New Midian

He slept. Fitfully, he woke several times due to the pain in his shoulder.

He eventually sat up, giving up on sleep close to an hour before dawn. Most of the other Challengers were already up and about by now. Compared to the others, he was lagging a bit behind. He hadn't slept much, but what sleep he had seemed to have helped him recover. He was nowhere near what he was when he walked through the gates, but he was better than when he walked through the doors.

Outside, three Hunters remained. During the night, Rigger must have made it back to his lair as the countdown was suspended above it. That was a testament to his new fortitude, as any man would have died from those injuries.

During the night, I had been thinking about the Hunters. I decided to start mixing up the hunting grounds now. I had approached this like a computer game—the lower-level Hunters on the outside and the high-level ones deeper in. The only one of them I could not shift the hunting ground of, unless it were the location of the church, was Hateful Spirit. I was going to mix up the others now.

I was reflecting on my choices and decisions while the young man ate and drank the last of his supplies from the satchel. He finished off the contents of his small flask and sat quietly for a few moments. He had relit his lantern during this time and was looking around the church. He could make out the two doors located on either side just behind the altar. Hoped he wouldn't go investigating.

I could see he was thinking about it, but in the end, he chose not to move.

His coat contained a pocket watch, which was damaged but still functional. He looked at it and stood up slowly after putting it away. It looked like he was preparing to leave. Dawn was close.

He looked at the crucifix lying on the altar and moved. With a sigh, he turned away from it and packed up his possessions. He placed his bloody shirt into the satchel and closed it. His left arm was extremely stiff, and he was treating it with great care. This slowed him down, but he still managed to accomplish everything you needed. He walked with a lantern in his right hand and a satchel once again secured in his left. The sword was in its sheath, hanging from his hip.

He walked up to the doors and then extinguished his lantern. It took a couple of attempts, but he eventually managed to secure it to the satchel again. He partially opened one of the doors and looked out through the gap he created. Outside, the moon was low, and the cloud cover was heavier this time. Nothing moved except the wind.

It was deceptively quiet. He was not fooled.

I knew Rodriguez was out there. I didn't know precisely where, but I knew he was there. The second ring, where the densest concentration of mausoleums was located, provided him with the best jumping spots. Was he in the north or the south? If he wasn't watching the doors, then he was making a foolish mistake. Given how the Challenger had reached the church part of me, I would not be surprised, frustrated, and annoyed, yet not surprised.

The Challenger drew his sword, opening the door slightly more, and then slipped from the building.

"Where are you, Rodriguez?"

I said to myself as the sense of peace and safety began to disappear. I knew that all the Hunters would now be aware that the game is back on. The wind had picked up a bit now from earlier in the night. There was a strong breeze going through the graveyard, moving the trees and the grass. It was coming down off the mountains, and in the distance, I could see that the cloud cover was thickening. This indicated that a storm might be on the way.

The Challenger was moving. He wasn't heading north, but East; he was cutting through the graveyard, not following the paths. It was a bold strategy. It could cut down the amount of time needed to reach the gate, but it could also see him get lost because he wasn't using the church steeple as a guidepost anymore.

I continue to follow him, looking around. I had elevated myself once more. I paid special attention to the top of the mausoleums—no sign of Rodriguez.

A few minutes turned into five, and then five minutes turned into ten. The Challenger was making headway, but the progress was slow. He was forced to take detours and changes in direction to get around sealed or blocked routes. He had eventually found his way back to a path and was now following it. He was fast coming up on the second circle.

Still no Rodriguez. Where the hell was he?

Between the Challenger and the gates were McGregor and Blackstone. If McGregor didn't kill him, then Blackstone would definitely have killed him unless Rodriguez decided to show up.

The Challenger crossed into McGregor's hunting ground as I saw Rodriguez running up from behind. Unfortunately, he had lost his chance and stopped. I was going to have to find out what happened there. The maze-like nature of the graveyard might have worked out in the Challengers' favour. I decided to stop speculating and wait until this was all done. I would find out then.

Right then, it's up to McGregor.

The Challenger continued to weave through the graveyard if he thought he had seen a shortcut. This continued to have mixed results for him, and eventually, he decided to stay on the paths.

He had taken a wrong turn and doubled back. I was now making headway again, and this is where McGregor found him. The Challenger was tense and looked around for any sign of danger. The period of peace between the church and here had not lulled into a false sense of security, but I knew such a constant mental stance was exhausting.

McGregor was somewhere out there. I had not seen him yet. I was looking around for him above the Challenger as he traversed the graveyard. The two remaining Hunters knew that the Challenger was heading to the gates. Blackstone would be hanging around it while McGregor would need to find him.

The Challenger was still heading towards the gates. He was favouring his left arm, but seemed to be getting used to it. Waking up and moving around helped him with the injury. As he progressed, his movements became less stiff than they were when he first left the church.

The wind was still blowing across the graveyard. The clouds above were moving quickly, creating brief periods when the moon could provide some weak light in the cemetery. The Challenger had not relit his lantern to help him remain hidden as he moved towards the gates. He was unaware that this did not limit my Hunters, but hiding his location was a smart move.

Sunrise will be soon. The sky to the East would be changing, announcing its arrival.

Still looking around, I spotted movement ahead. McGregor had found him.

The Challenger was progressing still at a good pace in the dark. He was sticking to the paths more, as cutting through the graves had almost tripped him twice. He was over halfway to the gates right now. I noticed that his travels had not been in a purely eastern direction but had inadvertently taken him north-east. This was due to the wrong paths and turnarounds he was taking as he progressed.

From the movement I had seen from McGregor, I suspected that he knew where the Challenger was, and I was preparing to meet further ahead. I doubted he was unaware of the Challenger's location, as his actions were too methodical, suggesting what I believed he was doing.

The Challenger progressed, unaware of the danger ahead, but still alert for any possible trouble. It wasn't long before he reached the area where McGregor was hiding. I lost sight of him around here and suspected that this was the ambush point. The path was lined with several small tombs and large grey stones on either side, limiting visibility and the distance that needed to be crossed from hiding points.

I noticed how dark it was here, as the moon had been hidden behind clouds again, but the natural terrain around us only added to this darkness. The path was…

McGregor exploded from the right.

The Challenger acted just as fast. Flashing the sword as he manoeuvred quickly to face his opponent. The action threw off McGregor's attack, forcing him to block the sword with his blade. This also arrested momentum. If he had not stopped, he could have slashed himself on the blade of the sword before him.

"Should have come from the left."

I thought of myself as McGregor tried to get closer again. He was at a disadvantage, as many of my Hunters were, as they preferred shorter blades to the Challenger's sword. This selection of location for his ambush worked in his favour, negating some of the disadvantages. He was close to the Challenger when he charged, staying near to prevent the Challenger from gaining the advantage of distance.

The Challenger tried to back away, but McGregor stayed right with him.

Both combatants traded striking counterstrikes. Here, the close range was working in McGregor's favour, allowing him to look for gaps in the Challenger's defences.

The Challenger had backed up now into another area that allowed him a bit more space to manoeuvre. McGregor saw that the Challenger had a bit more space and pressed more. He can allow his opponent to gain the advantage by having time to focus on his defence. The Challenger was still off balance from the initial attack, and if he lost the initiative, he would be at a disadvantage.

He pulled a second blade from within his coat and began to attack with both. This was a bit of a surprise to me, something I wasn't used to feeling before. His pale skin reflected the occasional moonlight, giving him an unearthly or even spectral appearance. We could see that this was disturbing his opponent, and he was using it to keep him off balance further.

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The Challenger's previous battles had been fast and brutal, fought mainly in areas dominated by shadow and darkness. He had not had a good look at his opponents due to the speed of battle and the time it was at night. The only exception to this was the Hateful Spirit, but here, against McGregor, he was getting a good look at his opponent.

McGregor's changes were not as pronounced as those of others, but they were ironically more noticeable in this environment. The moonlight reflected from his unnaturally pale skin, and I realised that his snakelike eyes were almost glowing with a soft, yellow light.

The two combatants continued to trade blows, neither able to find the opening that they needed. McGregor was not pushing as much, but he was keeping up with the Challenger. He was dragging out the fight partly from his sadistic nature and partly because he had realised that the Challenger was wounded. He was favouring his left shoulder too much, and my Hunter was experienced enough to identify that weakness quickly.

"Don't get cocky."

I said to myself again, knowing that he could not hear me. As a challenger was within the dungeon, my options of influence and interaction were near non-existent. I made peace with this many years ago, but it was still frustrating to see how my Hunters acted outside my direct control. Usually, I was happy to let their natures take over in their fights, but their sadism and arrogance were becoming annoying and a problem.

I decided then and there to diversify their hunting grounds and have us give a talk to them. If they had won the fight and crippled their opponent, then I would allow them to indulge in their natures. Until then, I needed them to focus their eyes on the prize.

McGregor was a classic example of this; he was the most cowardly of my Hunters, yet also the most sadistic. I could see that he thought he now dominated the fight and was dragging it out, but I was concerned. McGregor had been caught out many times in the past, been wounded and killed by challengers who had used his arrogance against him. It seems that he had forgotten this lesson once more.

The Challenger seemed to slip, and McGregor took advantage of the perceived opening.

It was frustrating, as I could see the trap for what it was.

McGregor, with a gleeful leer, pressed forward only to see his opponent suddenly step to the other side, slashing his sword out. He caught McGregor along the side with a deep cut that cut through his coat and into his torso. He staggered back, screaming in pain, and I could tell he was bleeding badly.

That blow would have crippled a man easily.

It was now my Hunter who was defending himself from the pressing Challenger.

I sighed to myself at the situation. So avoidable.

I could tell McGregor's cowardice was now coming to the fore, that he had lost the advantage. He would be looking for a way out of the fight, and I suspected that with the Challenger's injuries, he would get it. The two traded more blows, but now it is McGregor solely on the defensive, trying to stem the bleeding while preventing further injury.

The dull clang of metal striking metal continues to echo around the area. Occasionally, the sparks would be produced when the two metal blades collided. After one such impact, McGregor pushed forward, closing the distance between them. This caught the Challenger off guard, and he was not prepared for McGregor's headbutt when he was close enough.

This snapped back the Challenger's head, and he staggered back several steps. McGregor could have taken advantage of this and won the fight, but he was too severely wounded himself, and he chose this opportunity to run.

McGregor fled, and as the Challenger recovered, he realised his opponent was running. He chose not to follow, instead wiping the blood coming from his nose, which was now clearly broken. He set off again towards the gates as he continued to wipe away the blood.

I didn't bother to watch McGregor's retreat.

"Okay, Blackstone, you're the last one standing."

The young man could make his way through the dungeon, following the pass, getting lost a few more times, but making good time. To the East, the sun began to rise.

The sky was changing colour, indicating that soon the first rays of sunlight would arrive. Outside the dungeon, I began to hear the first notes of the dawn chorus as the birds started to awaken.

As you continue to cross the graveyard, the sunlight begins to spill from the eastern horizon as the sun appears. It will take a few more minutes before it reaches the gates, as the trees act as a natural barrier, blocking it, especially when they are covered in leaves.

I moved ahead of the Challenger, knowing that there was only one Hunter left.

I found Blackstone some distance from the gates. I thought it was an odd spot until I realised that he could see both paths approaching the courtyard from his location. It would not be long before he crossed the distance and intercepted the Challenger when he appeared. If you ignore the pass and come along through the graveyard, he would run directly into the Hunter, so in the end, it was quite a smart location.

I rose a bit further into the air to get a better idea of where the sun was, and I looked out across the area and noticed three figures outside of the gates.

"Who the hell are you three?"

I was torn, and it was easy to stay with Blackstone to avoid missing the Challenger's location, but I needed to investigate the three figures outside the gates.

I looked around quickly, but didn't see the Challenger anywhere. He was close, I knew it, but I had a few moments, so I quickly moved over to the gates. I saw that they had brought horses with them, and now that they were located outside the gates, three men seemed to be arguing.

Two were unsure what was happening, but the third was pacing back and forth.

I recognise the pacing man instantly. Augustus. The first vector of my dungeon had returned. He was older, now taller and broader, but carried himself with confidence and strength. He was worried that one of his children was risking himself in the dungeon.

The other two were asking him if they could enter, but he was hesitant, and I knew why. He understood the rules of this place.

I turned my attention back to the pathways and saw that Blackstone was walking. I followed his direction and noticed that the Challenger had made his way to the northern path leading to the courtyard. I was now following it. It was the same way he used to enter this place, and now that he found some familiar landmarks, he was using it to navigate back to the gates.

The sun now cleared the trees, and the sun's light reached the gates.

I like some of my Hunters; the sun's presence did not inhibit Blackstone. I was torn, but I knew I had to watch how this last fight unfolded. I quickly shifted over back to the Challenger.

He was still favouring his left arm as it seemed that the fight with McGregor might have reopened the wound.

I could see a fresh bloodstain appearing, confirming my suspicions.

Blood loss was now taking its toll on him as well as the night's activities. He was not aware of the danger slowly and methodically approaching. Blackstone had crossed onto the pathway close to the courtyard and was now walking towards the Challenger.

The Challenger was walking forward, almost staggering, with his head down, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. The appearance of the sunlight over the walls caught his attention, and he looked up. That was when he saw Blackstone walking towards him.

My last Hunter was a towering, muscular man. He carried his sledgehammer efficiently in both hands before him at waist height. He was wearing his long coat, which reached down to his knees, and a hat. His expression was calm, with no hint of glee or sadism.

I notice that Blackstone never really indulges in sadistic tendencies and sees the deaths he is inflicting as a job or a chore that needs to be done. That might change over time, but for now, he approached the Challenger as a problem that needed to be dealt with.

The young man straightened himself, and I could see an expression on his face of resignation.

"Oh God, another one." I heard him say. This was one of the few things she had said since crossing the gates, and I was a bit surprised that he spoke from his own activities and experiences, which I could understand the sentiment.

I could see him looking beyond the Hunter towards the courtyard. He was close. Would he make a run for it?

Looking back at Blackstone, I could see that he was absorbing all of this. He was ready if the Challenger made a run for it.

I settled in to watch this final clash, as this would be the end of the Challenger, or it would herald his victory.

Blackstone continued to advance, not changing his pace, but as he got closer, he prepared to start swinging with his hammer. The Challenger knew this, as Blackstone was not even bothering to hide his intentions.

As soon as he got close enough, the hammer started to fly with powerful swings. The Challenger was no fool; knowing that blocking was beyond him, he began to dodge. I could see his face peeling, and he was gritting his teeth as he pushed his wounded body yet again.

He was able to avoid the first two swings, but the third almost caught him and instead struck a gravestone. What saved him was actually tripping and falling back as Blackstone swung. The impact was so powerful that it shattered part of the corner, causing splinters of rock and dust to fly around. I winced at that.

This gave the young man an opening that he seized, stabbing forward with his sword and catching Blackstone in the leg. He sliced into the coat that protected the leg, driving the blade in deeply and out through the other side of the leg. Blackstone only grunted as he straightened himself, staring down at the young man at his feet, preparing to strike down with his hammer.

The Challenger, realising that this wound was not enough to let go of the sword hilt, punched with an uppercut right into Blackstone's groin. The giant man issued another grunt, and this time he staggered briefly, forced to hold onto a nearby gravestone to remain upright as his knees quivered.

The Challenger saw the opportunity as his last and scrambled away from the Hunter, getting to his feet and running for all he was worth towards the courtyard and the gates.

The impact of the hammer on his back issued a loud cry from him, and I heard something snap. He was knocked forward onto the ground face-first.

Blackstone had thrown it, impacting him. Seeing his opponent was down, Blackstone reached, gripping the sword hilt and pulled the blade from his leg. I can see the blood staining his clothing and running out from beneath his trouser leg onto the ground.

The Challenger was in a bad way when he staggered back to its feet. He briefly looked over his shoulder and saw Blackstone was limping towards him. The young man was close to the courtyard and did the only thing he could think of, and kept moving. He was no longer running, and I noticed that he was coughing a lot. He was moving as fast as he could to reach the courtyard and then beyond to the gates and safety. As he moved, he was constantly looking over his shoulder, keeping track of Blackstone's progress.

Blackstone paused momentarily, with another grunt of pain, and bent over to pick up his hammer. He aimed for the location of the Challenger as he pulled back his arm, holding the hammer again. With a simple motion, he threw the hammer, but this time the Challenger was ready. As the hammer was thrown, the Challenger threw himself to the ground. I heard another cry of pain from the young man, but the hammer passed over him, impacting a statue.

Outside, the three men could hear the fight, and Augustus was now stopping the other two from entering the graveyard. They were unsure why, but he told them they couldn't interfere and had to wait where they were. The argument continued.

I shifted my attention back to the Challenger. He was back on his feet and lurching forward. I could see blood coming out of his mouth and running down his chin. His breathing also sounded wrong.

Blackstone was coming up behind him, limping as fast as he could. The slow and harrowing race was on. Would Blackstone get to his hammer first, or would the Challenger get out through the gates?

The Challenger was briefly looking behind him as he reached the courtyard, realising that Blackstone was about to get to his hammer. The men outside spotted the young man as he appeared in the courtyard, and Augustus was physically holding back the two men. He was yelling that they could not interfere.

Seeing the others, the Challenger received a last surge of energy. He came close to running now and got through the gates before Blackstone could get into the courtyard, with his now-retrieved hammer.

As soon as the young man crossed the gates in the distance, the church bells rang, announcing a new victor.

I had only a few seconds of hearing the bells when something grabbed me and hauled me back to the church with terrible force.