I watched eagerly from the VIP box as the two warriors strutted out onto the battlefield. Brodir, the huge lycanid, walked calmly towards the centre. Two hand axes hung on his belt of skulls: a collection of his enemies worn as trophies – or so I’d been told. A larger axe hung limply across his bare back.

  Though his muzzle was greying and his eyes had begun to mist, his body was one of a much younger man. He was huge. Rippling muscles pushed tightly against his skin and his fur wrapped around a shapely, barrelled chest. The fur on his head was tied back in a braided mohawk and he had dyed it red for this battle. Face paint, which may well have been blood, drew runes across his face creating quite the fearsome visage.

  As he reached the centre of the field he held a single hand axe high in the air and screamed a deep, primal howl which reverberated around the stadium. Louder even than the cheering crowd of thousands of spectators. This was an impressive warrior and one that I was hesitant to face myself.

  Glancing to my side I saw Rex staring intently at the man. He was a hero to their people, a man who was more myth than historical figure. An old hat in the world of tournaments – though not high priest tournaments, supposedly he was over a century old despite only being the same rank as me. He had competed in arenas the world over and had won glory and fame for himself, yet I was more intrigued as to how a warrior of such renown could have plateaued at a level I had reached in a relatively short time. Was it the luck of the system, or was he simply not as strong as he seemed?

  Adolf Von Silver walked from the other side to meet his foe. I hated the man for what he did to Bell and would be happy to see him killed and humiliated in this battle. I’d seen a glimpse of his fighting prowess when we’d first arrived in Castalor’s Morningstar. He didn’t seem too impressive to me, though he also didn’t die, so that was something.

  He wore his usual hood which covered most of his face and a brynja adorned his torso in a chain-linked metal armour. A simple, yet gleaming, sabre hung loosely at his hip. I’d never really seen him fight before. I’d attacked him back when he’d kidnapped Bell but all of my attacks had missed back then. I knew he was nimble, but that was it.

  As the two approached each other, both men shook hands graciously and then turned, walking ten or so paces away from each other. It reminded me of an old-fashioned duel and that brought my mind careening back to the duels I had participated in back when I’d first arrived in Celestia. I wondered if that was what this was. If the men said so much as two words to one another, I didn’t hear them.

  “This will be a one-on-one duel to the death,” Chrysus announced and the crowd grew eerily silent. “Glory to the winner, commiseration to the loser. Fight with all the strength of the system. Fight for your gods. Fight with honour. Oh, and do try to make it entertaining.” He smirked and lifted both of his arms above his head. The world seemed to slow for a moment as his venomous grin enveloped my vision. For a single second, as his arms hung in the air, I could have sworn he was looking right at me with eyes which hungered.

  His arms dropped and the battle began.

  Brodir didn’t waste a single moment. The second Chrysus’ arms dropped to his sides the lycanid charged forward with the full force of an angry bull. He screamed, grasping both of his axes from his waist and jumping high into the air as his opponent stood still, seemingly caught off guard.

  The fierce lycanid crashed down with his weight and strength guiding the slash of both axes which seemed to be headed directly for Silver’s face. In a cacophonous crash, he landed and dust scattered across the battlefield obscuring my view. Silver was nowhere to be seen.

  “How did he dodge so quickly?” Bell asked.

  “I don’t know, mana?” Panda replied.

  All of our eyes were glued to the spot as the large silhouette of Brodir staggered around blindly inside the dust cloud. He seemed as confused as we were.

  Out of the dust I caught the glint of steel as Silver’s sword slashed down hard at a diagonal angle, seemingly from nowhere. Brodir parried with a single axe, just in the nick of time, but not before the tip of the sword’s blade nicked his cheek. The lycanid didn’t show any signs of pain, but it was clear who had the upper hand.

  Silver kicked out, his booted foot connecting with the lycanid’s stomach and sending him skidding backwards with an audible grunt. The crowd was silent, all eyes glued to the battle.

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  Brodir slashed with his free axe and Silver responded, lifting his free palm towards the weapon and firing off a small crackle of lightning tendrils which snaked from his hand and seemed to grab the axe blade, tossing it aside before striking once more, like a coiled serpent, and burrowing deep into Brodir’s shoulder.

  “What kind of magic is that?” I asked.

  “Living lightning,” Asmodeus replied. “I thought it was lost in this era.”

  “Apparently not,” Panda added. “Living lightning is an extremely rare form of attack magic which combines lightning mana and telekinesis mana. There are very few classes who can use both. As you saw, kid, it manifests as a moveable, lightning-like appendage which shocks and stabs the opposition whilst also being moveable like an extra limb. It’s especially powerful in close to mid-range combat.”

  “Is that how he dodged all my attacks when he stole Bell away?” I asked.

  “Maybe, though if he was at his current level back then as well it could have just been the difference in your abilities. You had only just passed the adventurer exam remember? You weren’t even half the level you are now.”

  I nodded as my eyes fought to keep up with the speed of the fight unfolding on the battlefield.

  Brodir, wincing from the wound caused by the lightning piercing his shoulder, pushed through the pain and gripped the blade of Silver’s sword with his free hand. He pulled the man in close and headbutted him fiercely in the face. Blood slashed outwards from under his hood and the lycanid lifted his axe, slashing down unimpeded and hooking the beard of the axe behind the man’s collar bone.

  I winced as I watched it. He dragged silver forward, using the axe as leverage, and headbutted him in the face once again. The entire time he had his meaty hand wrapped around the sharp steel blade and blood was pouring from his palm. His teeth were gritted, fangs on full show, and his misted eyes were wide, reddened with rage as he headbutted Silver for a third time.

  Silver’s lightning tendrils pushed further into Brodir’s shoulder. I could see them clearly with my dragon’s eye as a dark purple aura pulsated and wriggled beneath his skin. They seemed to be spreading out in two directions, towards both his heart and neck.

  At their level there was rarely such a thing as a killing blow in the simple terms which humans from Earth understood. The heart could be healed, as could the neck and even the brain. Severe damage still delt a larger hit to HP, but it wasn’t usually enough on its own. Silver had to have known this, but both men seemed to be low on HP anyway by this point so it was still anyone’s match.

  Blood drenched them both. Brodir’s fur was matted with it and he looked thoroughly worn out. This had to be the final moments. What happened next would decide the battle.

  Brodir moved first. Simultaneously he wrenched his embedded axe forwards, snapping Silver’s colour bone which pierced his flesh: gleaming white ivory in a sea of blood. Flesh mounted like an exploding volcano as it wrapped around the protruding bone and he screamed a visceral, primal scream.

  At the same time, Brodir also twisted the sword’s blade around at an awkward angle. Both snapping Silver’s wrist and further slicing his own hand. Though he winced, he didn’t stop his assault for a second as he gripped the blade and began swinging violently at the hooded man’s face, using the hilt as a hammer.

  To my side I saw Bell smile, her eyes housed a flaming inferno of ferocity and I couldn’t begrudge her. Not one bit. Adolf Von Silver deserved all the pain he was feeling right now. I only wished I could have been the one to deliver it to him.

  “This is brutal,” Panda breathed, his trembling paw clutching at my leg. Though in a strange way, I felt exhilaration, and it worried me.

  Silver dropped to his knees, blood gushing from his covered face. His collar bone sticking up and forcing him to keep his head held high lest he impale his own neck on the jagged bone. The lightning tendrils still wriggled inside the lycanid but they were subdued, their energy seemed to be running out. It was obvious who had won.

  “Finish him!” A booming, joyous voice shouted. It bounced around the arena, stirring the silent crowd who began to cheer and scream for cries of blood and death. They were animalistic in their shouts, hungry for slaughter. As was I.

  I almost joined in but felt Rex’s calming hand pressing warmly down on my shoulder.

  “I know it’s exciting and I know you dislike Silver,” he said in a low, calm grumble. “But do not forget why you are here. This is to prevent war, not start one. See the horrors, don’t give into the frenzy. Don’t let it consume you. But remember this feeling, the rushing of blood, the heightened senses, the adrenaline. Remember it… and use it in your own battle.”

  I was wordless. I felt a calming wave wash over me. What had happened to me? I looked towards the source of the voice and saw a huge man standing with a goblet of wine next to him. It stood almost as tall as he was. Red wine dripped down his braided beard, his eyes were huge and bloodshot. He was baying for blood.

  Baccus.

  Had his aura affected me? I’d been in many battles by now and I’d never lost myself so completely before. My dragon’s eye saw something surrounding him. A close mist hung off him like a second skin. It barely held a colour, but I could feel it somehow. It felt nefarious and enchanting, both in equal parts. Was this his doing?

  My eyes flicked back to the battle.

  Brodir took a staggered step backwards, he panted heavily. His eyes were soaked in blood, fur matted, veined muscles pulsating and twitching as they pushed through his fur and bloated with battle pump.

  Pulling his largest axe from his back, he lifted it high above his head and swung down slicing Silver cleanly in two. Air forced its way outwards from both sides of the blade as if he had sliced oxygen itself and the body’s two halves slid away from each other as blood and guts slopped out of the severed frame, painting the ground a blackish crimson.