The knife bounced off like it was made of metal, and my moment was over. He smashed me in the back with his shield, then his knee connected with my chest, sending me sprawling to the floor, where I was almost skewered by his sword a second later.

  Still, of all my skills and lack thereof, I was a survivor. Though there was a queue of people a thousand miles long that wished I wasn’t.

  I rolled and scrabbled away with only a nick on my shoulder. Still alive. Still fighting.

  I sensed rather than saw the second sword strike coming, and kept scrabbling. Oohs and AAHs sounded from the crowd as I made some distance. We were putting on a suspense-filled show, that was for sure.

  In all the calamity, I noticed that by some stroke of luck, I’d managed to get to a favorable angle to the hammer. It would be close, but I was certain I could make it before Oblesi did.

  I sprinted.

  So did he. This was the first time he’d shown urgency in the fight, which was strange considering, for all intents and purposes, he had me on the ropes the entire fight so far.

  I dove, rolled and regained my feet, hammer back in hand as the swoosh of his blade passed an inch above my head. I didn’t stop moving and sprinted again across the arena to the sound of boos.

  I needed space if I was to regain any kind of equal footing in this fight. When I finally turned to face him again, his unwavering gaze was locked on the hammer, his eyes asking the question before his mouth could.

  “I honestly thought you had a plan with the dagger. You really thought that a war hammer was the best option against me? Did you even read my dossier?”

  I grinned, spat some blood on the sand, and brandished the hammer with menace. “I came here to make people bleed, not to read.”

  The cheeky bastard had the nerve to sigh as we circled each other. “I expected better from you. There is a scout from a powerful Archon House here, and I had hoped to impress, but this fight has become nothing short of an embarrassment. How can I showcase my talents when this is what you have brought to the arena?”

  “We’ve all got potential sponsors, jackass. Maybe you should do something a little more interesting than hiding like a fucking coward behind that massive shield?”

  For the first time, I saw a brief flicker of anger cross his smooth features. It was probably all the distraction I would get, so I charged him, once again swinging the hammer one-handed against his shield.

  I angled it so that the inevitable deflection hit the ground killing the momentum so I could bring it straight back up and defend against his inevitable sword slash.

  The plan was filled with risk, but he was even more predictable than Estwin gave him credit for.

  He tried to avoid the impact of hammer against sword arm, so the attack sailed harmlessly wide.

  That was also part of the plan.

  I used the momentum of my miss, to swing the hammer around my head. Finally, placing my left hand on the haft before bringing that metal mallet down with all my might.

  It crunched onto the top corner of his shield and caught him completely off guard.

  He recovered quickly and thrust at me with his sword. But I’d already dropped the hammer and was rolling inside his thrusting arm to make the most of the opening I’d created.

  This time, I used his chinbones as a perfect V-shaped guide to stab at his throat.

  He twisted his head, so my thrust missed its mark, but I still scored a nasty slash on the side of his neck.

  It sprayed a beautiful gout of thick, gray blood.

  He tried to wrap his arms around me, but the slick gray river made it easy to wriggle free.

  I grabbed the hammer and backed up, wanting the severity of the wound to register with him before we engaged again. I ground my teeth as I noticed the blood flow had already slowed, and he was marching after me, heavy boots clomping on the area floor in a rhythmic beat that matched the murder in his eyes.

  “You’re a good fighter,” I shouted, backing away still. “But your mid-fight shit-talk needs some serious work.”

  He darted forward, and I walloped the hammer against his shield to fend him off. He followed up with the predictable sword thrust, then added two quick-fire slashes to his repertoire.

  I had to scuffle back further or risk being cut in half. I still managed to smile. “Getting desperate, big lad?”

  He didn’t reply, and despite my display of confidence, Oblesi remained in full control, offering no openings.

  I landed a blow against his shield every so often, but the next minute of fighting consisted of me retreating. If I didn’t come up with some other bullshit soon, I was in danger of being completely worn out.

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  Bunching my muscles, I made a decision. I repeated the move I’d used to smash his shield down previously. Followed up with a swing at his sword arm.

  As you’d expect from someone of Oblesi’s skill, he read the miss this time and jumped back out of the way as my hammer swung around in an overhead arc.

  My right-handed grip was joined by my left as before, but he was out of range now.

  Perfect.

  I let go of the hammer, allowing it to shoot from my hands like shit off a stick.

  Oblesi’s eyes damn near popped out of their sockets.

  Aimed just above the top of his shield at the small amount of head on show, I didn’t expect a telling blow. It was very much a diversionary tactic. Yet, with a stroke of luck, it glanced off the top of his helmet, rocking his head back just a fraction.

  His instincts took over, and even though the danger from the hammer had passed, he raised his shield to protect his head.

  I raced in while his vision was obstructed, and threw myself at his right foot, scoring a deep cut across the back of his calf. I made the cut, but searing pain lanced across my back as I attempted to regain my feet. The force of the blow sent me staggering forward, though I tried to turn in case another attack was incoming.

  To my surprise, he hadn’t followed.

  “You have made a fool of me, Earl.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Quit your waffle and fight, fucker.”

  “I needed a good sponsor from this tournament to pay a family debt. When they are all killed, I will remember your face.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, and I didn’t really care. I was more concerned with the blood pissing out of my back. I needed all my spare mental focus to hide the pain and finish this quickly if I could.

  I charged at him, and he prepared for my attack, but he didn’t move. My mind started ticking. Was there some flaw in his physiology that meant the wound on his calf had made him immobile? Had I just cut deeper than I thought? There certainly was a decent pool of blood around his foot now.

  As the last few feet vanished, my paranoia made the decision. It could be a ploy, so I would treat every attack as though he could spring for me at any time. I moved in and out with all the speed I possessed. Faster than I’d ever been at any point in my life with the improvements from being ascended. He defended, but still didn’t move from the spot.

  I stayed mobile, and darted in and out, smashing him from all angles with the hammer, using it two-handed on occasion, but not too often. Despite my quickly growing fatigue from my own blood loss, if I got disqualified at this stage, that would be really embarrassing.

  As the first real unforced opening presented itself, my rage screamed at me to take it. My mind howled that it was a trap. I met the two in the middle and threw the hammer at his head again. His shield moved up with lightning speed, deflecting the hammer wide. He boosted it away and shot forward.

  I thanked Paranoia Earl with all my heart as I skipped away from his charge.

  To his credit, the moment Oblesi saw that I’d spotted his deception, he showed composure and returned to his original fighting style.

  “Nice try,” I acknowledged with a nod.

  “Well spotted,” came the weary reply. “I felt it was well disguised. What gave me away?”

  “Nothing really,” I said, circling around toward the hammer. “It’d probably catch most fighters off guard.”

  He moved to cut me off from my weapon, but the blood flow from the wound to his leg was coming faster, and I suspected that was his last rally.

  “But not you?”

  “Exactly.” Then I sprinted to his right towards the hammer before using all my agility to twist back and turn left, wrong-footing him. Not only was it a good move to get past him, it was a good test to see if he was faking the ankle.

  He wasn’t. I heard the involuntary exhale of air as he tried to change direction with me. And I knew I had him. I walked a full circle around him and snatched up the hammer again.

  I’d only taken my eyes of him for a moment, but he looked as though he’d aged ten years in that moment.

  I hefted the hammer and took a step forward.

  His black orbs looked sad now, no trace of the predator as he spoke, “I hear you’re excessively violent in the closing stages of a fight. And that your current keepers must employ a mage to calm the bloodlust in you.”

  “I’ve heard the same,” I grunted, punctuating my reply with the sweet sound of hammer hitting tower shield on a mighty gong.

  He grimaced, and for the first time in the fight, took a halting step back.

  “I am done, Earl. It is taking all I have to remain on my feet, and I have other tournaments I wish to try my hand in. If I can fight again, perhaps there is a chance to pay my family’s debt… If you would just allow me to lose with some dignity.”

  I was bowled over by his plea. I’d been asked to throw fights before, and my response was always the same. I took the money to take a dive, and then kicked the ever-loving shit out of my opponent until I was dragged from the ring.

  “I think you’re mistaking me for Mother Teresa. It’s not really my thing.”

  “My family was nobility until recently. I expect those days to return. I will make a powerful ally in the future.”

  “Not if you’re dead.” I swung again. Gong!

  He staggered back, and almost hit the deck.

  “Are you really so callous to refuse mercy to an honorable opponent who has offered you valuable friendship?”

  I shrugged. “Never had a good friend yet.”

  I swung the hammer from down low this time, grasping the shaft with my off-hand to add power. Oblesi toppled like a felled tree, a dust cloud enveloping him as his sword flew from his hand and his shield was flat on the ground, arm twisted at a sickening angle from my last shot.

  I shrugged and swung the hammer again, bringing it around in an arc so that it came over my head in a fluid motion to bury it into his skull.

  The crowd was going wild, even the side that didn’t like me. Funny thing, I hadn’t lost myself in the rage yet. I felt a tingling in my mind, and wondered if the mind mage was doing her work, though it felt more like an increase in Mental Acuity.

  As the hammer reached its highest point, I wondered why the fight hadn’t been called. Oblesi was so clearly done, sprawled on the ground without the strength to protect himself.

  I looked up into the VIP box where the commentator and important people stood watching me.

  Were these bastards waiting for me to finish him this time? Dodgy bastards.

  I looked back at Oblesi, and all anger drained from me. I was many things, a vicious heartless bastard chief among them, but my hatred for authority swam above all else. If they wanted this fucker dead, and he wanted to be my friend, then…

  I let the hammer fall to my side, and stepped forward. I kicked the sword further away from him. “Seems you have enemies here as well, bony beard. They’re not calling it. They want me to kill you.”

  He was barely lucid and couldn’t reply. I looked back up to the box.

  “What the fuck are you idiots playing at? First you threaten me and tell me not to kill anyone else. Then when I’ve clearly won, you’re not fucking calling the fight. If you want me to kill this fucker, then you’re going to have to ask nicely.”

  Stunned faces looked back at me. I saw the Monarch make a subtle gesture to the announcer while two tall men in golden armor frowned down at me.

  “WE HAVE A WINNER! EARTHER EARL HAS DISPATCHED OBLESI HARAK!”

  And just like that I was into the last 16. But judging by the faces of those in the box, I reckoned there was trouble to come.