Chapter 403: Survive

Kael stopped expecting the Red Sun group to treat him as a member of their party. Their indifference was irritating, but it also spared him the trouble of answering questions about his abilities.

He looked down at his bare hands.

Over the past several Floors, he had developed a useful habit of keeping his Gauntlets in his inventory until he needed them. Most of his significant records remained under Anonymous, and few people knew the face behind them. The Red Sun Clan, however, had a description.

Iori had seen him on the first Floor. He had watched Kael use his gauntlets and Runes against the Black Basilisk of Getava, learning enough to give the clan a reasonably accurate account of how he fought.

Other Climbers used Runes. Others practiced martial arts. No one relied on gauntlets loaded with Rune sockets.

Displaying those sockets in front of four Red Sun members would be an unnecessary risk.

Kael had changed considerably since the first Floor. The Nine Yang Destruction Body had broadened his shoulders and thickened his arms until little remained of his old build. Someone who remembered an athletic young man would now be looking at a figure built with very little regard for subtlety.

The Spartan helmet concealed his face, but he preferred to give the disguise some help.

While Andre worked on the Malachor equipment, Kael had spent part of his spare time making something deliberately ordinary. He retrieved the pair of fist guards from his inventory and sat on an empty bench to fasten them.

Reinforced leather covered his hands, with metal plates across the knuckles and short, blunt studs over the striking surfaces. They contained no Runes, catalysts, Malachor Jade, or internal channels.

Hundreds of close-combat Climbers across both Towers wore equipment like this.

Two of the Red Sun members noticed. One studied his hands, glanced up at his size, then looked away with even less interest than before. The other barely bothered with the second look.

Kael tightened the final strap, hiding a smile.

Apparently, an unknown solo Climber became less impressive once they learned he punched things. He wondered what they would make of the Fist King.

After spending so much time being beaten by his master, Kael had learned to take an unarmed opponent seriously.

A metallic clang came from the gate.

An overseer entered wearing leather trousers, boots, and a bronze helmet. Scars covered enough of his bare torso to suggest the Gladiatorium offered poor retirement prospects. A long whip hung from his hand.

"Get up. Your turn."

Darin began rising, but the overseer cracked the whip against the floor before the others could follow.

"Move!"

The Red Sun members exchanged glances and put away the last of their supplies. Darin left first, followed by his three companions. Kael rose from the bench and took the rear.

The crowd grew louder as they climbed through the passage. Sunlight struck them at the exit, followed by a swell of shouting from the stands.

Kael took a better look at the spectators this time.

He could not identify a single Climber among them. People in pale robes filled the stone terraces, leaning forward to watch the new arrivals. A vendor moved through an upper row with skewers of meat while two men beside him argued over a wager.

It looked like old Rome, with magic added for convenience.

"Civilization," Kael muttered.

Darin glanced back, but Kael kept walking.

They reached the center of the arena and stopped. No opposing party waited across from them. The far gate remained closed, and nothing occupied the open ground ahead.

Vesk shifted his spear into both hands.

"Where are our opponents?"

Nobody answered. The crowd gradually quieted, though scattered shouts continued until an amplified voice rolled over the arena.

"Welcome! Five more challengers enter the Gladiatorium!"

Cheers and boos rose together. Someone threw a cup, which failed to reach the arena floor. The announcer waited before continuing.

"For their first victory, our challengers will face a Trial of Survival!"

Darin frowned.

Kael noticed the expression, then looked toward the empty gate again.

"The rules are simple," the announcer declared. "Remain alive for one hour!"

The spectators roared their approval.

"That sounds straightforward enough," Kael said.

Darin turned toward him. "That isn’t a good sign."

Before Kael could ask what he meant, the ground shook.

A seam opened across the center of the arena. Another joined it, outlining an enormous section of flooring that began to sink beneath their feet. The five Climbers retreated as stone separated from stone, leaving an opening into the darkness below.

The audience began chanting.

Kael could not make out the words, but their enthusiasm needed no explanation. Something moved beneath the floor, and a deep growl rose from the opening.

A second growl joined it.

One massive green hand caught the edge. Its fingers were almost as long as a man’s arm, and the stone cracked beneath their grip. Another hand appeared farther along the rim.

Someone beside Kael swore.

The creature hauled itself upward, exposing a gray-green body thick with muscle. A crude belt of animal hides hung around its waist. As it climbed clear, it dragged up a wooden club reinforced with iron bands, large enough to serve as a building’s support beam.

Then Kael saw both heads.

Each was bald, with a single enormous eye set beneath a thick, curved horn. The left head sniffed the air while the right opened its mouth and roared at the stands.

The spectators answered with a roar of their own.

"That’s new," Kael said, activating Inspect.

[MONSTER STATUS]

Twin-Headed Ogre

Level: 45

Classification: Giantkin

[TRAITS]

[Stone Skin]

Dense magical skin drastically reduces incoming physical and magical damage.

[Monstrous Vitality]

Possesses extreme resistance to blood loss, trauma, exhaustion, and non-lethal injury.

[Magic Resistance]

Elemental and conventional offensive magic suffer greatly reduced effectiveness.

[Dual Awareness]

Both heads perceive independently, making blind-side attacks significantly more difficult.

[Heightened Hearing]

Highly sensitive to movement and sound.

[Predatory Scent]

Capable of identifying living targets through scent even with poor visual clarity.

[Starved]

The creature has been deliberately deprived of food for an extended period.

Aggression, pursuit instinct, and feeding behavior are greatly increased.

[Dietary Preference]

Human flesh.

Lore:

Meat! Meat is good! No meat, Bad! MEAT!

=============

Kael read the final line, then glanced at the four people beside him.

The ogre’s left head sniffed again. Both eyes settled on the Climbers, and its mouths spread to reveal far too many teeth.

Darin had gone pale.

"This isn’t right. They can’t have given us a Twin-Head in the first round."

Halem took several steps back, his staff scraping against the dirt before he lifted it.

"Then what the fuck is it doing here?"

"I can see it as well as you can," Darin snapped.

Roth looked toward the gate they had entered through. It had already closed behind them.

"None of the reports mentioned one this early," Vesk said.

Kael watched their reactions. Whatever they had planned for him, they had not expected this. Their fear looked genuine.

The announcer’s voice boomed over the stands.

"One hour! Let us see how long our challengers can entertain us!"

A magical timer appeared above the arena.

[59:59]

Kael looked from it to the ogre.

The instructions had been clear. They did not have to kill the creature. Remaining alive until the timer expired would earn them the victory.

He stepped back.

Halem raised his staff, drawing Mana into it.

"What are you doing?" Kael asked.

"Preparing," the mage snapped. Two spheres of fire formed beside the staff as the ogre turned toward the growing light.

Darin drew his curved sword.

"Spread out! Roth, take the front!"

Vesk moved left while Roth stepped forward and raised his gauntlets.

Kael continued retreating.

They had just been presented with a starving Level Forty-Five monster that resisted magic, shrugged off physical injuries, and carried a club capable of flattening them. Their objective required none of them to approach it.

Yet they were taking up the same formation they had discussed in the holding room.

Halem fired.

Both fireballs crossed the open ground and struck the ogre’s chest. Flames burst across its body, throwing smoke around its heads and drawing delighted screams from the spectators.

The ogre stepped through the smoke.

Dark scorch marks streaked its chest. Nothing else suggested the attacks had troubled it.

Halem lowered his staff a fraction.

"Oh, fuck."

"Yes," Kael said. "That was stupid."

Both heads fixed on the mage.

The ogre lowered its club and charged.

Kael had expected it to be dangerous. He had not expected something that large to cover the distance so quickly. Its feet hammered the arena floor, each impact shaking through the dirt.

Halem stood motionless.

Darin shouted for him to move. Vesk turned with his spear, and Roth tried to step into the creature’s path, but none of them reached the mage in time.

Halem threw up his hands.

A barrier flashed into existence above him as the club descended.

It shattered on impact.

The weapon continued through, striking Halem and driving him into the ground. Blood sprayed across the red dirt. Kael felt the blow through his boots, and the spectators rose from their seats.

When the ogre lifted its club, almost nothing recognizable remained beneath it.

Darin screamed the mage’s name.

Kael stared at the crushed body, then looked toward the others.

"There goes the mage."

The ogre bent over the remains. One head sniffed while the other watched the surviving Climbers. A moment later, both turned toward Vesk.

The spearman began backing away.

"Formation!" Roth shouted, trying to draw the others together.

Kael kept his distance.

Darin noticed him moving toward the outer part of the arena.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get back here!"

"Surviving. You should try it."

"We need everyone if we’re going to kill that thing!"

Kael looked at him, then up at the timer.

[58:41]

They had lost their mage in little more than a minute, and Darin still wanted to continue.

"Are you retarded? or did you even listen to the fucking rules?" Kael pointed toward the timer. "We don’t have to kill it. We have to stay alive."

"Help us!" Darin shouted, raising his sword as the ogre shifted toward Vesk.

"That thing is Level Forty-Five. It resists magic, its skin is harder than stone, and wearing it down would probably take longer than the match. Your mage just found out what standing in front of it accomplishes."

Darin’s face twisted.

"We can’t run for an hour!"

Kael looked around the arena.

More sections of the floor had begun moving. Pillars rose from below, followed by broken walls and raised stone platforms. The open ground was filling with obstacles, giving them places to turn, double back, and force the ogre to change direction.

Its hearing and sense of smell would make hiding difficult. That did not prevent them from putting a wall between themselves and its club.

"Yes, we can," Kael said.

The ogre charged again, this time toward Vesk.

The spearman stumbled back, then panicked and thrust his weapon forward as though the point would stop the mass coming toward him.

Kael sighed and turned toward the nearest group of rising pillars.

"Or at least I can."

Darin shouted after him, demanding that he come back. Kael kept moving, angling toward the edge of the arena as the ogre’s club rose.

He lifted one fist guard and pointed toward the timer, grinning beneath his helmet.

"Run, bitch. Run."