Chapitre 36: Frightened Children
Their telekinesis proved troublesome, but Morne made short work of them regardless.
Morne's brutal murder of their comrade had instilled a deep sense of fear in the four surviving creatures, but they still fought to the best of their abilities. After all, this was the difference between life and death for them.
Despite their determination, however, they flinched and retreated every time Morne reached for one of them with his open hand. They had no desire to discover what it was that made the goblin Morne killed scream like that.
They were on the defensive more often than not, their fears causing hesitation when presented with an opening. Morne's arms were longer than their weapons, what if he blocked their attack and latched onto them?
Goblins were not good at strategy, and weren't trained in combat past swinging their weapons wildly. They knew only what they taught themselves and what they saw, and they saw Morne snuff out two of their brethren with ease.
So Morne had to participate in an aggravating game of cat and mouse, chasing after the cowardly goblins and putting them down one by one.
It was frustrating to the point he would've screamed at the top of his lungs if he was a different person.
That telekinesis was sporadic and unpredictable. It didn't have enough power behind it to hurt or even stagger him, but the goblins weren't consistent with their usage of it.
Sometimes they focused it on his weapon, and other times they used to slow down his oncoming hand as they backpedaled away.
They were too nimble most of the time for him to attack with his other hand after the first was slowed, especially after they saw him kill the second goblin and knew to look out for that trick, so he had to start utilizing Splinter and his feet to slip past their guards before they scurried away.
.......
"Splinter shot."
A blob of energy smacked into the goblin's wide-open eye, causing it to screech in pain. Morne felt the hold on his mace loosen, and his arm flexed as he brought it down on the goblin's head.
SPLAT!
The goblin's limp carcass slumped to the ground, joining its friends in death.
The announcer, Inprek, congratulated Morne and directed him to the waiting room as usual, a strained smile on his face.
'What the hell was that?' he thought angrily.
That wasn't supposed to be so easy. Goblins were supposed to be relentless, people-eating monsters. So why the hell did they run away like frightened children?!
Inprek scowled inwardly while still maintaining an outward smile. He saw the way his noble guests were looking at the arena.
They were bored. They might've enjoyed this round at first, but after the first two deaths, it felt no different from watching an animal bleed out. They all knew how it would end, and there was no excitement in waiting for that end.
Inprek wasn't in any danger. Or at least, his life wasn't. His wallet, on the other hand, was sweating profusely.
He charged by the round. The round before this, one that Morne hadn't fought in, was equally as disappointing to watch. Who knew that such a scrawny guy would share the same School of magic as their dear old Fendbern, Morne's short handler?
If the next round was another disappointment, the nobles would leave or worse, ask for refunds. With another three rounds until they closed for the day, that was at least a thousand Opyens out of his pocket!
He beckoned to a nearby Knife-Tongue, who bent down to hear Inprek without the others catching wind.
"I want the next two rounds to be as close as they can be," he said. "I don't want either one of these Mages to leave their battle unscathed, understood? Fail, and I'll feed you to Spike. He's been awful hungry lately."
The Knife-Tongue shuddered and nodded, rushing away to the fight organizers.
.......
A full day later, Morne stood in the waiting room once again.
The door behind him closed, and minutes afterward, the door in front of him opened.
He hefted his mace and strode out, ready to be out of this Gods-forsaken place.
The gate from which his opponent would come out of creaked open, and Morne shifted his footing as he waited for them to emerge.
THUMP.
He narrowed his eyes.
THUMP.
Whatever was coming, it sounded big.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
The vague form of a silhouette appeared in the darkness under the gate.
Blue eyes that glowed in the dark gazed back at Morne, an alien sort of intelligence hovering behind its irises. As it moved forward, Morne caught more glimpses of it.
A scaled arm here, a swishing tail clad in stone there, yellowed teeth glinting in the light of the arena.
THUMP.
Just judging by the height of the eyes, Morne was dealing with something around four feet tall. But as it slinked out into the arena, Morne realized that its height was the least intimidating thing about it.
THUMP.
The full size of the creature was soon on full display, and the breath of the spectators caught as the beast emerged.
It was a lizard. One that was over twenty-five feet long from nose to tail tip.
Everything past the halfway mark on its back was clad in plates of stone, including its hind legs and its tail.
This seemed to be where the thumping sound came from, as each time the beast lifted a hind leg, it would crash down to the ground from the weight of its stone armor.
Each of its teeth was as sharp as a razor, and the front half of its body was covered in glistening silver scales.
Morne didn't know what this creature was, but the audience did.
A Saxunt Lizard.
While the goblins Morne had fought previously weren't yet mature enough to disrupt his Spells, this lizard had no such problem.
Beast bloodlines followed the same ranking system as Spells, from Novice Grade to Arch-Mage Grade, and this Saxunt Lizard had an Apprentice-Grade bloodline.
A Saxunt Lizard had a handful of abilities given to it by its bloodline, and every one of them spelled trouble for its food. Unfortunately for Mages, they were included in this category.
The softer ones among the Knife-Tongues couldn't help but feel sorry for Morne, while Inprek scowled as he realized his subordinate had gone overboard.
The crueler ones like Tross, meanwhile, couldn't contain their grins, and the nobles leaned forward in their seats in interest.
This was going to be a bloodbath.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone