The Wanderer spun magic around himself like an infinite thread unraveling around a peg-top.
The tiger unleashed the ray of absolute mana. The Wanderer leaned into the curve of his own momentum, the rotation of his mana acting like a gravitational lens that bent the beam around his torso. The spider, dropping from above, was caught in the centrifugal pull of his vortex. Its front legs snapped, barely managing to anchor a strand and retreat to its webbed wall.
The Wanderer redirected the gathered energy back at the tiger, but the beast was fast, leaping wide as the sand detonated behind it. The force of the rotation left the Wanderer dazed; his head swam, and he hit the ground laughing.
"Come on!" he roared, springing back up, taunting the tiger with his blade.
The tiger’s fur ignited further. It began to run, a blur of gold light circling the Wanderer.
"A spinning contest?" the Wanderer shouted, his eyes widely excited.
He threw himself into his own rotation. The two rings of energy collided in the center of the pit like grinding gears. Sparks of magic showered the arena. When the kinetic energy finally hit its breaking point, both were thrown back.
The tiger collapsed, its hide a map of diagonal slashes. The Wanderer skidded across the sand, three parallel cuts torn across his torso and back, his shirt shredded and soaked in red. He stood up, swaying, and saw the giant spider gathering a green mana around its abdomen.
The tiger lunged one last time, a straight-line this time. The Wanderer leaned into his missing arm, using the weight of his sword to pivot his entire body like a pendulum. He unleashed a half-circle slash from the dirt up, followed instantly by a lateral strike. The trajectory was a mess of looping paths of the blade.
The tiger’s front legs gave out, the tendons severed. As it fell, the Wanderer jumped, tucking his body into a horizontal spin. He became a living saw blade, shredding through the beast's back before his own momentum dragged him across the pit, leaving a narrow trench in the sand until he finally stopped.
"Magnificent!" Adilan screamed from the stands, his knuckles gripping the railing. "A suicidal technique! The crowds will lose their minds!"
The Wanderer lay flat, his chest heaving, staring at the pale sun. Then, he felt a crawling sensation. He thought it was exhaustion at first, but a sting on his ankle jolted him upright. He looked down to see dozens of small spiders swarming up his boots.
He looked up at the giant spider on the wall and laughed. "Sending your spawn to do the dirty work? Skida would be proud of you!"
He shook his legs, squishing the ones that clung to him, but thousands of spiders flooded the pit, a carpet of chittering legs and glistening eyes. Within seconds, they swarmed over him. He could only see the abdomen of the legged arachnid blocking his vision, and the stings across his body.
The center of the swarm pulsed, then, a shockwave of raw mana exploded from the Wanderer, vaporizing the nearest spiders and throwing the rest into the air. He began to spin magic around him once more, moving across the arena, gathering the living swarm into a swirling mass of legs and silk.
He stopped directly beneath the giant spider, deconstructing the smaller spiders, reassembled them mid-air into a massive globe of displaced organs, which he slammed back into the big spider’s face.
The spider let out a shriek, a sound that shouldn't have been possible for an insect. The Wanderer jumped, his legs wrapping around its massive head. The spider’s fangs snapped at his dangling torso, trying to catch him, but he lunged forward, biting with his own teeth into the fang. The creature's venom spraying across his face and filling his mouth.
He reached into the open wound, his fingers glowing. He conjured dozens of razors directly into the spider's open wound.
The spider shook its head left and right trying to shake him off. The Wanderer growled, the spider's venom pulsing in his veins beneath the skin.
The spider exploded, covering the arena with its entrails, as the Wanderer fell to the ground, shaking.
The cry of "Get a doctor now!" echoed in the Wanderer’s ears. Adilan scrambled down the stands, towards the Wanderer. He knelt, hovering his hands over the man, afraid to touch him. "Can you hear me? Speak to me!"
The Wanderer sat up in a violent spasm, his body shook as he coughed. A thick, rubbery glop of neon-green spider venom and bile forced its way out of his throat, splashing onto the sand between his knees. He wiped his chin, his mouth dripping with the toxic slurry.
Adilan’s eyes widened, seeing the size of the venom. "What the hell are you?"
The Wanderer slumped back into the dirt, his chest heaving, then chuckled. "The Spiral... rewards violence handsomely."
"Your spinning technique?" Adilan asked. "Is that what you call it?"
The Wanderer laughed at the man's ignorance. He stood up swaying, falling to the ground every few steps, he laughed louder with each fall until he finally crawled back to his cell.
He slept for twenty-four hours, the world outside continuing without him. He missed his scheduled matches, but Adilan didn't care to punish him.
The next morning, the same rubbery, blackened gulp forced itself out of his throat. He stared at it on the stone floor, he began to think the Spiral is changing him from the inside out. But he already became addicted to pain and the ecstasy of the power surge that followed.
The weeks blurred into a cycle of slaughter and sickness. He mastered the physics of his broken body, turning his missing limb into a tactical advantage. The black spots of the mana poisoning spread across his torso and neck. Adilan offered the cure a few times before giving up.
News drifted into the pits, Skida had marched again. Another city, another name the Wanderer didn't bother to remember. He only cared about the pit.
Today was the "Iron Man Tournament." A gauntlet of one-on-one fights until only one man remained standing.
The Wanderer stood in the dark corridor, his adrenaline caused his single hand to twitch anticipating violence.
Adilan stepped into the shadows beside him, his voice low. "Look, I know you enjoy your fights to end in red. But today... today you’re facing the best. Real warriors. Some of them have families, some are favorites. Try to spare a few lives if they yield. It’s better for the long-term betting."
The Wanderer kept his gaze fixated on the arena’s sand.
"No promises."