Chapter 14 – Three on Three

The three hobs that emerged from the portal and were currently charging as one conjoined unit across the arena sands at Titus and his friends were a respectable level fifteen apiece. It was above what the group had been expecting, given the new rules of the Arena and it made Titus wonder what exactly would’ve come through if the portals hadn’t been tampered with.

Hobgoblin Warrior

Level: 15

HP: 2,000/2,000

The three hobs had matching stats, arms, and armour. Carrying large, curved swords that almost looked like they’d been crafted by someone who knew what they were doing, what they lacked in finesse they made up for with their imposing presence.

Taller than any hobs Titus had seen before and with even darker, reddened skin, these hobs didn’t look like they had any worries about facing off against Titus and his friends. In fact, if anything, they seemed to have confident grins plastered across all three of their faces as they ran menacingly towards their targets.

The hobs still wore leather armour like the others Titus had seen, and he pondered where they might be getting their hands on such equipment.

These kinds of questions could be answered later though, because Titus felt a large, strong hand on his shoulder pushing him back and away from the onrushing monsters.

“You know the plan, get to the back,” Jordan growled.

“This isn’t the time for that,” Titus replied, coming closer to Jordan to object, but the side-eye that his friend gave him left no room for discussion.

Then the hobs were on them.

Jordan raised his tattered old wooden shield just in time for the first hob’s sword to crash into it with a deafening thud. Splinters sprayed off the shield, but somehow it managed to cling to its structure.

BOOM!

Jordan immediately cast his Shield Bash ability and sent the hobs flying back from him. It was like their larger size or perhaps their momentum sent them even further back than was normal for the ability, though as soon as they hit the ground they practically sprang back to their feet, shaking the sand from their bodies. And then they were moving again.

Out of nowhere, three knives flew through the air like arrow tips and impacted the neck and side of the leftmost hob, which didn’t convey even an iota of pain as it pulled the weapons from itself and discarded them onto the ground with an angry sneer.

Titus checked on the hob to see that it had indeed been poisoned and that Petra’s knives had done over two hundred points of damage.

These numbers were good, and the opening bout had certainly gone to the Contestants, but Titus knew this fight only had one direction to go in. That was, of course, until he joined in with his own firepower. Literally.

Titus’ Mana had managed to fill to a respectable twenty-four points through a combination of his natural regeneration and his new Elderwood Spear’s effect. With the seventy points he had circling around himself, he decided to push around a third of his total into the opening fireball, just so that if it was enough to fell one of the creatures, he knew he could do it twice more.

Thirty-one points of Mana left Titus and flowed through his body like an avalanche, and a second later, the fireball left the space between his open palm and burst forth from the tip of his new spear.

A deep orange fiery, chaotic mass of flames and heat the size of a person careened across the arena and bridged the short gap between Titus and the rightmost hob a moment later.

The fireball didn’t explode or even splash away like Titus had seen happen before; this time the flames engulfed the hob entirely like it was a cocoon of fire and death.

The hob stood no chance.

The blaze that seemed to destroy the creature only lasted a few moments, but when it was gone, all that was left on the ground where the hob had been was a charred, blackened corpse without even a single point of health left to its name.

The two remaining hobs didn’t even flinch and as one, they turned their attention to Titus as he was clearly the largest threat in this battle.

Titus’ eyes bulged at the sight of the two hobs now lurching towards him, and he immediately threw his Mana into a second fireball, taking down the rightmost hob just like the first a moment before the creature reached him with its outstretched knife.

And then in that moment, Titus realised why a piece of equipment with the ability to reduce spellcasting time would be very useful indeed.

Because he didn’t have the time to cast a third spell before the last hob reached him.

A mixture of murder and anger filling its eyes, the hob thrust its sword forward at Titus’ face.

Titus closed his eyes on instinct, awaiting the pain and final blow.

But it didn’t arrive.

Opening his eyes again, he saw that Jordan had managed to root the hob in place with his new skill, and Petra had leapt into range with her stiletto, stabbing the creature over and over, causing its blood to spray out, covering her like it was a malfunctioning fountain.

“Now, Titus! NOW!” Jordan urged as the spell wore off, and Titus channelled the last of his Mana into the spell that would end the battle for them.

The hob didn’t even howl as he was overtaken by the heat and the flames, though both Jordan and Petra were thrown back by the sheer might of the attack.

Before the hob had even died and the battle was over, Titus checked that both of his friends were okay, and save for a handful of Health Points and a few singed hairs, he exhaled in relief as he realised he hadn’t caused them any real harm. The thought was there, though, that if he wasn’t careful with how close his friends were to their enemies, he really could harm them.

“That was a close call,” Petra said, panting. “I guess you aren’t all-powerful after all.”

“Or it’s just proof that you can’t do this alone,” Jordan interrupted. “I guess the God of Balance was right; you do need us.”

Titus smiled; he’d never doubted that he needed his friends. No matter how strong he became, he would never forget that facing a group of enemies alone was never his preference. However, he didn’t get a chance to respond as Valeri’s booming voice cut through the cheers and whoops of the crowd, revelling in the victory of Titus’ small team.

“Ladies and gentlemen, wasn’t that something to behold! A team of only three blue-rank Contestants stood toe to toe with three high ranked beings of chaos! And of course, there is something to be said for ending the lives of these monsters quickly. However,” he added pointedly, “let us remember that the Arena is not only a place of battle to make this city safer; it is also a place of entertainment. While quick battles may be efficient, longer and more exciting bouts are what will bring the people to the stands to watch as the Contestants perform their duty.”

Petra took a large step forward, her face flushed with anger but before she could speak, Jordan placed a large hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him and he simply shook his head. This was neither the time nor the place to challenge the new Grandmaster, even if he was the worst of the worst.

“I don’t believe it,” Petra muttered, loud enough for Titus and Jordan to hear. “I can’t believe he can take a victory and turn it into a negative like that. Is that really how he’s supposed to act?”

“No, it really isn’t,” Jordan agreed. “But we aren’t going to fight him here, not now, not in front of all these people. We are Contestants of the Arena, Petra, and that means we have to act a certain way, even if we don’t like it.”

“Screw you, Jordan,” Petra hissed. “And screw this place.”

Then Petra stormed off the sands and back to the prep room beyond the iron gate, where she dumped her equipment into the Anywhere Box and disappeared down the hallway.

“She’s going to get us thrown out if she keeps acting like that,” Jordan said as he and Titus followed Petra, maintaining some distance. “There are just some things you can’t…”

“She’s right, though, isn’t she, Jordan? Between Valeri and the God of Balance, we’re likely to die here. As much as everyone keeps telling us that’s not the end goal, if things like this keep happening, we’re going to die, and there won’t be anyone to save us.”

“I don’t think the…” Jordan started to say, but Titus interrupted him.

“Just look at what’s happening,” he pressed. “We have to fight stronger monsters in bigger groups. If we don’t turn up, we get punished by the God of Balance, but then others don’t turn up, so we’re forced into battle alone. How many times do you think we’re going to get lucky in these kinds of situations?”

“But did you see the portal?” Jordan objected.

“I saw it,” Titus said. “And I don’t have any idea what it means. For all I know, that’s just something that normally happens.”

“Or it could have been the God of Balance himself, evening the odds. You know we’ve fought those things before. You know we know how to beat them. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

Titus slowly shook his head from side to side. “I don’t know if anything means anything anymore. But this can’t keep happening…”

“What choice…?”

“Did you see the look on Petra’s face?” Titus asked. “She was angry, yes, but do you know why? She’s scared, Jordan. We all are, I’m sure, but every time we take to those sands and face worse and worse odds, trying to gain a little bit of experience so that we can face even greater dangers, we edge that little bit closer to death. At some point, like so many others have already, we are going to die.”

Titus could have argued that the God of Balance would never let that happen to his champion and protectors, but they both knew it was an argument not founded in fact but in supposition, hope, and faith.

The pair remained silent as they replaced their own arms and armour in the Anywhere Box. The silence was welcome, allowing them both to calm down. When they were ready to leave, Titus spoke again.

“We need to find Petra,” he said. “I don’t think she’s in any danger, but she was very upset.”

Jordan nodded silently in agreement, and the pair set off down the hallways to follow Petra. In reality, there were only a few places she might have gone: the dining hall, the training pits, a classroom, or their dorm. Jordan and Titus checked all these places, but it wasn’t until they reached the dorm room that they found Petra sitting on the end of her bed, sobbing into her hands.

Jordan and Titus immediately sat down on either side of her and placed caring arms around her shoulders.

“It will be alright, Petra,” Titus said. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? I don’t think the God of Balance would want us to go through all of this just to let us die out there in the arena against some insignificant opponents.”

Petra didn’t look up from her hands.

“Besides,” Jordan added, “he’s the Champion of Balance isn’t he? It wouldn’t be very balanced for the God to just let him die against three overpowered hobs.”

This time Petra removed her hands from her face, and Titus could see that something Jordan had said had struck a nerve.

“That’s not what I’m upset about, you colossal twit,” the Rogue said. “He’ll be alright. I have no doubt about it, like you said, he’s the champion of a God. But then where does that leave us? We are expendable, Jordan, and that means if and when push comes to shove, if someone has to die, it isn’t going to be him. It’s going to be me and you.”

“I’m not going to let that happen…” Titus began, but Petra interrupted him.

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to stop it? You’re going to throw yourself at everything that ever comes near us? Because you saw how that worked out in the last fight. You have an overpowered spell, and yeah, it’s impressive and all, but again, we saw your weakness out there. And I don’t mean to sound harsh, but that weakness is going to get us all killed. And when I say ‘all’, I mean me and him,” she nodded towards Jordan. “You’re going to survive, and we’re going to die.”

“You’re not going to…”

“Then let’s do something about it,” Jordan said. “Let’s go and talk to the Grandmaster and see if that idiot sees sense.”

“He’s not going to see sense,” Petra said. “Even you can see what’s going on around here, can’t you? If Valeri was going to see any kind of sense, he’d have put a stop to this already.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t try,” Jordan said. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, at least we can say we tried. And that’s all you can do.”

“And if not,” Titus said with a sheepish grin, “you can always poison his tea and hope that the next Grandmaster is more amenable to your suggestions.”

Petra slowly turned to face Titus, not quite believing what she had just heard. Then she saw his idiotic grin and finally her demeanour broke and she could’ve help but smile herself.

“I hate you, you know that, don’t you? Both of you. And if I ever find myself going down, I’m taking you both with me. I swear to the God of Balance.”

“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Titus replied. “Now, what do you think? Wait until the morning to go and see the Grandmaster? We could go now, but…”

It was obvious that Titus was suggesting they shouldn’t go and see the Grandmaster immediately, given their heightened emotional state and Petra’s red, bloodshot eyes from all the crying. Petra nodded once at the suggestion.

“I mean it,” she said. “You want to keep me safe, or else you’re next.”

The group spent a small amount of time exchanging friendly banter. It was relaxing and very much needed for the three to remember that they were, above all, friends and not just three Contestants forced to repeatedly fight together.

Eventually, as all three began yawning, they acknowledged that rest was what they needed more than anything else at the moment. They had fought in two battles, one after the other, and if they were to do the same thing again they would need some sleep. Besides, the upcoming battle with Grandmaster Valeri would require them to be at their best if they wanted any kind of positive outcome.

One by one, Titus, Jordan, and Petra fell asleep in their beds, the day’s events firmly behind them.

That was, of course, until some hours later when Titus awoke to find a level fifteen Spectral Harbinger sucking the soul from Jordan as he lay asleep, and a second and third ethereal creature phasing through their closed door.