Chapter 0007: The New Champion

I can see the bastard in the crowd. I bend under another axe swing and catch a glimpse of Mendacium standing up front. He gives me a wave and another surge of anger boils through me. No time to focus on it, though, this brute is charging me again. 

My muscles screaming in protest, I sidestep his cleave, the Goliath's axe nearly kissing my skin. The ivory shield I have attached to my arm is surprisingly light. I wouldn't trust it to take many more hits, however, especially not from an axe of this size. There's already a gash in the front, oozing a little of what looks to be blood.

"Run, run, little rabbit," The Goliath taunts in his booming voice. "I'll lick the meat off your bones soon enough."

I have to get in close, eliminate the advantage his axe has on me. I try and push in, only to be met with a rib cracking punch I can barely block. I wince behind the shield. 

Why is this guy so damn strong? 

I can feel the exhaustion gripping my body. The other matches have been taking their tolls, my body is covered in scrapes and cuts. The armor on my body, barely even held together with rotten scraps of leather, has been falling off all night. Retreating, I rip off the last piece, an old pauldron sitting on my shoulder. It wasn't going to protect much anyway.

We begin to circle each other, his movement confident and strong, my own hesitant and wary. The crowd is roaring, hecklers telling the Goliath to quit playing and finish me off. I have my own supporters in the crowd, it seems, but they are far and few in between.

The Goliath cracks his neck, a smile spreading as he closes the circle, getting closer and closer. I grit my teeth, readying my sword and crouching low, sitting on the balls of my feet. He may be bigger, stronger, and have more reach, but I should be faster and more cunning. 

I just have to get in.

In an explosive rush, we dive in for the final exchange. I'm pushing my body to its limits, my breath ragged, muscles screaming, blood pumping. I dodge the massive axe again, pushing in closer rather than retreating. The Goliath tries another punch, but I block it with the shield again. I can feel more pieces of it crumble to the dirt, but I take this opportunity to get in a stab at the Goliath's chest with my sword.

The Goliath is surprised, but he manages to shift his body enough, so I miss anything vital. Still, the wound is deep, and my efforts are rewarded with a gush of blood and a roar of pain. A grim smile plays across my lips.

In a sudden rage, the Goliath drops his axe and flashes an elbow strike into my arm holding the shield. I cry out as I feel the bones breaking, my arm bent at an awkward angle. Still, I push in deeper to the fray, gripping my sword tightly and running it up his body, trying to cut my way out.

The crowd is going wild as blood paints the floor, two men scrambling in the center, each trying ti survive. 

I have to pull away, dodging another punch that would've crushed my skull, but I don't lose grip on my sword. I pull it out tearing away even more flesh. The ivory gleam has been replaced by a deep crimson as the sword drips.

A deep gash covers the Goliath's chest. I might have punctured a lung, it seems. His movements are dulled, but his eyes are still screaming rage. Slowly, the giant man picks up his axe, pointing the head at me. 

"I'm going to enjoy crushing your bones, little rabbit." He growls, stepping closer.

My right hand tightens around the hilt of my sword as I set my jaw. The pain in my left arm is almost unbearable, but I have to endure.

Just a bit longer. 

The Goliath raises the axe above his head. I prepare for another cleave, but I am taken by surprise when he throws it. The spinning weapon whizzes at me, and I'm barely able to turn my head in time.

I feel a searing pain and feel something hit the ground next to my foot. Looking down, it's an ear. My ear. Blood spills from the side of my head.

I'm pulled back into the arena when I hear the sound of running footsteps. Looking up, the goliath is charging at me. Before I can react, he tackles me, pushing me into the ground and straddling my body with his legs. I try to raise my sword, but he pins my arm. 

With a grin, the goliath raises his other arm, hand curled into a fist. 

Blinding white light assaults my eyes as he pummels my face. Once, twice, three times.

I feel my nose breaking, teeth falling into my mouth, the taste of blood. The crowd is going crazy.

"What's the matter, little rabbit? Can't hop away anymore?" The Goliath grins, slamming his fist into my face once again. I can hear myself gurgle, choking on my own blood. My arm is fighting desperate to escape his crushing grasp, but I feel my consciousness fading. 

I move my lips, trying to say something, anything, but I'm only met with another punch. My legs are flailing, trying to find anyway to push this behemoth off of me, but it's to no avail. 

A knife flashes next to my head, nearly splitting off my other ear. It looks familiar, but I don't think about it. With an earsplitting roar, I move my broken arm, pushing past agony and grasp the blade. The Goliath is surprised and tries to stop me, but I push my arm up, driving the blade towards his thick neck.

A loud squelch as the knife enters his neck, a sharp twist from my wrist, blood gushing from the wound. The Goliath's mouth opens in a voiceless scream, bon top of me, blood replacing the sound, as he falls on top of me, body writhing.

Then he is still.

The crowd erupts, jeering and roaring. People are demanding to know who threw the knife. Threats and curses are slung around, people start getting rough. 

I couldn't care less.

My body is in agony, but I'm alive, just barely. I slide out from underneath the corpse, crying in pain. I can barely see out of my swollen eyes and most of my teeth are missing. I can't even stand, so I just lie on the floor, wheezing under broken ribs. My sword lies in my limp hands, slowly receding into my body.

Please let that have been the last fight.

Medics enter the pit, placing my battered body roughly onto a stretcher, collecting broken weapons and severed body parts. I can only cry in relief as they bring me away from the pit. With any luck, I'll be given time to rest.

But then what? Crushing helplessness devours me. 

I'll just be forced to fight, again and again, until I no longer serve my purpose and become replaced by another 'champion.' The cycle perpetuates.

I can feel someone slipping something into my arm, and my body feels warm, fuzzy even. The pain fades and so does my consciousness.

When I open my eyes, I'm in a dingy looking room. I'm strapped down to the bed, but I don't have the strength to move anyway. My arm is still ginger but has been placed in a splint. At least they didn't amputate it.

I lie back, staring at the ceiling, listening to myself breathe. There's an odd whistle, but I seem to be okay. I can only hope I was lucky enough to keep my ear too.

I hear knocking at the door, someone entering and closing it behind them with a soft click. I turn my head, then glare. It's that damn elf again, the knife I used sitting on his belt. That's where I saw it before.

"No need to express your gratitude," Mendacium declares with a confident grin, "I only threw the knife because I had 50 gold on you winning. You've made me tonight's lucky winner." He pats a bursting bag on his thigh and I hear it clink gently. 

I try to speak, but only a small grunt comes out.

"The medics said you were lucky to be alive," Mendacium continues. "Something about your skull being more durable than expected."

He tries to act nonchalant, waving his hand in a care-free manner, but I can see his eyes watching me, curious about my sword and new shield. I'm not inclined to explain, even if I could. Especially to the man that put me into this mess.

"It makes sense you're not talkative, that was one hell of a fight." Mendacium shrugs. "That monster had been sitting here for 4 years undefeated. I think is name was Morgdum? Doesn't matter." 

He kneels down next to me, flicking my ear. I wince. Seems like I got it back after all.

"What would you say to getting out of here?" Mendacium asks, observing me carefully. "I mean, I doubt you'd want to be a pit fighter for the rest of your life. All you have to do is help me out with a few jobs. Take some time to think about it." He stands up, brushing a scab off my face and giving me a wink.

I try to spit on his face, but it dribbles out, barely touching his boot. 

"I'll take that as a yes, then. Until next time, my new champion." Mendacium bows obnoxiously, before leaving the room.

I sit there, in the darkness, alone with my thoughts.

Then I cry.