Expecting Betrayal (2)
The rack jolted violently. The wall rings shuddered, lifting the frame a fraction before inertia slammed it back against the stone. Nathan swallowed a scream as pain lanced through his pierced side. The veiled woman turned her head calmly to look at him. Nathan’s fingers, curled into claws, would have seized her throat in an instant if they had not been bound. The intruder’s lips curved into a smile.
“Oho.”
“You,” Nathan growled, the whisper thick with rage and agony barely held in check. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I wasn’t trying to play word games, but mind your phrasing, Nathan. From now on, you should ask what kind of Eleim I am. Calling celestial residents ‘humans’ is considered a grave insult.”
“Who the fuck are you to lecture me—!”
“You’ll learn naturally someday. If you survive, that is.”
She leaned closer, hands clasped behind her back, like a white-and-black viper gliding toward a cornered rat. Nathan’s bound arms strained against the restraints. The woman’s face no longer looked beautiful to him.
“You’re completely defenseless right now, Nathan. Is it wise to pry into someone else’s secrets? What if I pulled a blade from my pocket?”
The mockery was obvious, yet undeniably true, which only fueled Nathan’s fury. He glared up at her with bloodshot eyes, but she merely let the killing intent wash over her smile.
“Watch your conduct, Nathan. Aspen’s life is in my hands. What did you tell those orcs? That you’d smash their heads like charcoal? Just as you hated the orcs, I might come to hate Aspen—”
The rack shook again. Nathan thrashed with every ounce of strength, the iron frame groaning under the strain. The welds looked ready to give way. The woman stepped back—not out of fear, but simply to wait, gazing at the ceiling until his rage burned itself out.
“There. Much better. You look far more alive than before.”
Sweat rolled down his brow and splattered onto the gray floor. No amount of fury would break the restraints. Wasting more strength was pointless. Yet facing her again would only stoke the same useless anger. Nathan kept his eyes fixed on the ground, breathing hard.
“I used to look up to elves. A few hours with you lot and the illusion’s already cracking. You crazy long-eared bastards.”
“Long-eared, is it? An amusing expression. You’re not the only fool to harbor delusions about us Eleim. I hope that brings you some comfort.”
Footsteps echoed from afar. The intruder sighed softly.
“The guards are coming. I must go. Remember this, Nathan: if you don’t win, you’ll lose far more than you can afford.”
“…You already said you wouldn’t answer who you are. Then what happens to you if I lose?”
The woman, already turning away, stopped.
“I believe I just advised you against asking questions.”
“You get to say whatever you want and leave. That’s bandit logic. Even mercenaries get an advance. If you’re going to order around a knight of some standing, you could at least explain the situation.”
“Fair enough. If you lose… well.”
At that moment the torch on the wall flickered wildly. A sudden gust pressed against Nathan’s skin and he tensed his jaw. How could there be a draft in a sealed cell? The woman’s black dress billowed. As the hem lifted, Nathan flinched and turned his head—yet in the instant before he shut his eyes, he saw: nothing beneath it.
“In that case, simply remember Aspen while you’re still alive, Nathan.”
Bitch.
The black dress dissolved into dark smoke and vanished, taking the pale skin and that chilling smile with it. The black mist scattered in an instant. Nothing remained. Only the crackle of the torch and Nathan, alone once more.
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The new visitor who arrived with the elf guards introduced herself as the arena operator’s secretary. Nathan replied that it must be exhausting serving such a strange superior. It was pure mockery, yet her reaction surprised him. The secretary nearly burst out laughing, barely managing to suppress it under the guards’ watchful eyes.
The guards who unlocked the cell waited outside. The secretary approached the rack and studied Nathan with bright, curious eyes, as though examining a rare bird. Nathan found it unsettling.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Maybe I have. She might even appear in my dreams.”
Nathan’s eyelid twitched. A mage? A demon? If she was truly a ghost, she had been a vicious one. It would take dozens of exorcist priests to drive her out.
“Oh, but you speak quite politely after all. Yesterday in the arena you were cursing up a storm; I was rather intimidated.”
Nathan was grateful she had changed the subject—and that she had shown him basic courtesy. A conversation without insults or crude speech felt like something he hadn’t experienced in decades.
“Yesterday? A whole day has already passed. Of course my tone is polite. You addressed me respectfully first, so I must return the courtesy.”
“Respectfully? Ah, right. You’re a Sapiens.”
The secretary squeezed her eyes shut as though she had made a terrible mistake. Should’ve known better than to hope. Nathan kept his disappointment from showing. The lack of respect here wasn’t the fault of any single individual. Compared to everything else he had endured, it was nothing. So while the secretary unlocked the rack, Nathan simply stared at the ceiling and swallowed his anger in silence.
“There!”
Nathan’s body collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud. The secretary yelped and jumped aside. No amount of strength had been enough to tear the restraints free, yet a single key had sufficed. There was no time to feel hollow about it.
“Are you all right? No, wait—that’s not… Ahem. Prepare yourself, slave! The time to fight draws near! Get up and ready yourself… please. Sorry. I’m having trouble lowering my speech…”
The secretary twisted her hair in embarrassment, but Nathan, rising unsteadily, paid her no mind.
So her words were true.
He would soon be thrown into the match. His opponent was a chimera. The veiled trickster had told him as much. Judging by the roar of the crowd outside, the next bout was about to begin, which meant at least half of what she said had been accurate. The crocodile-headed chimera was probably waiting for him right now.
If that’s true, then her claim about holding Aspen might be true as well.
Nathan carefully touched his side. It still throbbed and bled, yet the wound had already begun to close. He hadn’t hallucinated from exhaustion. The unknown woman had truly been here. She had healed him, warned him of the coming fight, and demanded victory. If that had been all, he might have considered her an ally. But she had also threatened to kill Aspen if he failed…
“Which means, if I flip it around, Aspen is still alive.”
Look on the bright side. A full night’s sleep and whatever regenerative drug they had given him had left him far more mobile. There was no proof yet, but his infuriating senior might still be breathing. Self-pity would accomplish nothing. The chessboard’s paths were never obvious, but a knight had to keep moving until they became clear. So for now, he would do what he could.
His goals were simple: escape this place and save Aspen. To do that, the immediate task was—
“Even if I tried to run now, I couldn’t get out, could I?”
“Um… no. This is a floating resort facility. There’s nowhere to run.”
“If I refused to fight, they’d drag me out anyway, right?”
“Probably…”
“Then let’s head to the arena. No point stalling.”
They probably think I’ll die if I face that thing again. Last time I hadn’t slept in a week.
To escape and rescue Aspen, he first had to survive. It was time to finish what he started with the crocodile chimera’s jaw.
Let’s show these lion-wing knights what we can do to their precious chimera.
Nathan stepped toward the cell door, but the secretary grabbed his arm.
“W-wait! You have to wear this before you go…”
“What is it?”
Nathan let her lead him without resistance. He doubted this absent-minded office worker harbored any ill intent. So when a sharp sting bloomed across his chest, he still didn’t raise his guard.
“Ow. That actually hurts more than I expected. You could’ve warned me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Why do I need this thing anyway?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Suspicion colored the secretary’s repeated apologies. Hold on. She said ‘stabbed,’ not ‘attached’? Nathan looked down. A small cylinder with a needle was embedded in his chest. Dizziness rushed in. His legs gave out. The secretary backed away, hands trembling.
Right. They won’t risk sending me out at full strength.
Once again he had been fooled by a seemingly kind gesture. Nathan accepted it. It’s fine. I’m getting used to being powerless.
With his face pressed to the floor, the knight muttered calmly, “You people are really something. Every single one of you pulls some new trick on a first meeting.”
“I didn’t want to do this either. I have to stay alive too…”
The secretary’s excuse never reached him. Soldiers marched in, seized his arms, and dragged him out. His greaves scraped along the corridor floor with an unpleasant sound, but Nathan didn’t care. Even when they hurled him through the doorway, his expression remained serene. The door they had thrown him past was the arena entrance. Laughter and cheers rained down from the crowd above—aggressive, punitive roars rather than sympathetic support. They sounded genuinely delighted by the sight of his broken body.
“Ah, finally here!”
A thick, oily voice spoke nearby. The prime suspect’s confession spilled out without any interrogation.
“Just in case, I told them to stab you while you could still stand on two legs. But look at that—you actually got up? Impressive, Sapiens. Must be that barbaric blood of yours; you recover quickly.”
The tone grated on every nerve. Nathan rolled his eyes upward; he lacked the strength to lift his head. Whatever they had injected, it had left him helpless. The arena master’s moon-round face wore a crescent smile. Nathan smiled back.
These damn long-eared bastards.
“Anesthetic? Neurotoxin?”
“It’s called a nerve paralytic. Your strength will drain right out.”
“Come on, boss, why make your subordinate put on that act? Her hands were shaking like leaves. You could’ve just stabbed me while I was still chained.”
“Arrows you don’t see coming hurt more. Besides, I needed to check whether you could still stand on your own right before the match. You were already half-dead; another drug might have finished you off. If you’re going to die anyway, it’s better for business if you do it in front of the audience, don’t you think? I hope you appreciate how much thought I put into this, Sapiens.”
Two seconds of thought and Nathan would have gladly dug the man up just to behead him again. Instead, he made a difficult decision: he would forgive him. On one condition.
“Arena Master. While I was being dragged here, I did a lot of thinking. I deeply apologize for the damage I caused.”
The arena master looked skeptical.
“After all that electrocution you still kept your eyes open. Are you scared of being torn apart by a beast?”
“As I said earlier, there’s a war raging below. I don’t know how many comrades have died while I’ve been gone. My place is on the battlefield. Could you show mercy and send me back?”
“I already told you. You won’t be free to do as you please until your debt is paid.”
“I know today’s fight is basically an execution. If I’m lucky enough to survive, there’ll be another one waiting later. But—”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
Don’t interrupt, you bastard. Nathan calmly swallowed the curse.
“But you could just let me go anyway. I’ll die soon enough. We Lionwing Knights don’t live long even by human standards. Our job is to seek out danger. Most of us find our graves before our hair turns gray.”
A long-lived Lionwing Knight usually meant one whose name lingered in people’s mouths for a long time. Truly long-lived ones were rare. Nathan knew only one: his estranged, detestable father.
“So? You want to fight in a war but not in my arena?”
“I won’t ask for nothing in return. I’ll give you a fight worth watching. All I ask is one promise: if I fight with everything I have today and win, you’ll send me home.”
The crowd was growing restless, demanding the match begin. The arena master drank in the scent of their impatience and smiled indulgently.
“Mayfly friend, your homeland is several kilometers straight down. I could throw you off, but I doubt that’s what you want. Still, if you come back alive, I’ll consider it.”
His tone had grown almost generous.
“If you come back alive, that is.”
He might even drop Nathan off on the next flight down. Nathan smiled with genuine gratitude at the casually tossed promise.
“I won’t forget this kindness.”
Of course the odds of the man actually keeping his word were vanishingly small. But if he did, it would be because he believed Nathan posed no threat—an ordinary human could never strike back at a sky-arena master. The man was wrong. Looking down from above only made the full picture harder to see. The power the Human Union displayed in sunlight was not its entirety. His homeland had many secret weapons prepared against the Abyss Dragon Legion. If Aspen was the rescue target, some of those assets could be deployed. The Federation would repay the blood price the Peres family had paid across generations. If the elves ever sent Nathan back to the surface—or if he escaped on his own and returned safely—hundreds of flying monsters bred by the Federation’s dwarves beneath the mountains would rise into the sky.
How could I forget such kindness? I’ll carve it into my bones. I won’t forget, and I’ll come back to make you regret it.
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“Even real death-row prisoners get to walk to the execution ground on their own two feet.”
The soldiers ignored him. Nathan’s knees left long trails across the dirt. He wasn’t even granted the dignity of walking to his own death.
Fine. Do what you want. Carrying me is easier for me anyway. How thoughtful of them toward a man whose muscles are paralyzed.
Of course, it would be even better if they waited until the paralysis wore off, but he didn’t expect that. The elves were excellent teachers. He had known them only a short time, yet Nathan had already learned a great deal—most importantly one lesson: expecting anything from these cursed bastards was pure foolishness.
The soldiers dropped him roughly on purpose. Nathan’s face hit the mud.
“Were you the legitimate heirs too…?”
A metal boot slammed into his back. Once the soldiers’ footsteps faded, Nathan muttered to the dirt.
“So you were the legitimate heirs…”