Chapter 17 – Unravelling the Truth

When Titus finally awoke again, he found himself in an unfamiliar room and he had to force his eyes to open. Glancing around, he noticed nine other beds similar to the one he was lying on, and his own bed felt hard and uncomfortable. Thankfully though, Jordan was lying in the bed next to him, asleep, which brought a smile to Titus's face.

Somehow, against all odds, they had survived the harrowing ordeal they had faced. Titus had a sense that everything was going to be okay. While his health points were still low, they had started to recover during his sleep and noted that it'd reached twenty-six, indicating that around five hours had passed since he had last closed his eyes.

"It's about time," Petra's voice chirped, and Titus turned to see her lying in the bed beside him on the opposite side to Jordan.

"It's strange to watch someone sleep, Petra," Titus remarked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Petra retorted. "Next time, when you're on the brink of death, I'll just leave you alone, shall I? Instead of spending the night making sure you're okay, sleeping right next to you on these incredibly uncomfortable hospital beds?"

Titus couldn't help but smile. "I suppose we can make an exception this time."

"Hell no we won't!" Jordan groaned, having been awakened by their conversation. "We're going to talk about why you chose the bed next to him and not me."

Petra grinned. "It's because I can tolerate your snoring, just not when it's right next to my face. Titus sleeps as quietly as a baby."

Then suddenly, the door swung open, and Mr Sinclair entered, coming to a halt beside Titus's bed.

"You're awake, that's good," he said.

"You mean as opposed to not being awake?" Petra quipped.

"Indeed," Mr Sinclair replied. "Your health points are still low. Here, drink these." He handed both Titus and Jordan small glass bottles filled with red liquid, which Titus recognised as the same minor health potions he'd drank before.

They both drank, and Titus enjoyed the thick, strawberry-flavored potion both for its pleasant taste and the twenty health points it restored.

"I'll never get used to that," Titus commented.

"How are you feeling?" Mr Sinclair asked.

"I'm feeling fine, actually," Titus replied. "I had a good sleep." Then, his gaze fell to Mr Sinclair's red armband, and he remembered that his own White band had gone missing at some point during the fight. "But our health dropped to zero, and we weren't wearing our armbands. Did... did we die?"

Mr Sinclair smiled. "Ah, well, you are mistaken about that. If you take a moment to look, you will see that you are still in fact wearing your White armband."

"What?!" Titus exclaimed, inspecting his arm and confirming that the white cloth band was still securely tied around it. "But it was gone! I swear! Jordan's was gone too."

"It's true," Jordan added. "We both saw that they were gone."

"And did you not find it strange that you didn't receive any experience for your part in the fight? Have you even checked?"

Titus examined his stats to see that his experience total remained at a meagre six out of one hundred for the next level.

Mr Sinclair continued, "You were never actually in any real danger, despite what you believed. What you experienced was a loss of consciousness due to your HP reaching zero while your armband prevented your death."

Titus furrowed his brow. Had the disappearance of their armbands been another illusion created by the Spectral Harbinger? Or was something else going on?

Then he had a thought. "How does the armband work? I mean, what if our bodies were destroyed or eaten after we passed out?" He'd asked something similar before but the answer had been rather vague.

Mr Sinclair paused before answering, "If you are unfortunate enough to find yourself in such a situation... your armband would not save you. Loss of limbs and reaching zero HP are reversible, even partial decapitation. But complete destruction of the body... that is something no magical device can counteract. Not that it has ever happened before," he added quickly. "So there are some differing schools of thought on the subject."

Titus felt a shiver run down his spine. The thought of his unconscious body at the mercy of the Spectral Harbinger was unsettling, and the White armband tied around his arm suddenly felt less reassuring.

"But it unquestionably keeps you safe for the most part. You were always safe, despite your beliefs. If you were facing any other threat besides the Spectral Harbinger, it would have had the potential to destroy your body after your HP reached zero and you lost consciousness. But not the Harbinger. I must ask, though, do you know how it found its way to your dorm? Did you seek it out or bring it back for practice?"

"Why on earth would we do that!?" Titus exclaimed. "Didn't you see what happened? We nearly died!"

Mr Sinclair shook his head. "No, you didn't. You chose to fight against the one thing in this entire place that couldn't actually kill you, even if your HP dropped to zero. Anything and everything else could have destroyed your body once you had lost consciousness. You were safe at all times, as strange as that may sound."

Titus didn't feel safe at all. It was the second time he'd had to fend off a monster, and he hadn't even been officially told he was ready to fight yet. However, he had a feeling he knew who was behind this attack.

"I must also inquire if you know how this monster found its way to your dorm or why it specifically targeted you? If you did not bring it there, was it someone else's doing?"

Jordan opened his mouth to speak, but Titus interjected, "No, we have no idea how any of this happened. But we're grateful to the people who saved us."

Mr Sinclair peered down at him as if searching for a lie in his words, then eventually smiled. "I'm glad you are well. Perhaps next time, you can open the door to see who set a monster upon you. That would make our investigations easier, don't you think?"

Titus agreed, and they watched as Mr Sinclair turned and swiftly left the room.

"Why didn't you just tell him it was Henderson?" Jordan asked. "He'd be kicked out for sure, and I, for one, would be glad to see the back of him."

"Because, dummy," Petra replied, "Henderson comes from a wealthy family. Do you really think they'd expel him over this? You heard Sinclair; we weren't even in any real danger. Accusing Henderson would more likely lead to his father taking a dislike to us and if Henderson Senior is anything like his son, our families could be in trouble, if you catch my drift. Just be grateful he's focusing on us, and that this time it was harmless."

"But..." Jordan began.

"I said forget it!" Petra stated, leaving no room for further discussion.

Titus was about to reassure Jordan when the door to the hospital room swung open again, and two figures entered: a large man and a young boy. Titus recognised them both, but it took a moment to recall their names. Analysing them both helped him remember.

Darius: Level ?

Class: Warrior

Profession: Arena Contestant - Purple

The large man was the first Contestant Titus had seen upon arriving at the Arena, and that reminded him that the young boy was Jacob, the Arena Hand who had guided Titus to the entrance. However, when Titus analysed Jacob, he found no information beyond the boy's name.

"Oh, it's you!" Darius exclaimed in a booming voice as he approached Titus. "Do you remember me?" As he spoke he smiled, and it made Titus smile too.

Titus nodded. "You're Darius, right?" He didn't need to ask after analysing the Warrior, though he thought it would be polite to do so. "And Jacob?"

Jacob gave a nervous nod, and Darius' smile widened. "Great! I've been sent to collect the three of you for the showcase. I assume you've recovered from your eventful evening?"

Titus nodded. He expected Jordan to speak up as well, but when he looked at his friend, Jordan was sitting bolt upright with his mouth wide open.

"When you're ready, head to the training sands. Don't take too long though. You know how nobles are; they don't like to be kept waiting."

"Sorry?" Petra enquired before Darius could leave. "What nobles are you talking about? And why are they waiting? Are they waiting for us?"

"Oh, haven't you been informed? Today is the day you are going to showcase what you've learned so far. It's a sort of rite of passage — a chance to demonstrate your skills in your first real fight. Higher-ranked Contestants and some nobles like to watch. Just try not to embarrass yourselves out there, alright?"

"Alright," Titus replied, trying his best not to sound worried that he was actually going to have to fight. "We'll do our best." Then, after a brief pause he added: "When I first saw you, what were you doing? And why did you not want anyone to know about it?"

"I wish I could tell you, my White-Ranked friend," Darius said with a wink. "But then I'd have to kill you. And we wouldn't want that, now, would we?"

"N... no, sir!" Jordan finally found his voice. "That's definitely not something we want. Now, Titus, Petra, we'd better get a move on if we want to get down to the training sands and not keep Darius waiting."

Darius gave Titus a nod without acknowledging Jordan's comment, and Titus could sense that his friend was almost fit to burst.

"What?" Titus asked, addressing nobody in particular.

"Come on," Jordan urged. "Dre... I mean, Darius doesn't need to hang around with White-ranked Contestants. Let's get going."

Jordan had already risen from his bed and was pulling on a white cotton shirt. He handed Titus a matching one, and Titus quickly pulled it over himself.

"I'll see you down there," Darius said, turning and leaving, with Jacob following closely behind.

And once Darius had closed the door behind him, Jordan finally exploded. "You didn't tell me you KNOW Darius the Dreaded!"

"Who?" Titus asked.

Jordan gestured to the door, struggling to form words. "The DREADED?" he finally managed. "

Titus shrugged. "I don't really know him, know him. I met him when I first arrived here. He asked me not to tell anyone I saw him and then he told me which way to go."

Jordan's mouth hung open as if this were the most unbelievable story he'd ever heard.

"If you keep your mouth hanging open like that," Petra threatened, "I'll see if I can fit my fist in there. Clearly, our 'Friend of the Famous' here has no clue who that purple-ranked Contestant is, so you'd better enlighten him before I do."

"But he's a legend! How could he not..." Jordan started, then regained his composure and spoke slowly, pulling his shirt straight. "That was Darius the Dreaded. He's a purple-ranked Warrior, on the verge of becoming black-ranked, I'd guess. I've seen him in some of the most epic battles ever! Once, he took on three Nightmare Lycans all by himself... WITH HIS BARE HANDS!"

"No!" Titus feigned disbelief. Then followed up with: "I have no idea what that means."

"Come on, little and large, walk and talk," Petra interjected. "We already know that Titus doesn't know anything, so let's go before we miss out on whatever this is."

The three quickly ensured they had everything they needed before leaving the room, which turned out to be very little and then made their way to the training sands. However, before reaching their destination, Titus felt something round and heavy in his trouser pocket. Retrieving it, he discovered a small wooden ring and, upon inspection, read its properties.

Wooden Stamina Ring

Value: Unknown

Effect: +5 Stamina

Titus had no idea where it came from, who placed it there, or why he needed it. However, the mere fact that he now possessed something that would give him an advantage, in whatever form it took, filled him with a warm, contented feeling in his chest.

But he was still about to fight, and that was something that no trinket could save him from.