Deacon avoided an on coming lance of super-heated magma by diving to the side. Rolling up to his feet in a ready stance he could see his fiery opponent mock yawning. Every now and then Deacon felt a tickle against his aura. His assumption was someone or even Caphida himself was probing at his aura trying to find some weakness to exploit. If it wasn’t for Old Pai Mei’s instruction this fight might have been over already.

“Come on. I saw you tear about that beast and those men. Let’s see what the great Champion of Chimera can do against a real competitor,” Caphida declared to the crowd as he unwound the chains around his torso. They split into two and he began spinning them on either side of his body. Where they hit the ground, they left scorch marks in the sand.

Deacon had no choice. He could no longer hold back band his reserves were low. Using Nether Beam to probe his opponents defenses, a lance green cold energy struck one of the swinging chains as Caphida swung it to intercept the attack. The chain became brittle, and links started to break. Caphida squinted in Deacon’s direction before reheating the chain. The nether ice began to melt off.

“That’s no water monk attack. It barely had any impact. Did you learn your aura control from some skill book?” Caphida asked as he whipped the chain in his off hand across Deacon’s face. It left an unsightly welt across his cheek. Caphida decided to press the attack at that point.

Lava erupted around Deacon at various points. It wasn’t an attack as much as it corralled Deacon into Caphida’s effective range. If it weren’t for Deacon’s enhanced Speed stat, he would have been burnt to a crisp already. Fifty five soul energy left to use sparing. Maybe if he rushed him, he might be able to paralyze a limb. Deacon thought the idea was risky, but he was running out of options. His health bar was at one hundred and twenty five percent now. He could risk a little damage. After the next swipe from the right hand chain, Deacon sprinted toward Caphida only to find out within five feet of the man was a scorching barrier of heat that burnt his forearms and forced him back. Deacon paid dearly for his lack of tactics. Both chains whipped into him sending him flying back first into one of the pools of magma. His shirt offered little protection as it burned away. Deacon tried getting back to his feet as quickly as possible but that just earned him a boot to the face from Caphida. He was now sprawled on the sand face down ten feet from the nearest magma puddle. His shirt was gone and his back was a mess of burn scars. Caphida was gesturing at Deacon while the crowd booed him.

Between the magma pool, the chain attacks, and the boot to his face his health bar was under ninety five percent now. He was going to die if he didn’t do something soon. Deciding to go for broke, Deacon switched his source of power.

“The work continues.”

His eyes immediately shifted colors from pale green to drab yellow. A crown matching the color of his eyes bled out from his temples. It circled around his head sprouting five sharp points. Deacon then felt a lack of aura surrounding him now. Battered and bruised he got up to his feet and looked into Caphida’s eyes.

“You dropped your aura protection? I guess you want to die. Where did you get that crown? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Waive goodbye to your adoring public,” Caphida said with a sneer.

“Count every grain of sand in this arena.” Deacon commanded. He then cut off the expenditure of soul energy around the fifteen percent mark of his soul bar. Caphida’s body jerked up ram rod straight. His eyes went wide. Then Caphida got down on his hands and knees and began counting out loud. The two men were in the center of the arena battlegrounds, and it might take him years to finish this task.

“Well esteemed guests, it looks like Caphida is busy making a sandcastle or something. No idea what’s going on down there. The Champion of Chimera seems to be walking back toward the corpse of the Gilgerith. No idea what he needs on that side of the arena, but they appear to have settled their differences. Oh it looks like the Crimson Summit school is none too happy about it. We would like to remind everyone that we have two independent betting houses running the bookies at the end of your aisle’s tonight splitting the coliseum in half down the middle. Please take your marks to the appropriate wager booths,” The announcer informed.

Deacon felt like a bag of hot shit left out on the deck of an Arizona summer home. His back ached and he could basically feel the crisping skin. The announcer did remind him of one of his open quests.

Quest Complete: Houses of Worship- Chimera would like you to consecrate new locations in his name. 5 of 5 complete. Rewards the Summon Soul ability.

New Ability Learned: Summon Soul- You may summon a soul you collected back into this world. Cost is variable depending on the strength of the soul. Soul strength ranges from Common, Uncommon, Rare, Greater, and Deific.

Deacon read the prompt and grinned. He was hurrying toward the Gilgerith corpse when he heard the smashing of glass. He looked up to see a winged person descending from the top of the dome holding another humanoid at its side. It landed softly with both feet on the ground. Then it dropped the other person unceremoniously to the ground with a thud. There was chain attached to that person that lead back to the winged figures left hand standing before Deacon. It had one black wing and one white wing. There was cloth covering his face with a symbol written in blood. It’s arms and legs looked stretched out but had tight corded muscle.

“Deacon. I have finally found you. Say hello to your friend slave.” It said to the body on the ground to it’s left. The slave said nothing. So it received a kick for its defiance.

“Look I don’t know what kind of happy horse shit this is, but I’m not into it. No kink shaming from me but this doesn’t look like the time or the place pal.” Deacon said back peddling. He had no interest in what was happening now. He felt like shit and just wanted to go.

“Leaving so soon. I understand not recognizing me anymore. I’ve gone through some changes. But her, you’ll break her heart.” It spoke with venom in it’s voice.

Deacon stopped in his tracks. He could see the woman, he now realized, was wearing a torn sleeping gown. Her hair was roughly chopped like someone took a pair of scissors to a barbie. There were tattoos adorning her arms and legs. Visible through the tears in her clothing. Also visible were defensive wounds. Her head lifted up to meet Deacon’s gaze.

“Sophie?”

“That’s right. Now that you remember her our little reunion can continue. It’s my turn now. Do the words, I’m going to gut you, ring any bells?” It said with a wheezing laugh.

“Efimeo…Cullep! You son of bitch. Let her go or I swear I’ll—ahhh!” Deacon was cut off as Efimeo’s right hand sung a strange looking sword down toward Deacon’s mid-section with a flash of light. Deacon fell back noting his health bar was in the teens.

“The fates call this blade Manslaughter. It does double damage males of the species. Now walk back over here and get what’s coming to you. Also I have agents all around the coliseum and an army of summoned demons. If you don’t give yourself willingly to me, all in attendance are going to die,” Efimeo said cackling wildly knowing his words were being carried to the crowd through the mage glass.

At that the stands erupted into a panic. The first people to reach the now magically blocked exits being crushed by the stampede of others. Fights broke out in the stands as agents of Efimeo were revealed and they started taking out the strongest among the spectators.

Deacon was out of options but there was one thing he could do. He made eye contact with Sophie and initiated a party. It connected. Her eyes were bright and hopeful as her health started to tick up, then she frowned as she saw Deacon running toward the Gilgerith.

“Your champion has decided to save his own skin rather than sacrifice himself to save all of you. How completely expected from him.” Efimeo taunted as Deacon dove over the monsters corpse. Efimeo yanked on Sophies chain to pull her in close.

“He’s going to kill you.” Sophie said between clenched teeth.

“I doubt that very much. This plan was meticulously put together. Once I’m done with him, I’ll drop you off at the nearest brothel where you belong.” Efimeo said not evening sparring her a glance.

Deacon ran out from around the corpse of the Gilgerith. The screaming from the audience had gotten louder. He had a plan but even he didn’t like it. His soul energy was on its last dregs and the regen afforded to him from being in the party with Sophie would not eclipse the damage that sword could do. This was going to be his biggest Hail Mary play yet. He jogged back over to Efimeo and Sophie.

“Don’t! You need to run,” Sophie pleaded.

“Be silent.” Efimeo said yanking the chain up with one hand to choke Sophie.

Deacon used Spectral Dash to close the distance and Efimeo ran him through with the sword. Even Efimeo himself was shocked by what just happened. Then Efimeo looked at Deacon’s right hand that rested on Sophie’s collar. The collar disintegrated and Sophie rolled to her feet looking much healthier than when she arrived. Her arms lit up like the Griswold’s Christmas lights. Magic swords, lighting strikes, fireballs and fully armored knights sprung from her arms. They were all manifestations of her tattoo’s, and she was going to use all of them. Efimeo was on the back foot. He flew up into the air to avoid the energy based attacks while the inky knights formed a shield wall around Sophie and the now prone form of Deacon that slid off of Efimeo’s sword. Sophie, now having some space from Efimeo, knelt down to speak to Deacon. Green blood was pouring from his ruined body.

“Why? Why did you come back?” Sophie asked from tear filled eyes. Deacon just coughed up green blood and went still as the grave.