Page 55 of Gladiator Moon

Demons surge toward the iron doors to block access, while even more demons throughout the Great Hall engage in battle with... what, exactly? Freed prisoners? Palace guards? Kidnapped warriors from the Games? Probably all of the above.

The massive iron doors finally blow all the way open, nearly tearing free from their hinges. Pretty sure a powerful magical blast does the job. Is Baltazar out there? Had the arena’s great wizard finally turned against the Dark One? And if so, is he the one who freed all these people?

And I use the word “people” very loosely. Most of the non-demons look like something straight out of a nightmare. Or a cheesy horror movie. Or the overactive imagination of a certain writer I know.

Ugh. Great. J.R. Rain is at it again, emptying every dark corner of that twisted mind of his and letting the creatures out to play. And by “play,” I mean engage in battle with some of the most hideous demons I’ve ever seen.

Speaking of which, they often move as one, a black tide of horns, claws, blades, and leathery, useless wings. Oh, and snarling slits for mouths. They charge the warriors and prisoners now flooding into the massive room. Many of the warriors and prisoners are very much mortal, complete with auras. Real people are dying down there, getting heads and limbs cut off, and torsos stabbed through. The sound of painful death is everywhere.

Ugh, I have to stop this.

“Azul, can you create a protective bubble for you and the prince?”

“I can, yes.”

“Good, because I’m going to need to enter that battle, and I can’t do that with you two clinging to my back like a pair of gibbons.”

“A monkey on your world?”

“Technically a small ape, what they call the lesser apes, though there is only one example.”

“The gibbon.”

“Yes. Okay, onto the shield!”

Just like that, Azul and Prince Pickles float off my back, fully contained in a shimmering orb. Azul’s eyes are closed. I see it is taking all his energy or magic or something to produce the shield. No, I don’t need one for myself. I will take my chances.

Below us, a second wave of freed warriors and prisoners slams into the demon horde. I spot Salt Creek’s diminutive people almost immediately. The wood sprites dart through the air in flashes of browns and greens, moving so quickly they are little more than blurs. Elsewhere, towering gladiators meet the charging demons head-on. One swings a hammer the size of an anvil. Thor, is that you? Another carries a spear longer and thicker than a telephone pole. Behind the gladiators come former prisoners armed with whatever they have managed to find. Some carry heavy demon swords. Others wield kitchen knives. A few have lengths of chain wrapped around their fists. Quite a few have nothing at all but their bare hands and years of fiery fury.

Fury seems to be doing the trick.

A blue-skinned woman with four arms spins through the melee, knives flashing in each hand. Nearby, a shaggy beast-man lowers his head and barrels through a cluster of demons like a living bowling ball. A tall silver-haired creature with transparent wings lifts two demons high overhead before dropping them onto the stone floor.

All of this is well and fine, except none of these beings can actually kill a demon. Indeed, the horned bastards just get up and continue fighting, albeit often with missing limbs.

Likely only the Devil Killer can actually put the demons permanently down and return them to the Origin.

Meanwhile, the Dark One stands before his throne of bones, doing nothing but watching. Actually, that’s not true. I suspect he is controlling the various waves of demons, directing them this way and that, siccing them on the biggest and greatest of the warriors.

Watching how other wood nymphs deftly avoid blades, spears, and clubs, I have an idea. “Azul, can you release Salt Creek from a distance? I think she will want in on this.”

“Yes, Sam. But...”

“I think she can take care of herself.”

“But... she could be harmed.”

“I don’t think she will, and she will want to fight with others of her kind. She could keep them safe, I suspect.”

“Okay, Sam. It is done. She is free. But she is barred from entering the arena. You were only able to break in and out because of the prince.”

“I believe all magical locks and spells have been broken.”

“Baltazar...?”

“I think he’s on our side now.”

Azul nods. “Only Baltazar could have lifted the palace wards. Only he could have released the prisoners.”