Forced Into Tyranny

3: Stale Bite

Rusthelm Town,
Dungeons of the Den.

     Weapons and Shadows was a game of names, where everyone and everything had a title. The Freshbloods were the new arrivals, and they came in weekly to participate in the Death Realm matches. In these matches, only thirty men walked back out, and it was done to filter out the weak ones. Despite the danger, people loved to watch clueless and unskilled participants butt heads and kill themselves.
      An Insider was a man who had crossed the first stage. Once a Freshblood could kill an Insider, he was ready to become one. And once an Insider could kill a Champion, he became one. These three ranks were the only ones that existed, and they were achieved through a number of games that could either kill or cut you. A scoreboard was kept to rate each participant, and the stakes high. In this world, only the strong survived, and the game was a test of both skill and endurance.
      For endurance, it was a Regular Match, where both fighters in the same rank would fight until one was too weak to continue.
And a Death Realm match was to see skills...victors.
     Even in Regular matches, death was a possibility, but one could concede if they thought they wouldn't make it through. However, the bad side of conceding was that it put your name at the bottom of the scoreboard. This meant that you would have to face either the same person again in a Recoil match or another loser like yourself in Redemption. And these were all Death Realm matches.
     Beast was the most formidable fighter in the Champion Territory, feared by all who dared to cross him. He was a legend in the Den, known for his ferocity and cunning. But few knew the truth of his past, of how he and Raven had once been neighbors in the land of Navaría, until they were taken and made slaves. In those dark days, Beast was known as Kriton, a name that echoed with the pain and anguish of a life stolen. But now, as a Champion, he had reclaimed his power and his destiny, and his name would forever be synonymous with victory and glory.
      Raven and Kriton shared an unbreakable bond of trust, each relying on the other to have their back in the brutal Den. Despite the harsh conditions of their captivity, the six remaining Champions had grown close, forming a brotherhood that transcended the walls of their dungeons. But their camaraderie was born from the ashes of loss and sacrifice, as they were the only survivors of the seventy-seven men taken from Navaría. Many had perished as Freshbloods, others as Insiders, and the rest as Champions. Yet despite the odds against them, these six warriors remained, united in their quest for freedom and justice, even if they couldn't mention that part out.
      Raven and Beast strode down the dimly lit passage, their path illuminated by flickering torches affixed haphazardly to the rough brick walls. They were making their way to the Freshblood Territory, where new fighters were brought in to be trained and tested.
      Raven turned to Kriton, his eyes filled with concern. "When is your match?" he asked. "And who are you fighting?"
      Beast's voice trembled a little as he answered, "I'm fighting with Rumble against four Insiders."
      Expression hardening, Raven's jaw set with determination. "Monday?"
      Beast nodded. "I detest fighting with Rumble against even a spider."
      That was a Revival match, where the top four Insiders were pitted against the bottom two Champions. Kriton found himself among the latter group, having fallen in rank after he conceded his Regular match with Raven the previous week. It was a strange and sobering reality that despite their camaraderie in the Den, the Arena was a place where names were forgotten and alliances were fleeting.
      In the cutthroat world of Weapons and Shadows, loyalty and friendship were often seen as liabilities. Raven and his fellow warriors knew this all too well, and they played the game accordingly. However, when it came to Kriton's life, Raven's sense of duty and honor could not be silenced. No matter the consequences, he was determined to save his friend and remain true to his allies, even if it meant defying Pillus and the powerful council. For Raven, there was no other way.
      "Let me hear your musings," said Kriton, giving Raven a tap on the back. Raven winced as he felt the dull ache in his untreated wound.
       Kriton had asked a good question. What really was on Raven's mind?
      Raven's thoughts had drifted to the possibility of cheating the system, as they had done before. The rules of the Death Realm were both a blessing and a curse, as they had the power to both save and destroy. One such rule was that Champions were never allowed to fight other Champions, except in the case of Recoil. This was a random match set up by Pillus for the bottom two Champions to face off against each other and determine who was superior that week for them to place a bet on him to face a Death Realm match.
       However, Pillus had ceased setting up the Recoil match, especially since no Insider had killed a Champion in the past thirty sennights. It would be foolish to risk weakening all of his Champions in a Recoil. Raven had a plan, though. He could challenge Beast to a Regular match and then willingly concede, taking his place in the bottom two and fighting alongside Rumble against the Insiders. This was allowed, as Champions were permitted to challenge anyone to either a Death Realm or Regular Match twice a month, as long as they were not Freshbloods.
     "I'll challenge you."
      Beast choked. "Raven!"
     "Cease the shouting of that name," Raven exclaimed. The sound of Raven reverberating in the Den was an unwelcome reminder of his life in Rusthelm. Kriton was not allowed to call him that.
     Kriton let out a deep sigh, looking ambushed by fear. He stopped walking, and Raven followed suit. "Correction, Hektor," he spoke firmly. "If Pillus discovers our scheme, he will cancel the Challenge matches for Champions without hesitation."
      "Until then, I can save your arse."
Raven shrugged, a smile lacing his lips. "Thank me later."
      Kriton rushed to catch up with Raven, blocking his path and giving him a worried look. "Wait, let us take a moment to consider our options," Kriton urged.
      Raven stood tall and resolute, his eyes glinting with purpose. "I have already pondered this matter. I shall inform Rumble of our predicament, and we shall prepare accordingly," he declared, his voice ringing with confidence.
      Raven couldn't bear the thought of losing Kriton. He was more than just a friend; he was a brother. The Den was only bearable because of him, and moreover, Kriton had saved Raven's life on numerous occasions.
      On a second thought, Raven looked over his shoulder. "Mark my words, Kriton. If you concede before I do in the Challenge, I will break your jaw myself," he thundered, his voice echoing across the passages. With that, he pushed the gate open and strode confidently into Freshblood territory.