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

“I guessed. You can always see it in someone’s eyes when they’re reading those damn things.”

“You don’t like them?” I asked him, and he shrugged.

“I just think a man doesn’t need to be told if he’s improved or not; he should know.”

“Where I come from, people would disagree, mate.” I disagreed, thinking back to Earth. “With nothing to track growth, people ignore it. I’ve gained more in the last few months here than in my entire life back there. Millions would jump at the chance to be here, even with all the mental monsters everywhere.”

“Mental monsters?” he asked, confused. “Like the Drachim?”

“Ah, no. Sorry, mate, no idea what that is, I meant ‘mad’ or ‘crazy’. Just a carryover from my world’s speech, that’s all.”

“Well…” Augustus was cut off as a gong sounded outside, and two skinny men ran out of opposite doors on the arena. They sprinted at each other, screaming and swinging their weapons, and we all crowded forward to watch.

It was over in seconds, one of them tripping and sprawling full length in the sand. His opponent leapt up and brought his sword down, stabbing it through the fallen man’s back with a sickening crunch. The blade audibly smashed bones as it pierced all the way through to hold him impaled, screaming, while the victor tried to yank it free. It lasted a mere handful of seconds before the fallen man died from massive blood loss and shock. The Legionnaires all grunted in disapproval over the sloppy attacks.

“Is it normally like that?” I asked the room at large.

“No. the poor are given the chance to fight for money if they wish, but only the weakest take it. Generally, those with no hope. It is a sad and shameful thing,” Nigret said, his voice low and grim.

“So, it’s pretty much either professional gladiators, or poor fools, is that it?” I asked, and I got a snort from my left.

“They also allow monster matches,” Grizz said. “Fools go out and capture wild beasts, often losing people to do it, and then they sell them to the arena. Teams of fighters are made up, and they go in to face whatever creature’s been caught. Sometimes it’s a bear or a Fellbeast; other times, it’ll be a damn vampire or a Chimera, and the teams all die until a group of professional gladiators is brought in.”

“Sounds fun,” I said, and he shook his head.

“I’ve not heard any rules against using a monster in these fights with you, Sir, so watch yourself.”

“Well, fuck.” I watched as a couple of people dragged the corpse out of the arena, while the winner frantically collected the handful of coins that had been thrown in for him as a reward.

“Exactly,” Augustus agreed. “They will probably hold them back until their last chance to win, as they’re expensive to capture and keep, and they can earn a fortune in the arena normally. The arena master should know if they’re moving monsters in, though, and there have been none so far. Two fights to go, Jax, then we move onto phase two of your plan, so don’t make any mistakes here, okay?” he said, and I nodded.

“I’ll be careful.”

“Good man. Also, remember the fighting order is officially drawn by lots, so they could be in any order. Don’t be deceived if your opponent looks weaker or stronger than you expect. Face them all as deadly, and you’ll survive.”

“Officially, yeah,” I retorted, remembering the conversation last night. Mal was going to let them bribe him to get more gold, the sneaky fucker.

The gong sounded again, triggering the doors to slam shut and lock tight around the arena. I took in a deep breath, shifting my shoulders and resettling my armor again as Augustus passed me my sword, and Lydia stepped forward with my shield. I grinned when I saw that she’d attached a dagger in a sheath to the back of the shield, and she grinned back.

“Just in case,” she said, and I looked closer at the dagger, grinning wider as I recognized my ‘Dagger of Ripping’.

I nodded to acknowledge my readiness, and they opened the door, stepping back to let me pass. Mutters of ‘good luck’ and ‘kick their ass’ rose around me as I walked out onto the sand again, feeling it shift under my feet as I went.

I moved halfway into the center of the arena and stopped, waiting for my opponent to come out… and I waited… and waited.

After a handful of minutes, another man was pushed out, wearing a mismatched collection of black and brown leather, topped with a hood that almost hid his face. He had evidently been equipped with only a whip in one hand, and a dirk in the other. The man staggered forward briefly, before turning in an attempt to go back through the door, which promptly slammed shut and locked in his face.

A chorus of boos arose as he scrabbled desperately, pleading with whoever was on the other side to let him out. I straightened, letting my shield drop as I watched at him. My anger built at the gangs for throwing someone in that obviously didn’t belong here.

“Jax! Mal said it’s a trick!” Oracle’s voice suddenly came to me, and I froze, just as the man spun around, his whip flicking out and wrapping around my exposed throat.

I grunted, trying to bring my hands up, but they were full of my shield and sword, and before I could think to drop one or both of them, my opponent yanked back, hard.

I staggered forward, finally dropping both my sword and shield to grab the whip. Yanking hard with my right hand to gain some space, I tried to unravel it with my left. My fingers scrabbled at the ring around my throat, and I stiffened my neck as much as I could, gasping down a lungful of air, before he started dragging me forward over the sand.

Each time I got enough of a grip to