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89.1% The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life / Chapter 229: 29. No Matter What.

Kapitel 229: 29. No Matter What.

Week 4. Mariella and Mimosa.

As Mariella walked into the cage, she was ready as ever, with Mimosa by her side. They had been in this very nasty fight club in Iceland for over a week, where they were required to fight for two weeks before finding out what their next challenge would be. So far, they had encountered several natural disasters that they had to prevent or help with, as well as various fight clubs. They had defused bombs three times and had to eliminate a few guys twice. Though these opponents were nasty, Mariella was exhausted and injured. She used all her energy and magic to fight, just like Mimosa did. Both of them relied on their fangs for both good and bad purposes.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing three normal-looking guys who were badly scarred. Mimosa cursed, recognizing them as division demons and hybrid versions. She warned Mariella about their energy abilities and the danger of consuming their blood excessively.

Mariella nodded, her expression grim. "Yeah, we don't want to have too much fun, just the two of us, and neglect to treat our injuries," she replied.

Mimosa's eyes flashed with a powerful white-hot rage, which Mimi sent to them steadily. It was helpful, but they had to be cautious not to let it overpower them.

Mariella allowed her eyes to turn into pools of blackness, a strength she had developed during her time at the hive. Her vampire side would play a crucial role in this fight. The gong sounded, and the men attacked each other, transforming into tiny balls of fur, ready to bite or strike with energy.

Mariella started attacking them, wielding her energy sword that formed in her right hand at will. Mimosa bit into one of the balls, reducing it to a puddle of goo. Each division demon could split into up to 70 balls, so they had to kill around 50 of them to count as a win. It was challenging because they couldn't distinguish which ball belonged to which demon, so they had to eliminate them all. Every bite from the fur balls hurt and hindered their healing process, causing slight drowsiness. However, they had no choice but to fight off and kill each and every one of them.

As the fight continued, Mariella felt every damn stinging bite, smelled her blood, sweat and missed Damon. She promised herself that she would spend time with him once this was over, and nothing would stop her. 

Salvatores.

Damon let out a groan from his bed as he attempted to sit up. His vocalization caught the attention of one of the nurses, who approached him and gently placed her hand on his strong chest.

Her soothing voice came through, saying, "Take it easy. You're injured and not in any condition to move. Do you need anything, like a drink or some food?"

Damon moistened his dry mouth, which tasted like old blood and sweat. It wasn't surprising, considering how many victims he had bitten to death during his time here. He tried to clear the fog from his mind, feeling drugged and disoriented.

The girl asked again, her blonde hair cascading down her slender frame. She had a tall and gentle appearance, with large brown eyes, flawless skin, and a perfect figure. "Can I get you anything? You need to stay still since you're not fully healed. Don't make it any harder for yourself."

Damon managed to respond, "I could use something to drink, preferably with caffeine, if you have any."

The girl nodded and said, "I'll bring something to you soon. Just lay back down. I'll need to change your dressings shortly."

Her gentle voice provided reassurance and calmness as Damon watched her walk away, noticing the subtle sway of her hips. He was tired, unsure of how long they had been fighting in that wretched arena, day in and day out. Whenever one of them got injured, the nurses were there to tend to them. However, the injuries were often severe enough that they could only patch them up crudely and hope for their natural healing abilities to kick in. Damon knew that he had lost weight and fitness during his time here.

He could feel Mimi sending him energy, usually in the form of rage, but sometimes there was a clearer connection, and she sent various energies. These energies could be useful, as long as his energy manipulation abilities hadn't been affected. Damon pushed himself to sit, wincing at the pain from a large wound spanning across his midsection. He focused, pushing the pain to the back of his mind.

He didn't have time to lie in bed and be taken care of while the rest of his team faced the daily challenges in the arena. He concentrated, sending a pleading feeling to Mimi, silently asking for something. Though he couldn't communicate with her directly, she seemed to be distant at times, but she responded.

Damon felt a flood of pure love wash over him, which was beneficial as it enhanced his healing abilities. Mixed with his own energy, including a hefty dose of her intense lust, he felt his sluggish healing process pick up pace. Soon enough, he would be well enough to enter the arena and help his teammates. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to escape this place someday.

Wulfe and the wizards found themselves in a dire situation. Wulfe, frustrated, muttered to himself and sternly told Dresden to stay put.

"I may not be a doctor, but this wound needs proper bandaging," he exclaimed.

Determined, Wulfe tore strips from the bedsheets to tend to Dresden's ugly wound. It ran deep, starting from his shoulder, crossing his spine, and almost reaching his left buttock. Wulfe managed to stop the bleeding for now, but he focused on wrapping the upper portion of the wound to prevent it from reopening.

Dresden couldn't help but fidget in pain, while Constantine remained unconscious. Wulfe had no time to worry about him; he had to take things one day at a time and one battle at a time. It was far from easy, and his anger towards Horatio only grew stronger with each passing day. He longed to confront him, but with the wounds scattered across his body, healing and fresh, Wulfe knew that seeking revenge wouldn't be as simple as shooting after him. Besides, he had no idea where that weasel was hiding or how the rest of the pack was faring. It was uncertain how long it would take for everyone to heal and recover.

What began as magical duels had quickly transformed into brutal fights in an arena. It seemed that everyone had their fair share of participation in these fight clubs, each with their own advantages over Wulfe and his companions. However, Wulfe used his strong and ancient magic to conjure weapons for their defense. Dresden did what he could to assist, but Wulfe's magic was potent and skilled enough to create tangible weapons, not just fleeting illusions that could disappear under the impact of a curse. 

Constantine had taken a critical hit, and Wulfe had put him to sleep to aid in his recovery. It was uncertain whether Constantine would be able to join Dresden in the next fight, considering his injury. The enemies they faced were resistant to magic, making spells ineffective. Curses had some effect, but they would often take a toll on Constantine.

Wulfe could feel Mimi or Damon sending him a boost, but he knew it would take time to fully recover. Additionally, his desire for revenge added another complication. On one hand, he felt justified in seeking revenge due to his age and position in the pack. On the other hand, he knew that the rest of the pack would also be injured and in need of his help. He contemplated whether to be patient and allow the doctors to fix him and the others up, or to prioritize his revenge.

Magnum's teachings on fighting and the help to unload his unicorn had been invaluable, but now Wulfe had to rely more on his physical abilities due to his limited use of magic. Wulfe, tired and angry, began to understand the challenges faced by his unicorn.

He could sense her struggling with her own darkness, and he had to use a powerful spell to block it.

He murmured to himself, "Oh, no you don't, do not even think about it."

They would need to address this issue upon their return. Wulfe had some plans for the future, but with Damon and the rest of the pack involved, he was unsure when they would come to fruition.

Adam, Charles, and the boys 

They were once again on a hunting expedition. It was incredibly challenging, and the boys had to trek long distances in search of suitable targets to kill. Of course, they would eliminate whoever they came across, but it took time. As a result, they all started to feel extremely nervous, irritable, and cranky. Additionally, they were more or less injured. However, they were gradually healing, albeit with some singed parts on Demon's once black and lustrous fur, which now bore pink and angry-looking burns. The leopard had half of its tail chopped off, but they knew they would recover in due time. It was still a difficult journey.

Charles grunted as he leaned on his cane. His right leg had not fully healed yet, so he relied on the cane to walk. Adam walked ahead, keeping his eyes peeled for any female demons nearby. They could be quite dangerous and knew how to conceal themselves, resulting in a few surprise attacks. Vigilance was crucial but draining. They had very little blood to sustain themselves, as these creatures were not exactly appetizing for their vampire sides. Even when they resorted to drinking blood from each other, they still ended up battered and losing blood. Consequently, they couldn't afford to drain others too much.

Charles noticed movement to his left and cursed.

He alerted Adam, saying, "Incoming on your left."

Charles grabbed his dagger, grimacing as the stance caused a sharp pain to shoot through his injured leg. However, he was prepared when five female demons emerged from the dark forest. They had dark hair, almost white skin, ruby red eyes, leather dresses, and soft leather boots. Their creamy thighs were visible, and their dresses clung to their ample breasts. The smiles on their faces seemed harmless, but Charles knew better.

The first female approached him and attempted to touch him. Without hesitation, Charles drove his dagger through her, causing her beautiful face to contort into a pained and hateful expression. He twisted the dagger mercilessly, causing her eyes to roll back into her head. Blue blood poured from the corner of her mouth as she slumped to the ground, eventually turning into a puddle of blue goo. Adam cursed vehemently as one of the females managed to strike him with her dagger, slicing into his arm and causing him to drop his own dagger.

Charles turned around, momentarily forgetting the pain in his leg, and swiftly stabbed his next victim. The grumbles and roars of the two felines soon merged with the chaos, as Charles had shared information about these enemies with them as well. The felines' powerful jaws tore through the wild creatures, leaving behind scattered puddles of thick blue goo.

Charles grunted in annoyance as Lepard vigorously shook his back paw, having accidentally stepped into one of the puddles and soiling his paw.

Adam let out a grunt, saying, "It will soon evaporate. No need to bathe us in that mess. Come on, let's keep moving."

Demon approached, sniffing Adam's arm and snorting, but Adam just grunted back. He knew he would be fine; it was just one more wound that would heal over time. They were all beyond reason, consumed by anger. The adrenaline was helpful, preventing them from fully feeling the severity of their injuries.

As the enemies continued to flood in, they remained in a constant state of heightened alertness, relying on the pumping adrenaline to keep them functional. They had no choice but to keep going, enduring and killing as many as they possibly could. This was not the time to ponder the future or their own well-being. They were simply living in the present moment, reacting, staying prepared, and moving forward.

They hoped for an end to this ordeal, although it was difficult to gauge the passing of time in this otherworldly dimension. There were no stars or moons to guide them, and none of them were experts in astronomy, nor did they have the luxury of time to learn about this place. They could only hope that somehow, at some point, it would all come to an end. 


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