Exiting the tower as a cat, I find a grimacing [Tanner] with a runed cleaver kneeling beside Hellion’s corpse. The man is systematically removing the leather without removing the scales. Near him, a man who looks like a [Gladiator] watches him work with hands crossed on his chest. Both men are thankfully not looking at the direction of the tower, allowing me to sneak past. As I do, I listen in on their conversations.
With a careful hand, the cleaver slices in-between meat and skin, severing with barely a centimeter. When he cleaves through once, the level forty-nine [Monster Tanner] takes a breath. “This would be a lot easier in my shop.” He grumbles. “Much easier. I hope whoever executed Hellion gets punished.”
The [Gladiator] shrugs. “Don't worry, whoever did it is going to get in trouble. You should just focus on getting the skin ready.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll try, just know the quality won’t be as good. Too much time has passed since Hellion died.”
“I’m sure the [Governor] knows. Probably why they plan to make armor for the tournament champion.”
The [Monster Tanner] pauses. “I said it won’t be as good, but the skin can still support Exceptional quality of runes. Maybe even Epic quality if the [Runesmith] uses a blue core.”
The [Gladiator] raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t even know Leather armor can get to Exceptional Quality.”
“They can, it’s just far more expensive because the materials are harder to obtain and the [Runesmiths] experienced with work on leather are harder to find.”
The two continue talking more, but I’ve already snuck past them. Now, I move through the internal halls of the Colosseum. Very large, spiraling halls with nary a way to know where I’m supposed to go. The only thing I can do is walk in the general direction away from the beasts.
It is only when I get far from the beasts do I smell the scent of humans, the taste of meat, and the sound of a conspiracy from a nearby room. A room that I just so happen to hear a familiar name.
“Boriss, eh? Odd name. Is he really that strong, Stavros?”
Leaning into the room, I notice two men. Powerful men with impressive physiques. One looks at his prime while the other is old. Not old in the sense of frail and skinny. Old like a bodybuilder that never allowed his muscles to decrease. A focused stare reveals to me what I’m looking at.
“I’ve seen his fights today. Strong would be an understatement. He’s easily going to make it to the finals.”
“Which is where I come in. You want me to take him down before then, right?” Garvey asks.
“No.” Stavros shakes his head. “You’re going to defeat him in the finals. You’ll win your fight in the next round, but you’ll make it look like you barely won and that you struggled. We’ll make sure your opponents are also weak to make it more convincing.”
“Everyone will bet on Boriss to win.” Garvey says.
“And Gladius will bet on you. Now,” Stavros reaches into his pocket and produces a Jeweled armband. “You’ll wear this under your armor.”
“We’ve already tuned it to the [Gladiator] you will be replacing and the [Mirage Mage] is on standby to cast before the tournament begins.”
Garvey accepts the armband like one would a national treasure. Which, considering the rarity, it very likely is.
“Know that this armband's existence is an absolute secret. Nobody is to know of it, including what is going on. If anyone finds out, you will be executed.”
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Garvey's acceptance of the artifact shifts from reverence to one of fear.
“I won’t fail you.” He promises.
“Good.” Stavros turns to exit the room, only to find a cat peaking by the doorway.
“Meowww.” I say before turning away and running off.
Stavros frowns at the doorway for a long moment.
“Sir, is there something wrong?” Garvey asks
Stavros shakes his head. “Nothing, just seeing that cat reminded me of when I fought Chimeras.”
“From a cat?”
Stavros nods, still staring at the doorway. “Do you know that vibe that Lions and Chimeras give when they’re hunting you? That cat was giving me the same feeling.”
“Must be hunting a mouse.”
Stavros frowns at Garvey. “We have mice?”
________________________________________________________
Running away with my heart pounding, I turn several corners before allowing myself to finally slow down.
Once my heart settles down, I traverse the hallways again until my nostrils take a whiff of a familiar smell accompanied by roses.
Well, that’s interesting.
Following the scent to a slightly open room. I squeeze inside to find Boriss snoozing naked in a tub filled with war water, bubbles, and rose-petals. Next to the tub is a table filled with cuts of meat, cheese, and fruits.
“You’re looking relaxed.” I say as I approach. I hop to the table and steal a piece of meat.
Boriss opens one eye in my direction- face still smiling in bliss. “Comrade Fluffy, you are victorious, yes?”
“Yup, the tower is conquered. It seems like you won your match as well.”
“Da, vas easy. Like wrestling vith drunken goat.”
“Did I ever mention that your sayings make little sense?”
“Vhat?” Boriss pouts. “Vhen you fight drunken goat, is easy fight, yes? Drunken goat vhil fight tree because tree moves. Tree always vins.”
I sigh and snort. “Well, if you win your next matches, your final opponent isn’t going to be a goat, and neither will they be drunk. Looks like we’re going to be dealing with someone of a much higher level than you.”
“I am still twenty-four. Everyone is bigger level,” Boriss says.
Oh… damn. That’s not good. Well, it's probably good for Cillian, but it makes Boriss’s fight riskier.
“No, your final opponent is going to be much higher. Gladius is going to cheat and have you fight an opponent with a level of at least forty-nine. My guess is that the guy’s class is even higher than that.”
Boriss leans forward with a disappointing frown, “Cheating is not right.”
“Nope, but I’ll see if I can do something to even the odds. In the meantime, just focus on your fights tomorrow.”
Boriss nods and leans back into the tub.
As I turn to leave, I pause for a moment to ask.
“By the way, did Gino win?”
“No, Comrade Gino vhas defeated.”
Hopping off the table, I glance one more time at Boriss before I leave the room.
________________________________________________
The moment I sneak out of the Colosseum is the moment I realize that I’d been in the tower for far longer than I’d realized. Even so, Gladius is lively at night, with bright lights both of flame and of magic illuminate the streets.
The thought of descending down to the Undercrust rises, only for it to be squashed with a sigh.
“Best to let the kid mope a bit. I’ll check on him tomorrow.”
I travel back to the Timbergrove and enter inside. When I do, I find that both Myers and Gond are in the mess hall. The two are drinking and conversing over the day's events. Specifically, they speak of combat and tactics.
“Old farts bonding in the middle of the night. How am I not surprised?” I hop atop the table, startling both men.
Myers is the first to recover, “I hope you don’t mind if I invite Gond over.”
I shrug, “It’s fine.”
I glance at Gond. “Question. How well do you know the contracted [Gladiators]?”
“Decently well. I’ve fought most and trained a good number of them.”
“I see. What do you know of Garvey Embriss?”
“Garvey?” Gond raises an eyebrow. “He’s one of the few contracted experts that Gladius has.”
“Right. Do you know his level? Class? Combat style?”
Gond rubs the stubble on his neck. “He’s a [Myrmidon]- probably a low level one. No active skill that I know of, but still a dangerous opponent.”
“What’s a [Myrmidon]?” I ask.
“It's an expert variant of [Swordsman],” Myers explains. “They generally wield blade weapons- usually in the form of dueling swords.
“Garvey was never a [Swordsman]. He was a [Warrior], then [Sword Warrior], and eventually became a [Myrmidon] that specializes in longswords.”
“Less specialized,” Myers comments.
“More adaptable,” Gond corrects.
“Right, right. So Garvey is an adaptable longsword wielder. Is there anything else you can tell me about him? Do you know his skills or traits? Any weaknesses?”
Gond frowns at my questioning. “Why are you so interested in Garvey?”
“It’s complicated. Now, what do you know?”
Gond takes a sip of his drink slowly. “Honestly, Garvey is a bit of a generalist as far as I can tell. He has [Lightweight blade], [Enlarged Peripheral], [Minor Stamina Regeneration], [Sturdy Footing], and whatever skill he has as a [Myrmidon].”
“I see.” I say, and then glance at Myers.
The old fart chuckles. [Lightweight blade] halves the weight of a weapon in hand. [Enlarged Peripheral] increases peripheral sight. [Minor Stamina Regeneration] increases the speed of recovery- including during a fight. [Sturdy Footing] makes it significantly more difficult to be bothered by terrain. [Myrmidons] generally get an activatable combat skill or a very potent passive one. The skill always affects the sword in some way.
“So, Garvey has good sight, good footing, good weapon speed, good stamina, and possibly another powerful skill. That’s annoying, but workable. Thanks for the information.”
I hop off the table and leave the old men to their discussions. Instead of heading to my room, I find my way to Nepenthes room. Nepenthes is sitting and meditating, though with open eyes.
“Matriarch, do you require bloodshed?” She asks as though it is the most normal thing to expect.
“No, not now. I wanted to ask, are you able to create a drug to increase combat performance? Something strong but also doesn’t have any long-term negative effects.”
Nepenthes tilts her head. “I can make poisons to do so, but they will be ineffective on you as your body is extremely efficient at purging such toxins.”
“It’s not for me. It’s for Boriss.”
Nepenthes tilts her head. “For a human? I can have one prepared, then. When do you require it?”
“Tomorrow.”
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