City of Fallen Souls: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 3) by Jez Cajiao (fb2 epub reader .txt) 📕

the slaves that you freed in the market, and some that joined us as we returned to the arena, believing that we were their best chance at freedom or a second chance at life,” he replied calmly.

“But… Mal’s gonna go apeshit,” I muttered, facepalming. “There’s no way we can keep this quiet…”

“He already did,” Bane said, watching me carefully. “Yesterday, remember?”

“I didn’t realize there were so many…” I said.

“Well, we all accepted that you were a bit… dazed… yesterday, but your speech was enough. Mal and the others are still with us, and of the fresh volunteers, most have been used to spread the word, bringing in people to meet with Oracle and Barrett. Lydia has had her squad training with the Legionnaires.”

“How’s that going?” I asked, wincing.

“Surprisingly well,” Bane replied sanguinely. “The Legion were careful with them at first, as it seems these Legionnaires are some of their best; they’re the quick reaction force that gets used for monster sightings, mainly. They started out being a bit… unimpressed with the squad, or so I hear. Tang said they changed their minds and adopted them when they realized they were your personal squad. They seem determined to ‘beat them into shape,’ as Augustus put it.”

“Augustus…” I said, shaking my head. “Okay, get me to the arena and Oracle. I need to see what’s going on.”

Bane moved to the door ahead of me, cracking it and glancing outside before opening it wider and leading the way. All talk ceased in the corridor as Miren and Lydia got to their feet, along with four Legionnaires.

As I stepped out into the corridor, all four immediately clapped their fists to their chest plates in unison, dropping to one knee. I froze, thoroughly freaked out by the formal salute, and glanced at Lydia, who shrugged.

I swallowed, returning the salute, then gestured for them to get up.

“Thank you,” I said to the Legionnaires as they started to stand. “But please, I don’t want that kind of response normally. I’m… pretty informal…”

“Yes, my lord,” one of the Legionnaires replied, straightening. “We will strive to be less…formal. Now, what can we do for you?” The other Legionnaires turned back out with crisp movements, watching the corridor and the doors leading from it with barely concealed ferocity.

“I need to get to the Arena, find our people, and find out what the hell is going on,” I said, and the Legionnaire nodded to me.

“Yes, my lord. I’m Centurion Grizz. We know the way. I’d ask that you allow us to take the lead and the rear, with yourself and your party in the middle. Is this acceptable?” he asked, and I nodded, gesturing to him to carry on. “Thank you, sir.”

I swallowed my instinctual desire to tell him to knock it off with the ‘Lord’ and ‘Sir’ shit, figuring I needed to allow at least some of it, since it was an authority thing for the Tower.

Grizz and another Legionnaire moved to the front of the group, leading us, and I fell in behind him, with Bane at my side. Miren and Lydia fell into step behind us and the remaining two Legionnaires brought up the rear.

We set off down the hall, passing two more cross-connecting corridors before going deeper underground. Three flights of stairs and a couple of hurried conversations in back corridors, and a flustered serving girl led us out onto a private interior balcony that looked down into a sand-filled arena.

The first thing that hit me as we entered the private booth was the wall of sound. I’d been hearing the noise grow as we descended, but down here, hemmed in by stone and lifted by the crowd’s love of blood and gore, it was a hundred times louder.

I could barely hear myself think as I moved forward, finding Mal and Soween looking down, watching the fighters below.

I moved up next to them, nodding in return as they nodded a greeting to me, and looked down.

There were three men in the Arena; one, in full Legion plate and looking like a blonde bear that had been shaved and squeezed into it, was Augustus. The other two were smaller men, one with a trident and net, and the other wielding twin daggers. Both were dressed in tight leather, with their faces covered by what I could only describe as ‘gimp’ masks.

I felt my lips pull back from my teeth in discomfort as they circled Augustus, and I just hoped they only wanted to fight him…

“Welcome to the Arena!” Mal shouted at me, and I turned to regard him, surprised by how calm he seemed. He picked up on my concern and shook his head. “Don’t worry. He’s in no danger from them.” I nodded uncertainly and looked back down in time to see the trident flash out towards Augustus, who bore a massive shield on his left arm and a short spear in his right hand.

He deflected the trident easily, sweeping it aside with his shield and turning to keep the dagger wielder in sight, then stabbed out, catching the first guy in the lower leg. sinking the leaf-bladed tip in and yanking it back out in one smooth, fluid motion.

The man screamed, backing away, and he followed, slamming his spear into the ground, point first, deep enough that it stuck and trapped the trailing edge of the net that the man had been carrying.

The Centurion Primus spun, leaving the hamstrung, heavily bleeding first fighter and ran at the second, driving him back with his shield.

The second man tried a few quick stabs at the shield, all of which glanced off. Augustus lashed out with his gladius, the blade darting forward in three fast strikes to open up the inside of his opponent’s left wrist, slice the top of his thigh, and then to sink into his throat.

A quick, efficient twist of the blade finished the man off, and he turned, jogging with a jingling trot back to the injured first fighter as the second collapsed behind him.

The