Haekril didn't spare the undercover guard another look, as he choked. Drawn forth by Otis' battlecry, the rescue mission had not gone as they envisioned. Gone were the coordinated lines and easy access to the nullification shielding, that covered the arena in a translucent protective dome. Getting into position was slower but safer. Across the various levels, overlooking the arena, lower-level individuals clamoured to claim their place closest to the wall. They couldn't resist the call to be closer to the spectacle, as though they needed to pay homage to the battle-cry of this immovable individual. This only prompted others to vie for better seating, further reducing visibility and continuing the cycle.

  Fortunately, a sea of intermingled bodies hid the blacksmiths' assault from the prying eyes of their adversaries for precious moments. It allowed them to sidle up to the barrier and securely grip their weapons, channelling mana through the metal almost entirely unnoticed. It took only a short while for Haekril to stake his claim next to the barrier. Shortly after, he had to presume the others had used their powerful physiques to claim positions along the areas closest to the nullifying barrier too. He drew his hammer before slamming it down. Even reinforced the dark masonry fell, crumbling to the strike of a blacksmith and the dismantling power of his attack. The shower of dust and stone had been the signal and it was effective enough. Alerted by the strike the other smiths began their assault. The signal had been drew the attention of the smiths but also that of the undercover guards. Quickly slipping between the crowd, the first guard had arrived at Haekril's position but was left clutching his lungs as his chest plate crushed inward.

  'Wearing armour against a blacksmith was like playing tug of war with the rope wrapped around your neck,' Haekril thought, as he turned back to the nullification shield.

  Massive amounts of mana fuelled this behemoth. MASSIVE amounts. The field would eat away at anything and everything that dared to touch it. Whilst it might sound impenetrable, as it almost always would be, this was a minor issue for blacksmiths. Their strikes were both overwhelmingly capable of penetration but also of manipulating mana in a way that combat-focused classes often weren't. Only rare individuals who specialised in disintegrating mana or dismantling enchantments and runic labyrinths would be more effective.

  Haekril's next strike was timed to perfection and landed in synchrony with the other guild members, responding to the signal. Attacking in unison, the nullification shield rippled as it tried to shift against its denaturing, its internal strength torn asunder. Pulling back, Haekril channelled mana into his hammer, whilst another half of the guild struck the barrier. Operating in two halves the guild was able to apply nearly constant pressure to the barrier. Against so many specialised attacks that encompassed its circumference across several layers of the arena, the protective shield had no time to repair or restructure.

  ——————————————

  The first beast erupted from its position when the chains around its neck fell away. Otis had made a good bet on which beast would be released first but he was still wrong. Instead of the praying mantis-like insectoid, it was an avian species. Resembling a gryphon, the beast had dark muddy plumage across a heavily muscled physique. It had large wings and a head like an eagle, though its claws were far more exaggerated than the ancient myths had described. Curved talons large enough to encircle Otis' torso were attached to birdlike paws, that flexed with power.

  Struck back in moments, the speed of the gryphon was insane. Otis staggered to regain his balance and tracked the creature as it flew, circling back toward him. A quick glance at his shield revealed heavy damage already. A deep bite had been taken from the side of the shield, as though it was little more than a snack.

  ——————————————

  Haekril wielded his war hammer like a rapier. Flicking one way and then another, he feinted an overhead swing before twirling the weapon back and around. The hammer decimated his opponent's jaw and skull. Against the unstoppable force of the smith, the front of the guardsman's face splintered as the metal head passed through seamlessly. The spray of blood and gore exploded long before the body fell, soaking retreating patrons as Haekril returned to his work.

  After several coordinated rounds of striking the nullification barrier, the smiths could feel it weakening. The mana reserves maintaining the shield were running dry.

  ——————————————

  Undercover, plain-clothes, guards were meant to eliminate threats within the arena before they had a chance to take root. They were meant to alert the Overlord of any changes or unexpected assaults. In either case, this hadn't happened. After many guards were immediately executed for increasingly slight infractions, none of the guards wanted to report the assault on the arena and many were now already dead. The attack on the arena had claimed many within their ranks but the risk of informing the Overlord and taking on his wrath was too high. Coordinated across the various levels, there were too many smiths and too much working against them. Although the crowds dispersed in small circles around the war hammer-wielding assailants, there were still too many to traverse the grandstands effectively.

  The overlord ought to have noticed, he ought to have taken action. Instead, his eyes never left the boy diving about the arena.

  'Finally, the boy will die,' Chrysos had confidently thought. There was something about the boy that unsettled him, something he couldn't put his finger on. It was a small something but enough that he didn't feel comfortable looking away, as though the fates would cheat him from this victory if he did. At every other hurdle the boy had managed to survive and progress, maybe he would find a way to continue on again. It wasn't possible, Chysos knew that, but the threat against his own existence was now too high to take lightly. Even if, by some miracle, the late bloomer defeated all four beasts, he would crush the boy himself. He had to.

  ——————————————

  "ONE, two, three four... ONE, two, three four... ONE!" Haekril shouted, channelling all his strength, as he timed his strikes.

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  The barrier had taken an absurd level of abuse from the guild and still it persisted. The artefact at the centre of the formation was certainly effective but he could feel it was on the brink of collapse. Guards had come and gone and each of his fellow guildsmen had defended admirably. Overwhelming strength had been the name of the game. Given the tight space, created by the crowd, the guards lacked their usual mobility and even using a shield succumbed to their strikes quickly. He hadn't seen or heard any casualties as of yet, but it was only a matter of time if the nullification barrier maintained its strength. They had torn apart an ocean of mana, using their smithing skills to unweave the formation, and it was teetering on cessation.

  "ONE, two, three, four... ONE, two three four"

  ——————————————

  Defending against a gryphon capable of immediate adjustments and aeronautical manoeuvres that shouldn't have been possible had been a nightmare. Otis had long since ditched the tattered remains of his shield and resolved to fight fire with fire. Abandoning fear and charging towards the incoming beast had scared it off but still allowed one of its talons to shred his back armour. He watched the beasts circle around again, knowing his next strategy would hurt him.

  Otis charged the incoming oversized bird again, spinning his weapon around to utilise the sharp rear end. He swung the war hammer up, watching as the gryphon span to the side, and then mimicked the action thrashing back and twisting. Talons narrowly missed taking a chunk of flesh from his back, but his war hammer landed true. The spiked side of the hammer pierced the feathered wing of the beast and yoinked Otis into the air.

  "KAHHH"

  The force of the sudden shift in momentum almost tore his arm off. If his physique hadn't been empowered, he had no doubt his shoulder would have been severely dislocated as a best-case scenario. Still, judging from the pained caw, it had hurt the gryphon significantly more than it had hurt him.

  Unable to control its flight, the beast fell into the cracked earth of the arena floor. Pecking with fury, the Gryphon tried to get at its attacker, only to find he had vanished. Aware of the impending danger, Otis had used the force of the flailing wing to dislodge the hammer and slide into close range of the bird. Its muscular body rippled with power so its bird-like head became the new target of Otis' attack, despite the gryphon using its talons to blindly grasp something it couldn't see. Guided by luck more than judgment, Otis managed to get close enough to slam the spiked end of his warhammer into the feathered throat of the bird. Powered with Mana Shielding, even though the embued feathers dispersed some of the power, the spiked tip lodged itself in the gryphon's gullet.

  "EEEEAH"

  A gargled rasp shrieked from the beak. Otis retreated back, prepared for the violent rage of an injured beast. The gryphon recoiled, stamping its feet against the cracked earth, till it could relocate its prey. When its eyes locked on Otis, the avian beast threw itself into the air. High above Otis, the gryphon would not back out of its next dive.

  There were too few options left for Otis when the outstretched talons locked onto him. Without a shield, he couldn't block such a direct attack. He couldn't dodge such an agile aerial attacker. Committing to a last-ditch effort, Otis took a gamble on an untested strategy. Thankful he hadn't pursued heavier weaponry, he wrenched the war hammer behind his head and threw it forward with all his might.

  Such was the force of the throw, Otis flung himself to the ground, unbalanced. If he hadn't landed a meaningful hit on the gryphon, he'd have lost his weapon and defenceless he would have been dead in moments.

  There was silence for a moment before a thud only metres away threw up a cloud of dirt and dust. Scrambling to his feet, Otis spread his arms ready to lunge away from any continued attacks. When the dust began to settle, the shadow of the gryphon stayed motionless. Laying in the dirt, it quickly became apparent that the beast wasn't breathing. Blunt force trauma appeared to have ruptured the gryphon's left eye and its socket. With its depth perceptions thrown off and in pain, it had slammed into the ground. The war hammer couldn't be seen but an aggressively rapid pool of blood suggested that somewhere under feather and muscle it had landed on the spiked end, piercing something vital.

  Otis hadn't realised just how unlucky this was till the chain of his next opponent dropped. Without a shield and now without the means to get to his weapon, his chances of survival plummeted.

  Released from its chains, a Cyclops look-alike roared alive with its newfound freedom. Hairy was an understatement but below the waist the creature was essentially half wooly mammoth. Huge in every way, the cyclopes stared Otis down, its singular eye dominating its forehead. Held in its hands, a huge blackened club swung through the air as it limbered up. Despite its size, it possessed the athletic speed that all mages, beasts, and abominations seemed to develop. It was yet another moment where Otis wondered what this creature's base stats would have been.

  Given that his own speed was lacking, he had only moments to find his war hammer before the Cyclops was on him. Ruffling through the bloodied plumage and taught muscled flesh his war hammer was truly out of reach. The moment Otis tried to shift the weight of the beast, he realised just how heavy it was and how fortunate he had been that it hadn't landed on top of him.

  The Cyclops had barrelled towards him with unnerving speed, so unlike how the species had been represented in myths. Before Otis could find his weapon or retreat the creature demonstrated its incredible strength. Bringing the blackened club down, the Cyclops missed Otis but managed to mash the gryphon's head into a pulp of bone and gore. There was nothing to do but flee.

  If Otis could manoeuvre near the wall, maybe he could use his opponent's size against him. He could figure out how to injure the thing later. This wasn't the first time that Otis had been on the ropes but he felt more like prey now than he had, even against the fell hound. There was something about the very human about the way the Cyclops manically ran towards him. It felt truly primal.

  All around the arena, an explosion of sound detonated as Otis reached the wall. It was unusual but he was too preoccupied to care about what sounded like white noise. Having escaped to the furthest reaches of the arena, Otis braced himself to face the cyclopes. Even at a distance, he could smell the stench of matted hair, as it got ever closer. Moments from him, the creature stopped, only for its eye to rapidly glow. Otis had run himself into a corner. There was nothing else to do, no more outsmarting. Only a brutal kind of luck would save him now.

  "FUCK! YOU! ARHHHH!"

  It wasn't a line meant for the history books but it was what every great man would scream when backed into a corner. With nothing less to lose, Otis charged the Cyclops down. Aware there was little-to-no way he would dodge whatever the creature was about to throw his way, threw himself towards the giant. He was pitted against a larger, stronger opponent but he didn't have to make killing him easy. He wouldn't give up.

  As it all should have come to an end, Otis watched the blossoming eye of light erupt into blood as the cyclopes' skull imploded. Stood atop the beast was a man wrapped in a cloak, that clearly hid heavy armour beneath it. A shield from the man's bracer shifted mechanically into existence in moments, as a hail of gore showered the newcomer. The man shook most of the Cyclops debris from his weapon, a war hammer reminiscent of Otis' own. Turning back to him, Otis breath hitched as he saw a familiar face.

  "Sorry, we took so long," Haekril rasped.