Chapter 368

"Can I look now, papa?" Layali asked, her eyes were still concealed by Brain's hands, but she stood with barely concealed patience, her fingers over his thumb, trying in futility to move his hands aside.

"Not yet." Brain said, "When your mama gets back." He answered, and though he could feel her pout, he only pursed his lips and waited patiently while the runners shoveled the remnants of the 'elf peasant' onto the wooden sled and hauled it away.

All that remained of the former elf King was bloody sand that other fighters would step on and scatter around, or wash off their bodies and down the drains in the baths of the arena's undercroft.

When Zesshi returned, Brain removed his hands from Layali's eyes. "Very impressive." He said, "Were you always that strong?" He asked her and silently thanked the gods he did not believe in, that her kick to his ribs had not exploded his body.

"No." She frowned, "It's like… it was like opening up my potential, I think… I think I tasted what my peak could be like. It was definitely me, but me… unlocked." She said in a reverential whisper.

She turned her thoughts back to the morning's events and watched as the next matches unfolded, a large, brown, armored troll entered the arena, on his shoulder he carried a great club the size of a tree and with a single solid iron ball at the head, a grip made with so much leather it had to have taken up the skin of an entire cow.

He shook the ground around him as he walked, "Troll Prince, Gaka!" The troll announced himself, and clad in scale armor over his arms and torso, and with a metal 'skirt' of banded bars hanging down around his legs secured to a metal belt that went up to his bellybutton, it was hard to doubt his title.

The trolls in the audience cheered as his opponent entered the arena.

A ligerman, broad and white furred, great jaws open to show off that his teeth were capped with jagged metal above and below. His tail lashed at his back, across his chest he wore a breastplate of white, and to his thighs were strapped interlocking greaves through which bits of fur still stuck. His mane bunched around his head, and though he towered half again over any human and was twice as broad, he was only two thirds the height or width of the troll Prince. "Razen'mah! Devorian Champion, cousin of Timnah, champion of the Tlalmok!"

The handful of bejeweled beastmen in the crowd cheered their champion, and glared at the trolls, who glared back with the same ferocity. The Troll Prince raised his club above his head, and the ligerman raised both his fists, their roars drowned out the cheers of the crowd.

They paced themselves at a distance, and when the signal came, they charged at one another. The ligerman was clearly a monk, while the troll clearly a paladin and the two began throwing martial arts back and forth. The troll proved quicker than should have been possible, rolling away from the ligerman's thick fists and slashing claws, and charging in, arms pumping back and forth to leap toward the ligerman.

Razen'mah, unable to escape fast enough, brought up both his hands and caught the mace before it could connect, and sand blew up in such a quantity that it was impossible for anyone not up high to see the clash which followed.

But it could be heard. "Gwaaaaaaahhhh!" The shouted chorus might have been a duet of music as the two clashed in perfect harmony, the Troll Prince used 'smite' again and again, only for the monk to use his 'tranquility of water' to avoid each blow and create great gaps, holes, in the sand from the force of the scattering blows.

Razen'mah's fists came for the areas exposed by the armor, forcing Gaka on the defensive where it was hardest… down below. His metal armored 'skirt' good for swings but bad against jabs, as soon as the first blow connected and the Prince brought back his wounded thigh, the struggle began to change.

The troll Prince, for perhaps the first time in his life, faced an opponent that was too fast for himself and could pierce his thick hide, worse, his great height worked against him, he had to bring his club down farther and faster, and the ligerman had plenty of time to avoid blows and come back in again.

The crowd was on its feet, roaring and cheering, human, elf, dwarf, orc, nobody cared anymore, it was the bloodlust and vigor of battle and it was on every head young and old as the champions struggled to find a way to overcome the other.

The two finally split with the ligerman springing back out of reach of what might have proved a killing blow, and the troll was slow to raise his club.

The two were breathing hard, chests rising and falling, gulping air and their bodies shaking with the tension, sweat was dripping down the thick troll hide.

The mace did not continue to rise, and Razen'mah did not charge in. It was a brief, unspoken truce. "Trolls can fight like beastmen." Razen'mah breathed out.

"Beastmen can fight like trolls." Gaka answered back.

"Ready?" Razen'mah asked and rose up.

Gaka nodded and raised his club the rest of the way. "To the end this time." He suggested.

"Yes." Razen'mah answered, and the pair charged again, a bellowing roar of warriors brought the pair close, and the seemingly wild blows began again, the ligerman monk's blows seemed at last to slow just a hair, and in that moment, Gaka did the unexpected.

He used his free hand to grab Razen'mah's mane and haul the ligerman off his feet, his mace coming up and ready for the killing blow.

Then Razen did the unexpected, he swung himself up to the arm which held him, locked his legs around the bicep, and arched himself, snapping the arm at the elbow.

Gaka howled and lost his grip, and Razen'mah dropped, crouched, and jumped to the staggering giant troll. His jaw closed over the troll Prince's face, and he bit down. The thick skull cracked, and the Troll Prince fell limp. Razen'mah raised his fists and roared as red blood dripped from his teeth before he pointed to the limp form.

"He lives. He will fight again." Razen'mah said, and the roar of the crowd redoubled as they found a favorite.

When Razen'mah was gone, and the crowd had gone silent, and when the Troll Prince was healed before he limped away in defeat, it was a human who entered the arena.

"Gustav Montagne of the Roble Holy Kingdom!" The head of the Paladin Order raised his sword as he entered, and cheers went up, the light glinted off of his white and blue armor, his broad body and perfect stance made him appear the epitome of paladin ideals. But within, he could only feel his heart pound. 'A good showing to restore our dignity as a nation, that is all we need.' He told himself, and sheathed his blade when the roar of the crowd faded.

And his opponent entered after, "Cerebrate! Man of no country!" The knight shouted his name, but Brain didn't need to hear it, neither did Layali.

She wet herself immediately and began to cry, "Mama… papa… don't let him get me… please don't let him see me… please don't let master get me again…" She whimpered and blubbered and rushed to hide behind Brain and Zesshi.

"That's him, is it?" Zesshi asked with gritted teeth, her hand went behind Brain to stroke Layali's back. "Don't worry, he won't survive much longer. He won't. We won't let him. He'll never touch you again."

"No, he won't." Brain crossed his arms and glared at the knight, "He dies today." He squared himself in front of the little half elf who wept into his back.