The Soul Engine Ch. 22 (Original Fantasy) (Patreon)

A/N: The Grand Melee continues. Until it doesn't.

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“H-Hold! I surrender!”

Mikael blinks, barely managing to stop before the tip of his blood-covered blade can go through the eye of the man he’s currently holding by the front of his armor. For a second, he wonders if his opponent is trying to trick him… but no, at the same time as he calls out his surrender, he also drops his weapon to the sand, lifting his hands up to show he’s done.

… The thing is, his current opponent is the leader of the bounty hunting group that Thayla had warned Mikael would be a chore to defeat back at the start of all of this. And yet… here they are. Victory, achieved not at the end of Mikael’s blade, but because the bounty hunter had just… given up. It feels strange, and Mikael won’t lie… there’s an urge to finish it on his terms anyways. It’s just not HIS urge.

Fighting back the impulse from the foreign entities in his head to stab forward, Mikael instead lets out an explosive breath and thrusts the man away from him, letting him land heavily on his ass in the sand. The bounty hunter grunts and then grabs his sword and quickly scrambles back. Rising to his feet, he sheathes his blade and looks around them, causing Mikael to do the same.

The Grand Melee has been going on for a while now. An hour, maybe? Possibly even less. It might not seem like much, but arena fights were usually short, bloody affairs. Even a thousand man free for all wasn’t going to last as long as say, an actual battle on an actual battlefield between two professional armies. It still felt like it’d been an eternity and a half though. The fighting had been constant, and even now Mikael’s blood was up, adrenaline and power pumping through his veins.

Half of the group of bounty hunters are dead. Others have already retired from the field due to earlier injuries. The spellcaster had been Mikael’s first target when he and Thayla had finally fallen upon the group, and he hadn’t survived the initial encounter. But another one, a bow-wielder, was still alive, just downed with his bow shattered into pieces and a wound in his leg.

Moving over to his comrade, the leader helps him to his feet and lets the archer sling his arm over his boss’ shoulders. They look to Mikael then, with the leader’s face twisting into something that’s half-grimace, half-grin.

“You’re a bastard of a fighter, whoever the fuck you are. I’d say you were an orc with that monstrous strength and speed of yours, but you’re missing two feet of height and a foot of width. Not to mention, you had enough of a mind left to show me mercy. This is your victory… good luck with the rest of it.”

Mikael watches as the bounty hunter and his friend limp off of the arena floor together, exiting through the volunteer gate manned by dozens of the City Guard. Plenty of prisoners had tried going through it to escape, but that hadn’t gone well for them. As Zadicus had said, only the volunteers were allowed to leave. Everyone else was trapped.

Though, Mikael had certainly learned that there was nuance to this whole steaming pile of shit over the course of the Melee. He and Thayla had done their absolute best to steer clear of the unarmed and unarmored ‘criminals’ that Zadicus had thrown into the Colosseum, but that hadn’t stopped some of the criminals from coming after them.

It was likely the same thinking that had led that first group of eight to try and go for him and Thayla first. They were only two people, seemingly operating in isolation from everyone else. And if those in chains could get access to better weapons, then they stood a better chance at surviving longer and possibly even winning.

Not everyone that the Lord of Alether had tossed out onto the Colosseum Floor against their will were good, innocent folk. If there were around a hundred volunteer fighters, that meant there had to be around nine hundred criminals to reach Zadicus’ desired one thousand person melee. And some of those criminals were actually criminals. Either the unlucky sort who had gotten rounded up alongside the innocent people in the last few days, or actual convicted criminals who had already been in Zadicus’ prisons waiting for their fights in one of his many other arenas.

Collecting hundreds of people in such a short amount of time… it had quickly become apparent that Zadicus had tugged on every line he had in order to supply the Grand Melee with the numbers he wanted it to have.

Meaning that some of the unarmed and unarmored fools that Mikael and Thayla found themselves sharing the arena floor with were not nice people. They weren’t particularly smart people either, because they were very eager to spill his blood and do unspeakable things to Thayla. Or so they said. It wasn’t like he or Thayla had given them much of an opportunity.

In the end, even if there were nine criminals for every one volunteer, they were still all in the same situation he’d been in when he was first thrust into this world. No armor. Chains locking together their wrists and their ankles. And shoddy excuses for weaponry. Honestly, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad, even with the ones who were trying their damnedest to kill him and take his shit.

However, even if he felt some guilt over their fates… it didn’t stop him from doing what needed to be done. Nor did it stop him from activating the Soul Engine whenever he came across a dead body, regardless of whether it was a volunteer fighter or a ‘criminal’. If they were already dead… well, it wasn’t like they were using their souls anyways. And as Avina had always assured him, the energy he was accumulating would go back to the Weave eventually regardless of him… reappropriating it for a second.

That said, his Soul Engine was beginning to run hot. Really hot. This was hands down the most power that he’d ever had at one time. It was a lot, and Mikael was only getting stronger and stronger as the Grand Melee drew on. Where even the most capable of warriors were starting to tire, growing exhausted from the constant combat, Mikael was the exact opposite. He only got more invigorated the more battles he won.

Looking around himself for the next fight, Mikael jolts when he realizes how still the arena floor has gotten. There’s Thayla nearby, like usual… and nobody else. Nobody still fighting, anyways. Mikael and Thayla are the last two combatants standing. As they look at each other, this realization dawning on them both at around the same time, clapping suddenly sounds out from the Lord’s Podium. Atop his platform, Zadicus uses his sound-enhancing magic to make his clapping resound throughout the entire Colosseum.

Once all eyes are on him, the Lord of Alether grins a wicked grin.

“Well, well. It seems we only have TWO competitors remaining! What a MAGNIFICENT Grand Melee this has been! Doesn’t everyone agree?!”

There’s a brief pause… and then a smattering of clapping and cheering comes from the jampacked stands, mostly from the guards that Zadicus has in place to keep anyone from leaving. Many of the onlookers don’t look all that happy. Perhaps because Zadicus has just forced them to watch their loved ones, friends, and neighbors get butchered on the sands of the Colosseum Floor.

Narrowing his eyes, the scarred Lord sneers.

“I SAID, doesn’t everyone agree?!”

There’s some jostling as guards prod people, until finally a true cheer starts up, a reluctant but forceful roar that shakes the Colosseum. Mikael and Thayla exchange another glance at that, even as Zadicus lets out a vicious laugh.

“Ahah! And to think, it would be the Dame and her hired help at that! Dame Dawnguard, a Knight of the Rose all the way from the Citadel, gracing our Grand Melee with her presence. And the man who she hired to watch her back. But has she bit off more than she could chew? It certainly doesn’t look like he’s inclined to retire the field and give her the Grand Prize, now does it?! It looks as though we’ll be having one last fight on our hands, ladies and gentlemen!”

At Zadicus’ words, Mikael and Thayla finally turn to face each other properly. Speaking in a quiet tone, Thayla gives Mikael an imperceptible nod.

“We have to make it look real.”

Indeed they did. Mikael gives an imperceptible nod back in turn, before lifting his blood-drenched sword and buckler high, causing Thayla to gnash her teeth and cry out at him.

“Treacherous Brigand!”

With that, the Knight of the Rose leaps forward, sword swinging down on him hard. She’s not holding back, nor is she telegraphing her moves. If he didn’t stop her, she would easily kill him… again. However, this time around, things are very, very different. Mikael’s buckler comes up and deflects Thayla’s sword strike, even as his own sword comes in and she barely brings her shield up in time to block him. With that, battle is truly joined between the two of them.

They have to make it look real, like Thayla said. Which means that Thayla can’t hold back, not even a little bit. Mikael on the other hand… he doesn’t dare use his true strength, or else this battle would be over in an instant. He has to hide his true strength at this point, because at this point he doesn’t even know how far his true strength goes.

Luckily, he and Thayla have been sparring with each other every night for weeks now. Long enough that Mikael knows Thayla’s strength, speed, and stamina fairly well. He might not know his upper limits at the moment, but he knows how to regulate his speed and the power behind his blows in order to match hers.

Going at it, they dance around each other in the middle of the Colosseum, a hushed crowd watching them duel, seemingly to the death. To everyone else, perhaps it seems inevitable. And it is, really… just not in the way they likely think it’s inevitable. This bout between him and Thayla is as one-sided as the battle they had back when Mikael was first dragged into this world. This time, however, it’s one-sided in HIS favor.

To everyone else though, Zadicus hopefully included, their duel is one of strength and stalwart defense against speed and swiftness. Mikael darts around Thayla, using his mobility to dodge her strikes and his buckler to deflect the blows he seemingly can’t slip away from. Meanwhile, Thayla sets her stance and refuses to yield an inch, her golden armor shining despite the splatters of enemy blood coating it from helm to boot.

The goal is for them to seem evenly matched… but the goal is also for one of them to win and get in to see Zadicus personally. And ultimately, that was always going to be Mikael. With a sudden burst of speed, he makes a grand show of using Thayla’s own strength and armor against her, abruptly ducking down and sweeping her legs out from under her while she’s mid-step.

Thayla goes down hard, falling to her back in the middle of the sand as a loud gasp sounds out from the onlooking crowd. In an instant, Mikael has kicked Thayla’s sword from her hand and is holding his own sword to her throat. Dead silence fills the air as everyone waits to see what he’ll do next. After a beat, Mikael finally speaks, hoping that the gruff tone he gives himself, the distance between the two of them, and the metal mask he wears will keep Zadicus Quinn from recognizing his voice.

“Yield.”

His modulated voice resounds out through the Colosseum for a moment before finally, Thayla nods.

“… I yield.”

Given the… story that they’re trying to spin of sorts, Mikael doesn’t help her to her feet. After all, she did label him a ‘traitorous brigand’ before they began fighting. They’d let everyone else put the pieces together and be proud of themselves for ‘figuring it all out’. Instead, Mikael turns away from her, turning his back on the Knight of the Rose and facing Zadicus up on his platform.

The Lord of the City has a wide grin on his scarred face as he claps again, the sound amplified once more. Behind Mikael, he hears Thayla scramble to her feet, grabbing her sword and departing the field. It’s just him standing there now. The last man standing, just as Zadicus had decreed it.

“Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! Well done, good sir, well done! To defeat Dame Dawnguard herself… ah, well, I suppose she didn’t see that coming, now did she?! Ahaha!”

The smile doesn’t quite reach Zadicus’ eyes however, and Mikael suddenly feels a little concerned.

“You truly are a worthy victor of this Grand Melee. However… there is one minor issue keeping me from naming you as our Champion. Just one small thing.”

Mikael freezes in place, even as the Soul Engine thrums under his chestplate. Had the City Lord figured out who he was? Had they been wrong to think they could get anything past the man? Had he noticed Mikael’s energy collection throughout the battle, and correctly deduced that it was Avina’s work? Or had he managed to put two-and-two together and correctly deduce that Mikael had to be his faceless arsonist, burning down his warehouses and ruining his good name among merchants both local and foreign?

Either way, if Mikael had been made, he would have to fight his way out. He had never been more powerful, but between the number of City Guards that were surrounding the Colosseum, as well as Bula and whatever other magics Zadicus himself could bring to bear, Mikael wasn’t sure he liked his chances. Especially not when he’d just had to beat his back-up black and blue to ‘win’ this damn thing in the first place.

Still, he wasn’t going to give up. He would-

“You see, my friend… while you ARE the last man standing, you aren’t the only living combatant left in the arena.”

Wait, what? Mikael’s racing mind skids to a stop as Zadicus’ eyes, rather than focusing on HIM, instead gaze out across the arena floor. To the numerous criminals who, while defeated and definitely out of the fight with various types of injuries, are still alive.

In that moment, even before Zadicus says it, Mikael realizes with dawning horror that the small-minded, short-sighted, and impulsive City Lord hasn’t figured out who Mikael is at all. Not in any way, shape, or form. But that doesn’t make it any better to hear the next words out of the bastard’s mouth.

“I’m afraid there are still many, many surviving opponents between you and your prize, my friend! Clean up the riff-raff and we can discuss how you would like to receive your winnings.”

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A/N: Zadicus: "I'm not just a bad guy... I'm an IDIOTIC bad guy!"

Mikael: *surprised Pikachu face*

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