Chapter 64: Jester

Charon looked down at the arena with wide eyes, his body frozen in shock. ’Did she just..? No, that’s not possible. She didn’t even touch him! Yet, his corpse is right there, so it must have been her.’ It was hard to wrap his head around the fact that a young girl was able to cause such brutal destruction, especially when she had never directly touched her opponent. ’What other monsters are here, hiding?’ The warrior who had told him about Wallflower jutted him with his elbow. "Told ya. That makes at least fifteen wins for her. If I had to bet, she will be the Acolyte champion this cycle. No one else can hope to beat her." Charon couldn’t help but agree, unable to imagine someone being stronger. "Are there other fighters like her?" The man shook his head. "Not that I know of, but they bring in new people every week. Some of the other towns under the High Elders have sent their own champs, and I don’t know shit about them." Charon grimaced. ’It seems like every fight will be a gamble.’ "How do I avoid fighting people like her?" The warrior nodded towards the announcer and then the audience. "Make him like you. You do that by makin’ the crowd love you. This is all a show to him. If you make a good one, he will want to see you keep doing it. It also brings some rich eyes onto you. Good backers make life easy." The man grunted and began to walk away, heading up the stairs that led to the betting room, his voice carrying back. "Or do what I do, watch enough fights to know when to quit." Down on the sand, the fighter in question was directed to a hidden passageway, her body vanishing from sight. Sansids soon joined her, the ground reaching up and sucking him under the arena. The announcer, meanwhile, was loudly proclaiming her victory while also urging the audience to stick around for more battles. His disk then returned to their cage, the fancily dressed man stepping out with a wide grin. "What a show, fellas! Now, we’ve given them a spectacle, so next up, we will do a Novice fight. Any takers?" For some reason, no one volunteered, the silence stretching to the point of awkwardness before Charon stepped forward. "I’ll do it." The man stared at him, his smile widening as he took in his clothing. "Oh my, now this is perfect! The mask, the robe, the chains! I hope you fight as well as you dress, my friend, you could be a star!" He dragged out the last word, allowing it to fully set in before ushering him onto the disk. There was plenty of space for them both to stand, but only a thin railing kept Charon from falling off, a fact he did not appreciate in the slightest. ’Gods, do I hate heights. First Rooks Ridge, now this? What next, I’m parajumping off a Colossus?’ As the disk lowered down into the arena, the announcer leaned over and whispered in his ear, the grandiose tone muted into a normal, if a bit rich, accent. "Got a name, kid? Something to wow the peanuts? Give me something juicy, a backstory, a title, something!" Charon sighed; the opportunity was too good to pass up. ’In for a penny, in for a pound.’ "I am Jester, a man who was betrayed and is here seeking justice. Nothing more, and nothing less." It felt good to lie without worrying about mind magic breaching his thoughts. ’I will never take personal privacy for granted again. It does wonders for your peace of mind.’ The announcer grabbed his shoulder and jerked him. "I knew I would like you! This is perfect, perfect I tell you! The crowd will eat that up and won’t bother leaving room for dessert! Double down with a flashy fight and you will win it big!" Charon grinned at the compliment, excited at the prospect of having fans. ’I thought I would be more nervous, but I’m not. If anything, I’m thrilled. I get to test my skills against someone trying to kill me. I might even reach Acolyte before the mission!’ Once they reached the ground, Charon dismounted and watched the floating vehicle speed off. His feet sank into the sand, a few granules going over the lip of his shoes to fill them. ’Just what I wanted; to fight with sandy feet.’ He held no weapons, his dagger still back at the apartment. Instead, he planned to rely on his summons to do the dirty work while he did his best to make a spectacle of himself. ’If I get eyes on me, I’ll have a better chance of getting supporters. With supporters, I can get information on the other fighters. If I fly under the radar, they might throw me up against someone like Wallflower so I get to be turned into cheap entertainment.’ He shuddered at the thought. ’The announcer seems to enjoy a rowdy audience. If I give him one, he won’t want to see me get killed.’ It made perfect sense in Charon’s mind. Keep the audience happy, and the announcer is happy. If the announcer is happy, Charon won’t be Wallflower chow. ’Just like the guy in the cage said. This is all a show.’ The disk soon returned and dropped another fighter off. He was of average height with brown hair, a scowl on his face. He wore a white tunic with chainmail layered over the top, protecting his chest and arms. A shortsword was sheathed on his hip, and a handheld mace was strapped on the other side. The man gave Charon a single glance before snorting and looking back to the announcer, who was offering him one last word of advice. The platform then rose into the sky, stopping high above them. Just like during Wallflowers’ fight, the announcer eagerly spoke to the audience, his voice carrying across the entire cavern. "Ladies and gentlemen, I promised you a great many bouts today, and I always keep my word! Following the last match-up, we have a Novice fight that you will not want to miss! Two fighters walk in, only one will walk out!" Charon looked up at the screen to see the crowd roaring in approval, many of them standing up and raising their arms in an energetic display of support. ’They really do like their blood sports.’ "Coming from the Fort, a man who worked his way up from a simple laborer all the way to a member of our army. A master of two weapons and multiple martial arts, let’s hear it for... Jason!" Charon’s opponent, Jason, drew his sword and raised it triumphantly into the air, his scowl unchanging even as he basked in the praise of thousands. ’Great, so he is an emotionless asshole. I’m feeling less bad about trying to kill him now.’ Once the crowd hushed, the announcer continued. "Facing off against Jason, we have a man of mystery, if he is a man at all! Hailing from parts unknown, with a single focus on justice for being betrayed, we have the King of Clowns, the Lord of Laughter, the eternally cloaked... JESTER!" The cameras flicked to Charon, showcasing him standing on the stand in his dark robes. The chains jangled across his chest, echoing softly into the wind. The Mask of the Jester hung on his face, an incredibly confident smirk proudly displayed on its porcelain skin. Although he held no weapons, he cut an imposing figure, something the crowd seemed to love. Jason had earned quite a few cheers, but Jester earned more than double the amount, with a majority of the Stadia jumping to their feet to holler out. ’Shouldn’t be a surprise that they enjoy a mysterious figure of unknown origins, exactly what I was hoping for.’ Once again waiting until the audience quieted down, the announcer spun in his disk and flourished his arms as the camera panned to his smiling face. "These two warriors will go toe to toe, brawling it out for your entertainment! Should you enjoy the extravaganza of brutality you witness tonight, please show your favor to these budding champions! Only through your support will they move on to the next rounds." He gave a deep bow to punctuate his words. "Now, without further ado... May the High Elders prosper, may the gods giver their favor, and may the champion reign!" Jason slowly approached with his sword extended out like a finger, pointed directly at Charon. "Your time ends now, clown. Let’s see who is laughing when you’re six feet under!" He smirked under his mask, his hands clenching and unclenching as he focused on the mana in his chest. Unlike so many times before, it listened on his first attempt, the energy shooting up his spine and down into his palm, the spell activating. Five portals rose from the ground as the skeleton lieutenant and four skeleton warriors stepped out, their swords and shields already drawn and at the ready. Jason paused as he saw them, his scowl deepening. He shifted his stance as he held his blade more defensively, preparing for a drawn-out conflict. Charon just smiled at him, the Mask of the Jester changing as the smirk it displayed grew even wider. ’This is going to be fun.’