The Final Battle of Lycundar's Arena III

The Final Battle of Lycundar's Arena III

CRNCH!

Screams sounded from the end of the passage. Something titanic shook the foundations of the mountain and Kyembe could only grit his teeth as he rushed toward the source. The Ameldan wretch had fled toward what sounded to be a pitched battle within the mountains core.

What had occurred?

Had Cristabel already made her way there?Follow current novels on novelb((in).(com)

Did these cultists have a falling out among themselves?

The Spirit Killer froze in astonishment as he emerged from the tunnels mouth.

CRASH!

A one-eyed cyclops, a titan from a time when gods were many and mortals few, rampaged through a blood-soaked arena to scatter figures like mere toys before it. Bellowing, it raised up a tree in a hand the size of a wagon and-

WHOOOOOSH!

BOOOOM!

-smote the fleeing mortals. Bronze crumpled. Bodies exploded into crimson slurry or shattered like wooden dolls. It aimed for a clot of bronze-armed warriors, but its tremendous swings did not discern, catching black robed cultists in the mix.

Whiiiish!

Shattered forms swept through the air as though hurled from catapults.

Whoosh!

By the stars! Kyembe ducked.

Crash!

A bloody form shot over his head and crashed into the walls of the tunnel, ricocheting with gruesome speed until finally coming to rest in a broken heap. Cursing, the Sengezian turned to slip back into the dark: he knew not the details of this melee, but Wurhi awaited somewhere nearby.

A familiar glitter caught his eye.

He stopped.

perhaps nearer than he had thought.

His friend - transformed into a rat and girded for war - scrambled higher into the seats around the arena with jewelled sword in hand. Alongside her ran another small figure with a tightly gripped spear. Kyembes spirits leapt to their peak. His friend lived! He had hoped, but had also felt a mounting dread-

There, my pet! Some muscle-bound scoundrel pointed at Wurhi. Crush her! She is the cause of all this!

The cyclops turned and glared at the little Zabyallan. Both she and the spearman screamed and turned to flee, but the cyclops would only need a few sweeping steps to catch them.

Its enchanted edge bit into the stone while the Tears of Amitiyah melted it, and the jarring impact slowed her descent. Carving a caustic trench into the side of the chasm, she ground downward with a terrible scrape of metal upon stone.

With faith as her guide, she suddenly kicked against the wall to rip her blade free.

The knight gathered terrible swiftness as she free-fell toward the battle.

Kyembe? Wurhi turned, so shocked by the familiar voice that she had to look back. Her eyes widened. There he was, as though he stepped right out of her hopes: the towering Sengezian fighting a rising tide of cultists.

Yet he had come too late.

Rat! Its gaining! Merrick cried.

The cyclops bore down on them, its breath rushing like a hurricane. Chittering in panic, she scrambled away, but Berard - that cowardly, drooling son of a dog - was blocking the closest exit.

There was no chance for escape.

BOOM!

The titan took another step and despair gripped her. All the trials shed faced to break out, all shed gone through, and now Kyembe had finally arrived simply to watch her die?

BOOM!

Another step.

The giant raised its club. It was close now, striding directly beneath the hole in the ceiling. All sound seemed to fall away. In the face of death, all Wurhi could hear was its thunderous steps, its breath and-

SCCCCRRRRR!

-a hideous scraping sound that put teeth and claws on edge.

wait what?

What was that sound? Like metal grinding upon stone. She looked up to see the cyclops pause at the noise, its single eye widening in dull surprise. Its mouth agape, it slowly raised its head to look up.

It squinted as a blazing light - not merely that of the moon - shone into its eye.

SSSSSCR-

The scraping stopped.

A form dropped from the hole in the ceiling, heralded by a familiar battle cry.

For the glory of Amitiyah! St. Cristabel roared, wrapped in the nimbus of her gods light. Her sword was braced against her in a two-handed grip, with its deadly point levelled below.

The Solidblade Knight descended toward the cyclops like a falling star.