No Way Out

The sergeant brandished his sword, levying the point at the goat man as he sneered. "Fine, if it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get. Because of you, I'm now honor-bound to slay you. Higgs will be avenged, or I'll follow him into the void."

"Come, then, warrior," Gorn said, banging his sword against his shield. "Let us hope you do better than your subordinate."

The sergeant stepped forward, moving from the circle of Mana to the box. Before he crossed the threshold, four tendrils of darkness snaked out from his feet, utilizing the shadows cast by Gorn's sword's light to stay undetected as they darted across the ground and up the legs of the Guards and Fate. The sergeant's voice resounded in their minds, giving them orders one last time.

'Boys, I don't know if I'll live through this. Once these barriers go down, go for the shaman. Even if it costs your life, that shaman must die. That's the only way the Empire can take these fuckers out without sending hundreds to their deaths. Higgs told me before he fought this fucker with the way I'm communicating to you now, there are tens of thousands of imps down here, way too many for us to deal with.

'The "walls" we see around us are just an illusion conjured by that bastard. This cave is fifty times the size we see, and behind this illusion is an entire army of imps, content to watch us suffer for now but more than capable of squashing our tiny party.'

While hard to believe, Fate didn't doubt the man's words. Higgs was an Earth Mage; he would know better than anyone when a rock was fake or not. The thought still terrified Fate, though.

While they could handle a few hundred at a time without grievous injuries, all of them could still tire. They'd have to fight for hours on end for even a chance to kill all of the imps, and he did not doubt that they didn't have the energy for that. Hell, Fate hadn't slept in over a day.

'As for you two, Bregg and Gus, I'm invoking the Settan Protocol. That armor you're wearing? It's now broadcasting a signal back to the Royal Palace. If you show up without doing your jobs, they'll have your heads. And Fate…'

The man spared a glance over his shoulder, the unwavering determination present within his gaze diminished considerably by the sorrow mingling with it. 'I'm sorry we brought you here. Run if you can. If not, I'll see you on the other side.'

Having spoken his mind, the sergeant solemnly turned to face Gorn as he stepped into the box of Mana. As soon as he entered the arena, he and Gorn broke into a mad dash toward the other.

The sarge slid under a shield bash and hopped to his feet behind the brute. He jumped, running up Gorn's back and slicing into the creature's neck before using the imp as a springboard to backflip off, narrowly avoiding a stab of Gorn's sword.

The sergeant landed on his feet gracefully, bracing himself as Gorn turned around with a wide sweep of his sword. The tip blinded the Guard for a second, but his instincts, honed over decades, saved him.

He ducked, slapping the blade away with the flat of his own and spinning around a shield thrust to slice at Gorn's sword arm. The sword glanced off, forcing the sergeant to roll to the side to avoid his opponent's slice.

Gorn used his brute strength to redirect his swing, the sword bearing down on the sergeant from above right as he sprung to his feet. The Guard blocked hastily with his sword, the weapon crumpling into scrap metal as Gorn's blade cut through it like butter.

Gorn's weapon continued its trajectory, slicing off the Guard's right arm and searing the wound closed. The sergeant, to his credit, merely growled as he attempted to sprint to the other side of the arena. Gorn didn't just let it happen, bashing the sergeant's back with his tower shield.

Luckily for the sergeant, most of the spikes missed their mark, but one impaled him in his leg and sent him flying across the space. He rolled to a stop, pushing himself to his knees. His leg flowed with blood, coloring his blue armor red.

"You know, monster," the sergeant grinned, his eyes trained on the imp's armor. "There's a reason your brothers walk around showing their privates to everyone. It prevents me from doing this!"

Ropes of darkness flew out of Gorn's shadow, wrapping around the imp's wrists, arms, legs, ankles, and waist – all of which were covered in armor – and pulling him to his knees. A tendril worked its way up the goat man's sword arm and smothered the weapon's blade, pulsing slightly as it ate away at the light.

Soon, it went from a blazing bonfire to a single smoldering coal, empowering the sergeant's shadows even more as they squeezed the creature, eliciting a roar as he tried and failed to break free. He was forced to drop his armaments, palms splayed against the ground as he looked up, eyes smoldering with hatred as his fiery skin steadily increased in heat.

His armor glowed, the stone beneath his knees and hands starting to bubble. The ropes binding him, however, remained unaffected.

"I knew it. That isn't a Manifest Sword," the sergeant said. "It's a different enchantment. Probably around the Sprout Grade. A low-tier one, or else I wouldn't be able to suppress it like this. Now, the way I see it, you're immune to heat.

"But that stone below you isn't, and I'd bet my last gold coin that you aren't immune to suffocating. Tell me, demon, have you ever seen anyone drown in lava? If I'm right, you'll be the first. Congratulations."

The sergeant's taunt was met by a roar of anger as Gorn struggled against his restraints. The giant imp slowly sunk into the ground, managing to force himself to a kneeling position to give himself a few more seconds to think of a way out.

Unfortunately, he could think of none. The heat from his skin couldn't be turned off, it had to wind down on its own. The tendrils couldn't be broken by brute strength, and he can't burn the dark.

Gorn had no way out. He could only roar in anger as he sunk lower and lower into the ground. His roars were replaced by furious bubbles popping on the surface of the rock as his mouth was filled with lava. Next to disappear were his eyes, trained on the sergeant with palpable killing intent.

Last to vanish was the goat man's horns, until there was no more sign of the behemoth. The audience waited with bated breath for several minutes, perhaps expecting Gorn to make a dramatic comeback, as the stone slowly cooled and became solid once more.

Gorn's tomb was complete.