Chapter 193
The arena is quieter now, but it’s not a calm quiet. It’s the charged, heavy silence that comes just before the storm. The crowd leans forward in their seats, their eager faces illuminated by the dim, flickering glow of bioluminescent orbs hanging around the arena.
The tension is electric, crackling through the water like a barely-contained current. The gates groan open again, and this time, the creatures that emerge are nothing like the swarms from before. These monsters are bigger, stronger, more ferocious—the kind of beasts born of nightmares.
The first to appear is an oversized mantis shrimp, its body gleaming like a living jewel. Its claws snap with a sound that echoes through the water, sharp and unnerving. Those claws, I realize with a sinking feeling, could crack armor like it was paper.
Behind it, shark-hybrid beasts slink out of the darkness, their bodies a horrifying blend of sleek shark musculature and grotesque mutations. Rows of spinning teeth glint as one of them opens its mouth, the noise of its grinding bite sending shivers down my spine. They don’t just look dangerous; they radiate an aura of malice, as if they’re aware of the destruction they’re about to cause.
The fighters shift their stances, tension rippling through their ranks as they take in the new threats. Even the crowd has gone still, their cheers fading to murmurs of awe and fear. Wake and Khale stand near the center of the group, their movements calm and measured.
They exchange a brief glance, a silent communication passing between them. Kota and Kelis, by contrast, are already moving to draw attention to themselves. Kota raises his trident in a dramatic flourish, and Kelis cracks his knuckles with an exaggerated motion, grinning like he’s just been handed a gift.
The battle begins with a roar—not from the crowd, but from one of the shark-beasts. It lunges forward, its powerful tail propelling it with terrifying speed. The fighters scatter, and chaos erupts.
Wake and Khale move with precision, their growing synchronicity on full display. One of the mantis creatures lunges toward Wake, its claws snapping dangerously close to his chest. He twists out of the way, using his spear to feint and keep its attention locked on him.
Meanwhile, Khale circles behind it, his whip-like tail coiling around the creature’s back legs. With a sharp, decisive motion, Khale tightens his grip, immobilizing the monster. Wake doesn’t hesitate. He drives his spear into the creature’s exposed underbelly, and it collapses in a spray of blood and shattered exoskeleton.
Khale shakes the remnants of the creature from his tail.
Wake nods, already scanning for their next target. Their movements are methodical, conserving energy and relying on each other’s strengths. It’s clear they’ve adapted quickly, their partnership becoming a crucial advantage. They’re not just fighting; they’re surviving.
In stark contrast, Kota and Kelis continue their reckless, dangerous tactics. Kota taunts one of the shark-beasts, waving his trident and yelling to draw its attention. The creature lunges at him, but Kota twists away at the last second, sending it barreling into the path of another fighter.
The unfortunate man is caught between the shark’s jaws and shredded before he can even scream. Kota doesn’t flinch. If anything, he seems pleased with himself, turning to the crowd and raising his weapon as though he’s won a great victory. The crowd eats it up, cheering louder for his theatrics.
Kelis, meanwhile, uses his brute strength to collapse parts of the arena. He hurls debris at one of the mantis creatures, but the rubble also traps two of the weaker fighters, leaving them vulnerable.
The mantis shrimp takes full advantage, its claws snapping down on the trapped men before they can free themselves. The crowd roars its approval as Kelis laughs, the sound cold and cruel. He doesn’t care about the collateral damage; to him, it’s all part of the show.
I glance at Wake, whose expression has darkened. His grip on his spear tightens, and I can see the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Focus,” Khale says sharply, catching Wake’s attention. “We don’t survive by fighting them. We survive by outlasting them.”
Wake exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Right,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing as he refocuses on the battle. Together, they push forward, their movements as fluid and synchronized as the currents themselves.
The carnage continues, the water growing murkier with blood. Several warriors fall, their bodies sinking lifelessly to the arena floor. One fighter, a strong competitor who had been holding his own, is overwhelmed by one of the shark-beasts.
It pins him against the wall, its rows of spinning teeth grinding through his armor as the crowd erupts into cheers. The sight makes my stomach turn, and I’m forced to look away. The sounds of the arena—the snapping claws, the grinding teeth, the screams of the fallen—are overwhelming.
When I glance back, my eyes find Wake. He’s moving with deadly precision, his spear flashing as he takes down another mantis creature. For a moment, his gaze lifts to the royal box, and our eyes meet.
His expression softens, just for a second, before he turns back to the fight. The brief connection fuels him, and I can see his resolve strengthen. Together, he and Khale take down one of the final creatures, their teamwork flawless.
As the second wave drags on, the arena transforms into a battlefield of ruin. The mantis creatures and shark-beasts are relentless, and every movement feels like a test of endurance. Wake and Khale’s efficiency keeps them ahead of the fray, but even they are starting to show signs of fatigue.
Wake’s strikes come a fraction slower, and Khale’s tail doesn’t lash quite as sharply. Still, they press on, refusing to falter.
Kota and Kelis, of course, revel in the attention, their antics growing more dangerous as the battle drags on. At one point, Kota deliberately lures a mantis shrimp into a group of struggling fighters, his smirk widening as chaos unfolds in his wake.
Kelis, not to be outdone, grapples a shark-beast with his bare hands, showing off his strength as he pins it to the ground. It’s reckless and unnecessary, but the crowd loves it.
The water is a murky red by the time the wave ends, debris and bodies littering the arena floor. Only thirteen fighters remain, their bodies battered but their determination unshaken. Wake and Khale stand near the center of the arena, their shoulders heaving as they catch their breath.
They exchange a tense nod, their bond unspoken but undeniable. Despite their exhaustion, there’s a fire in their eyes—a quiet resolve that tells me they’re not done yet.
Kota and Kelis, as always, bask in the crowd’s adoration. Kota lifts his trident high, grinning as though he’s the hero of this story. Kelis flexes his claws, his smug expression making my skin crawl. The audience cheers louder for them, their bloodlust sated for the moment, but my attention remains on Wake and Khale.
I turn to Cora, my voice trembling as I whisper, “I hate every second of this.”
She places a hand on mine, her touch steadying. “We’ll make it right,” she says softly, her green eyes fierce with determination. “Soon.”
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
