Pretty Boy's Charge
‘Passing out twice in one day is a bit much.’
The impact of iron rattled his skull. Nathan felt as if the sky and earth had flipped. His vision swam. He slammed face-first into the ground. Blood splattered across the sand and dirt.
‘Damn it. Sorry, Aspen. Guess this is it.’
“Finally! Problem solved.”
The arena owner, who had been biting his nails while watching the screen, let out a long breath. Sweat beaded on his long, fleshy ears like droplets about to fall. It was a relief the man was dead. The payout from betting against that single Sapiens today would have reached tens of billions. If the human had survived, the losses would have been ten times worse.
Someone always lost money when bets were placed. That was inevitable. But when the vast majority lost, the story changed. They would not blame their own foolish wagers; they would blame the arena owner who had rigged the game. Excuses about not foreseeing the outcome would never fly. Rumors of betting fraud would eat away at his business. Enraged spectators would abandon the arena for other entertainment. Rival owners would be licking their lips, ready to snatch up new customers.
His Floating Arena already carried enormous maintenance costs—fuel, permits, everything else. He could not let one rampaging Lower Worlder tear out the roots of his regular clientele. If the incident ended here, he could still dismiss it as a minor mishap. The fallen Sapiens would cause no more trouble, and one of the strong contenders for champion had survived. All he needed now was to soothe the audience’s complaints.
“Tough bastard, for a Sapiens. Landing is close, so we need to wrap this up fast. Make it spectacular. Before the people who bet on Bakama start rioting.”
The arena owner sank his obese body deeper into the sofa and gave the order.
“Release the beast.”
His female secretary nodded eagerly.
“Understood. Shall we send in the spider or the man-eating lion?”
“No. Something bigger.”
“Bigger, sir?”
The arena owner’s eyes widened. He wiped his sweaty, plump palms on his clothes, then slapped the secretary across the face. Five times in quick succession. The secretary, desperate to keep one of the few high-paying jobs in the Heavens, endured it in silence. Her cheeks swelled and her ears rang, but it was bearable. The arena owner’s bloated frame held no real strength.
“Obviously Pretty Boy. Send him out now. The villain who ruined the match gets devoured by the monster. Everyone will love it, right?”
The secretary was horrified. The question rose to her throat. That thing? Right now? Won’t it eat the surviving orcs too? But when the arena owner clenched his fist, patience exhausted, she abandoned further questions and hurried from the room.
‘That pig of an owner can handle it.’
“I’ll relay the order to the beast handlers immediately!”
[Oh my! A surprise gift package has just arrived in the arena! It’s been a month since we last saw our Pretty Boy! How have you been?]
A thunderous roar shook the air, followed by a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through bone.
“Kuh, gah. What the—?”
Nathan’s body jerked violently as consciousness returned.
‘I’m alive? From that?’
The first thing he felt upon waking was pain. The back of his head throbbed horribly. It was a miracle his skull was still in one piece. Even lying still made it pound, and now some unknown noise kept rattling his brain on top of everything. Whoever was making that racket needed to shut up. He silently thanked his parents and ancestors for his thick skull.
Nathan forced his eyes open, lids trembling. His vision was still hazy, but identifying the source of the noise was easy. The silhouette was far too massive to miss.
Nathan sighed.
“Ah, shit.”
It was a colossal chimera, easily eight meters long. A crocodile’s head. A tiger’s massive torso. Scorpion legs and tail. It looked as if some god with twisted tastes had grabbed random jungle creatures and mashed them together.
Nathan rubbed his eyes in disbelief. They called that Pretty Boy?
‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
The fog in his mind vanished instantly. Nathan tried to stand, panicked, then collapsed again. The gash in his side was the culprit. Blood poured freely, just like Aspen’s wound from the spear. Unlike Aspen, however, Nathan had no comrade left to protect him.
Whenever the creature’s steps veered off course, sparks of electricity crackled across its forehead. The crocodile head, fitted with electrodes, howled in pain and corrected its direction each time. Every time its jaws swept near the stands, the excited spectators erupted in cheers.
[Ladies and gentlemen! Our Sweetie, who left for the spawning season, has returned early to bring speed and excitement back to the match! Please welcome him with cheers and applause!]
The beast finally turned to face Nathan. The operators had guided it exactly where they wanted. No more electric shocks came.
[Ah, it seems our first sacrifice has been chosen!]
“Grrrk—!”
Half crocodile, half tiger. The massive creature let out a funeral-dirge roar and charged toward the fallen Nathan, determined to vent its fury on him.
The deeper Nathan’s despair grew, the more the crowd thrilled and screamed in delight. A few even let out bloodcurdling shrieks, but they were not cries of concern for Nathan. They were demands that the Sapiens who had ruined the auction be killed. Their desire was unanimous. Even Nathan could see their wish was likely to come true.
Yet he refused to give up. The moment he realized he could not stand, he began crawling desperately in the opposite direction of the beast. What he sought was a weapon. Among the corpses, the blade of a longsword glinted. A discarded sword. Aspen’s family blade—the longsword of Peres, engraved with humanity’s sun emblem.
‘I don’t know where you are, but I’ll borrow this for a moment, Aspen.’
Aspen’s body might be buried somewhere in that pile of corpses. If he dragged away the orcs lying on top, he might find Aspen staring up with wide, lifeless eyes, mouth frozen in a final scream… The thought made his chest tighten, but it was not impossible. The words of that bastard who had said being trampled and having one’s head crushed looked “impressive” kept circling in his mind.
No. He could not let that happen. Nathan forced the useless thought away. He had to survive. Aspen was alive. Only by living could he see Aspen again.
Nathan clawed at the ground in desperation. But just as his fingertips brushed the hilt, the thunder of the beast’s approach grew louder. There was no time to grab the sword and rise to meet the attack.
‘…Guess I won’t be borrowing it after all.’
Grinding his teeth, Nathan abandoned the sword and prepared to roll aside. At that moment—
“Damn it, I was trying to stay hidden.”
A blood-soaked gauntlet shot out and snatched the hilt. Nathan’s eyes widened. One of the dead orcs twitched. When the headless orc twisted its torso, Nathan recoiled in shock. Fortunately, the body’s owner had not returned from the dead searching for its missing head. The person beneath shoved the corpse aside and rose.
“And you—I couldn’t see you, so I hoped you’d found somewhere safe.”
Silver flashed under the arena lights. The figure in heavy armor struggled to their feet with a groan. When they removed their dented helmet, half-dried blood spilled out. It was Aspen.
‘You were alive?’
Nathan felt happier than when he had realized his own survival. Even as blood streamed from his cracked skull, color returned to his face. Aspen, looking irritated, untied their hair. The hairpin issued to female knights clattered to the ground. Freed from the helmet’s usual restraint, their hair flowed like a crimson veil. Blood and sweat stained it, yet the sunset glow that seemed to belong among the clouds remained undimmed.
Nathan thought his exhausted heart might stop altogether. He had seen that face countless times, yet only now did he truly understand. He finally grasped why that noble lady who had fallen for Aspen at a distance had continued her pursuit even after learning Aspen was a man.
Aspen looked at the charging beast, then at Nathan lying at their feet. The Double-winged Knight’s expression hardened with resolve. Nathan, lost in foolish sentiment, flinched. Sensing what was coming, he tried to shout for them to stop. Only a pained gurgle escaped through the blood filling his mouth.
Using the recovered sword as a cane, the knight limped forward and placed themselves between Nathan and the oncoming monster.
“I’m fine. A Double-winged Knight protects an Outer Wing. Not the other way around.”
The ground trembled. The grotesque predator, jaws gaping to reveal crimson flesh, closed in fast, ready to swallow them whole.
He had to stop them. He had to tell them to dodge. Nathan gasped for breath and struggled to rise, but his body betrayed him.
“I don’t know if this will let either of us survive,” Aspen said, sensing the silent plea at their back yet refusing to look. Instead, they raised their sword toward the beast’s approaching maw. “But if you live, don’t give in to anything. Survive and return. Live, and remember me.”