Freelance Heroics (3 page)

“And they act like that even though they couldn’t find those kidnappers for
three months
. Makes you wonder if they’re really that good, doesn’t it?” said Mazik. The crowd laughed.

“Regardless of your version of events, you’re leveling accusations, not discussing anything,” said Warmaster Evii. “Do you have anything to discuss or not?”

“You know what I think your problem is?” Mazik went on. “I think you’re not used to losing. That’s why you can stand up there, looking down on us like a bunch of kings, and refuse to look reality in the eye. I think you’ve become too complacent.”

Warmaster Evii said nothing.

“I’d like to fix that!” said Mazik. He pointed at the guild leaders, a well-timed burst of mana ensuring his robes billowed dramatically.

“We challenge the Big Six to a duel! The three of us versus the best duelist in each of the Big Six. Six duels against six opponents, and we’ll do it with only three people. If you win, you’ll prove that you’re worthy of protecting Houk, and we won’t bother you anymore. But if
we
win, we want the Guildmaster’s Council to endorse our charter for a
new
adventuring guild, one dedicated to the defense of this city and its fine people!”

Gavi had to give it to Mazik—his plan had put the council in a tough position. Though public opinion mattered little to the guilds, it mattered a great deal to the Tyrant, which was why she was still in power (and alive). If public opinion turned too sharply against the guilds, she could decide to take action, and then anything could happen. That meant the council needed to take care of this quietly, but Mazik had just made that impossible. Between the agitating crowd and the Times reporter, they couldn’t shush this up, and if they turned down the challenge when the numbers were so clearly weighted in the guilds’ favor, they would appear weak, cowardly, and arrogant.

Of course, that doesn’t mean we’ll win even if they accept.

Gavi watched as Warmaster Evii glanced at the other Big Six representatives. Several of them nodded.

“We accept your proposal,” said Warmaster Evii. She continued even as the crowd’s cheers threatened to drown her out. “Paragon, Vector, the Brotherhood of the Steel, Malediction, Bloodfist, and the Tryrindar Knights will each send one person to this duel.”

Mazik threw open his arms. “Excellent! About the time and place—”

“Your terms are already kind enough. We cede the right to decide on the time and location to you,” said Warmaster Evii.

Mazik grinned. “Thank you,” he said, and Gavi couldn’t help but smile. She had a feeling the council was going to regret that concession.

“There are other options,” said Raedren.

“Like what?” asked Mazik. The two freshmen were discussing their college majors during a break between classes.

“How about summoning? Being able to convert mana into physical objects is always in high demand.”

“I don’t like the gray goo that spews out when a spell break. I always get it on my clothes.”

“Maz.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Mazik lowered his hands. “Honestly, I wish I were better at summoning. I get how you imagine what you want to create, and I can do that for certain things, but I either can’t get it to form or it lasts for maybe half a minute, which is a far cry from the several hours to half a
day
a good summoner can get. Plus my stuff always glows too much.”

“That’s only because you’re a beginner. I know a summoning major whose creations only sparkle once in a while, and with simple items she can even pass them off as authentic
⁸
.”

“It’s a little late in the game to be going from beginner to expert, remember?” said Mazik. “This is for our majors, not our course catalog. That ship has sailed. If you like summoning so much, why don’t you major in it?”

“Because I’m even worse than you, thanks for bringing that up,” said Raedren. Mazik stuck out his tongue. Raedren added, “Though if I could summon beer
⁹
, I would have tried harder.”

“If only. What about illusion? You’re good at barriers, so illusions shouldn’t be a problem. Though come to think of it, I’ve never seen you try.”

“Opposite problem from you. I have trouble picturing what I want to create, so my illusions always come out looking weird, when they work at all.”

“Wait, is that why?” Mazik sat up. “That’s surprising. Is that why you never liked talking about that class?”

Raedren nodded. “I bet I could even make them tactile
¹⁰
, but I’ve never tried. I can’t get them to stay up long enough once I notice how ridiculous they look.”

“Hmm.” Mazik flopped back onto his bed. “Are there any others? I feel like we’re missing some.”

“Just universal and unclassified, I think.”

Mazik snapped his fingers. “That was it. Though I can’t major in mana regeneration and keening, and I wouldn’t want to major in the glorified miscellaneous pile for div crap, so that’s not useful.”

“I guess it’s better to follow our natural aptitudes after all,” said Raedren.

“Yup,” said Mazik. “So, evocation it is for me. How about you?”

“Protection, I guess. Maybe I’ll still minor in enhancement or healing. Still not sure.”

“Well, you’ve got time.” Mazik grabbed his bag and stood up. “Right now, though, we’ve got to get to class.”

Three days after their theatrics with the Guildmaster’s Council, Mazik, Gavi, and Raedren were back at the Kitpicc Gladiatorial Arena, the sunken coliseum colloquially known as The Pit. It was their first time back since they had helped kill a god out front a month ago.

The three stood atop the Gate of Life, looking out over the arena. Much had changed since their last visit, with aimed at restoring the building to how it had been before. The arena floor, which once sported a gaping hole from when the late god Amougourest nearly killed them, had been completely repaired, though not much else had. Battle scars still marred many sections, especially the lowest deck where much of the fighting took place. Mazik suspected the Catacombs were still a mess as well.

“I can’t believe the guilds agreed to this,” said Gavi. She watched as spectators filed into the stadium. Over half of the usable benches were already full, with people still pouring in.

Mazik laughed. “Me neither. That’s why I made sure the Times heard about it first. I doubt they’ll ever make that mistake again, but it works in our favor for now.”

A fat man in a lacy scarlet tunic waddled over and clapped Mazik and Raedren on the back. “Thank you again for bringing your fight to Kitpicc! The match has already proven to be more popular than expected, and will go a long way toward helping with the repairs.”

“No problem,” said Mazik, returning the announcer’s back clap. “We’re happy to help, since we weren’t able to keep it from getting banged up in the first place. We’ll try not to do too much damage today.”

The announcer laughed, and his stomach undulated like fresh cream. “A little is fine, as long as it makes for a good show! We made sure to give you those columns you asked for, so feel free to make the matches exciting.”

Gavi glanced at the eighteen columns that formed a circle just inside the arena walls. She cocked her head.

“Cover, if we need it, or something spectacular to blow up,” said Mazik. “The crowd loves that kind of shit.”

“Ah.”

“I wish you all the luck in your bout,” said the announcer, shaking their hands. “I will be rooting for you, though obviously I cannot show any preference once the matches begin.”

“We understand. Just try to make us sound impressive when you introduce us,” said Mazik.

As the announcer retreated, the trio watched as the stadium filled. The crowd was already agitating for the matches to begin.

Gavi looked around. “Where are the rest of our opponents?”

While the announcer, referee, and other arena officials had set up directly above the Gate of Life, on either side were two covered benches where the competitors’ teammates would be able to watch the games. The one to the right had been set aside for the trio, while the other side was for their opponents. Only two of their opponents were present.

“I’m sure they’ll come.” Mazik opened up his robes and checked his knives. They had been exchanged for blunt practice weapons from the arena’s armory. “I need to get into position. Everyone know the plan?”

“Win as many matches as we can,” said Gavi. “I think we can remember that.”

“Great! You two are the best,” said Mazik. Gavi snorted.

“We only need to beat six people,” said Raedren. “Apropos of nothing, what are the odds at?”

“The guilds are favored. Heavily,” said Mazik. “Last I heard the odds are set at us winning two or three matches, depending on your bookie, and I’ve heard some saying that’s optimistic. Used to be less before the guilds released that statement saying they were sending new and semi-retired people. Those ass-covering fucks.” Mazik stuck out his tongue.

“Well, it makes sense,” said Gavi.

“It’s also nothing next to the odds of us winning the whole thing,” said Mazik. “Whoever put money on that is going to have a good night when we win.”

“Good to know,” said Raedren. “Speaking of which, what are we doing if we don’t win again? Not that it will be needed.”

“Love your optimism,” said Mazik. “Just play it up. Win as many matches as you can with as much style as you can manage. If we can clearly beat the odds and get the crowd on our side, we might be able to maneuver a guild into taking us even if we don’t win out.”

“And if that fails, we can always try another city, right?” said Gavi.

“Right-o.” Mazik smiled tightly. “Though it would be easier if we just won.”

“I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to help with the style part, so I’ll leave that up to you,” said Raedren.

Mazik struck a pose and treated them to a sloppy grin. “Fear not, my friends! If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll go ahead and beat all six of them now, so neither of you have to worry.”

“By all means,” said Gavi, grinning despite herself. “Though if you can’t pull that off, we’ll be here to help.” She hugged Mazik. “Good luck.”

Raedren squeezed Mazik’s shoulder. “Give them hell.”

“Can do and will do. In fact, I’d like to see them try and stop me!” Mazik looked down at the arena floor, and then at the spectators waiting for the show to begin. Even with only three days to get the word out, they had filled over two-thirds of the available seats.

Mazik grinned. “This should be fun.”

The announcer raised his arms. The arena throbbed with the noise of tens of thousands of spectators. He let them continue for a full minute, letting the excitement build higher as more noticed him. Then he opened his mouth, and his voice boomed out.

“Gentleladies and gentlemen, I bid you welcome! Today, on this most auspicious of days, which sees the first games held in Kitpicc Gladiatorial Arena since a month ago, when it was the setting of a grand battle against a vile cult and their wicked god, we bring you a special exhibition match—starring some of the very same people who defended our great city!”

The crowd thundered, waving flags and roaring voices vibrating the air.

“Let me take you to the beginning. It was some months ago, when a group of insidious and murderous individuals began terrorizing the streets of Houk. Kidnappers they were, snatching good and honest souls away in the darkness of night. For three long months, nobody could find them. For three long months, the terror continued. Nobody could stop them!

“
Until they came!
” said the announcer. The cheers swelled. “Three young souls, stout of mind and strong of body, dared to . . .”

As the announcer’s voice echoed around them, Raedren leaned over to Gavi so he could be heard over the howling crowd. “I feel like we should be tipping him. He’s really making us sound good.”

“That’s probably not necessary,” said Gavi. “He’s acting like Mazik. He seems to be having a lot of fun.”

Raedren chuckled. “True.”

“Today, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to the heroes who saved our great city!” thundered the announcer. Gavi looked up as the announcer turned to face them. Her heartbeat slammed into overdrive as she and Raedren shot to their feet.

“Here they are! To my right is the young woman with the lightning reflexes, whose blade sings for villainous flesh—Sarissa Gavin Ven’Kalil!”

Gavi raised her sword over her head as the spectators went berserk. Her heart was pounding and her knees had gone weak. Luckily they weren’t asking her to say anything.

“And next to her is the illustrious protector who has already saved countless lives, and whose power knows no bounds—Raedren Ian’Moro!”

Raedren raised his staff and bowed. He too was showing signs of butterflies in the stomach, but only barely—Gavi didn’t think anyone who didn’t know him would have been able to tell. She hoped the same was true for her.

“And finally, we have the leader of their merry band,” continued the announcer as Gavi and Raedren sat down. “He is a spellcaster whose unrivaled power shook the foundations of this very stadium, and who some are now calling the Godslayer
¹¹
! Please welcome that most evocative of evokers, Mazik I. Kil’Raeus!”

The Gate of Life opened, and Mazik strode out. The crowd cheered. Mazik glanced behind him, and as the last few figures scrambled away from the gate, Mazik turned around and snapped his fingers.

Bright blue mana belched from the mouth of Gladiator’s Way, spilling out of the dark tunnel and racing toward Mazik. The crowd gasped—and then watched as Mazik calmly walked away from the explosion, mana licking his gray robes as a big smile splashed across his face.

The crowd erupted! Mazik wasn’t surprised—he knew Houkians loved a good show, and he intended to give them one. He raised his arms high over his head, urging the crowd on. He was basking in their adulation, and loving every second of it.

Mazik stopped in the middle of the arena and looked back at the announcer. The fat man quickly squashed his grin and got back to work.