*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter — Kingdom of Satar, Capital City Parthanon*
Demir checked the messaging scroll on his way to the animal shelter. In Brovick's section, there was no update other than "No movement on our side." Sin had only written that he was following the goblin army from a safe distance.
Demir wanted to press for more information, wanted to ask a million questions, but the magical paper was already filled a quarter of the way on the front. Space was precious.
When he reached Tartarus, the animal shelter's stink and dirtiness made his blood boil. They were clearly slacking. Demir hoped they weren't mistreating Asena. The enclosures looked unwashed, feeding troughs sat empty, and the smell of animal waste hung thick in the air.
When he saw the owners, Yumi and Tatmana, they were discussing something fiercely near the entrance. Yumi was holding a half-melted gold coin, turning it over in her fingers. When they spotted Demir, they immediately cut their argument short and turned to him with practiced smiles.
"Demir! Welcome. Are you here to pay this week's ration?" Yumi asked, tucking the coin away.
"Yeah. And to visit Asena. I've neglected her too much with work and training for the tournament."
"Oh yes, the tournament." Tatmana asked, clearly just making conversation with zero actual interest. "How is that going?"
"I'm still in it. Won my first preliminaries."
"Good, good. Come, let me show you to Asena."
---
The giant open-field shelter was divided into sections. Small cages housed smaller creatures, and Demir again noticed the muzzled black fox from before. It sat in the corner of its enclosure, clearly hating its existence. It wasn't trying to be cute to the customers browsing for pets. Instead, it stared at everyone who passed with something that looked disturbingly like contempt.
"The place looks..." Demir started, but Yumi cut him off.
"Dirty, right. We're working on a special creature, so we had to shift our workforce. But that's no excuse. I'll hire outside help to clean."
"That's good, then." Demir felt slightly relieved. This was their last week here, and he wanted nothing more than to leave the capital in one piece and send Aris a message through Kirious's contact.
They reached Asena's wide enclosure, and Demir's heart sank. Claw marks gouged every wall. Deep scratches in the stone, some fresh, some old. She had been tearing at her prison.
He bowed his head to greet her, but the giant wolf didn't turn around. She sat facing the wall, her silver fur dull and matted.
Demir pulled out a giant leg of lamb from his satchel and called her name. "Asena! Look what I brought!"
She didn't even care.
Demir turned to Yumi. "Could you open the gate? I want to be near her."
"I wouldn't advise that. She's been a little aggressive these days."
"Still. I want to."
Yumi shrugged and opened the gate. Demir entered alone.
"Sorry, girl. I'm really sorry." He approached slowly, hands visible. "I know you want to run freely in the forest, but I... I..."
Asena got up, took the lamb leg in her jaws, and sat back down. She still wouldn't look at him.
Demir forced a smile. "You're way more mature than me. Only a few days remain. Don't worry. We'll run in the wild together."
He reached out to brush her fur, but she pulled her body away and threw a fit, huffing loudly and turning her back even more completely.
Demir's heart ached. He walked around to her face side. "How about a good luck howl for the upcoming match?"
Asena turned her head to the other side and made an angry "Huff."
Demir walked to that side. "Come on."
Asena turned her head again. Another "Huff."
Demir pressed on and hugged her massive face close. "Commmme onnnn. You're like my big sis. Give me a good luck howl."
Asena opened her mouth and howled. It was short and clearly meant "There you go, now get out." But Demir felt the love and care underneath the frustration. He left a kiss on her snout.
As he left the enclosure, he saw the muzzled black fox again. It was watching him now, its dark eyes following his every movement.
Demir turned to Yumi. "That fox doesn't seem more dangerous than my Asena. Why muzzle it?"
"It's a unique pet. A special creation of the game designers. It's neither animal nor ordinary creature. Our associates search for special animals all around the world. That one is worth nearly half a million gold."
"Half a million?" Demir was stunned. "Why?"
"It can guide you to treasures no one else can remember. It's built into their brains."
The fox was looking at Yumi with pure hatred. Such human-like expressions on an animal, Demir thought. *The Severing must have changed it somehow.*
He shook off the strange feeling and headed back to the arena.
---
When Demir reached the coliseum, it was already time for his fight. Today, Marven and Marco had opened the workshop for an urgent and pricey job. A request from neighboring foundries that was easy but work-intensive. They weren't going to watch this match.
Demir wore his full set, pulled his shield into place, and drew his sword. With or without his friends cheering, he was ready.
He had to be ready.
---
His fifth opponent was a monk type. Lean, wiry, wearing leather wrappings instead of armor. Bronze knuckledusters gleamed on both fists, and he moved with the fluid grace of someone who had spent years training their body as a weapon.
The announcer called the match to start.
The monk exploded forward.
Demir barely got his shield up before the first blow landed, a hammering strike that rattled his entire arm. Then another. And another. The monk was everywhere at once, ducking under Demir's swings, dancing around his shield, landing punches to his sides, his legs, anywhere the armor was weakest.
*He's too fast*, Demir thought, trying to track the blur of movement.
A knee slammed into his thigh. An elbow cracked against his helmet. Demir staggered, vision swimming.
He tried the Turbo Charge combo. Jab right, jab left, feint kick. But the monk read every movement. He wasn't where Demir expected. Instead, he was behind Demir, landing a devastating double-fisted strike to his kidney area.
Demir stumbled forward, gasping.
*Think. Think!*
The monk pressed his advantage, raining blows. Demir weathered them on his shield, on his armor, feeling each impact like a drumbeat counting down to his defeat.
Then he remembered. Relentless Defence.
Instead of trying to attack, Demir focused entirely on blocking. He let his body fall into the pattern he had learned. Shield up. Step back. Turn the blow. Deflect. His movements became mechanical, automatic. Each block perfectly timed.
The monk's attacks started hitting armor instead of gaps. His knuckles rang against steel instead of flesh.
Frustration crept into his opponent's rhythm.
There. An overextension. The monk committed too hard to a strike.
Demir stepped inside the blow and shoulder-checked the smaller man. The monk stumbled. Demir followed with a shield bash that sent him sprawling.
But the monk rolled and came up swinging. His knuckleduster caught Demir's forearm, sending numbness shooting up to his shoulder.
They circled each other, both breathing hard now.
The monk came again. Fast. Brutal. But Demir was ready this time. He anticipated the pattern, the way the monk always went low before striking high.
When the low attack came, Demir didn't block. He stepped forward into it, letting the blow glance off his leg armor while he brought his shield around in a sweeping arc.
The edge caught the monk across the temple.
Not hard enough to kill. But hard enough.
The man crumpled.
The crowd booed.
"No blood?"
"Boring!"
"Fight like a real warrior!"
"He's playing it safe like a coward!"
Demir ignored them. He helped his fallen opponent to his feet.
---
In the medical facility, Demir sat on a cot while a healer treated the bruises blooming across his body. His opponent limped over, a cloth pressed to the cut on his head.
"You were a class-A opponent," the monk said, extending his hand. "Pulling your sharp edges. Thanks, man. Your win was well earned. I hope you win the whole thing." He paused, then pointed toward a corner of the tent. "Not that blood hound over there."
Demir followed his gesture. A medium-height teenager sat alone, wrapped in a black robe that covered every inch of his body. He was sulking in the corner, not talking to anyone, not accepting treatment.
"His techniques and face are too grotesque. Scary."
"Yeah," Demir said slowly. Something about the figure made his skin crawl. "You were amazing too. Your speed was unmatched."
When the medic shifted to treat his shoulder, Demir's messaging scroll fell to the ground. He noticed new writing in Sin's section.
He immediately grabbed the note and asked for a minute from his medic.
The words turned his blood to ice.
*"Demir, goblin army reached Ironfell and they are pouring into the city. The guards are not doing anything. I am afraid it is going to be bad for the local dwarves."*
*Oh no*, Demir thought. *They're going to arrest everyone who they think tried to overthrow the Iron Prince. Or worse.*