Chapter 6: The Undead Vagnar

Chapter 6 - The Undead Vagnar 

The village square of the Loctrum clan was an expansive arena encircled by tall, weathered stone walls, remnants of an ancient battleground. The ground was hard-packed dirt, marred by countless clashes and soaked with the memories of past combats. In the center stood an enormous, ornate hourglass, its sands dark and foreboding, signaling the ancient timer that would dictate the captives' fates. To the side, an array of primitive yet lethal weapons lay on a wooden rack: swords, spears, axes, and daggers, each glinting ominously under the fading light of the crimson sky.

Almost all the villagers were present, apart from the slaves and the Reapers who were assigned duties. The chief was present, and even Lord Arctic had not been left behind. Seated next to him was Rose, whose heart was in her mouth. The fear for her people put her in despair.

Everyone's focus suddenly turned to the clanging of the gate, and soon enough, the Reapers began leading the captives out of the dungeons.

Most of the villagers, especially the females who were anticipating seeing them unclad, were disappointed because the captives were wearing short skirts that barely covered their nakedness.

They were all forced to kneel right before Lord Arctic, whose face was hidden beneath a hood.

It was hard to decipher what Lord Arctic's face looked like. Not even the Reapers had seen his face, and he didn't come outside often except for special occasions like this.

Eleven was feeling much healthier than yesterday, as were the others. They had all drunk a mixture given to them by one of the Reapers, preparing them for what was yet to come.

“Who’s he and why is it so silent?” Eleven couldn't help but ponder as he tried to steal a glance at Lord Arctic. Then he noticed his gaze was fixed on him.

“Why is he gazing at me? Does he know me from somewhere before?” Questions toiled around Eleven's mind as he watched Urgath step forward. He was one of the four chiefs and the one addressing the crowd.

“Vatics Dunstrem Loctrum Varin,” Urgath began, and silence reigned in the entire arena. He continued chanting loudly, and the crimson sky started getting darker.

“It’s just a simple game,” he said after a long silence, and the crowd started murmuring. They wondered what the game might be.

Rose's heart was pounding fast, anticipating what Lord Arctic had in store for her people. The captives were also restless, their ears alert as they kneeled under the scorching sun.

“The Elves are to fight for their freedom. They’re to go one-on-one against each other until…”

He paused, watching as everyone's attention was on him, including Lady Rose, who was playing with her fingers. Everyone knew what he was about to say. Even the captives were aware that they were doomed.

He inhaled deeply and was about to complete his speech when he got a message from Lord Arctic through a mind-linking technique.

“Our Lord is so merciful. He doesn’t want you Elves to turn against each other, so instead, he has chosen another path for you. You’re all going to face a common opponent at the same time.”

“The rule is quite simple: Only one being will remain standing. Kill or be killed.” He clarified and retreated after finishing his speech.

Eleven’s heart pounded in his chest as the reality of the situation settled over him. Around him, the other captives—his friends, his fellow Elves—were beginning to rise, determination and fear etched into their faces. He could see the resolve in their eyes, a reflection of his own. They were in this together, yet in the next moments, they would become each other's greatest threat.

“Form a circle!” shouted a Reaper, his voice echoing across the village square. The captives obeyed, forming a rough ring in the center of the square. The villagers pressed closer, their eyes glinting with excitement and bloodlust.

A Reaper stepped forward, turning the hourglass. The crowd held its breath as the first grains of sand began to fall.

The captives hesitated for a moment, then surged towards the weapon rack, each selecting a weapon with grim determination. Eleven chose a slender, sharp dagger, its hilt fitting comfortably in his hand. Others grabbed what they could, their choices reflecting their personal fighting styles and instincts for survival.

A loud clang resonated through the square, alerting the captives to the presence of their opponent.

It was a masculine figure who wore a hood over his head. He wielded a massive battle-axe in both hands as he approached the captives, who started trembling at the mere sight of him.

“Let the fight commence.”

In a split second, the masculine being charged at the captives. The first captive clenched his fists around his sword, positioning himself for defense.

But with a single swing of the axe, his head was severed from his neck, causing crimson blood to spurt out.

It was so fast and swift. Rose never saw it coming, and neither did the other Elves. Even the villagers were surprised.

It was dead silent, but not for long, as cheers spread out among the villagers. The captives then realized what was in store for them. They had to kill this opponent, or they would all be killed by him.

Eleven took a good look at his dagger. He didn't even know if he had wielded one in his past life.

He surged forward, charging at the masculine being with all his effort. He leapt high, aiming to stab the being in the chest, but the latter evaded, causing him to hit the ground.

The figure stepped on his head causing his skull to crack then raised his battle-axe and tried to bring it down on Eleven’s back when another captive dived at him, bringing him to the ground.

The captive's hands burst out of his back before the opponent pushed him away. He crashed into another captive, blood oozing from his body.

The tenth captive noticed dark energies emanating from their opponent as he got up with ease.

His cloak had fallen, revealing his face. His eyes were dark and deep, and his head was bald. He had long ears, just like the Elves.

Rose jumped up instantly. “Vagnar!” she called, recognizing him immediately. She was shocked to the core. Right in her presence, Vagnar was stabbed by the Reaper.

“What’s he doing here? How is he alive, and why is he rebelling against the Elves?” she couldn't help but wonder.

“You seem worried, Lady Rose.” She heard the voice of Lord Arctic and looked up at him, but he wasn't saying anything. His gaze was fixed on the ongoing fight.

“Don’t worry. This is just the tip of the iceberg.” She heard his voice again, with more tears streaming down her face. He was speaking to her through the mind.