506 CHPT 506: Terror
As Arne said, Claude was saved by the bell. Saved from Maris' cold and hard gaze. Like steel. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place in that sense because the alarm— he soon learned, only went off to get the students formed up and ready for the next event.
A disappearing student didn't mean much in an event where thirty could die in one night. Claude knew that after his first Tangent. He shouldn't have forgotten.
He wouldn't again as he stood in the formation of students. The hard surface of the main grounds— sanded stone, constant against his heels. He was surprised, for a moment he'd forgotten the crowd. Not literally, but it wasn't clogging the front of his mind. The hundreds of scents— sounds, feelings… stories. They sat on the back burner as the announcer did his usual ramble.
"Well, I suppose many of you are getting used to things here now. We've come a long way, you all have seen what the world has to offer. In man and monster. For many of you students, you'll experience a second rebirth of sorts after this— not in body, but in mind. This tournament is your whetstone as you run along the path of a sword. Direct, adverse, bloody. Stay on your path, follow where it leads."
"[Oddly poetic of him.]" Arne commented as the crowd was quieted by his words.
"HAH! ANYBODY ELSE EXCITED?!?"
"[Oh for fucks sake….]"
Claude rubbed his ears in response to the sudden violent return of flamboyant character, the jewels on his colorful robes and ear rings seemed to shine harder as he performed.
The crowd was slowly brought back to its feverish heights of boisterous chaos and greed.
"Ok! We're on the newest event week. For my viewers, scouters and gracious donators that means a new week of content and finding your Hero! For my students, that means you're in the Tangent- Terror- Scenario.
Claude's nostrils flared and his muscles tingled at the scents of fear wafting from his fellow students. A few rows over he could see Bengal barely hiding his eye glow.
"Good news! No Banes this time around." The Announcer happily told them, "Not in the magical sense at least….. hehe… Your only Bane— per se, would be not having a high enough level."
"Shit." Claude panicked, not for himself, but for his friends.
The Announcer waltzed around the floors of the risen stadium grounds with his air element, "I mean it makes sense. In the real thing— not that this is fake, the lowest levels tend to die first. Not enough Stamina…. Skill Acquisition ….. Strength. Being a low level isn't simply being weak. It's being unprepared. What's so different from you…. And the men and women who faced the first S Ranked Horde of Goblins in New Gloria? How fitting that the embodiment of Greed collapsed the US... or the Primal Stampede down south? Elven Beast Tamers took advantage of that weakness. They changed our world. We learn here not to let it happen again. So, everyone below level fifteen, you're dead."
"I think the hell not." Warren whispered with a shiver, "Why would he say—-"
Everyone's necklaces glowed and fizzled with fissures of magical energy before students starting hitting the ground all around him. The Glorian Student formation looked like it got hit with a bomb and only casualties remained. Warren, Isaac, Conroy, Stella, Drew. So many.
Claude stood over Isaac as Ursula and Maris tended to Warren, few students in other groupings did the same.
"Sleeping…. Pulse steady, breathing normal— no poisoned scents." Claude patted Isaac's face to wake him. Nothing.
"You'll find many things in The Sunlands to be multi-purpose. Efficient. Your Necklaces— pendants, whatever. They are for translation, but in doing so they run a scan of your physical and magical aptitude passively. Which is perfect for this event. Through a estimate of strength, speed, mental fortitude, intelligence and durability we can gauge your levels. After that all it takes is a hex. They are not dead."
Sunlandian Guards cut through the formations and began dragging students away. Claude almost lost his cool as a guard grabbed Isaac before remembering his mind wasn't his own.
He saw Ursula's claws extend as the guard grabbed Warren. Maris laid a hand on her blade.
He weaved through the students still standing and grabbed them both by the arm, pulling them to their feet.
"Hey—"
"Fight. Just fight." Claude cut off Ursula as he whispered in their ears.
The three watched them be dragged away to one of the many glassy globed rooms that made up the entirety of Ra Stadium. Deep asleep. Heading somewhere Claude didn't know. He wouldn't turn off his Natural Vision until he found them.
"Fight…" He repeated, "That's the only way we get them back. Not here, but wherever they go. We get expelled for listening to our instincts in here and they still get put in danger anyway. With Samuel…"
He could feel his eyes on him. He could smell the death— old and decaying. In the strands of his dreaded hair. Caked between his molars. Mixing with his pride to create a foul golden grime that scratched at Claude with taloned fingers. It reminded him of Jack so much he would've thought that's who watched him if he was any less focused. Any less in the now.
Maris and Ursula centered themselves beside him. The Announcer finished up his speech. Even he could feel the crowds tiring of his suspenseful nature. And if anyone knew they were quick to riot it was…. Well, everyone.
"Now, in this scenario I think the goal is obvious. Terror is born when safety is threatened….. when success isn't promised. For some of you this is your most dangerous event. You need to not only fight against unfair odds, but you need to save the future generation. Your teammates. Your friends. Your family. Individually, you'll step through your portals and so the event will begin. Don't forget your training. The crowd won't appreciate it ha!"
One by one students were led elsewhere Sunlandian Guards to different rooms within the Stadium. Claude could hear the portals fizzle and spark as Students stepped through and into the chaos. When his time came he was practically moving at a sprint behind the guards.
He'd already become an amalgamation of traits borrowed from Diamondback, Loba and Frosty. Battle lust. Black scales. Sabered fangs. Soundless steps. The smell of the predators forest thick on his sand papery tongue.
Their destination glowed in the green darkness at the end of the trail, etched into a earthen wall grown seemingly minutes ago. Probably so.
The magic of the portal— or maybe what was on the other side made his scales harden with anxiety. Loba hissed at the sight of the portal. The guards stepped away.
"You ma—"
Claude lunged inside with his team of wildlings before they could finish.
He moved so fast there was no time to notice the seamless change. One second he was in a forest. The next he was in a warzone. Literally. He froze for a moment at the simple sight of it. He couldn't…. It couldn't.
"It's…."
BloodStarved Vampires flew through the night skies fighting Griffins and Harpies in an air based war. Each one eviscerated the other in a cloud of flapping wings and misty viscera, their bodies fell for hundreds of feet before being swallowed up by the hurricanes and vortexes twisting the ocean…. Which held its own storm. Literally. Clouds of black rested on the uneven surface, bubbling and spitting red lightning bolts into the ocean floor. It made the earth shake.
They were on an island. Men and women in crappy battle gear manned Rune-Written Artillery Cannons and defense positions with a backdrop of what looked like an attempted reimagining of old world civilization. Hundreds of glass skyscrapers with brights glowing signs. Metal walkways across the rooftops, flat roads. Old rusted metal wheeled objects laid around. It would've been the least chaotic thing if they weren't all clogged with Arachnoids of all species having their own race war.
Too much…
Too much..
Too many smells. Too many sounds— his brain was melting. Too much to see. His ears burned from the abrupt and absolute contrast of light and dark. Even those aspects had a battle to the death.
He could get lost in it. He was getti—
"Shut the hell up. Please." Claude told himself as he grabbed the Druidic Blindfold hanging from his neck.
The sounds never fade. No earplug would deafen a Lupine. But the sights. He could lessen the impact. He tied the blindfold over his eyes and welcomed a very famil—
SHLCK!!!
[+300 EXP]
A Kobold with matching black scales went limp on the end of his spear from the hole in its head. It's legs and arm were torn out by the others before it even reached him.
"Let's find everyone. Let's focus."
