Chapter 1741 – Games of Sacrifice
‘I may be getting a bit sick of tournaments,’ John thought.
The Aztec arena around them was different and yet so similar to the coliseum he was used to. A vast structure with a central open space and surrounding watcher’s areas. Unlike the oval arenas John was used to, this one came in the shape of an octagon. The fighting grounds themselves were a square. The public viewing areas were separated into four large tribunes by the tall structure where the corners of the arena were located.
There was a truly ridiculous amount of gold on display, used to decorate stone columns and every edge of every surface that was not walked on. The glorious sight was tarnished by the event going on.
A tournament, that was what they agreed on. Singed, Liakan and Karia versus three singular fighters of the Gamer’s choosing. The first round would see them fight one versus one, the second round would pit the victors of the first round against each other. If that ended up with a 2vs1 situation, then that was fine with Huitzilopochtli, who had insisted on this structure.
The structure favoured the Azure Tribe. As the condition was ‘singular’ fighters, John could not play his usual game of oppression by numbers. That being said, the women he had with him gave him several good choices. He went with the obvious: Metra, Ehtra, and Rave would face off against the Azure Tribe.
At the very least, the tournament would not last a long time. If all went according to plan, then it would be finished by the end of the day.
John was not entirely sure what would happen if they lost there. He wasn’t sure what happened if they won either. This entire tournament was somewhat of a farce. John did not mind delays, he was two days away from level 710 and that final Silver Arcanist Perk.
What he did mind was that Lorelei had not sent him any updates since this morning. He had enough faith in the Grim Reaper that he wasn’t immediately throwing his anger at Zelos. It did worry him, however.
“Distracted?” his current company asked.
To John’s infinite displeasure, it was not a woman. It was Kharn, the seneschal of the god of sacrifice, who throned one rung above them in his dividing block, the southern of the four. The other three god warriors were similarly displayed atop their own segments, each of them sitting in a lavish throne, surrounded by servants.
His harem was located one rung below. John had been offered a position of honour. Usually he would have refused, staying with his partners instead, or he would have insisted at least Rave tag along with him. For this specific occasion, he wanted some time alone with the representative of the god of sacrifice.
Between their chairs was a large table, on it a basket with all sorts of goodies. Kharn grabbed the snacks by the handful. Honeyed nuts; sugar-dusted dried fruit; meat, fried, dried, and otherwise preserved; and boiled eggs all made their way to the lean man’s mouth. That he had managed to get even a singular word out was impressive.
“I am typically in multiple places,” John answered and tapped his head. “One of the disadvantages of having so many familiars.”
“Subordinates do always pull at the attention of one’s soul.” Kharn chewed with great glee on a particular piece of meat. “Say… you sacrificed a tasty bird to Huitzilopochtli, did you not?”
“How do you know that it was tasty?” John asked.
“He was kind enough to share,” Kharn answered swiftly. “Ah, it seems the fight is about to begin!”
John directed his gaze down to the field below. Metra, Ehtra, Singed and Karia were retreating from the field, leaving Liakan and Rave in it. A signal had the two clash in an explosion of light and arcane.
John felt the gust of wind from the initial clash on his skin. The implication made his eyes widen in surprise. “Is there no shield in place?” he asked.
“A shield?” Kharn sounded amused by the implication. “Like a big obsidian dome? That seems like it would be rather obstructive.”
“An arcane barrier that covers the arena,” John clarified, “to protect the viewers.”
“And deprive the people of a death in the heat of the moment?” Kharn asked and gestured at the crowd.
John had seen animated onlookers before, but this was a whole different level. People were cheering at every thrust delivered, agitating one another into a frenzied state of berserk cheering. Frothing pulque was downed in vast quantities as the volume rose further and further.
It reached a point where Liakan and Rave stopped in their fight for a short moment, gazing upwards into the ranks. They must have realized at that moment what damage their stray attacks had done to the walls, perhaps even seen where such a stray blow had created a gap in the watchers’ ranks.
Liakan struck again first, plunging her spear into Rave’s shoulder. In his seat, John clawed at the armrests until his knuckles turned white. ‘This is beyond barbaric. You need to put a lot of work into making a people this uncaring about life.’
“You must do things differently elsewhere,” Kharn commented. “Alas, the sacrifices are needed. Blood must flow, you see. The death of the people is the food of the gods.”
‘What a peculiar saying,’ the Gamer thought and forced himself to relax. Letting too much slip was not going to his advantage. ‘Just little doses, gauge his true reaction.’
“The daughter thinks highly of you,” the seneschal continued, as the fight below ran its predictable course. Liakan had been the favourite from the start. It had taken him, Rave, and Aclysia to take her down last time and that was with the element of surprise. Both were barred from using their strongest moves by the lack of a shield, which arguably favoured Rave more. “Her father suggested that it would be advantageous to give her to you as a political gesture.”
“I have heard as much,” John answered. “Can’t say I am fundamentally opposed to the idea.” The words almost got stuck in his throat, when a man was shoved over the edge of the railing by the crowd behind him. Landing face first on the compacted ground, he died instantly from the broken neck.
All Kharn did was laugh and clap for the brief time he had between chewing and grabbing new snacks.
With every passing second of the spectacle, John felt his heart sink. ‘There is no way I could let these people loose on the local Abyss,’ he thought. ‘It doesn’t matter whether I am right or wrong regarding Huitzilopochtli. These people are evil.’
Rave threw in the towel after another harsh hit. John had instructed them not to exhaust themselves too much if the fight was unlikely to come out in their favour anyhow. The next two encounters were more likely to go their way.
The body of the man was dragged out of the arena, leaving a red smear in the sand. Singed and Metra entered to square off next.
“Where did you find that meat?” Kharn asked, greed naked in his voice. “More of it is desired.”
“Natural Barriers – very rare,” John lied. “I could provide more in exchange for goods.”
Kharn raised an eyebrow. “You get to be in the good graces of the great and terrible Huitzilopochtli, what more do you need?”
“Things that are actually valuable to me,” the Gamer answered drily. “A lot has changed since you went into the inner realm. Are you familiar with the Apex, Romulus?”
Kharn yawned, showing off his sharp canines in the process, marked by the gooey flesh of dried fruits. “An ocean away,” he spoke casually, “a problem for the gods of Europe.”
“The world is much smaller these days than you may remember,” John pointed out.
“Perhaps,” Kharn answered and grabbed another handful of fruits.
The Gamer was almost dumbfounded by the lack of care the man had for John’s formulation of that sentence. ‘Does he really not notice that I am coaxing out of him that he is older than this current state of affairs? Does he not care? Does he think my grasp of his language is bad?’
Kharn clapped his hands and laughed at something about the battlefield below. He was kicking the air and holding his belly. John could imagine what was happening without looking. Singed against Metra was the most unfair matchup that could have come off this entire thing.
It also happened at a speed the naked eye of the average Abyssal should not have been able to follow.
One swing of Rex Magnar sent Singed to the floor for good. The arcane elemental surrendered in the space the First of Wrath gave him. “Xipe-Totec was quite annoyed that he lost to her,” Kharn changed topics. A dry smile on his face twisted into a scowl. “Is she one of your metal women as well?”
“Yes – why?”
“I find the lack of flesh detestable,” the seneschal answered, as diplomatic as a boot to the neck. “Do you suppose the next match will be as entertaining?”
John looked at Ehtra and Karia, taking their places on opposite sides of the arena. “Do you enjoy one-sided beatdowns?”
“Very much so.”
“In that case I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” John answered. “This fight will likely be rather even.”
For a third time, the opponents of the two sides clashed. Karia was faster than Ehtra by a considerable margin, but the grey angel had an ace up her sleeve in this match-up – no, she had two major advantages.
Because of Lady Vengeance, Ehtra was always at least somewhat aware of Karia’s location. Since the assassin was relying heavily on rapid teleportation to confuse her opponents, that made Ehtra a natural counter. Added to that was the Contempt Aura, introducing a hesitance into the blue-haired woman’s motions that allowed the grey angel to keep up the pace.
In a battle that was evenly matched at the outset, John favoured Ehtra every time. The static Karia introduced into their mental connection was a minor annoyance when it came from the familiar. The angel’s Blood Halo charging up was a gradual but slow path to victory.
Karia did not surrender easily. Arcane blades and Astrotium sword glinted in the sun. Thrusts, ripostes, faints, manoeuvres and countermeasures all executed at a rapid pace. John was mesmerized by the speed of the games of instinct and mentality that were being played.
“How utterly dull,” Kharn commented on the brilliant exchange of warrior prowess.
“Do you not have a…” John wanted to say ‘horse in this race’ but remembered they did not have a word for that animal. “Is there no winner you favour?”
“It is either way to me,” Kharn answered with a shrug. “We need no allies – although they might be amusing to have. Is there any reason you did not send the woman of solid cold, by the way?”
“She’s less suited for this kind of combat,” John answered. A lie, he had favoured Aclysia for a duel just a few days ago. The difference here was that he did not know what was going to happen next. He wanted his best protector capable of bringing all of her resources to bear, should something unexpected occur.
“Mhm.” Kharn did not sound convinced, but was distracted by the Blood Halo reaching its full charge.
The circle of crimson above the grey angel flared up. Helmet parting, Ehtra’s now red hair was revealed. Liquid energy circled around her like the gore of a great battlefield, turning her into the embodiment of a vengeful messenger of god – at least in the heavy metal album cover sense.
The energy concentrated on the edge of her blade, betraying the additional threat her attacks now posed. Combat continued from there, but the ultimate victor was inevitable.
Little was said between John and Kharn during that time. John had the picture he wanted now, of a seneschal that was a glutenous monster of a man. It was what he had feared would be his impressions.
“You must be happy,” Kharn picked up the conversation again, after ordering a new bowl of food. “It seems like you will win.”
“It does appear that way, yes,” John agreed.
Ehtra and Metra were now facing off against Liakan. The two Metracanas were exchanging a quick battleplan, while the daughter of chaos watched them carefully. Ehtra stepped forwards alone in the end. It was the honourable thing to do to give Liakan the chance to fight one of them first. It was also the tactical thing to keep Metra in the back until she could fight on her own.
“You do not sound overly enthused.”
“The Azure Tribe are my enemies by circumstance, not because I have any animosity towards them,” John said. “It brings me no joy to cross their plans, it is merely to my advantage that the middle-American power would align more with me than them.”
“The positioning of the Eternal Sanctum will be quite interesting, now that all of this territory has been claimed by lesser powers.” Kharn greedily took the new bowl of snacks from the servant girl’s hands. “I suppose it will be made easier once you have Nahua by your side.”
“You are quite certain that is how that will end.”
“The daughter’s liking for you has been quite clear, despite the snide remarks she made at times,” Kharn answered readily. “Even now she is likely telling Huitzilopochtli all about how disrespectful and cute you are. The woman wants to chat a lot.”
Before John could answer, the fight in the arena began. Ehtra, her Blood Halo still charged, met with Liakan. Spear and sword were repeatedly clashing. Any hits that made it through the defences bounced off particle scales or the Astrotium armour of the other.
Their fight continued back and forth, remarkably even. Liakan was held back by her compassion. If she Unleashed in this setting, she would have, at the very least, blasted the arena itself to smithereens. Was that intended? Would she pull that trigger?
“Are you aware of the disadvantaged position you have put Liakan in?” John wondered.
Through a mouthful of meat, Kharn answered, “Huitzilopochtli’s decision, not mine.”
‘Interesting,’ John thought, then a shocked sensation echoed through the depths of his soul. His attention snapped to the battle below.
Ehtra herself twisted violently with her whole body. An arcane projectile hit her hard in the side, but she did not acknowledge it with anything more than a hiss. The pain was buried under mountains of hatred, growing ever taller with each second. The feathers of the grey angel’s wings quivered, a thousand blades rattling against themselves. “She’s here,” she whispered with lips and mind, her contempt so complete she barely managed to speak. “MOTHER CHAOS IS HERE!”