Kasar groaned as he awakened. Sipha, Oshi, and Rhind sat around him in the general quarters where the fighters were allowed an hour or two of the day to roam and mingle. Soldiers lined the entrances and all weapons were removed. Here, Kasar usually chatted with his cohorts about whatever he felt curious for that day. Today, he wished he didn’t wake as the effects from the potions started to weigh him down.

  “He’s awake,” said Sipha with a grin. She placed a hand on his face and slid up with her hand to his brow as if to check for a fever. “You’re alright.” Her voice sounded soft Kasar realized she leaned close to him. Much closer than anyone had before. As he sat up, he bumped into her head and yelped.

  “Sorry, Sipha,” said Kasar, rubbing his forehead.

  She snickered and her cheeks turned a reddish hue. “Don’t you worry, Grim.”

  Oshi and Rhind gave her a sidelong glance.

  Kasar would have asked what the strange looks were for, but he had more pressing concerns “Where’s Vorza?” he asked.

  Rhind grumbled at his name.

  Oshi shoved him aside. “Go pout somewhere.” Rhind rolled his eyes, but remained seated.

  “Vorza is bargaining for your life, Grim,” said Rhind. “He is negotiating a deal with Akonai.”

  “What do you mean a deal?” asked Kasar.

  “Don’t worry about it right now,” said Sipha. “You did well. I’m sure Akonai will see how much you drive the crowd mad with your skills.”

  “But why debate then?” asked Kasar.

  “Akonai wants to pit you against us,” said Rhind, glaring at him. “Vorza knows you’d disagree, and none of us want to die.”

  Kasar scoffed. “I would never kill you all.”

  “You would be forced to, boy,” said Oshi.

  “I would defy him,” said Kasar, standing up despite his swaying head.

  “Keep your voice down, Grim,” said Rhind.

  “I’m not Grim!” roared Kasar.

  The soldiers marched up to Kasar with their sticks.

  “Step forward more and you’ll wish you died in the pits,” snarled Kasar.

  The soldiers hesitated if only because they saw him fight the Guard. “Keep it down, Grim,” one said, before marching away.

  Several other gladiators cast awed glances toward him. The soldiers kicked one and shouted. “Keep your eyes to yourselves, you maggots.”

  “They’re afraid,” said Sipha. “Akonai believes you stirred things up too much and wants to break you down.”

  “How?’ asked Kasar.

  “By having you kill your friends,” said Oshi.

  “And if I refuse?” asked Kasar.

  “Are you an idiot?” asked Rhind. “We just said you can’t.”

  “No,” said Kasar. “I want to know what you would do if I refused.”

  Rhind blinked, confused.

  “Side with you,” said Sipha, standing beside him and taking his hand.

  Kasar liked her touch, and tried to remember whether Valkenians were truly this affectionate with everyone. Probably just close friends, and Sipha had helped Kasar with much of his training, and always listened to him even when all others laughed at his ideals.

  Oshi shrugged. “Either that or we fight someone else.” She was fidgeting with satchels full of ashes. She claimed it granted her not only powers but good fortune.

  “And live,” added Rhind.

  “This isn’t living,” said Kasar.

  “What do you know?” asked Rhind. “I’ve been here three years. You have no idea.”

  “You look comfortable,” said Kasar.

  Rhind stood up as well to face Kasar. “What are you trying to say?”

  “If you don’t like being here, why don’t you do something?”

  “You’re a fucking idiot.”

  “And you won’t even try.”

  Rhind punched Kasar in the stomach. Everyone gasped, but instead of seeing their fabled Grim butcher the Ingstadian, Kasar simply wheezed and laughed, crouched to his knees.

  “All that anger,” said Kasar. “Why not use it?’

  “You think we haven’t tried?” asked Rhind. “Many tried long ago with your prized mentor. There’s a reason, Grim. A reason we don’t even think about it.”

  “What is that reason?” asked Kasar.

  “Me,” said Akonai’s voice before Kasar’s world turned to pure agony.

  ***

  Kasar screamed. His feet left the floor. His arms flailed and legs shook. In those stretched out moments of suffering Kasar realized when he scared off the soldiers, the gladiators were not in awe of his boldness to them. The soldiers didn’t represent might. They were merely an alarm system designed to alert Akonai that the slaves needed his presence.

  The pain he subdued Kasar with represented the real reason the gladiators were in awe. Kasar chose to poke not a bear or lion or monster. He chose to poke a god.

  “You’ve created quite the myth,” said Akonai. He curled his hands and the weaves that bound Kasar with magic wrapped tighter, the pain turning into a frenzy of molten maggots squirming through his veins and flesh. He felt them squeeze out his eyes. He clawed at his face but there was nothing but his agape mouth locked into a hoarse cry. His voice started to give away.

  Akonai cackled and stomped his foot, as if some thoroughly entertained child. He let the spell go and Kasar sensed the magic disappear. Perhaps if he sensed the absence, he could next time sense the magic itself. He collapsed onto the ground. Sipha held him upright. Rhind and Oshi stepped back and bowed.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “I am beyond your scope, boy,” spat Akonai. “Your myth. Your legacy. It means nothing compared to mine. I served in the Triscourge. I served as a mage. I seared thousands of each of the monsters you will face in my pits. Oh, and you will face them. I will force you to live up to your myth. I will test you. Drive you into the sand. You will make me gold and I will make you bleed.” He frothed as he roared his words.

  Everyone else was silent.

  Kasar gave Sipha a pat on the shoulder so she could let him go to stand on his own. He glared at Akonai.

  “Are you proud?” Kasar rasped.

  “What?” asked Akonai.

  “Of all this.”

  “I have created an empire from this show, boy,” said Akonai. “Don’t plead morality to me.”

  Kasar sighed. “Why is it that I get ridiculed for basic things like not being a murdering pig, but killing, looting, and torturing is commended when it’s done for gold.”

  Akonai scoffed. “Vorza was right. You’re a child.” He gestured to the room of sweating slaves and soldiers. “Welcome to the real world. Your next fight is tomorrow.” Akonai strode out and mockingly paraded the chant, “Hail Grim! Grim! Grim!” He cackled as he left.

  Kasar stumbled to his knees again and Sipha knelt beside him.

  “I can’t tell if you’re insane or not,” said Sipha.

  “He’s an ass,” said Kasar. “I can’t believe people like him get lauded over. And you all laugh at me.”

  “Because you ARE a child,” said Rhind. “You talk enough to get yourself killed. I’m surprised you’re not already.”

  “Maybe the fates are good and support me,” mused Kasar.

  Rhind grabbed Kasar by the throat and lifted him up. Sipha tried to help, but he swatted her aside. He was stronger than he let on.

  “The fates are not good,” he growled.

  “Let him go, Rhind,” cried Sipha, drawing her knives.

  The soldiers didn’t even bother intervening.

  “They are not kind,” said Rhind, tears in his eyes. “They are sadistic, and cruel.” He threw Kasar into a set of chairs and tables. Kasar hit the ground hard and gasped for air. Rhind stormed off. Vorza walked in and passed him. They exchanged a death glare before Rhind vanished to the cells.

  Vorza gave Kasar a sad look. “We have to get you ready for tomorrow,” he said. “You’re facing a pack of Grokians.”

  “Who’s with me?” rasped Kasar, kneeling and rubbing his throat.

  Vorza sighed. “Nobody.”

  ***

  Kasar stood at the gates with the cheering crowd outside. He smelled the Grokians on the opposite side of the pits where several dozen Grokians scrambled to get through the gates. They raked their claws against the boundaries. Some pounded the metal doors with their fists or crude weapons. Grokians came in the form of either lupine humanoid monsters who would bite and claw their way to your heart. Or they came as pigheaded humanoids that carried large axes or hammers or whatever Akonai had given them. Kasar knew from Vorza’s stories about them, that a northern breed stormed in looking like pale, but bulkier humans.

  They multiplied in blood fueled nests, spawning asexually. Kasar’s parents helped clearing some of those nests while on the road for some good coin. Kasar initially was training so much with them to one day fight beside them.

  Now he fought alone against these monsters.

  Inside Kasar’s pockets rested three vials of healing potions. He ensured to wrap them with cloth so the action didn’t crack them. Even with the potions this fight was deadly. There was a limit to fighting a crowd. Vorza and Kasar trained all night for the fight, using other brews to keep Kasar awake and his sleep deprived fatigue at bay. Even now, the energy from his last swig coursed through him and he wanted to sprint or hit something.

  “Breathe,” said Vorza. “Remember your training. It’s a horde. They are stupid. Use that.”

  Kasar nodded and cracked his neck.

  “How many do you count?” asked Vorza.

  “Thirty four,” said Kasar.

  Vorza frowned as he strained his senses to recount himself. With a relieved and pleased look he chuckled. “You’re a little better than me with your senses. But I’m also old.”

  Kasar scoffed. “Age doesn’t matter when you have magic and potions.”

  “It’s all in the mind,” said Vorza. “Just like how your victory’s in your mind.”

  “I’m picturing glaring at Akonai with a bloody smile after all of this.”

  “Don’t provoke him, Grim,” said Vorza.

  “Not you too,” said Kasar. “I am Kasar. The rest can keep their names and whatever. But to you, I am Kasar.”

  Vorza’s eyes glistened and he gave the young Devil a warm smile. “Kasar. You will win this.”

  “I will win this.”

  ****

  The gates opened and Kasar walked out in his Devil’s Garb. They restitched the tears and readded the padding that Kasar’s last fight had shredded. He walked out like a Devil, bold, proud, and defiant. He shot Akonai a venomous look.

  I make you money, and you give me things to make corpses of. Soon enough, baldy, I’m going to kill you.

  “People of Akonai City and beyond!” bellowed the announcer. “Many of you have come from far away and remained for this fight. To see the young Devil, Grim face his next challenge. The rest of you are our regulars, here to see a legend rise or to see a whelp fall. He will face a threat that most of our fighters face with an accomplice or two. We saw his merit in the field of battle against seven of our finest warriors. However, can the Devil face off against thirty four gruesome, fearsome, and feral Grokians!”

  The audience rose in excitement and clapped their hands in thunderous unity.

  Kasar did not waver his glare from Akonai who sneered at him.

  I do not fear this horde. I only fear not doing my best. I will give it my best. All out. Or fall out.

  Kasar unsheathed his blade. He tried to reflect the light up into his eyes and saw Akonai’s smirk falter. Kasar’s grin widened.

  The gates opened and before they even reached halfway up, the first wave crawled through and barreled at Kasar. Their paws, hooves, and crudely donned boots kicked up sand and dirt. This worked perfectly. If they trickled in like this, Kasar would have a chance. It was just as they strategized last night.

  Kasar bolted forward to meet them. He dodged and ducked as usual, swiping his saber as he went, carving through their thick pelt and flesh. Seven died within the matter of a few seconds. The next wave was the entire remaining horde which was also expected as the larger monsters would struggle to snake their way through earlier.

  Hundreds of years of brutal warfare against these brutish frontliners changed how the infantries of the world fought them. However, none of the armies ever adapted as well as the Devils. To face these brutes in a shield wall or a pike formation meant severe casualties. A crushing tidal wave against a rigid shoreline. Only the Devils understood with these monsters, one had to dance around the edge of death.

  Kasar used the bodies of the fallen to gain higher ground. They lurched after him and he leaped up off the corpses and over their heads. The Grokians stumbled over each other, trying to claw at him, swing at him, or bite at him. He remained out of reach all the way down.

  Kasar’s blade lashed out in a long arc during his sail through the air, cleaving through three Grokian skulls. The edge of his saber aligned well and struck true near the region of the neck where stell met soft flesh, and the tip of the spinal cord, and his existing momentum letting the metal carve through the tough bone. The horde tripped over one another. These things were starving, but this helped Kasar more than the slavers realized. They moved off of pure impulse, unable to use even the basic tactical intellect of a predator creature.

  As they fell, Kasar landed amidst the ones that still stood, eager to kill. He used a traditional stance to block, dodge, and cut through the group. He knew where every blow would land before it did. He could feel each of their intentions as they moved, the way their muscles tightened, or where their beady eyes flitted to. The breath on their repulsive maws wafted a certain direction as they tightened their core and balance to prepare a strike or shift a different direction.

  It was the flowing state of a Dancing Devil where his senses perceived the most they could, and pieced it together for him like an omniscient tapestry of violence. Kasar weaved through that tapestry like a free agent, a thread and needle with its own will, its own brilliant design. Like an artist he snaked through the Grokians, cutting, tripping, carving, and creating a bloody mural.

  The audience watched in beautiful horror as they saw another Dancing Devil rise through the ranks. This was the first time Kasar ever achieved the Dance.

  By the end of his performance he huffed and puffed before eight of the remaining Grokians that clambered after him over their brethren’s bodies. He’d suffered some cuts and bruises, but nothing lethal. He charged at them, roaring as he did. He hacked through one, spun through another, stabbed a third, dodged a fourth, rolled under a fifth who ran into the fourth, cleaved through the fifth, chopped into the sixth, ducked under the seventh who cut into the fourth, and executed the fifth and final Grokian, forming yet another mound at his feet.

  He dripped in dark, Grokian blood. Kasar glared up at an astonished Akonai and a raving crowd.

  Akonai cast his gaze at the frenzied crowd before staring at the young Devil standing over his fallen foes. A smile crept onto his face.

  How far can I push you? Akonai’s expression said.

  Not far enough, was what Kasar glowered back with.