Leo came at me fast. His sword trailed red aura like a flame.
I dodged the first swing by reading his shoulder. The blade passed close enough to cut the air beside my ear. I'd seen Warrior forms before, watched Father and Rosswell enough times to know the rhythm. Steps, hands, swings, breath. Predictable if you knew what to look for.
But knowing and surviving were different things.
He swung again. I ducked and rolled sideways. The aura wave from his blade carved a line into the stone behind me.
I slashed at his arm with my dagger. The blade bounced off. I tried again, faster, aiming for his wrist, his neck, his side. Three quick cuts, each one hitting nothing but aura. The impacts hurt my hand, like striking iron. I couldn't even scratch him.
I ran. He followed.
"Annoying slave!" Leo roared.
Every time he caught up, I read the swing and moved. But I was getting slower. My body was giving out. Swollen cheek, the hit from the red-haired girl, the cut on my forearm. Every dodge cost more than the last.
I couldn't hurt him. I couldn't outlast him. His aura shield covered everything. No gap. No weak point.
Behind us, Claude was left alone engaging Varro. The floating mechanical balls released a bolt of electricity across the arena.
"Dear, stop! Focus on Varro!" Claude shouted. The mechanical balls floated at his sides, scanning and engaging.
Leo didn't listen. His eyes were locked on me.
That was it.
"Yeah! Listen to you lady, Leo," I said.
His face twisted. "Shut up, slave."
I threw the dagger.
Not at Leo. Past him.
Leo's eyes followed the blade for a split second, thinking I'd missed. The dagger flew straight at Claude.
Claude's hand came up. He deflected it with the barrel of his revolver. The dagger clattered to the ground.
But his eyes had shifted. Just for a moment. Just long enough.
The mechanical ball beside him spun sharply, its light flashing red like warning something terrible.
Claude's face changed. He knew.
He turned his head. Not toward the threat. Toward Leo.
Their eyes met.
Varro appeared behind Claude like smoke. A crimson pistol already formed in his iron hand, pressed against the back of Claude's skull.
Bang.
The sound cut through everything.
Claude's body pitched forward and hit the sand face first. The mechanical balls dropped from the air and rolled across the ground, lifeless.
Leo screamed.
It tore out of him as he charged toward Claude, sword dragging behind him, aura flaring wild and unstable. But Varro was already gone. His laugh echoed from somewhere in the arena, bouncing off the stone walls.
"Khuhahahaha!"
Leo dropped to his knees beside Claude's body. His hands were shaking. The sword fell from his grip and clattered against the stone.
He didn't speak. He just stared at Claude's face, half buried in the sand, one eye still open.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Then slowly, carefully, Leo reached down and placed his hand on Claude's chest. His fingers pressed in. Aura pulsed from his palm, faint at first, then brighter. Harder. Forcing something loose.
A small, bluish stone surfaced from beneath Claude's skin. It floated upward, flickering weakly.
Is that a core?
Leo cupped it in both hands. He brought it close to his face, his breath ragged, his whole body trembling.
"We'll be together forever," he whispered.
He put it in his mouth and swallowed.
For a second nothing happened.
Then his body seized. His spine arched backward. His mouth opened but no sound came out. The red aura around him turned black, spreading like ink through water. His muscles swelled as he absorbed the two mechanical balls into his body. Veins bulged across his neck and arms, turning dark. His eyes rolled back until only the whites showed.
The sound of his bones cracking filled the arena.
When his eyes came back, they weren't his anymore. The pupils were gone. Just flat, dead black.
He stood slowly. The sword lifted from the ground on its own, pulled by the black aura that now poured off him like heat.
Corrupted.
"WOAH! Luzerna has gone crazy!" the shirtless announcer screamed from above. "This match just got interesting!"
…
Varro watched from behind a boulder, catching his breath. Despite the blood and bruises, he was enjoying himself. Thanks to that boy, he got his revenge on Luzerna.
"Now only the corrupted one left," he muttered, grinning.
He tried to weave something from his iron hand. The crimson threads flickered and dissolved before they could form.
"Seems it's out of steam," he said, flexing the metal fingers.
It didn't matter. He still had another artifact.
He activated his Veil Cloak and surveyed the arena in silence.
The event had reached its peak. He needed to finish this in a way people would remember. The only real threat was the corrupted one. The rest he could deal with later.
The corrupted one was tearing through the arena. Then one of the mechanical balls spun sharply toward Varro's position. The corrupted one snapped his head in that direction and lunged. Every swing of his sword sent arcs of black aura that carved deep trenches into the ground.
The crowd screamed in excitement.
But it didn't matter. Varro's Hunter Intuition could read each swing before it landed. He dodged the first. Sidestepped the second. Blocked the third with his cutlass still sheathed.
Then one of the mechanical balls released a low burst of electricity. Varro's muscles spasmed for a second. The corrupted one lunged. Varro caught the blade on his iron hand and vanished.
"That was a close one," he breathed. A crack had appeared on his iron hand. "It seems he can use some Professor abilities too."
Then the red-haired girl woke up.
One moment she was lying on the ground. The next she was on her feet, snarling, her chains dragging behind her as she threw herself at the corrupted one.
The two of them collided with a sound that shook the arena walls.
"That girl is as durable as an Enforcer," Varro said, watching.
He smiled. Let them kill each other.
But that wouldn't work. He was the one who needed to kill them to gather fame.
He unsheathed his cutlass. Black energy oozed from the blade, different from the corrupted one's aura. Darker. Quieter. He didn't like using this weapon. It consumed the dead to fuel itself. But it could cut clean through flesh and soul.
Perfect for this fight.
"Hey! Stop!" the shirtless announcer yelled from above.
Varro glanced up. The slave boy was throwing rocks at the announcer from below.
"Is he an idiot?" Varro muttered, confused. "Well. It doesn't matter."
He vanished and joined the fight.
The corrupted one swung wide and Varro slipped inside the arc, driving his cutlass through the corrupted one's arm. The limb came off clean.
Black blood sprayed across the sand.
The corrupted one didn't scream. He just turned and swung with his remaining arm. Varro blocked it with his cutlass, but the force was stronger than he expected.
Pain flared. Varro felt his arm break as he slid back. The red-haired girl came from behind and slammed into him, clawing at his back like a wild animal.
Varro shook her off, but corrupted one kicked him in the chest and sent him crashing into a boulder.
Blood filled Varro's mouth. He spat and grinned.
Then he heard it.
"I ACCEPT!"
The words echoed across the arena. Varro looked up.
The slave boy hung from a rope, swinging above the arena. He was beaten, bloody, barely hanging on. He held the sparkling wand in one hand. Below him, the shirtless announcer dangled lifeless, tangled in the ropes.
Did he climb up there?
"I ACCEPT!"
Then a laugh rang out from the stands. Loud. Unrestrained. Thrilled. A young man sat somewhere in the crowd, his sharp eyes gleaming.
Killian.
Varro recognized him. They'd done business before. He had also tried to recruit Killian once, but Killian refused.
What was he doing?
Killian clapped his hands together once.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
What!
The first explosion hit the far wall. Then another. Then another.
A chain of blasts ripped through the arena, shaking the ground, cracking pillars, sending chunks of stone and dust raining down on the crowd. People screamed and scattered. The web-like chain dome fell. The stands buckled and collapsed in sections.
The arena was complete chaos.
Varro dodged the falling debris without effort. When the dust cleared, the arena was half destroyed. Fire burned in scattered patches. Bodies lay in the rubble. The cages had burst open. The crowd had spilled into the pit. Some running. Some fighting. Some are already dead.
Through the smoke, figures moved toward him. Eyes locked on him like they were looking at a pile of gold.
Bounty hunters.
"Hello, Mister Hunter," one man said, stepping forward.
"What a bunch of lowlife. Ganging up on an injured man," Varro replied.
"Which is perfect for us," the man said, opening his arms as more figures emerged from the smoke behind him.
Varro smiled.
"Come on then," he said, raising his cutlass.
The slaughter began.
…
Blood filled my mouth as I coughed into my hand. The explosion had thrown me to the ground. My right eye was swollen shut. My left arm was completely broken, hanging limp at my side. My whole body hurt like hell.
I felt like shit.
I never expected that stunt to work. But it was the only way to survive. If Killian was watching, I needed to get his attention. Hoping a stranger's interest would save me. Pathetic. But I was out of options.
Around me, the arena had become something else entirely.
Screams came from every direction. People tore at each other in the rubble, fighting over weapons, over coins, over nothing. A man lay face down in the dirt, still twitching, while two others stomped past him without looking down. Fire starting to spread even futher. Smoke rolled across the ground like fog. Somewhere in chaos, steel clashed against steel, and someone was begging.
It looked like a battlefield. It looked like a war I'd already lived through once.
Did I make the right choice? Killian definitely caused this explosion. This chaos. These people dying around me.
Then a blurred shape emerged from the smoke.
The corrupted Leo stepped forward, his blackened body covered in wounds. One arm was gone. Deep cuts ran across his chest and legs. But he was still standing. Still dragging his sword behind him, the black aura flickering weakly around the blade. His dead black eyes locked on me.
After all of this, he was still coming.
"Hahahaha!" I laughed, blood dripping. "Claude would be disgusted if he saw you like this, Leo."
He screamed. No words. Just hatred.
"WOAHHHHH!"
He charged.
I raised my fist for my last struggle.
Boom!
The red-haired girl hit him from the side like a battering ram. The two of them slammed into the edge of the crumbling arena wall. She grabbed his remaining arm with one hand and drove the claws of her other hand into his chest. She tore through flesh and bone, pulling out blood and entrails in a wet, awful mess. Her fingers hooked into his ribs and ripped.
But the corrupted Leo fought back. He bit down on her shoulder and thrashed. Both screaming. Both tear at each other like animals that had forgotten how to stop.
Creak.
A block of stone above them shifted. Then broke free.
The two of them crashed through the crumbling wall, sending stone and dust flying. The red-haired girl and the corrupted Leo disappeared under the rubble. Dust exploded outward. The ground cracked beneath the weight.
I stopped. I didn't know how to react.
Silence from the pile. Just settling stone and drifting dust.
I walked over slowly. Every step sent pain through my body. I climbed over the broken stone and looked down.
Leo was crushed. His body bent at angles that nothing alive could hold. The black aura was fading from his skin, dissolving like smoke.
Dead.
I shifted the rubble beside him. A hand stuck out from beneath a slab of stone. Tan skin. Red hair spilling across the dust.
This girl was crazy. Even with the damage she had taken, she was still fighting like a monster.
Was she really from the stories I'd read?
"Too bad. I really wanted to know about you," I muttered. I grabbed her wrist.
A pulse. Faint but there.
She was alive.
I started pulling the stones off her.
"Well, well. You look like a mess."
I turned.
Killian stood at the edge of the destruction. His stylish coat was dusty but untouched. The big man stood behind him, staring.
Killian tossed something at me. Metal glinted in the firelight.
A key.
It hit the ground at my feet. I picked it up and looked at it. Then at the collar around my neck.
"That's really amazing, Lucy," Killian said, grinning proudly. "I thought you were definitely going to die. But here you are, forcing me to execute my plan early."
I put the key in the lock. The collar clicked open and fell to the ground. The weight I'd been carrying for days dropped from my neck. I touched the raw skin where it had been and exhaled.
I looked at Killian. His eyes were full of thrill at what had happened.
Seemed like I might regret cooperating with this man.
"Can you save her too?" I asked, pointing at the red-haired girl.
Killian raised an eyebrow. Then he shrugged. "Nah. She's just a wild animal."
He was right. She tried to kill me. But even if it wasn't intentional, she saved my ass back there.
"I'll deal with her," I said, looking at him. "Please."
He paused. "Alright. But if you can't control that thing, I'll kill you both." Then he leaned closer. "You owe me."
The big man walked over and lifted the remaining stone off her like it weighed nothing. He slung her over his shoulder.
Killian turned and started walking through the smoke and fire, stepping over bodies like they were puddles.
"Keep up, Lucy," he called back. "This place is about to get worse."
I followed him out of the arena. Behind us, the screams and the fire kept going. Varro's laughter mixed with the clash of steel somewhere in the smoke.
I didn't look back.