In front of the small stage a circle of ground had been cleaned and marked, showing what looked like a fighting pit. It was wider than it was long, giving the fighters enough room to move around, but not so much that they could run around each other.

  “We do like a good show. Who is this legend you speak of?” Zarik asked politely with his big smile.

  “None other than the dragonslayer; Martin Eurus!” Ashborn threw his arms out to the sides, as Martin was pushed into the circle in front of the small stage, the slavers were still getting ready to see the events, clapping as they sat. His hands were still bonded, there were enough give between his hands, that he could move one hand without the other coming with.

  “I have a couple of guys who would love to kick around the legend himself.” Ashborn continued, as one of the orcs that have been driving their wagon and the half-fiend Martin have punched when he was first captured, both entered the makeshift circle. “So, I thought I would be a kind king and let them have a go before the main event.”

  “Could one of you two gentlemen be so kind as to help me with these bandages?” Martin said in a calm and measured tone, as he slowly walked towards his two opponents, holding his hands up.

  The half-fiend took a couple of steps to the side, while the orc started moving towards the much smaller man, Martin was not by any means a short man, but when compared to an orc, he was at least two heads shorter and a lot slimmer. The orc started to pick up the pace, pulling a club half the size of Aldric off his back.

  “That seems to be a no, on helping.” Martin replied as he picked up his own pace. “So be it.”

  The orc stopped his forward momentum to swing the giant club at Martin. Martin moved out of the way with an easy roll of the body to the side. This was when the half-fiend decided to join the fight, dual wielding a pair of shortswords. A lot quicker than the orc, the half-fiend sprinted towards Martin, both swords out and ready. But once again they failed to meet their target, as Martin managed to jump back from the first swing and to the side from the second.

  “Now now, this is not very gentlemanly of the two of you.” Martin scowled, keeping a wary eye on both. “But luckily for you, it is not my first time.”

  The half-fiend took his chance while Martin was talking to charge the older man. First cutting from the side, and then from the top. This time instead of jumping out of the way for the last swing, Martin led the short sword fall against him.

  “Thank you very much, I deeply appreciate your help.” Martin said, smiling smockly as he removed the binding from his arms.

  The half-fiend brimmed with anger, Aldric felt the hatred from his spot in the cage. Is this the magic Martin was talking about? I can feel the anger. no, the hatred. The feeling was angry and smelled a bit of burning coal, like a fire. But Martin felt light and fast. Aldric hadn’t noticed before, but Martin wasn’t a big man, neither was he short. Actually, now that Aldric thought about it, Martin wasn’t very remarkable to look at. What made him stand out were his personality and his confidence. He always seemed to be in control of the situation and knew something, everyone else didn’t. Aldric saw Martin in a new light, as he watched Martin dance around the orc and half-fiend. He felt a light refreshing sense of spring, when he looked at Martin.

  Martin dodged another wide swing from the orc, and moved at a sprint towards the half-fiend, who seemed in turn to become visibly darker, his skin didn’t turn a darker color. But as if he was expelling dark clouds from his center mass. Everything around the hatred filled half-fiend became shrouded in darkness, like a formless smoke filling the area around him. Martin seemed not to care one bit as he charged into the darkness. With the orc, standing on the outskirts of the sphere of darkness, waiting for his next chance to swing his giant club.

  For a long while, nothing happened, everyone staring at the darkness, as a single word or grunt could be heard, followed by long silences. All of sudden, the blackness disappeared, and Martin was standing over the powerless body of the half-fiend, holding one of the half-fiend’s shortswords. Martin had cuts and bruises up his arms, showing the battle wasn’t easily won in the darkness.

  The orc stared intently at his fallen comrade, and then up at Martin. The orc’s face was screwed up in a mancing expression of anger, before he could charge at Martin. Martin sprinted at him, holding the shortsword ready.

  “Shortswords is not really my weapon of choice, but I guess it will have to do.” Martin said, smiling his gentle charming smile at the orc, as he stood hilt deep in the orc’s shoulder. “It would not feel right to kill you for your king’s entertainment. Please lay down and give up on this fight.”

  It was followed by Martin’s mouth moving, but the sound was like a powerful wind blowing, and the orc fell to one knee holding his good arm to his throat, before he laid down on the ground.

  “That is a good lad.” Martin thanked the orc and moved towards the small stage and stared directly at Ashborn. “Now, Dorian Ashborn. I believe you challenged me to a duel the other day. Shall we?”

  In one quick motion, Ashborn threw off his coat, and jumped down the stage, holding two blades. One, an elegant obsidian black rapier with a beautiful hilt made of twisted steel that looked like black glass and the other, a black ragged long sword with one red rune at the hilt glowing faintly.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “I don’t want anyone telling me, I didn’t win this fairly.” Ashborn snarred as he tossed the rapier at Martin.

  “It is much appreciated.” Martin noted as he caught the rapier mid air. “You know, this does not make this a fair fight.”

  “Oh really? You get a fighting chance, don’t you?” Ashborn laughed. “What more do you need?”

  “Yes, I do have a fighting chance, but that is not what I am referring to.” Martin replied, starting to circle the taller and broader man in a proper fighting stand, if Aldric had ever seen one. “I am referring to when I kill you and want to leave this camp. Surely, your men will not let me leave.”

  “HA HA, when you kill me?” Ashborn’s laugh was loud and angry. “I don’t think you need to concern yourself with winning!”

  Ashborn jumped at Martin, his sword held high swinging down towards him. Martin dodge easily out the way, always one eye on the hungry looking man. Martin didn’t go on the attack and Ashborn’s attacks were wide, big and easily predictable. Something is not right here.

  “Are you done?” Martin asked after six or seven of Ashborn’s attacks had failed to land their mark. “You are clearly trying to lure me in, with big flashy movements.”

  “You saw through that one, eh?” Ashborn shroud his shoulders. “Alright, let’s see if you can handle this!”

  Ashborn took off in a split of a second, he is so fast! Martin dodged and paired, very much on the defensive. Ashborn’s swings were relentless, Aldric could barely see what was happening. But he got this heavy feeling and the smell of earth and wet dog from Ashborn, together with the same light refreshing sense of spring from Martin.

  A howl came from Ashborn, the sound was loud and filled with excitement. As Aldric looked closer, he could see Ashborn’s features had become longer and more wolf-like. It seemed like the wind was picking up as well. Aldric was completely swallowed up in the display in front of everyone. So much, that he didn’t notice the door to the cage open and the rest of the prisoners had been removed from the cage and only shadow-like illusions stood next to him. Finally, a hand fell on his shoulder, taking Aldric so much by surprise he jumped.

  “Easy there, pal.” a pleasant male voice sounded from his left. “I’m here to free you, come on, everyone else is already moving.”

  Aldric turned to see who was the owner of the hand, he found the shortest orc he had ever seen, smiling a calming, charming smile, a pair of friendly deep yellow eyes looking right back at him, paired with deep dark green skin.

  “Who are you? What about Martin?...” Aldric asked in quick succession.

  “Hold on, hold on. I’ll answer all that as soon as we’re out of here.” The orc replied with a laugh. “But to make you more at ease, I’m Hector. I’m a friend of Martin and he’s right, you’re a curious one.”

  “Wait, we can’t leave without Martin.” Aldric whispered, as they started to move.

  “Don’t worry, pal.” Hector replied, while turning to see the action. “He’s only buying time, so we could free you.”

  “What do you mean?” Aldric inquired, turning to look as well. “This was all planned?”

  At the moment, Martin was pairing Ashborn’s blows, the effort visible on his face.

  “We’ll step in to help, if it goes sideways.” Hector replied in a calm tone, making Aldric feel weirdly at ease with the man. “But he got it. Now come on!”

  Aldric was halfway dragged out of the cage by Hector, while he looked back at the duel. Martin chanced a look towards the cage and seemed to see that Aldric was leaving with Hector, because his fighting style changed from defensive to directly aggressive. He started to move around the bigger man in circles, landing hit after hit. But also taking some himself, the powerful swing and ragged sword did a lot of damage. The last thing Aldric saw was Martin jumping over a low swing from Ashborn, before Ashborn shouted:

  “Stand still! You insufferable relic!” Ashborn turned around, Aldric could just see the midnight black fur starting to grow on Ashborn. As Aldric got pulled out of sight, he could hear a blood freezing howl from the circle. Both Hector and Aldric stop frozen in place for a second, both terrified of turning to see what had happened with Martin.

  “He’ll be fine.” Hector pressed out through thin pressed lips, as he started to pull Aldric again. “Come on, we’ll need to be ready for the second part of the plan.”

  “The… The second part?” Aldric asked, terrified and confused.

  “Yes, come on now.” Hector continued. “Before the duel is over.”

  Aldric could feel the electricity in the air before he could hear it. The sound was earsplitting. A lighting strike followed by a thunderclap. For some reason, Aldric couldn’t explain, he looked up at the cloud free sky and down towards, where 100s of people started to run towards the circle. Aldric could only just see the familiar silhouettes of Martin standing over a giant wolf’s body. The body had a thine column of smoke rising from it.

  “Damned ones!” Hector swore under his breath. “It’s too late. The second phase just started.”

  Hector pulled out a purple black blade from somewhere inside his open waistcoat. The blade had some kind of dark purple flame, smoke rising from it. Aldric felt a warm comfortable fire under a pine tree during a storm. Where did that come from? At the same time he turned into a puff of silver smoke and that moved to the nearest bandit, who had turned around and was about to draw their weapon, Hector reappeared only to stab the unknowing victim.

  “Aldric! You have to run!” Hector called over his shoulder. “Continue until you reach a small cluster of trees to the east from here! go now! I’ll be right behind you!”

  Aldric looked for a second as Hector sprinted towards the circle, cutting and stabbing anyone in his way. For a moment, he stood there unsure of what to do, but like the lighting strike from a clear sky, he came to his senses and started sprinting out of the camp.

  Being both sneaky and nimble, Aldric made it far through the camp, before a couple of goblins noticed him. They started chasing him, laughing and shouting. Aldric tumbled over a small animal carcass, and the two goblins were on him.

  “What do we have here?” a familiar voice sounded from behind the goblins. “Now, that isn’t how we treat our guests, is it?”