Chapter 65: Fighting Jason

Charon watched as Jason took a step back from the approaching skeletons. ’Space won’t help you, idiot. You don’t have a ranged weapon, and this arena doesn’t allow you to escape. It’s do or die.’ It was easy for him to judge when he wasn’t planning on doing any of the fighting himself. The screens above him flickered to display their battle from an aerial view, while some tennis ball-sized drones buzzed around to catch any audio. ’That’s convenient. Now is my chance to make the audience love me.’ He gave a deep bow, his head held straight up as he spoke. He purposefully made his voice high-pitched, hoping to feed comedy into every syllable. "I hope you don’t mind that I brought a few friends. They have been dying to meet you!" His joke drew a few chuckles, which was better than none, but it wasn’t everything he had been hoping for. ’Tough crowd.’ His eyes scanned the rows of faces, each one carrying a different opinion on what was funny. ’I need to keep the battle going long enough to be entertaining, but short enough that Jason doesn’t have any chance to twist things in his favor.’ It was a fine line that Charon had to balance on. Messing it up could cost him the crowd’s support, and he wasn’t in a position to deal with those consequences. The four skeleton infantry flanked the leader, creating a wedge that slowly shambled towards their opponent. Already, it was shaping up to be a tough fight for Jason, but Charon knew that could quickly change. ’The announcer said he knew multiple martial arts and fighting styles. I’m willing to bet at least one of those deals with being outnumbered.’ Just as he expected, the moment the clash began, Jason managed to deflect two swords at once, bashing them into the air as he backpeddled further away. As Charon watched, his foe’s plan became clear: wait for a skeleton to get separated. ’He wants to minimize the number of attacks he has to block.’ It was the most obvious solution to being outnumbered. ’Trying to goad him could help. I can both swing the audience in my favor and get into his head.’ Clearing his throat, he shook his head and began to casually walk forward, swinging his legs with emphasis. His skeletons ambled just ahead of him, constantly blocking Jason from attacking. "Are you running away, or is your courage just in reverse?" He tisked under his breath, just loud enough for the microphones to pick up and broadcast. "Just when my band was so excited to meet you. Didn’t you say you were a fan? Dead Zeplin is all the rage these days!" That joke landed better, a subtle wave of laughter audible over the cheers. ’Right direction, Charon. Right direction.’ Jason grunted as he parried another handful of blows, his motions swift but full of power. He seemed determined to only fight the infantry, unwilling to let the leader close the gap with his large heater shield. He called out between breaths. "Do you ever shut up, clown?" Charon chuckled, the sound high-pitched and maniacal. "I found plenty of silence in the grave, wasn’t for me. It might suit you better, you’ll have to tell me once I give you a one-way ticket!" Jason didn’t reply after that one; instead, choosing to backspin around and slash at a skeleton’s head. A small circular shield came up to block it, rendering the attack useless. Grimacing, Jason was forced further away, his eyes widening as he realized one of the skeletons was no longer with the group. It was, instead, off to the side, wandering aimlessly as if it had lost focus. Charging it with almost wild abandon to capitalize on the moment, he brought his sword up to strike down, only to watch as it crumbled to the ground. Looking down momentarily in confusion, he was a second too late to understand that he had been led into a trap. The other four skeletons were now surrounding him, each blocking a cardinal direction. Charon clapped slowly as he approached. "Look at you, the belle of the bloodbath! You finally get all the recognition and fame you dreamed of!" Despite him being within reach of an easy victory, Charon was disappointed by the performance, having hoped for something a little more... impressive. ’This guy knows how to use a sword, but only well enough for a regular fight. This is almost too easy.’ It went without saying that he wanted to win; death wasn’t exactly something he looked forward to, but he also wanted to make a spectacle of himself. A lackluster opponent made that almost impossible. ’This is fine. I can start my reputation with something a little more tame and grow it from there. Baby steps.’ Looking at the trapped man, Charon remembered what Wallflower had said. ’He is trapped now, and will fight like hell to get out. He will most likely die, but it won’t be entertaining, and if he manages to escape, I’ll surely be killed.’ The solution was almost too obvious. His three infantry skeletons stepped back, leaving Jason and the leader alone in a makeshift ring. They banged their swords against their shields in rhythm, building a beat. Charon approached the circle with his arms out wide, his voice lifting above the noise as he took on the role of an announcer himself. "What kind of fighter would I be if I lacked any honor? Six on one? Hardly a fair fight! I shall rectify this right here and now; you versus the leader of my army. My one and only lieutenant." He paused and snickered. "If you win, I’ll let you kill me. Simple as that. All you need to do is beat one measly bag of bones." Jason looked from him to the armored warrior, his brow creasing as he debated the offer. "How do I know you won’t stab me in the back the moment we start fighting?" Charon shrugged and tilted his head to the side. "That’s a little thing called trust, friend! You don’t have much of a choice, one word from me and you become an uglier version of these skinny fellows!" Jason snarled but nodded, the crowd loving the change of pace as they roared in approval. A few pockets even began picking teams, with some chanting "Jason" and others shouting out "Jester!" The two squared off, their swords held at the ready. The skeleton made the first move, darting in and giving a quick jab. Jason slapped it away with the flat end of his blade before countering with a thrust. His strike slammed into the shield, scraping harmlessly off it as his side was left open. Charon’s summon exploited it, slashing into the chainmail. Despite being a good hit, the links held, blocking any cuts from going deeper than the cloth tunic. Jason attacked in response, bringing his sword down but missing by a wide margin, with the skeleton bashing his face with the shield. He stumbled back, wiping blood from his nose. Charon watched it happen and laughed. "You call that swordsmanship? I’ve seen armless skeletons swing straighter than that!" The audience howled with laughter, delighted at the amount of personal interaction they were witnessing. It even convinced a few to change teams, the crowd chanting his name even louder. Screaming in rage, Jason charged once more, his stance shifting as he took on an entirely different fighting style. Rather than meet the skeleton head-on, he ducked under the first strike and swung upwards, hoping to cleave through the jaw. Missing by an inch, he grunted and threw his shoulder forward, banging into the skeleton’s chestplate and throwing him back. He seemed to have forgotten, however, that the undead didn’t feel pain and therefore couldn’t be stunned. The retaliating strike bit into his cheek, running a red line from chin to ear. The man cradled his face and huffed, his breath coming in short bursts. "Struggling to breathe? If you need a break, I’m sure I have a coffin you can rest in." Charon continued to toy with him as the fight continued. Every time he cracked a joke or a witty retort, the audience roared, showing their approval for the new fighter. His other skeletons even began to operate as supporters, pumping their bony fists or swinging their swords in mock victory every time their leader struck a blow. Growing more desperate, Jason feigned a retreat only to lunge, his blade locking with his opponent’s. Expecting the shield, he spun around the back of the skeleton and dropped his sword. Reaching to his belt, he unhooked his mace and smashed it into his foe’s breastplate, the spiky head going multiple inches deep. Small shards of steel burst out, cutting Jason’s hand. The skeleton reeled, its body shuddering and shaking with loud rattles. With a mental command, the summon fell to the side, going still as if he had been killed. A hush went over the crowd at the sudden upset, before they jumped to their feet in cheers at the underdog scoring a win. With feral movements, Jason raised his mace and pointed it at Charon. "You promised! I have beaten your champion, now it’s your turn!" Shrugging, Charon leaned forward and stuck his neck out. "Very well, the victory is yours! Now come and claim it, champion." Sparing a glance at the skeletons around himself and noticing they were unmoving, Jason nervously walked forward and hefted the mace to strike. Before he swung, he spoke to Charon. "You know, for being a crazy freak, you do have a sense of honor. I won’t forget that." Charon chuckled. "No, you won’t." Just before the hammer fell, something rattled behind Jason, his hand suddenly vanishing as a steel blade cut off his wrist. Blood shot from the wound as he staggered back in surprise, his other hand weakly reaching for his empty sheath. Charon straightened himself out and brushed off his sleeves, nodding approvingly at the skeleton leader standing behind Jason, two holes in his breastplate where the mace had struck him. "Ah, I guess the battle hadn’t ended after all!"