"Root him!" Alistair barked. His voice cut through the din like a blade.

  Thessaly moved without hesitation. [Rootbind Grasp] flared through her outstretched hands, vines bursting from the broken earth, coiling around Kael’s thrashing limbs mid-leap.

  [Rootbind Grasp Activated]

  Target Immobilized: 3 seconds.

  "Buddy PIN HIM!" Alistair shouted.

  The hellhound leapt, molten eyes blazing. It smashed into Kael with bone-jarring force, pinning him flat. Jaws clamped on the elf’s shoulder, claws anchoring his arms.

  Kael thrashed and screamed, body arching, wild and blind.

  Hold him. Gods, HOLD HIM.

  Alistair barely had time to breathe.

  “Circle! Now!” he ordered.

  The three of them shifted instantly, back to back, weapons raised.

  And the world exploded around them.

  The Arena was no longer a battlefield. It was a meat grinder.

  Champions surged from every side, howling, bleeding, their sanity long gone. Spells flared. Blades flashed. Bodies fell.

  There was no strategy, no sides. Just raw, ravenous violence.

  Alistair gripped Thessaly’s bond hard, anchoring himself against the pull of madness. Brimma’s link pulsed cold and bright beside it.

  [Mental Instability: 39% → 36%]

  Stay sharp. Stay alive.

  The first wave hit them hard.

  A dual-wielding dwarf lunged straight at Brimma, axes raised high.

  "Brimma LEFT!" Alistair roared.

  She barely turned, blasted the dwarf with a wild bolt of green energy. The shot staggered him, but not enough.

  Alistair lunged in, Redcrystal Sword arcing clean through the dwarf’s neck.

  [Enemy Champion Eliminated]

  Blood sprayed, another body down. A thousand more to go.

  “They’re everywhere!” Brimma snapped.

  Alistair could hear the strain in her voice.

  Small frame, frail constitution, this wasn’t her fight. And they all knew it.

  Brimma spun, casting again. Bolts of raw green energy shot wide, missing two incoming warriors.

  Thessaly moved in, bare fists crackling with thorns. She slammed one berserker aside, bark-covered skin deflecting a wild sword swing.

  Alistair parried a spear thrust, countered with a vicious riposte.

  [HP: 173 → 159.]

  [Mental Instability: 36% → 40%]

  Damn it. Stay focused. Don’t lose the bonds.

  He latched onto Brimma’s bond again, felt her desperation. Her terror. He poured calm through the link.

  [Mental Instability: 40% → 34%]

  More champions surged in, bodies crashing like waves against their small circle.

  Buddy snarled behind them, still locked on Kael, claws digging in deeper.

  But Alistair caught it, a faint pulse through their bond.

  Buddy’s health is dropping. Fast.

  [Buddy HP: 438 → 401 → 377.]

  He can’t hold Kael much longer.

  "Brimma Veil! Now!"

  She raised her staff [Veil of Dread] washed over them, shadows rippling outward.

  [Veil of Dread Activated.]

  Nearby enemies staggered, some flinching, eyes wide.

  It bought them precious seconds.

  But then an arrow took Brimma in the thigh, she screamed, staggered.

  "Thess cover her!"

  Thessaly snarled, lunged sideways, fists flying. One archer went down, another caught a thorned punch to the face.

  Alistair swept low, cleaving a glaive-wielder’s leg clean off.

  Another kill. Another inch of breathing room.

  [HP: 159 → 144.]

  [Mental Instability: 34% → 38%]

  But Brimma was struggling now, limping, blood trailing from her leg.

  "Stay close!" Alistair growled.

  She barely had time to nod.

  Bolts of green energy flew wildly from her staff, some hit, some missed.

  "Damn this! I can’t keep up!" she snarled.

  Another berserker charged her, massive hammer raised high.

  Alistair lunged. Too late.

  Thessaly intercepted, body-checking the attacker mid-strike. Her bark-skin cracked under the blow, she grunted, blood running from her scalp.

  "Thanks." Brimma hissed, voice tight.

  The circle was shrinking.

  Champion bodies piled around them, but for every one they dropped, three more came.

  Alistair’s arms ached. His breath came in ragged bursts.

  And still they came.

  Buddy’s bond pulsed harder, Kael thrashed beneath him, wild and relentless.

  [Buddy HP: 377 → 342 → 311.]

  [Mental Instability: 38% → 41%]

  Hold the bonds. Hold the damn line.

  A blade caught Brimma’s side, deep.

  She gasped, stumbled.

  "Thess!" Alistair shouted.

  Thessaly spun, [Rootbind Grasp] lashed out, pinning another attacker mid-strike.

  Brimma blasted the next closest champion with raw green force, her face pale, sweat pouring down her brow.

  "I can’t..." she started.

  "You can. Because if you can’t, I’m not carrying you. I’m already bleeding, thanks."

  The sea of champions closed tighter.

  Alistair fought like a cornered beast, blades flashing, blood flying. His hands shook with the strain. He used ability after ability trying to remain alive.

  Every time he lost grip on his bonds, Mental Instability spiked.

  41% → 46%

  No. No. Not now.

  46% → 39%

  He latched onto Thessaly, onto Brimma, held.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  They were being buried, cut from every side. No plan. No escape.

  Only survival.

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  Another hammer blow took Thessaly in the ribs. She roared, crushed her attacker with a savage punch.

  Alistair took an axe to the arm, deep.

  [HP: 144 → 121]

  Blood ran freely now, his vision blurred.

  Buddy howled behind them, health ticking lower.

  [Buddy HP: 311 → 278 → 243]

  They couldn’t last like this.

  They weren’t meant to.

  "Brace!" Alistair shouted. Voice raw.

  The three of them tightened their circle, bleeding, gasping, still fighting.

  And the Arena roared around them.

  Madness.

  Chaos.

  Death.

  And no end in sight.

  They were losing ground.

  It wasn’t strategy anymore. Just attrition.

  Every time Alistair blocked a strike, another one came from the side. Every time Brimma blasted a champion off their flank, two more lunged to fill the gap.

  The tide was pushing them, forcing them toward the gigantic skeleton.

  And there was nothing they could do about it.

  "Left! Orcs!" Thessaly shouted.

  Three berserk orcs crashed through the pile of corpses, bone axes swinging wide. Their faces were a mask of blood and froth.

  Alistair lunged, parried the first axe with a teeth-jarring block, drove his dagger up under the orc’s chin.

  [Enemy Champion Eliminated]

  Blood sprayed across his face. He barely blinked.

  Stay alive. Hold the bonds. Move.

  They shuffled backward, boots skidding in the gore-soaked earth.

  And out of the corner of his eye, Buddy.

  Still standing over Kael. Still obeying.

  The hellhound was hunched low now, black blood streaking its flanks. Its eyes burned molten red, but its strength was flagging.

  [Buddy HP: 243 → 216 → 193]

  Alistair’s heart twisted.

  The damn mutt looked ready to fight the whole Arena if that’s what the order required. And knowing Buddy, he probably would. Gods, he was going to get him killed with one stupid command.

  “You stubborn bastard,” he muttered “I don’t deserve you.”

  If I let him, he’ll die. Just because I told him to. Just because he can’t disobey.

  But Kael…

  Damn it.

  Alistair clenched his teeth. Not yet. Not until I have no choice.

  The sea of bodies surged again.

  This time a triad of lizardkin stormed them, scaled warriors with jagged scimitars, tongues flicking between serrated teeth.

  “Down!” Alistair barked.

  Brimma blasted one with green force, a second too late.

  The lizardkin’s blade carved a deep line across Thessaly’s thigh, she hissed, drove her fist through its skull in return.

  [Thessaly HP: Low.]

  Blood stained her bark-skin. She stumbled.

  “Potions! Now!” Alistair shouted.

  Brimma was already moving, grimacing, fumbling into her pouch.

  She yanked out two battered vials, passed one to Thessaly, popped the other herself.

  "Drink, quick!"

  Alistair slashed a tattooed human berserker across the ribs to buy them space, then turned, eyes narrowing.

  A gray-skinned hob in bone-plated armor was charging through the melee, dual cleavers raised.

  Alistair grinned.

  Perfect target.

  He flared his mana [Sanguine Grasp] pulsing through his veins.

  [Sanguine Grasp Activated]

  Blood surged. He reached into the hob’s body, seized the flow mid-beat.

  The hob staggered, eyes wide, veins bulging.

  [Failed Constitution Save]

  The creature convulsed, dragged three meters toward him.

  Alistair didn’t wait.

  He met the pull mid-step, Redcrystal Sword glowing.

  [Imbued Strike Activated]

  CRACK.

  The blade cleaved through ribs and spine, the hob collapsed mid-scream.

  A flood of warmth surged through Alistair’s limbs.

  “Thanks for the donation,” he muttered. “I’ll put it to good use.”

  [HP Restored: 121 → 149]

  He exhaled hard, grinned despite the blood on his teeth.

  "Much better. Who’s next?"

  Another wave came.

  Horned satyrs with jagged knives and bone charms rattling at their waists.

  A gnome blademaster darting beneath the taller warriors, eyes black with madness.

  Spells flared, arrows rained.

  They kept moving. Back, back, always back.

  The skeleton loomed closer now, impossibly huge. Bone-white against the carnage.

  Brimma stumbled, slammed another champion back with a snarl.

  Her voice was raw.

  "I can’t keep this up. Too many. Too fast."

  Alistair slashed another satyr across the face, spun.

  "What are you saying? That better not be ‘I’m dying’ talk," he snapped. "I already used my one inspiring speech today." "

  Brimma’s eyes flashed.

  "I’m pulling my ace," Brimma said, panting. "Time to go spider."

  Alistair blinked.

  "Now? Really? Mid-murder-mob?"

  She bared her teeth. "You got a better idea?"

  He grabbed her wrist, harder than he meant to. "You shift here, they’ll carve you like festival pie before the first leg grows."

  Brimma grinned, savage. "Then bake me a shield, bloodboy. I’m going in."

  Alistair’s eyes narrowed.

  Fine. Let’s do it.

  He gripped Brimma’s bond tight, locked eyes with her.

  "You get one boost. Make it count. And if you grow extra legs, please don’t bite me."

  Mana flared, [Tactical Flow] surged through the bond.

  [Tactical Flow Activated.]

  Target: Brimma. Next skill: +50% effectiveness, cooldown halved, no mana cost.

  Brimma’s grin widened, feral now.

  "Good boy. Watch me."

  She planted her staff, eyes blazing.

  "Spider’s Will."

  Green light erupted around her, earth cracking beneath her feet.

  A wave of force surged outward. Thorns, limbs, dark chitin swirling into form.

  Alistair raised his blades, blood dripping.

  "Form up, blades out. Try to look dangerous, we’ve got a reputation to maintain."

  And Brimma began to change.

  Brimma’s spell broke like a thunderclap.

  Green light exploded outward, her staff driving deep into the ground.

  Her small frame vanished in a flash of earthen power and shadow.

  And in her place a spider rose.

  Not some skittery little thing, a monster, nearly as tall as Alistair’s shoulder. Eight gleaming black legs, chitin glistening like obsidian, thorned and jagged.

  The crowd faltered. For a heartbeat.

  Then they came again.

  Brimma shrieked, a high, resonant sound that shook the air.

  Her front legs speared through a charging minotaur, driving through bone and armor like wet parchment.

  CRUNCH.

  She flung the body aside, legs already skewering the next fool brave enough to lunge.

  Gods, remind me never to piss her off.

  But the tide pressed harder. The champions were everywhere now, blind, maddened, relentless.

  And they were driving the group ever closer to the dragon.

  Alistair could feel the pull in his bones, Purpose Override thrumming beneath every breath.

  And then his gaze caught on Buddy.

  Bleeding. Bad.

  The hellhound was still locked on Kael’s last position, standing guard over where the elf had been pinned.

  And Buddy, gods, Buddy was listing, breath ragged, flanks drenched in blood.

  [Buddy HP: 193 → 128 → 91]

  Alistair’s heart seized.

  "If I leave him, he’ll die."

  The bond trembled under his grip.

  DAMN IT.

  He grit his teeth and bellowed: "Buddy defend yourself! Come to me! Now!"

  The beast hesitated, torn between its last command and its master’s voice.

  Then it spun, jaws snapping, burning a path through the nearest attackers as it charged toward Alistair.

  Good boy. Gods, good boy.

  But Kael vanished among the sea of champions.

  Alistair swallowed the sick knot in his throat.

  "Not now. We’ll find him later. Focus."

  They were less than twenty meters from the skeleton now, its vast ribcage rising like the ruins of a sunken ship.

  The bones pulsed faintly, alive with trapped power.

  And then the next brute came for him.

  Big. Tall. Broad as a cart.

  An ogre hybrid of some kind, skin like cracked stone, muscles bulging beneath jagged leather and spiked bone.

  Its axe looked like it had been forged out of half a gate.

  It locked eyes on Alistair and charged.

  "Oh great. I always wanted to get flattened by a building."

  Alistair planted his feet.

  Mana surged through him [Searing Vein] flaring in his veins.

  [Searing Vein Activated]

  Black-red magic lanced into the ogre’s chest, vessels rupturing beneath the skin.

  It roared, stumbled but kept coming.

  Perfect.

  [Vesselbreaker Triggered]

  Alistair’s dagger struck deep, feeding the rupture, arterial blood spraying across both of them.

  "Come on, you ugly bastard. Let’s dance."

  He toggled [Firebite], daggers glowing with hungry flame.

  [Firebite Active.]

  +5 fire damage, Warmth stacking.

  The ogre swung a massive overhead strike.

  Alistair dove right, blade slicing across its thigh.

  [Critical Hit!]

  [Warmth: +1 stack]

  Another roar, another swing.

  Alistair ducked, countered, stabbed deep under its ribs.

  [Warmth: +2 stacks]

  "Keep bleeding, big guy. I like you better on fire."

  The ogre caught him with a glancing backhand. Alistair staggered, ribs screaming.

  [HP: 149 → 117]

  "Ow. Okay. Less fun now."

  But the opening was there.

  Alistair flared his aura, eyes narrowing.

  "Let’s end this."

  [Noble Edict Activated]

  "KNEEL."

  The command cracked like a whip.

  The ogre shuddered, legs buckling under the force of his word.

  "Good boy."

  Alistair lunged, [Imbued Strike] flaring through his blade.

  [Imbued Strike Activated]

  He drove the sword up under its chin, straight through the brain.

  [Enemy Champion Eliminated]

  The beast collapsed, shaking the earth.

  DING.

  A bright notification popped into his vision.

  [Level Up! You are now Level 22]

  +4 Attribute Points Earned.

  +3 Agility

  +2 Dexterity

  +Skill Up Available.

  Alistair snorted, swiped it away.

  "Later. Little busy right now."

  Then another notification window popped, this one sharp, insistent.

  [Arena Reset Countdown Initiated]

  Time until Arena Reset: 00:19:58.

  Warning: Crystal Dragon Skeleton will vanish upon reset. All unclaimed Essence Crystals will be lost.

  Alistair’s breath caught.

  "Oh shit."

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