The Arena (4) : Undercurrents

"Don't overdo it this time." The Arena Master said.

"Seriously?" Jon frowned.

"You made the other combatants afraid of you. No one in the 'Bloodletter' rank is willing to fight you at all."

"... Bummer!"

Jon felt a bit tired. It seems that he was a bit too abnormal to face and the magic he used scared away the fighters. In his head, Jon was just disappointed by those third rate fighters who are so scared for their lives. The reason behind that is mostly because his strength has surpassed the human limit and he no longer think based on those standards anymore. Also, the Nords are hardy people and wouldn't back away no matter the odds so he just wasn't used to it.

"So can't we just skip ranks?" Jon asked.

"Your contract is to advance each rank by a special rule match which means you have to fight through each and every rank." The Arena Master refused.

"Fine, I have a good idea. Add a rule to those special rules we agreed on. My opponents have the right to disable the 'Death Match' term in the coming fights."

"Wait! You're saying…"

"Whoever afraid of me can be content that I won't kill them. Victory by knockout or submission will make them not fear me anymore." Jon said.

"But the people… they expect to see blood. No! They've paid for it."

"Well, it either that or we wait for an opponent to appear which seems to be not going to happen any time soon. Don't worry. If you are going to introduce the masses to an idea against what they want, then present it in a righteous and noble appearance with classy words. Sugarcoat it with a beautiful woman announcing it." Jon said.

"... Gods! Who are you?" Mirren swore from the side.

"Former head of a corporate entity, a successful politician, a businessman, an inventor, and a very rich guy. I am basically the villain."

"Makes sense."

***

The ranks of the Arena start with 'Pit Dog' then 'Brawler', 'Bloodletter', 'Myrmidon', 'Warrior', 'Gladiator', 'Hero', 'Champion' and 'Grand Champion'.

According to Jon's contract with the Arena, he is to fight one special rules match that can advance him to the next rank in one go. As a death ground, there was no insurance that anyone can come out of the Arena alive and that included Jon himself. If he got killed, then that's it.

Jon wasn't worried even if he ran into someone as strong as him. Faking his own death will even be more of a fortunate occasion but he has his own pride to maintain and if his death was announced, Winterhold will be a target for vengeance.

Still, the Arena was the best method he found to make a big scene and attract all his pursuers to the Empire rather than Skyrim or whatever his next destination may be. Also, he needs to keep reminding those politicians and powerhouses that even if they are capable of taking him down, they will have to make a sacrifice they can't afford in doing so.

They understood that but there was just one thing they didn't like. Jon was too arrogant.

Many figures all over the Arena and even outside it were having a secret conversation through a large telepathic network.

"He comes into our city and spread his wings. Should we handle that?"

"He is reckless indeed. Not bad for a talent but his temperament are nasty for a Nord."

"Not bad? The boy is a monster and there more than what he just did."

"That spellbook of his, I want to see what secrets he still holds."

"He showed it on purpose to attract people like you. You will be playing his game if you do anything reckless."

"Sigh! If only a talent like him appeared in our Arcane College, the Imperial Court and the Elder Council would have put many resources solely for him. Shouldn't we rope him in by that offer?"

"After what happened in Winterhold and us letting those ten Elves do their things, I don't think the boy will tolerate us anymore."

"Is he an enemy then?"

"Not really. An enemy of our enemies can be our friend."

"I remember it was a Redguard warlord who said that once before his allies turning on him."

"You are missing my point, old man."

"All of you, we need to learn from the past experiences with him. He is reckless yet always have a hidden card, he never played without having the upper-hand. The reports on his personality suggest that he is unstable yet very able to control himself and manipulate others. Also, the daughter of Duke Vici is in his pocket which means he has the support of a large faction in the East Empire Company."

"It seems his wonder penis is causing us trouble."

"Please don't put it that way."

"This one thinks you are all overthinking it. Jon Dare may be a problem but it is not ours as long as we ignore him. Let this one remind you who is his backing again. We don't want to infuriate the Telvanni, Winterhold or Shad Astula."

"So we should just accept a new player?"

"This one doesn't see a problem. Jon Dare is interesting and hostile to the Thalmor. Let them keep each other in check while we keep an eye on things that matters. How is that prophecy?"

"Prophecy? Oh! That one… the Astronomers are having a bad time with it. They say the Serpent will appear a few weeks from now based on the motion of the stars."

"Then we need to hurry. A Red Ship and a Broken Star, something is at play here and we need to know what."

***

Jon advanced to the Arena and fought four matches based on the new special rule that stated that his opponent can decide whether or not it can be a deathmatch.

From that point, many people made up their minds to challenge him.

The following matches allowed Jon to pick up a few moves from his opponents as he fought barehanded. According to what he understood from his group's daily conversations on Martial Arts, there are three classifications to the overall styles in Tamriel; the Heavy Styles that rely on Brute Strength and Physical Durability, the Swift Styles that rely on Graceful Movements and Multiple Hits, and the Accurate Styles that rely on Precise Attacks and Fast Executions.

Hybrid styles exist but the pure Martial Artists are mostly headstrong to a certain classification. Jon's style is clearly Hybrid as he has Brute Strength, Swift Combos and Scary Accuracy. Thanks to what he comprehended, his ability to analyze his opponents evolved and he became obsessed with breaking down his opponents' styles before finishing them.

That wasn't all. He even met opponents with high control over the Aura on the sixth match. As an art with a close relation to Martial Arts, the Aura fortifies each style even more in power, speed and accuracy. The right type of Aura with the right attack can create a fascinating skill such as the flying claws launched by the Khajiit he fought and the Breton who launched a sword beam that really surprised him.

As the sixth match was over, the announcer declared Jon's advance to the 'Hero' rank. Somehow, it was a cringeworthy rank as Jon hated its name.

As a Hero, he can finally challenge the Champions. From that point on, the Arena Master decided to remove the term that Jon added about not killing the opponents and the death matches finally returned. The people were a bit in an uproar regarding the rule of safety but thanks to Jon's idea, the Arena Master invited Vittoria Vici, who is hosting a big part of today's events, to announce the rule. As Jon said, the masses were mostly controlled but only temporary.

When other Nobles started to flood the VIP area, it was clear that the death matches had to return.

Now, the Arena was mostly full and the Arena servants were doing their best to manage the large crowd.

Also, a certain man was finally attracted to the show. The current Grand Champion, Darius.

He was sitting in a special area under the Arena seats and watched the matches while being hidden in the shadows. He wasn't restless or relaxed but rather very focused. Jon's style was clearly strange but had a rhyme to it. As soon as Darius can catch the rhyme, he will be able to play Jon to his demise.

"Are you sure?" a voice came from behind him.

"Tsk! That's one nerve you have coming down here, woman." Darius replied sharply to the one in the shadow.

A woman with a destructive body outline appeared in the shadow.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't really interested in coming here but I wanted to offer you something."

"Not interested."

"There is a Million Septims on that boy's head."

"Not interested."

"... Should I go and bring one of my male associates to negotiate with you?"

"..."

"As you…"

"Not interested."

The woman was mostly unfazed by Darius's cold shoulder but that didn't stop her. She started to look at the arena and narrowed her eyes.

"His style… how do I say this? … it is one of a kind."

"... Go on." Darius was finally patient enough to listen.

"What am I interested in is his body? Of course getting it means we need him dead which is your part but to do so, you need to understand what you are dealing with, right?"

"Why are you interested in his body?" Darius asked.

"Hm? Not much, you know… some hobbies here and there. Unfortunately for me and for my associates, one of our suppliers in Morrowind was destroyed by a rogue Tong organization and some low-life mercenaries. If the Imperial Arena is not our stable source then life would have been hard on us. But..."

"I was wondering." Darius cut her words, "Why are you people interested in beaten up corpses? If you have some sick necrophilia cult, why not just look for bodies in more decent places?" Darius asked.

"We don't pay you and your red team to ask questions, Dar…" The woman said but soon her words came to a halt.

Darius's large axe was just one inch away from claiming her head. The terror that Darius's 'Carnage Aura' gave off almost squeezed her heart from the terror.

"Don't run your mouth, woman." He said in a tone that oppressed the woman to submission.

She nodded with fear visible in her eyes. As he took his axe away, she touched her neck unintentionally feeling it in place.

"I don't care what you want with the bodies. Tell that leader of yours to not do anything stupid while I fight. Now leave." Darius wasn't in the mood to talk anymore.

The woman looked at Darius and decided to finish up what she came here for.

"One last thing. This… these are some magic scrolls." She took out almost ten magic scrolls from high quality as they looked.

"I said I don't want petty things like…" Darius said but the woman cut him.

"I am not sure how you fight but the Lord recommended them for you. They are to test the boy's ability, nothing will interfere with your fight as long as we get our data and you get a grasp on his skills. I get that the boy will be fighting the Champions next, right?" She said in a serious tone.

She then offered the scrolls for him.

"Let them Champions test him out for you." She said.

Darius looked at the woman and then the scrolls. She was right. Jon's style is very obscure and fluid, his movements are simple and deadly while his magic is not easy to deal with.

Darius took them with a snort and returned to focus on his fighting mentality once again.

The woman sighed and walked out of the secret observing room and took the corridor under the Arena out to the seats. On the way, she got rid of her cloak and hood then walked out with no one spotting her.

What appeared under the light of day was a Redguard woman with a pleasant look. She walked and found herself a seat.

"Dalilah." A voice whispered from her side.

"What is it?"

"She is here." The voice said.

"She?"

"Look. The opposite seats, third row, seventh from the right." The man beside her handed her a small spyglass.

The Redguard woman or rather, Dalilah, scanned across the opposite seats until her eyes landed on someone. A Redguard woman with broad shoulders and long brown hair in a Redguard garment with a hippie sense of accessories.

Dalilah's eyes opened wide.

"What is she doing here?" She asked carefully without taking her eyes off.

"No idea. I guess she is traveling." The one beside her said.

"Her direction?"

"No one knows. Last time we lost her in Skyrim when those people were on to us. Rumors about her came from Morrowind but our agents said she is moving a lot and keeps a low profile. We thought she was onto something but if she showed up openly here then we were wrong. We assume she is returning home."

"... Too soon!" Dalilah said. "If the 'Wish' was found out this early, everything will crumble."

"What do you think we should do?"

"We can't be reckless. Send a messenger to Hammerfell and keep an eye on the girl. This girl can end everything we worked for. Dammit! Those useless bastards… we don't have any good information network on Skyrim and look at the mess we're in."

Dalilah said while standing up and foaming from anger. She looked back at the woman again.

"It has been a long long while… Isha."

~~~~~~~~~~

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