Dorian woke up while two guards carried him between themselves. “Urgh. Wha… What happened?” A piercing pain shot up from his right wrist while his throat burned terribly from speaking.

“He broke your wrist and choked you out, after you tried to knock him over with your shield. You don’t remember?” The man to his left said.

They had apparently carried him all the way to the exit of the arena that lead down into the dungeons. Dorian’s head hurt quite a bit as well. “I can stand myself. Let me go!”

The two guards did as they were told, but caught him when he collapsed on his weak legs. “Or not.” The one to his right spoke. He turned to look back into the arena. “The next ones are probably going to join you soon.”

Dorian looked at the mysterious man the Albae had told them to fight. He evaded a spear with an agile step, before catching an arrow out of the air like it was the easiest thing in the world. When the man broke the thing with two fingers a shudder ran down his back. He really fought that?

Sighing in relief that he was still alive, he asked the guards. “What now?”

“Now you go to the Albae for further orders. We are only supposed to gather the defeated as best we can and send them there as soon as we can.” The gruff man on his right spoke.

They let him go again and this time Dorian remained on his feet. His hand hurt terribly. “What kind of monster is he?” He asked, while observing the fight. His former opponent had dashed towards the woman, evading spears and arrows with easy, now knocking her out with a flat palm to the forehead. She fell like a puppet that had its strings cut.

“At least he isn’t killing anyone. He is clearly on our side. The Albae probably force him into it as much as they force us.” The man to his left said quietly.

“Get going now. If that Alb sees you lingering too long he might start killing children. Hurry before I kick you down the stairs myself!” Yelled the gruff man to his right. Dorian nodded and hurried downwards to the dungeons.

From there he climbed upstairs into the viewer ranks again. He got more and more nervous with every step. Facing the Albae was without any doubt, always a bad thing. Would they kill him for losing? What was their objective here, anyway? Was it all part of a sick, twisted game? Not to forget going past those horrifying black, horse like creatures again. He had once seen tham bite a whole shoulder out of a man, those things were pure evil.

When he reached the end of the stairs, two grim city guards told him that he had to go towards the fortress as well. Some of the children in the ranks were eyeing him with worried expressions. He felt guilty. He had failed them. If he beat that man… No, he had no chance from the start. He had been doomed to fail all on his own. The guards took his armor, that would serve a later fighter and sent him on his way.

Dorian had always hated those highly ranked guards. They sucked up to the Albae, doing their every bidding. Were they even on the side of the citizens? Bitter, Dorian walked out of the arena.

The two nightmares were resting in the courtyard, and he made sure to walk around them while putting the largest distance possible in between them. Half bitten bones littered the ground and gave a grim reminder that they were carnivores. When he entered through the heavy wooden door, all his worries faded away in an instant.

A beautiful blonde woman was standing in the middle of the room. Her smile pierced his mind and shattered it completely. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the fight, not the children or the city. Not even his own life itself. All he wanted to do for the rest of his life was to stand here, right now and look at… her.

Dorian had been in love before, a charming girl in his youth. But this… this was stronger. He felt his heart ache in pain as he did not even dare approach this beautiful woman. Desire grew in his body and he finally made a step forward.

The woman stood up and eyed him out of the black abyss of her eyes. This staggered him for a second, before the sound of her voice took firm control of his mind again.

“Give me your heart.~” She whispered in a melodic voice, that could have made god himself smile. His newfound goddess have him a sharp black knife.

Dorian hesitated for a brief moment, before she spoke again. “Now.~”

He jammed the knife in his upper body, trying to cut himself open to adhere to her wished. He had to give her his heart. Now. It was detrimental that he did. She wished for it! He needed to do it. Right this very moment.

His ribcage proved too big of a challenge however, he could not get his hand in properly to grasp his heart. Dorian felt her gaze on him. What would she think of him, now that he failed to do what she asked? Despair weighted down on him and made him even more aggressive in the pursuit of her wish. He broke his ribs with the handle of his blade, the pain hardly felt anymore.

Where he took the strength from, he did not know. But he cut out his heart and presented her with it, while falling on his knees. She smiled. And Dorian was glad. She was satisfied.

The she took his heart and threw it away. It was at this moment that he regained his senses. He had been fooled. Pain came crashing down on him and he knew that he was dying.

The blonde Alb reached for a green stone that rested on a nearby table and jammed it into his chest.

Minvávriel frowned. How was this Thasun Torréi, a mere human, able to resist her to this extend, when she could bring human men to rip out their own hearts for her?

It was insulting, but now she at least knew that it was not her powers, but his. For this insult alone, she would end his life, that much she swore to herself.

She let go of that disgusting human heart and cast it aside. She grabbed the green, demonic stone with a piece of cloth and jammed it into his chest. Immediately his wounds closed up and the human presence faded into the background.

The man rose, eying his body, that now glowed in green veins, draped all over his body. His eyes opened with a shining dark green light. Then the demon spoke. “This body is weak! It cannot hold me! Bring me another! Stronger! FREE ME!” The voice was deep, dark and full of demand.

Then the human body crumbled under the magical pressure, the body drying up, the hands and face soon resembling a mummified corpse, before turning into ash and falling apart in a storm of green ember. Only the stone itself remained.

Minvávriel picked the cold green stone up with a piece of cloth again, taking care to not touch it by accident. She had the growing suspicion that the demon only took all those bodies in order to grow in power, and not actually desired a stronger vessel. If that was true, she would just have to keep going, feeding it until it was ready to stay.

Only then she would be able to control it with the necklace of Lâendraéll. The demon did not know of its existence, of course, otherwise it would never come out to play in the first place.

It disgusted Minvávriel to walk around with a Elven necklace embedded on the inside of her chest armor. But it was necessary to bring them doom.

She stepped towards the window, watching as another man and a woman approached the fortress. Soon. Soon her plan would fall into place.

Thasun had lost count of how many people he had fought. At first the fights had been easy. A single warrior. Two. Three.

But their numbers kept increasing and soon it was common for him to fight more than ten or more than twenty. They came organised, well drilled. Sometimes a few bowmen in the background aiming for a lucky shot. It became more and more challenging with every new round the Albae sent at him. Luckily not all of them were warriors, the rather briefly trained youngsters and woman in their ranks created many openings for him.

Still, he was tired for quite some time now and the new arrivals looked fresh as always. This time there were six warriors, clad in heavy chainmail armor, sword and shield. There were nine young looking fighters as well, bearing leather armor and long spears. They would surely try and surround him against a wall again. Thasun sighed. At least they knew what they were doing.

Seven woman in the back were helping out as well. Two carried javelins, four were armed with bows. And one, to Thasuns surprise carried a heavy battle axe. She looked like she could swing it too.

Thasun gathered his strength again. A plan to beat the formation already forming in his head. Then one of the more experienced looking members of his opponents stepped forward. He threw his sword and shield after Thasun. Both of which missed without him having to sidestep at all.

“I will fight you with my bare hands!” He stepped forward lurking closer to Thasun with his fists raised high. A oddly brave gesture for an older man, like this one.

Thasun was both confused and baffled at the same time. This man had lost all sense of reason. Very clearly. He would feel bad to knock him unconscious, but what choice did he have?

The old man inched closer and closer until he was almost in Thasuns reach. Then he spoke again with a quiet voice, while throwing a few jabs against the swordmaster. “Listen, the Alb with the bow has joined the second one in the fortress. He won't hear what we talk. The guards they posted in the ranks between the children will be taken down by our allies when you knock me out.”

Thasun evaded his punches with ease and pretended to hit him in the gut a few times, drawing closer. “You want to revolt?”

The old man let out a roar and kept on punching before he continued to talk quickly. “Yes, we have a lot of men posted as lookouts upstairs. We will know if he comes back. You can take him on, right?”

Thasun stepped past him and attack one of the other warriors, took his sword and dashed away from the group, before letting loose a few long ranged attack into the viewing area. His Zenzen strikes injured and downed multiple guards that had been posted by the Albae. Then he turned towards the old man. “Your plan better have more steps to it than this.”

His former opponents, how happily smiling and two women crying out in relieve swarmed towards him and thanked him. Thasun waved them off. “This will be noticed. Do you have a way to escape the castle?”

One of the younger men answered. “Yes. Down in the dungeons there are hidden paths that lead out of the arena. It’s a sewer system, that is rarely used now that these monsters live in the fortress.”

Thasun nodded grimmly. A single small exit. This would take a long time. “Don’t have any illusions. This will not be easy. Organise your people to cheer or make noise from time to time, the Albae might not watch, but they will surely be listening.”

The old man nodded grimmly. “Alright. Can you stall them?”

The swordmaster shook his head. “I can fight them, sure. But against both of them I will lose for sure. I might be able to stall them for twenty minutes? Maybe longer.” He had no delusions about that.

“Those who lost to you never returned from their visit to the fortress.” A woman said quietly.

“We can only assume that they are dead. These pointy eared bastards are more evil than anything I have ever seen in my life. They don’t care. They might kill everyone as part of some game.” Thasun said with a frown. “I will need a few men to stall them with me. Twenty minutes won’t save all those people.”

The men in the group immediately wanted to volunteer, but Thasun only chose the older, and more experienced members. They quickly ascended the stairs up to the viewer ranks, while countless children slowly climbed down. A lot of them stayed behind to cheer whenever one of the men told them to and the atmosphere from before was more or less the same. Hopefully the Albae would not notice.

Thasun had to hurt the men quite a bit before sending them towards the fortress. He broke legs and rips, as well as jaws and noses. They were all grimly accepting of their fate and did everything they could in order to buy time. The evacuation would take at least an three hours. Thasun insisted on them doing it in a single hour, and that they collapsed the stairwell in order to slow down the pursuing Albae. They would catch on for sure, it was only a matter of time now.

Thasun wanted them to escape, but even more so, he wanted to fight the Albae. He felt that he was very close to that fourth level, that the great master possessed and with a little luck he would reach it while fighting them.

The next half hour he spent meditating and recovering as much of his strength as possible, while the citizens brought him the best swords that they could find. They clearly put a lot of faith into him, as they laid down three black swords before him. They were forged from durak steel and apparently very well made.

“We stole them from the former royal treasury, when the Albae took over here… They did not care, since the blades are badly forged in their mind. But it's the best we could find.” The old man said.

Thasun nodded as he raised the dark bastard sword in front of him. It was different from his katana and the other two weapons were short swords that were rather broad with a thicker end to carry weight. “What is your name?”

The old man smiled. “Eirin Khalrin. My father was a Lahn of the lands to the east of Khalduran.”

Thasun nodded. “This is Khalduran? We are further east than I thought.”

Eirin frowned. “You did not know where you are?”

“No. The Albae caught me in Sandrei. In Zenshin. That was about a year ago?” Thasun mused aloud. “I’m not sure, I woke up down here in the dungeons.”

The old man looked at him with a sad look. “The war against Zenshin…” He paused before he continued with hesitation.

“That… that was six years ago.”