The man’s assault was like a child with a knife, but even a child can draw blood.
The blade cut into the Wanderer’s skin again and again, opening shallow wounds across his chest and arms. With every cut, the Spiral sensed the opening, flooding his mana circles with raw mana he didn't ask for. The Wanderer’s hollow expression began to twist into dark amusement with the surge of mana.
The man began to breathe heavily, his arms trembling as he struggled to keep the blade leveled.
The Wanderer finally caught the man’s wrist, leaning in close, with an ear-to-ear grin.
"I think you hit your limit, didn't you?" he whispered.
The man’s face reverted back to his terrified mask.
Using the man’s own weight to stabilize himself, the Wanderer snapped a kick into the left knee and followed with a crushing heel to the right in a single motion. The man hit the sand. The Wanderer dropped onto him, pinning the man’s chest with one knee and his weapon arm with the other.
Then launched frenzied punches to his face.
The man tried to shield himself with his free arm, but in the frenzy, the Wanderer’s fist snapped the forearm, he lost himself in the hot spray of blood until the man’s eyes rolled back and his body went limp.
The Wanderer threw his head back, letting out a primal scream. The crowd began chanting: "FINISH HIM! FINISH HIM!
Adilan’s voice boomed through the stone, asserting the demand. "FINISH HIM!"
Amidst the chaos, Kuma appeared on his left. "You have enough blood on your hands, brother. Stop."
On his right, the Warden persona appeared, eyes glowing with the Spiral’s blue light. "Do it! The Spiral hungers for more! Let it guide you to the end!"
The Wanderer let out something between a howl and laughter. Then drove his fist into the man's face again and again in madness. Kuma’s image flickered and vanished, while the persona echoed his laughter.
The man’s skull was like a bowl of gory soup.
The Wanderer stood up, the Spiral screaming in his chest for more. He pointed his blood-soaked hand at the stands. "MORE!" he shouted. "BRING ME MORE!"
The crowd took up the cry, thousands of voices screaming in unison: "MORE! MORE! MORE!"
"We will bring you more!" Adilan shouted into the stone. "The next fight will start immediately! But if you want to see the Hero of Draemir truly crush skulls, we will plan a grand event! A slaughter for the ages!"
The arena erupted. Adilan climbed down into the pit, cautiously approaching the Wanderer, he reached out to raise the Wanderer’s hand in victory, but the Wanderer’s fingers clamped around Adilan’s wrist.
"Who’s next?" the Wanderer demanded.
Adilan leaned in and whispered in hesitation, "Calm down now. The day must go as planned. But I’ll get you more... I swear it."
He guided the Wanderer back toward the dark corridor, exhaling relief as the mage's grip loosened. "You were amazing today," Adilan said, his voice returning to its businessman tone. "I'll get you that cure right away. You earned it."
The Wanderer stopped, asked in confusion. "Cure? What for?"
He looked at the black patches on his arm covered in blood, licked the blood off of it smiling. "I’m okay. I’m more than okay. I’m perfect."
He turned and walked toward his cell, his laughter echoing down the hallway and leaving Adilan standing alone in confusion.
The Wanderer spent the rest of the day in a fever dream of his own making, shifting between hysterical laughter and angry punches to the wall. Exhaustion finally claimed him, the good part he stopped seeing dead people, his mind was too fractured to manifest hallucinations.
He woke to dizziness, barely managed to crawl to the corner before vomiting rubbery gulps that didn't look like food, leaving him shaking against the wall.
He thought of the monks, the lavender, and the desperate hope he’d once held to remain "human." He let out a heavy breath. "Time to let go," he whispered to himself, then stood and walked into the hall outside. He snatched a loaf of bread from a startled fighter, shoving the whole thing into his mouth, then grabbed a bowl of broth from another, gulping the hot liquid until it ran down his chin and stained his shirt. They didn't stop him, maybe fear, maybe confusion, it didn't matter.
He marched straight for the pit. Adilan was already there, looking over some ledgers. He jumped as the Wanderer appeared.
"I’ve prepared a masterpiece for you tonight," Adilan said, trying to regain his composure. "A magical knight from the borderlands. A real seeker of glory. The crowd will pay double."
"When?" the Wanderer rasped.
"At nightfall. The peak of the…"
"No," the Wanderer interrupted, with bored eyes. "I need a punching bag now."
Adilan hesitated, glancing at the empty stands. "The crowds aren't here yet. I’ll lose money."
"Then find me something to kill!" the Wanderer roared.
Terrified, Adilan stumbled backward. "Ok! Ok! I’ll send in the war beasts. Just... stay in the pit!" He scrambled away, shouting for the handlers.
The Wanderer moved towards the pit. As Adilan reached the safety of the stands, he looked back. "And that knight!" the Wanderer shouted. "Tell him to bring a friend. One won't be enough to cut it."
"Release the beasts!" Adilan’s voice echoed through the empty arena.
From the north gate, a tiger the size of a carriage lunged out, its fur glowing. From the south, a giant black-widow spider crawled silently up the wall, its eight eyes fixed on the man in the center.
The Wanderer flared his mana, the air around him distorting with the sudden pressure. He dashed toward the tiger. The leaped high, its massive shadow eclipsing the sun for a brief moment. As it sailed overhead, it opened its jaw, and the Wanderer felt the mana in the air being sucked into the creature's throat.
He landed, skidding in the sand, a manic grin across his face. He looked up at Adilan and the few guards watching from the shade. "Magical creatures?" he laughed. "This is fun!"
"Hopefully they’ll be satisfied!" Adilan shouted back, gulping wine.
"Boss, those are rare," a guard whispered. "Why waste them on a practice run?"
"Anything for our hero!" Adilan barked.
The spider saw its opening. It fired a thick web toward the Wanderer’s blind side. He tried to incinerate the strands mid-air with a burst of fire, but the web absorbed the magic, growing tougher. The silk engulfed him, pinning his arm to his side and dragging him toward the spider's fangs.
He roared, deconstructing the web, reassembling it into a massive boulder, dropping it directly over the spider.
The arachnid leaped avoiding it, the rock shattering against the arena floor. The tiger struck from behind, its claws raking across the Wanderer’s back. He tried to pivot, but the missing weight of his arm sent his balance spiraling. He hit the sand hard, his face pressed into the grit.
He stayed there for a second, the beasts closing in from both sides. A spark of madness flickered in his mind, a realization he’d been trying to fight like a man with two arms who happened to lose one.
leaned into the missing limb, letting his body tilt until he was nearly parallel to the ground. Using his one hand to guide and the uneven weight of his torso as an anchor, he whipped his body into a violent, diagonal spin.
He moved like a man spinning a flail around his body. As the tiger lunged, the Wanderer swung through the arc, the edge of his hand slamming onto the beast's skull.
The impact sounded like a sledgehammer hitting a stone. The tiger’s head snapped down, its chin hit the sand as it collapsed from the sheer kinetic force.
The Wanderer landed in a crouch, a breathless, manic laugh tearing from his throat. "Unexpected, isn't it?" he shouted, his eyes darting to the stands. "Hey, Adilan! Throw me a sword!"
Adilan, eyes wide and leaning over the railing, snapped his fingers at a nearby guard. "Give it to him! Give it to him now!"
The guard unsheathed his longsword and tossed it into the pit. The Wanderer caught the hilt mid-air.
The tiger shook its head, growling as it scrambled back to its feet. He threw himself into another spin, he came in low, the sword slashed the tiger’s front leg with the momentum of his rotating body.
The beast roared in agony, lifting its leg up. Then lunged, but the Wanderer leaned into his empty side, tilting at an impossible angle for a full human. The tiger’s claws whistled through the air inches above his chest, hitting nothing but empty space.
The beast skidded past him, planted its three good legs and opened its mouth wide, as a massive sphere of raw mana condensed between its fangs.
Above him, the spider had woven a thick wall of webs across the exit path and was now dropping from the arena ceiling directly toward the Wanderer’s head, its fangs dripping with venom.
Caught between a magical blast and a falling predator, the Wanderer tightened his grip on the sword, his mana circles grinding together in a high-pitched scream.
"That's it!" he howled, the black patches on his arm stinging in pain.