Chapter 80: To Bleed and Survive
The Grand Arena exploded into chaos as twelve deadly prisoners launched themselves into combat, each one fighting for survival and the promise of any reward they could imagine. The adaptive floor shifted beneath their feet, creating elevated platforms and concealed pitfalls that turned the battlefield into a three-dimensional maze of death.
Alex didn’t move immediately. His tactical mind processed the opening exchanges with cold efficiency, cataloging threats and opportunities while the other combatants revealed their capabilities through desperate violence.
The Storm Wyrm unleashed crackling electricity that arced between multiple targets, the acrid smell of ozone mixing with burning flesh as one creature convulsed and collapsed, its nervous system fried beyond function. The Crystalline Serpent coiled around a Chitinous Behemoth, crushing armor with sounds like breaking pottery while its hypnotic scales made the dying creature’s struggles increasingly uncoordinated.
Blood black, red, amber, colors that had no earthly names pooled across the adaptive floor, making footing treacherous. The Shadeborn audience leaned forward in their seats, their translucent forms shimmering with what might have been excitement or anticipation, creating an eerie luminescence that painted the carnage in shifting shadows.
The Void Stalker larger and more experienced than the one Alex had fought in the cave phased through solid matter with disturbing ease, appearing behind a panicked A-Class predator. Its claws punched through the creature’s spine with a wet, tearing sound, and the victim’s death scream cut off abruptly as shadow-tainted essence began devouring it from the inside out.
**[Combat Echo Activated]**
**[Analyzing Multiple Combatants...]**
**[Warning: Tactical Complexity Exceeding Normal Parameters]**
Alex’s enhanced perception tracked the Shadeborn as it moved through the battlefield with fluid precision. The S-ranked creature wasn’t engaging aggressively instead, it mirrored Alex’s strategy, staying mobile while other combatants exhausted themselves. Its Mirror Flesh ability flickered occasionally, testing different forms before settling back into its natural translucent state.
A massive A-Class beast something his Adept Eyes identified as an Obsidian Golem charged directly toward Alex’s position. Each footfall cracked stone, and the metallic screech of its joints grinding together set Alex’s teeth on edge. The creature’s body radiated heat like a forge, and chips of obsidian armor fell away with each thunderous step.
Alex’s response was immediate and brutal. Instead of dodging, he created a concentrated lance of fire aimed at the ground directly in front of the Golem. Superheated stone exploded upward in a shower of molten fragments. The liquid rock splattered across the Golem’s face, and its agonized roar echoed off the arena walls as its sensory organs melted like wax.
The crowd’s murmur grew louder not quite cheering, but a rising susurration that spoke of collective interest.
Alex used Phantom Step to flicker behind the blinded creature, his boots splashing through puddles of cooling blood. His follow-up attack targeted the joints where stone segments connected. Fire carved through the gaps, and the smell of superheated minerals mixed with something organic whatever animated the construct was burning from within.
The Golem collapsed with earth-shaking force, its massive form cracking the arena floor. Alex was already moving, ignoring how his wounded ribs screamed with each breath, how blood ran freely down his side to soak into his tattered uniform.
**[HP: 74/120]**
**[Stamina: 8/15]**
**[Essence: 19,650,000/20,000,000]**
Across the arena, the Storm Wyrm and a pack of three A-Class predators had formed a temporary alliance. Lightning arced between earth spikes with deafening cracks, while corrosive breath weapons hissed and bubbled as they ate through defensive barriers. One creature caught in the crossfire dissolved screaming, its flesh liquefying before it could even collapse.
The Ironhide attendants moved with disturbing efficiency along the arena’s perimeter, dragging corpses through hidden exits. They left trails of various fluids glistening on stone—the evidence of death reduced to custodial cleanup.
The Shadeborn caught Alex’s attention with a subtle gesture. When their eyes met, the alien creature made a series of precise hand movements:
**[Translation: "Storm Wyrm—electrical discharge follows predictable patterns. Coordinate flanking attack?"]**
Alex nodded once, tasting copper and ash on his tongue. His side was still bleeding, and every breath felt like inhaling broken glass, but the tactical opportunity was too valuable to ignore.
They moved in coordinated silence. Alex’s flame constructs forced the Storm Wyrm to adjust positioning, and the Shadeborn’s Mirror Flesh ability activated with nauseating fluidity. Its translucent skin writhed and reformed, bones lengthening and shortening with wet popping sounds, until an exact duplicate of Alex stood beside him complete with white hair matted with blood and the ragged wounds across his ribs.
The Storm Wyrm’s electrical discharge lashed out at both figures. The smell of burned ozone intensified as electricity carved black scorch marks across stone. The Shadeborn’s duplicate moved with techniques Alex had never demonstrated, weaving flames with sophistication that made his own constructs look crude by comparison
The creature’s scales rippled with barely contained energy, each discharge leaving afterimages burned into Alex’s retinas. Tiny arcs of electricity jumped between the pooling blood and viscera scattered across the arena floor, creating a web of crackling light that made the adaptive stone hiss and steam where current met moisture. The metallic taste of ionized air coated Alex’s tongue, mixing with the copper tang of his own blood.
The distraction worked. The Storm Wyrm’s scales crackled with erratic energy, sparks jumping between its teeth as it tried to identify which target was real. Its three A-Class allies pressed their attacks, and one got too close the Wyrm’s misdirected lightning struck its own ally, cooking flesh from bones in an instant. The creature’s death shriek was mercifully brief.
That’s when Alex struck. Not at the Wyrm itself, but at the strongest remaining ally—a Thornback Reaver whose natural armor gleamed with toxic secretions. His fire lance punched through carapace with a sound like shattering pottery, and the Reaver’s internal organs boiled in their own fluids.
Green ichor sprayed across Alex’s face, burning like acid where it touched skin. He ignored it, already moving as the Storm Wyrm realized its tactical position had collapsed.
The creature retreated with desperate speed, leaving its sole remaining ally to face both Alex and the Shadeborn. The abandoned predator lasted less than ten seconds the Shadeborn’s claws tore through its throat while Alex’s flames cauterized the wounds to prevent regeneration.
The arena floor was now slick with blood and worse substances. Six corpses had been removed, but the evidence of their deaths remained in puddles and splatter patterns that made the adaptive stone look like an abstract painting rendered in violence.
The Shadeborn audience’s murmuring had transformed into something rhythmic not quite words, but a collective sound that vibrated through the arena like a heartbeat.
**[Combat Analysis: 6 Combatants Remaining]**
The Void Stalker emerged from a shadow portal, and the temperature dropped ten degrees instantly. Frost formed on nearby blood puddles, and Alex’s breath misted in the suddenly frigid air. The creature’s multiple eyes tracked him with disturbing intelligence, and when it moved, shadows moved with it like living extensions of its body.
It began circling, creating zones of darkness that swallowed light and hope. Within seconds, Alex found himself fighting in near-total darkness, his boots squelching through fluids he couldn’t identify.
Alex created flames around both hands, using them for illumination. The fire pushed back the darkness, revealing glimpses of the Stalker’s writhing form and also revealing the bodies it had left in its wake. Three corpses, their flesh withered to husks, eyes empty sockets that stared at nothing.
When the Stalker struck, claws raked across Alex’s back with white-hot agony. He felt skin part like wet paper, felt muscle tear beneath alien talons, felt something cold and hungry begin feeding on his essence through the open wounds.
**[HP: 58/120]**
**[Warning: Shadow Corruption Detected]**
**[Essence Drain: -50,000 per second]**
Blood ran hot down his spine, soaking into his waistband. The crowd’s rhythmic sound grew louder, more insistent, as they sensed the battle reaching its critical moment.
Alex poured fire directly into his own wounds not to cauterize, but to make his essence toxic. The pain was exquisite, transcendent, like being burned from the inside out. He screamed through clenched teeth as superheated energy flooded corrupted tissue, and the Stalker’s draining effect faltered.
The creature withdrew with a hiss that sounded almost like pain. "Fire-warrior adapts," it rasped from the darkness. "But flesh still breaks. Blood still flows."
Alex spat blood onto the arena floor, noting distantly how it sizzled on contact with the stone. His vision was starting to blur at the edges, and his legs felt distant, disconnected from his will.
But he stayed upright. Stayed focused. Because somewhere beyond this nightmare arena, his classmates were fighting their own battles. And the only way he’d ever see them again was to claim victory here, no matter the cost.
The remaining combatants began their deadly dance, each one leaving trails of blood and ichor across stone that would never truly be clean again.
In the elevated seating, the Master observed with satisfaction as his most promising specimens demonstrated capabilities that exceeded projections.
The interdimensional anomaly was performing beautifully.
Even as it bled.