As for the club, Jarsuvius immediately realized it was useless at such close range and dropped it, grabbing the end of Bodok’s staff instead, attempting to pry it from his hands to free his other arms.
Bodok headbutted him in the face, making his eyes water but not causing any damage. The staff released from his hand, swinging back abruptly in Jarsuvius’s grip. The purple man smiled. His opponent was unarmed. Now he had him.
Or so he thought.
Bodok took the opportunity to break from his grip with a snapping twist of his wrist, but rather than running away as he had done so many times before, he moved to the side and slid along Jarsuvius’s body, staying pressed up against him as he quickly transitioned to the larger man’s back.
Jarsuvius wasn’t concerned, he had all the weapons and this little man was now completely unarmed.
When Bodok’s arm slipped around his neck and squeezed tight, however, he very quickly realized things were not as they seemed. Frantically he tried to stab behind him at the man on his back but his own physiology prevented it. His lower arms were great for frontal attacks, but they lacked the range of motion to deal with someone behind him.
Bodok squeezed hard, straining against the thick muscles of his opponent’s neck as he flailed his arms trying desperately to get ahold of him. Bodok held fast, his powerful arms drawing from their damaged runes, exerting all of his strength, cutting off blood to Jarsuvius’s head and air to his lungs.
The purple-skinned man staggered and fell to one knee, lurching to the side as he toppled over unconscious.
The astonished crowd went wild.
“Kill him!” a woman screamed.
“Snap his neck!” a young man added.
Bodok held on a moment longer, then, satisfied his opponent was thoroughly unconscious, he let go and rose to his feet.
“The spear! Get the spear!” someone shouted. “Skewer him!”
Bodok glanced at Maureen, his chest heaving from the effort. She was safe. He felt his Infala twinge at the sight of her. Reluctantly, he pried his eyes away and looked up at the spectators, slowly shaking his head.
Without a word, he turned from his downed opponent and once more walked calmly to the tunnel, victorious, but not as the crowd had hoped for.
The announcer was ready this time, jumping up at once and activating the voice projection system. “Friends, we have just witnessed an incredible upset the likes of which we have not seen in these tournaments. A man who does not even know how to use weapons managed to overcome a top contender!”
The crowd simmered down a little but was still upset, but the announcer had a plan. “And as he has bested Jarsuvius the Mighty, Bodok the Unworthy will now take his place in next week’s tournament, facing none other than the one, the only, Maxxis!”
At this the crowd went wild in a positive way. While tonight’s bout may have ended in disappointment, Maxxis was one of the top undefeated champions, and with his penchant for extreme violence in his kills, it was guaranteed to be a spectacle to remember.
“Oh my,” Vice Quaestor Tormik said, turning to his wife. “Of all the champions to face, he will now fight Maxxis? How delightful.”
“Yes, dearest, indeed,” she replied. “A champion of champions. Bodok will fall, and it will be a painful demise.” She rose, turning to Maureen and Vaxxa. “Gather this up and return to the residence,” she commanded. “We are done here.”
Quietly, and with her heart weighted down with worry, Maureen began collecting their leftovers while Vaxxa cleaned the viewing box. Bodok had somehow bought himself another week, and she was going to be sure to see him as soon as she could.
If what the announcer said was true, it might very well be their last time.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Bodok’s wounds were seeping blood through his bandages, but the injuries were not terribly bad. While Jarsuvius had managed to land a few blows, none of the cuts had been deep. And with the accelerated healing of his kind, the flow would stop within a few hours and be completely scabbed over by morning.
After so many torturous days as the Raxxians’ plaything, he knew all too well just how long his recovery would take. Fortunately, the damage incurred in the fight was nothing compared to what his former captors had done to him.
But some were not so lucky.
The bodies of the fallen combatants lay in a pile in the arena’s tunnels, waiting to be taken away and processed into fertilizer and added to the city’s horticultural system.
The Mondarians would not let anything go to waste if it could make them money. And the tournaments were not only a source of entertainment for the masses, but also a means of keeping the prisoner numbers steady while also generating nutrients to feed their gardens.
Bodok looked away as the guards led him through the tunnels to the back exit, saddened by the pointless waste of life.
“You really mucked this one up,” the guard on his left said. “I had a lot of money riding on Jarsuvius.”
