Chapter 28 - Ayden
It’s break time. Our oh-so-revered master of ceremonies still hasn’t deigned to announce the rules for the second round. The display board is as empty as his explanations.
But that’s not what worries me.
I’m pretty confident I can beat most of the fighters still standing. Only the Penubian and Noviosk might give me real trouble. If Noviosk wins, he’ll claim Sam, and I’m pretty sure he won’t harm her.
But I seriously doubt Danuk will let a rival steal the spotlight in his own arena. There’s a reason he had us bound all day in painful positions. Since yesterday, he’s done everything he can to weaken both of us.
I can’t just count on Noviosk to protect Sam. And no matter how hard I look, I can’t spot Vlad or any of my other allies.
“You’ll let me have the Penubian,” Noviosk mutters through gritted teeth.
I glance at him, raising an eyebrow like he just offered me his last piece of chocolate.
“Sure, be my guest… but did you forget we don’t get to pick our opponents?”
“All that matters is one of us wi—”
He cuts himself off, eyes locked on the stands, a lethal glint in his gaze.
I follow his stare and scan the crowd for a second before I spot him. The Asgarnian—Pherebos! He gives me a subtle nod.
Finally. Reinforcements. It’s about damn time.
Next to me, Noviosk hasn’t missed a thing.
“By the Stars, he’s with you!” he accuses.
“Who?”
“Don’t test my patience, Human! I’m fresh out!”
I have to make a choice in seconds. Trust this temporary ally who clearly wants to protect Sam, or distrust the enemy responsible for murdering my best friend.
I might have several allies in the stands. But down here in the arena? I’ve only got one possible partner.
If some Sentinels managed to sneak into the festivities, I doubt they could smuggle in pistoblasters. They’re probably only carrying a few composite blades—stealthy but deadly.
Instinctively, I scan the arena for Sam. She’s there, tense with fear. This night’s just as hellish for her. My eyes drift toward the grandstand above the “master’s” balcony.
Vlad’s there, ready to back her up. Huge relief. I trust him completely to get her out when the time comes.
“Well?” Noviosk presses me in a low voice.
Decision made. God, I hope I don’t regret it.
“Yes, he’s with me. He’s here for her,” I add for emphasis.
“Partial… truth,” the Srebat notes.
Damn it—I forgot about that!
“Listen. When everything kicks off, you’ll have one choice. You’re either with us or against us. But we’re winning this. We’re getting her out!”
“He’s not strong enough!”
“He’s not alone!” I grin.
“Truths,” Noviosk murmurs, eyes now scanning the crowd more intently.
“My dear friends!” Danuk booms, arms wide as he rises.
“Break time is over. Place your bets! For round two, I’ve decided to spice things up.
The twenty fighters who survived round one will now battle…
all at once! A free-for-all brawl! Exciting, isn’t it?
The last one alive wins the tournament… and the lovely Human girl. Minimum bet: five hundred credits!”
A roar of excitement rolls through the crowd.
Noviosk and I freeze. A free-for-all… pure chaos. No rules. Backstabbing guaranteed.
“I’m in,” Noviosk growls. “Just until we get Sam out safely. After that, I never want to see you again—your face or your people!”
“Works for me. We don’t need to be friends to survive this.” I glance at him. “You know how to fight back-to-back?”
He frowns. “I know the concept. Never used it. A Srebat faces his enemy alone.”
“Blah, blah. You don’t know the kind of chaos we’re about to be dropped into. So here’s the deal—back to back, no blind spots. We cover each other’s rear. No betrayal. No screwups. If you turn, I turn.”
He nods solemnly.
“Got it.”
“Preferred weapon?”
“My claws are enough,” he says with way too much pride.
“Of course they are. Typical Srebat,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I’ll aim for a long dagger or a short sword… if I can grab one.”
“Weak little Human,” he scoffs. “A Sre—”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time,” I cut him off.
One last glance toward the crowd. Pherebos is staring at me, looking a bit surprised. Oh right… those two have a bit of history.
“One last thing,” I warn, my tone turning arctic. “If you go after any of my friends—including Pherebos—you’ll regret it.”
“Truth,” he replies. “You have my word. I’m your ally until we leave this place.”
A bell clangs through the arena, signaling the end of betting.
“Let the fights begin!” Danuk shouts, drowned by a wave of cheering.
The signal’s given. It’s a mad dash to the weapons table. I weave through the crowd, elbows up, and manage to grab a basic knife. Everything left is either too heavy or basically a club… not exactly my style.
“So? Did you get anything? Or are you just leeching off my protection?” Noviosk snaps behind me.
“Yep! And we’re live!” I shout back, as some idiot already swings a massive club at me—his weapon, not… you know.
I barely block the blow. Noviosk smashes the guy aside.
Chaos erupts around us in a heartbeat. The melee begins.
I know my friends are waiting for the right moment to step in, but I’d love to trade places with them right now. A beach vacation? Yes, please. Next time, someone else can take my spot—I’ve done my part.
I dive into the brawl, knife ready, Noviosk supposedly guarding my back.
“You’re supposed to be covering my left flank!” I snap.
“Do you always talk this much during a fight?”
“Of course! And you’re bleeding quite a bit for an ‘invincible’ Srebat!”
He glances at the gash on his arm, surprised.
“It’s superficial.”
“For now.”
We rotate again, back-to-back, a little more in sync this time.
“Left side!”
“Your left… or mine?” he asks.
Man, being teammates with him is exhausting.
We take down a few enemies, but then the Penubian spots us.
He lunges at Noviosk just as three sword-wielding guys charge me. The melee tears us apart. I’m isolated, just a knife in hand—not ideal.
Suddenly, someone jumps in and tosses me a real blade, hilt-first. Reflex kicks in—I drop my knife and grab the sword. Pherebos.
He’s already spinning into motion, his double-bladed weapon slicing through the air and into guards obeying Danuk’s orders.
His arrival signals our cue. Total anarchy has officially begun.
I fight my instinct to rush to Sam. Vlad is watching over her. He’ll do what I would—what I can’t, right now.
The air fills with screams, metallic clashes, bodies crashing. I throw myself into the fight, sword in hand, focused like in training. I don’t team up with Pherebos—he has a loner reputation. And I’ve lost sight of Noviosk. Maybe the Penubian took him out?
A guard charges me from the right. Seriously? How many are there?
The past two days have wrecked me. I’m running out of gas.
Worse, new guards keep flooding in through the arena gates—armed with guns, unlike the original fighters or the spectators jumping in from the balconies.
One of them raises his weapon and takes aim. I’m too far to react.
This might be it.
But—he collapses mid-step, throat slashed.
Noviosk.
“You taking a nap or what?” he barks.
“Where the hell were you? And what’s with the weapon?”
“It’s a dagger,” he says like I asked the dumbest question ever.
Is he for real?
“I thought a Srebat only needed his claws?”
“My hands are soaked in blood, and I don’t have time to clean them. A blade wipes easier,” he replies matter-of-factly, wiping his on his pants.
“Right. Selective warrior code, got it.”
“You weren’t complaining when you asked to team up a few minutes ago.”
He’s not wrong. But now’s not the time.
I glance toward the main balcony. Vlad’s fighting off several guards. Just then, Danuk grabs Sam, slings her over his shoulder, and—jumps into the arena!
I need to get to her!
Damn it, that outfit they put her in barely covers anything. And I thought her Gekkarie suit was revealing… This purple-veil thing hides nothing. I want to rip the eyes out of everyone ogling her like that.
“You planning to daydream or survive?” Noviosk snaps.
That stings more than a blade. He’s right. Sam’s in danger—but if I lose focus now, I’m no help to her.
“Aww, Noviosk… You do care about me. I’m touched.”
“Couldn’t care less what happens to you after this. But for now, you’re watching my back while I watch yours. Move!”
“Sam… She’s over there!” I shout, pointing.
“By the Stars! Let’s go!”
“For once, we’re on the same page.”
We push forward, cutting through the chaos. The crowd’s joined the fight—most of the audience is now in the arena. I spot Jason and Xenon fighting back-to-back, holding their own.
“There!” Noviosk shouts, pointing at Danuk.
I spot him immediately. Like Noviosk, he towers over everyone. He’s moving with confidence, a blade in one hand, Sam held tight in the other. Every instinct in me screams to charge.
But just as I move, three guards block my path.
They draw their blades, ready to strike. I take a step back, sword raised, sizing them up.
“I’ll handle Danuk!” Noviosk calls out.
“Yeah, let’s do that!”
They attack.
The first is fast—too cocky. I parry, pivot, disarm him. The second tries a sneak attack. I sense it coming. My sword scrapes his armor, forcing him back. The third is heavier, his strikes brutal. I block them, but each blow rattles my bones. They regroup, trying to sync up.
“Need a hand?” comes a familiar voice.
“Wouldn’t say no!” I reply, grateful as Pherebos steps in, his strange sword gleaming.
The three guards freeze at the sight of the Asgarnian.
“C’mon, guys… It was three-on-one. Now it’s even. Fair’s fair, right?” he smirks.
One of them backs up and pulls a Coalition-grade pistoblaster. Unlike the Confederation’s models, these don’t have stun settings. Smugglers prefer a final solution. I can’t blame them—I’ve been the same since I landed here.
He fires at Pherebos without warning.
Unfazed, Pherebos lifts his blade—the shot ricochets off.
“Poor choice,” he comments.
In a crowd like this, guns are a gamble. Too easy to hit the wrong target. Here, in this chaos, blades rule.
The guard hesitates. Too late.
Pherebos lunges. His blade pierces the man’s chest. The guard stares in disbelief before collapsing.
“Two against two now,” the Asgarnian says, turning to the others. “Wanna keep going? Or drop your weapons and surrender?”
They exchange glances. I don’t wait.
I lunge at the closest one, sword raised.
“No surrender, huh?” Pherebos laughs, diving into battle.
We finish them off quickly.
Then a scream tears through the air.
Sam.
I whip around. Through the chaos, I see her. Noviosk is still locked in brutal combat with Danuk. They’ve ditched their weapons—fighting now with fists and claws, wild animals drenched in blood. But that’s not the danger.
Someone’s crept up to Sam—still on the ground—and grabs her by the hair, dragging her away. He draws a dagger.
He’s going to slit her throat.
Vlad’s too far, fighting two men. He won’t make it in time.
I don’t hesitate. I run—but I already know I won’t reach her fast enough.
Then—a flash of claws. A blur. The attacker’s head nearly flies off.
Noviosk.
He turned his back on Danuk to save her. He saved her… but left himself wide open.
I see it in slow motion. Danuk—face twisted in rage—charges like a beast.
“Noviosk!” Sam screams as I leap toward them.
Too late.
Danuk slams into him, smashing him to the ground. A cloud of blood and dust explodes. Noviosk tries to rise, but Danuk’s already on him—pinning him down, driving claws again and again into his back and ribs.
I reach them and sweep my blade in one brutal arc.
Danuk’s head flies free, hits the dirt in a splash of red.
The Red Arena’s master is dead.
Like dominoes, the guards drop their weapons, hands raised. Some aren’t so lucky. The ground’s littered with corpses—but plenty still stand: guards, fighters, spectators… and a few Confederation members.
Our honor code says never strike a disarmed opponent. Sadly, not everyone lives by it.
The fighting lingers. Chaos slowly fades.
I stay close to Sam, who’s now kneeling over Noviosk, inspecting his wounds.