Chapter 415: The Last Sting

[Author’s note has a reward for the first 10 of you]

The arena fell quiet as the announcer prepared to speak again. Kael stood near the center of the restored battlefield, surrounded by twelve young gladiators who had somehow gone from trying to kill him to fighting beneath his command. Around them, thousands of spectators leaned forward in their seats, waiting to hear what would happen next.

"FOUR VICTORIES!"

The arena floor had repaired itself completely. Broken chariots, blood, and bodies had disappeared, leaving nothing to suggest an Imperial force had been fighting there moments earlier. Even the deep crater Kael had created when he crashed into their formation had been smoothed over until the red dirt looked untouched.

"OUR CHAMPION HAS SURVIVED THE BEASTS OF THE GLADIATORIUM! HE HAS BROKEN ITS WARRIORS!"

The crowd answered with a roar, and the commentator gave them a moment to enjoy themselves before continuing. Kael listened more carefully this time. The man sounded far too pleased with everything that had happened.

"HE HAS COMMANDED MEN INTO BATTLE AND SENT THE MIGHT OF THE EMPIRE RUNNING!"

Kael could tolerate being told he had done well. The problem was the way the arena used that praise, turning every victory into a reason to expect something greater from him. Each announcement excited the spectators, and each cheer seemed to prepare them for something worse than the fight they had just witnessed.

"To prove his mettle, to prove his value..."

A blue window appeared across Kael’s vision before the announcer could finish. He stopped breathing for half a second, his attention leaving the crowd entirely as he read the message.

[Causality has been spent.]

He had seen those words before, and he knew exactly what they meant. Something powerful had looked at a situation governed by rules, decided those rules were insufficiently entertaining, and paid enough Causality to interfere directly.

The memory of Floor Eleven returned immediately. Torrac, the Lesser Death Knight, and the moment Kael’s surrender condition had disappeared. Ulsal had decided he would either win or die because divine beings apparently had very little respect for reasonable escape clauses.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

The announcer stopped midsentence. For a moment, the man looked as surprised as Kael felt, turning his face upward as though someone had called to him from above the stands. Kael followed his gaze but found nothing there. Whatever had interrupted the announcement remained beyond his sight.

"OHO! It appears that we have caught the attention of a Patron!"

The man’s surprise vanished beneath a fresh wave of excitement. The spectators exploded into cheers, apparently delighted that something powerful had taken an interest in the entertainment. Kael kept his eyes on the notification.

"Of course we have."

"What was meant to be our champion’s final test, a glorious duel against the commander of the Imperial force he so thoroughly humiliated, HAS BEEN CHANGED!"

Kael slowly closed his eyes while the crowd became deafening. A duel against the Imperial commander had sounded manageable. Unfortunately, he had already learned that divine beings apparently considered perfectly functional trials an insult to creativity.

"A PATRON HAS DEEMED OUR FINAL DUEL... TOO SIMPLE!"

The announcer let the last two words roll across the arena, and the spectators responded exactly as he had intended. Kael looked upward again, searching the empty sky with considerably less enthusiasm.

"You know, whoever you are, there is a very large difference between bravery and volunteering someone else for something suicidal."

No answer came. The notification expanded instead, confirming that the change had already been made and that Kael’s opinion had contributed nothing to the decision.

[DIVINE INTERVENTION DETECTED]

[The original parameters of the Fifth Round have been overridden.]

[Original Challenge: Imperial Commander]

[Status: REPLACED]

[New Challenge: UNKNOWN]

Kael stared at the final line. The Tower had apparently decided that informing him of the interference was sufficient without explaining what he would actually have to fight.

"Fucking perfect... Just my stinking luck."

The ground shook beneath his boots. When the Twin-Headed Ogre had entered the arena, its weight had made the floor tremble. This movement came from deeper below, accompanied by a grinding noise that carried through the stone foundations. The entire structure groaned as something enormous began forcing its way upward.

The twelve young gladiators backed toward Kael. Their confidence after the previous battle had disappeared, and several tightened their grips on their weapons as cracks spread through the red dirt. Kael could not blame them. He was watching the same ground and liking it less with every passing second.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

The commentator’s voice had become almost reverent. Before he could continue, something black punched through the arena floor, scattering dirt and fragments of stone. A huge, curved claw emerged sideways from the opening, its armored surface reflecting sunlight like polished obsidian.

It opened once, then snapped shut with a crack that carried across the Gladiatorium. Several spectators screamed in excitement as a second claw erupted beside it. Long, segmented legs followed, their black armor scraping against the broken floor as they searched for purchase.

The legs looked thin compared to the body rising behind them, but each was still thicker than a man’s torso. One planted its pointed end against the arena floor and cracked the surface beneath it. Others followed, bracing around the opening as the earth bulged upward and the creature dragged itself free.

"AKRAB! THE LAST STING!"

The audience went insane. Kael remained silent, watching the thing emerge until he could finally understand its shape. There were moments when a joke helped, but he was having trouble finding one.

Akrab was a scorpion, or something built from the idea of one and enlarged until the concept became unreasonable. Its body stretched across a significant portion of the arena, with overlapping black plates covering its back. The armor was sleek enough to reflect distorted images of the stands above, and each monstrous claw looked capable of closing around Kael’s entire torso.

Its long legs held the central body several meters above the ground. Behind that armored bulk rose two enormous segmented tails, each curled over its back and ending in a crooked black stinger. Kael watched both tips carefully as thick green liquid gathered along their points.

Even from dozens of meters away, he could smell it. The sharp, chemical odor reached him as Akrab pulled the last of its body from the broken ground and shuddered. Its exoskeleton rattled, producing a dry, rapid sound that reminded Kael of a rattlesnake, only amplified through something the size of a house.

The young gladiators instinctively moved back. Kael took one step with them before consciously deciding to move, which annoyed him almost as much as the creature itself. Above them, the commentator had already begun supplying a history.

"LONG AGO, BEYOND THE WESTERN DESERTS, THERE LIVED A PEOPLE WHO WORSHIPPED A GUARDIAN OF BLACK CHITIN AND POISON!"

Kael glanced toward the announcer, then back at the enormous creature. The man had recovered from the interruption remarkably quickly for someone who apparently had an entire civilization’s tragic history prepared.

"You made that up in less than ten seconds."

"THEIR NATION FELL BEFORE THE MIGHT OF THE EMPIRE! THEIR WARRIORS DIED, THEIR TEMPLES BURNED!"

Akrab’s claws snapped again as its tails rose higher. The audience seemed completely invested, following the commentator’s words as though the creature’s appearance had been planned from the beginning.

"AND WITH THEIR FINAL BREATH, THEY RELEASED THEIR SACRED GUARDIAN TO TAKE VENGEANCE UPON THE MEN WHO HAD DESTROYED THEM!"

Kael looked toward the gates through which the Imperial soldiers had fled, then back at Akrab. He almost admired how quickly the announcer had produced a reason for putting a giant scorpion in the arena. Almost.

"So because I defeated the fake Empire, the fake survivors summoned their fake sacred guardian to avenge themselves."

The system notification changed before he could decide whether any part of that explanation actually made sense. This time, a title appeared, and Kael’s expression hardened as he read it.

[The One Who Stands Where Others Flee]

The name carried a different weight from the silence associated with his previous Patron. It made him think of standing at the edge of something dangerous, feeling every sensible instinct demand that he retreat, and choosing to remain anyway. Given what had just crawled into the arena, the implication was not particularly subtle.

[The One Who Stands Where Others Flee has observed your progress.]

[The One Who Stands Where Others Flee has spent Causality.]

[The Fifth Trial has been altered.]

So this was another one. Ulsal had apparently acquired competition in the business of making Kael’s life difficult. Knowing that a different divine being was responsible should have been comforting, but Kael struggled to appreciate the distinction while Akrab’s stingers dripped onto the ground.

[The One Who Stands Where Others Flee wishes to test whether your courage remains when victory is uncertain.]

Prove your worth and value to the one who challenges fate itself.

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"There is something fundamentally irritating about powerful beings testing courage from somewhere they cannot be stabbed or punched in the face..."