The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
Blood Reckoning
Was this the power of six-circle spells? My mouth dropped at the staggering amount of mana present in the spell, far overwhelming anything I'd experienced. The massive magic circle rotated slowly, hundreds of feet above the arena, and emitted a terrifying aura. Chunks of rock and fire materialized within, clumping together to form a solid mass at the center. Even with my mind muddied with pain, I knew we couldn't survive this.
Soltair slashed toward me, releasing a wave of light from his sword. I turned, open-mouthed as it flew above my head and into the descending sword of Kirla. She'd gotten within striking distance without me noticing, and would surely have landed a finishing blow.