Mage Mangler -(Crucible of Ascension)

Chapter 31 – Earl


An hour later, I was called out for my second fight. I strode out under a blanket of confused cheers from the patrons, along with a few slaps on the back. 'Don't fuck about this time.' 'Make sure you win it.' 'I've got money riding on you.' Were the most common utterances as I weaved through them.

Climbing into the ring I came face to face with my opponent. I'd already faced him in the first round. As wide as a barn door, with rough, thick skin the color of granite. I distinctly remembered him being incredibly slow. I'd circled around him, rocking his head like a punch ball until he dropped to the canvas without scoring a single punch back. It was going to be tough to make this look even semi-convincing.

The bell rang and he plodded toward me while I pounced forward on my toes, straight into his exploratory jab.

Hardly believing his good fortune, he was shrewd enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and followed up with a thunderous right hand.

I rode the blow, adding a little extra height and spin to my acrobatic demise before landing face down on the canvas. The sweet sound of a screaming Archon and an orchestra of boos from enraged punters filled my senses.

The ring masters voice was full of strain as he declared the walking block the victor. Once that was done I crawled up the ropes until I was standing unsteadily in the corner, a thin trickle of blood ran down my temple from the right hand but I was otherwise unharmed.

A livid Alassar was ringside, screaming. "Fix! I will not stand for this. That fight was thrown again. I will not stand for this!"

Cero was in the ring now, hands up, trying to appease the Archon. "I'm sorry Scion Aronel, but it appeared to me, and from the damage Earl has taken, that he was fairly beaten. It may have been a lucky punch, but sometimes that's all it takes in the Pit."

"No. I want him disqualified! We all know he can fight better than this! He stood toe-to-toe with a Level 20 Ogrid!"

The crowd was listening again and Cero raised his voice enough to make sure they all heard him. "Perhaps that's why he is not at his best. Those injuries took a heavy toll. He hasn't trained since that day."

Alassar wasn't even listening. He was glaring daggers at me waiting to rant some more. "Nonsense! I want this man disqualified. This whole tournament is beginning to gall!"

"Yeah! Someone shouted from the back. I want my bet back!"

I was still watching Alassar and saw his eyes light up at the words. "Yes! I want my bet back! I shall never bet again on these Foundry fights after this debacle."

Cero shook his head. "That's not how it works. Not without evidence."

"I have the evidence of my own eyes," Alassar shouted. "If my money is not returned, we will burn this place and out and I will make sure the Foundry never returns to this moon. Now where is the bookkeeper, and where is my money!"

Cero whistled across the room, pointing at someone. "Enuin, can you please pay Scion Aronel his money back."

The grunir bookie scrabbled through his desk, and Alassar marched over full of self-righteous indignation. I desperately wanted to kill him and sod the consequences. When he started to shout at the bookie I went to climb through the ropes. I was halted by Cero. "It's working." He hissed under his breath. Don't fuck it up."

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I paused. There was a time, back on Earth when I would have kept going, but on Earth, I couldn't get any tougher. I'd already won all the titles I'd get to fight for. I'd already fucked up all of my personal relationships. Going after him would have been something to get the blood racing. To feel alive in a boring existence.

Now though? Life was good. I could get stronger. I had things to aim for. For the first time in a long time a little bit of restraint could serve me well.

I stayed where I was and nodded at the Unalaran, then looked back over to Alassar and his cronies as they surrounded the Grunir. After some harsh words from Alassar, he finally handed over a sack of money.

With that, the Archon prick looked around the room once more. "There will be a reckoning for this! Today marks the end of our favorable relationship with this pit." His eyes landed on me. "And you, Earl Henshaw, I look forward to our next meeting. I will put a collar on you and name you Tarata! The name we give to the runts of our dog…"

"Fucking hell!" I shouted over him. "We get it. You're angry. No need for your life story, fella."

For a moment I thought he was just about to go apeshit in there. He looked around the cavern and I reckoned he seriously considered it. Thankfully, for my relationship with the Siroth, common sense got the better of him. Better to wait a cycle and come back with soldiers to really drive his point home. So like the coward he was, he stormed from the cavern with his entourage.

After the drama of his departure died down, the crowd erupted into their own indignation.

Cero, still in the ring waved his arms to get them to calm down and get their attention. "You don't need your money back. You don't need to be angry at Earl, you just need to listen.

"It's just came to our attention that there's been a mix-up and Earl wasn't supposed to be facing Gorla as he already beat him in the first round. Earl's next opponent should be Rel Lorfain."

Confusion reigned, muttering spread through the crowd as people tried to make sense of what was going on.

"Earl, are you feeling up to fighting again with that result stricken from the official record?"

"Sure am," I said, folding my arms with a wide grin. The audience didn't know what to make of it apart from one eager beaver.

"What about the Archon? He doesn't know and he took his money back."

"If anyone would like to run out and tell him of the mix up you are more than welcome. We run an honest pit here. Or we could get on with Earl's sanctioned bout?"

There was a chorus of laughter throughout as the patrons slowly guessed what had gone on. They didn't know why it had happened, but it appeared to be unanimous that getting one over on the Archon lord was a good thing.

Rel Lorfain was a level 15 grunir and despite having won his first fight he looked deeply uncomfortable as he entered the ring.

As he approached the center he put his guard up so high he was practically peering through his gloves.

"You okay?" I asked moving to join him in the center.

"Of course I'm not. You're going to batter me aren't you?"

"I mean, yeah, that's the general idea."

"I mean because you threw the last two fights."

"It's been officially agreed that I didn't throw them."

He made a sound like he was clearing his throat, "I'm a fighter lad. I know a thrown fight when I see one. But you got whatever it is you wanted when the Archons left, so I'm guessing you'll be looking for blood."

I shrugged. "Yeah, you're right. But I've been learning. Since I've been here," I rolled my neck with a loud crack. "I've managed to hold back on killing for …"

The bell rang to start the fight and it appeared as though Rel had called it right. All of the pent up aggression that had built up from throwing the two fights boiled over from nowhere. I clobbered him with a relentless combination until he fell back to the ropes, where I threw a filthily sweet uppercut that burst through his high guard, smashed into his face and lifted him clear of his feet.

He'll never know how lucky he was that he went through the ropes and the ring master was there screaming my victory before I could follow.

My next two fights to qualify were just as quick and between the Ring master and Cero, and maybe because I'd let off a lot of my murderous steam against the lucky Grunir, they both survived the encounter… More or less.

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