flame burning in its belly. Tetraites could see the fireball building at the back of its throat as it opened its fanged mouth, preparing to strike.
Fire met ice in a wall of sparks as Tetraites countered with an attack of his own. The dragon roared, furious, as it was forced to use up its strength, fending off Tetraites’ ice magic. It doubled down, trying to push the ice back, but its efforts were in vain. They were evenly matched.
The creature closed its mouth suddenly and shot up into the air, letting Tetraites’ ice shoot past the empty space where it had just been. Tetraites watched the revenant dragon circle above him, waiting for it to get within range. Every time it transformed it healed itself, at least partly. How could he keep this fight from going on forever?
“Tetraites!” someone shouted. He looked over. It was Colubra, leaning up against the Practice Arena wall.
“Freeze it,” she said. “Every time it tries to shift. Keep it from changing shape!”
Tetraites looked at the revenant flying above his head. It was a good idea. But he didn’t want to freeze Yarrl as a dragon. If he wounded it, though, it would have to change to heal itself.
Gritting his teeth, he fired a rapid volley of ice at it, trying to bring it down. It weaved around the flurry of Frost Novas, but it couldn’t dodge them all. A large ice shard lodged itself in the dragon’s wing, and it crashed to the ground, screeching.
It transformed into a dire wolf, and Tetraites moved quickly.
As he had with the iron golem in the arena, he encased the revenant in solid ice, leaving it frozen solid except for its face. It struggled to free itself, but all it could change was its head. It flickered between forms—lizard, falcon, crocodile--while its body remained stuck as a wolf. Finally, it stopped panting. Its head had become that of a man.
Tetraites narrowed his eyes, knowing the battle was over. He had toyed with the revenant long enough. Drawing on his memories of the Arena, he gathered his magic to him and twisted it sideways with his mind. Storm of Swords. The entire Practice Arena lit up with blue fire as icicle after icicle slammed into Yarrl’s body, lifting it off the ground. The revenant screamed in agony as the ice pierced its flesh.
It was an eerie, high-pitched wail, the sound of a dead thing dying again. Tetraites laughed as he watched Yarrl suffer. He knew it was cruel, but the rush of power as he used his magic to its full potential was intoxicating. He kept the relentless barrage of ice going long after he knew he had won.
Finally, he let it subside. Yarrl was on the ground, twitching. It still wasn’t dead yet. Its yellow eyes goggled up at Tetraites helplessly, looking for mercy, but Tetraites wasn’t feeling particularly merciful. Spear in hand, he stalked over to the revenant, moving deliberately and purposefully. It was time to end this.
Tetraites looked at Zekant, who nodded, pleased. It felt good to have the Dark Lord’s approval. He looked down Yarrl’s quivering body. Pathetic.
“I said I’d kill you,” Tetraites said quietly. “I do not make idle threats.”
“We all act according to our nature,” Yarrl gasped. “The Dark Lord made me this way. I do only what I have been created and commanded to do.”
Zekant hadn’t heard the revenant’s comment. He was grinning widely, face shadowed by his glacial helm. Tetraites felt a prickle of unease. What if the revenant hadn’t been the soul of Pyke Wildwood at all? What if it had been a simulacrum created by the Dark Lord to test him? Was he being manipulated?
Yarrl heaved on the ground. “If you’re going to kill me, do it now,” it rasped. “I am tired of living in this useless body.”
Tetraites raised his spear high—then stopped. He ran his tongue over his fangs. His vampiric aspect had been underutilized to date and had grown dormant. He no longer benefits from it. Throwing the spear aside, he kneeled to the ground.
“Don’t worry,” he said to the revenant. “Part of you will live on.”
Then he sank his teeth into revenant’s throat. The revenant twitched and heaved as Tetraites drank its putrid blood. It tasted awful, like the grave, but Tetraites swallowed it anyway. He could feel himself absorbing Yarrl’s power and abilities. Finally, with one last dying convulsion, the revenant lay still.
Notification: Ability Gained “Monster Transformation”
Details: You have gained the ability to transform into monsters.
Current Forms – Giant Bat, Dire Wolf, Lesser Dragon, and Nagini.
Notification: Ability Evolution “Ice Monsters”
Details: The ability Monster Transformation has evolved, becoming “Summon Ice Monster.”
Current Summons – Ice Bat and Ice Wolf.
Notification: You have unlocked Vampiric Aspect Type III.
Details: By consuming a fully sentient being, you have taken a portion of its power for yourself. In the future, any opponents destroyed this way will also provide additional stats.
Tetraites stood up. He felt incredibly powerful like he could conquer the world. Tetraites the Conqueror, indeed. It was the first time he felt worthy of the name. He shot a volley of ice magic across the Practice Arena, and it came out wolf-shaped and running.
Ice creatures. A new ability. He had absorbed that power from the revenant. His vampiric nature would come in handy, after all.
His ice wolf loped over to the Dark Lord and sat at his feet, ears pricked attentively. Zekant patted its head, then snapped his fingers. The wolf dissolved into a flurry of snowflakes. Tetraites gritted his teeth, irritated. Zekant had destroyed his wolf!
Unfazed, he sent out three more. They sprinted around the Practice Arena exultantly, howling. The other Champions had joined his cohort to watch the fight, and they cheered as the ice wolves passed them.
Wiping the revenant’s rancid blood from his face, Tetraites grabbed his spear and raised it high—not to Zekant, but to the crowd.
“You see!” he shouted. “I have destroyed the revenant. And if anyone thinks to come after me, I will do the same to them!”
The crowd of monsters did not respond, fearful of their Dark Master and drawing his wrath.
His own name ringing in his ears, Tetraites turned to look Zekant right in the eyes as his wolves gathered around him. He did not salute.
Behind him, the other champions moved away, fearful of what h
e had become.
Zekant was conflicted as he returned to his quarters. He had been pleased with Tetraites’ victory over the revenant, but the skeleton’s sudden insubordination had disturbed him. This was not how things were supposed to go. His champions were meant to be obedient and loyal without question.
“Crixa,” he snapped as he sat at his desk. The spider-monster appeared immediately.
“Yes, master?” The spider monster replied, hoping to avoid the conversation.
“What was that today?” Zekant said.
“He defeated the revenant,” Crixa said uncertainly. “As you had hoped.”
“You think that went exactly as I had hoped?”
Crixa shuffled uneasily. “Tetraites has spirit. You knew that when you resurrected him from the Well of Souls. Master.”