Nightsea Outlaw

Gulantry looked down at his screen as Lucien toyed with the fighters. All around him, he maintained about a hundred screens, each a viewpoint into a particular piece of the action. His gift to his people was this beautiful sight. They didn't get to see all the views; Lucien was saved for him alone, but they could see the Sword Saint and his fight with the nightshade from at least thirty angles alone.

"I can just feel the viewership rise and rise." Gulantry moaned as he licked his lips and reached for fruit from his every present plate. "Such a delicious sensation."

His enterprise reached beyond merely the arena below because he had bigger dreams than controlling one small island. No, he was building a media empire on the backs of those who fought in his arena and those who watched the bloodshed. Every fight, every view drove his name, his greatness, ever farther. Word of mouth was spreading far and wide. Soon, any island with access to its core would tune in to watch his fights.

He could only broadcast to those islands connected to his network, and so far, his audience was more limited to those who just wanted to place bets on the fights. None had wanted to broadcast his entertainment, but they would soon see the value. The distraction alone allowed for so much leeway in how he treated his people. When they were watching the fights, they did not notice how hungry they were. They ignored the cries of their children. It kept their minds off their poverty.

"A media giant that will crush the World Daily Press," he chuckled to himself. "That is my potential. I just need to push a little more. I just need a few more islands to catch on. Then I'll have the greatness I have always deserved."

His entire empire was built on his greatness. He was the one who had found the island core all those years ago. To himself and others, he presented that as the truth, but deep inside, the lie ate at him. To have his greatness dependent on another was not something the Great Lord Gulantry would ever admit to.

"No one should ever know," he whispered, reaching for another fruit from his table. "Even the Seer himself told me never to tell anyone. So, is it really a lie that I found it all on my own? I did. That is the truth of it. I, the Great Lord Gulantry, found the island core and built this entire enterprise. I alone am why it succeeds. I alone am what holds this world together. To think any less is impossible."

He chuckled to himself to dissuade himself from thinking further on the matter. He ate another orange and focused on Lucien's fight. If only he had not agreed not to broadcast it to the masses, he would be so much further ahead. An Apostle in combat was something no one should miss.

As he watched, he failed to notice the spiderweb of cracks spreading across one of his screens.

Crack. Boom. Groan. Thump.

"Folks, I don't know what is happening, but the arena appears to be shifting. I can't seem to find a viewpoint that shows why. Everyone look and yell out if you see what screen is showing it!"

Lucien smiled as the ground shook beneath him. One of the combatants had set off his trap. That meant it was time for the grand reveal. He held out his arms and took in a deep breath, opening his gate wider and wider until it seemed that it would burst in his chest. Dark tendrils of mist stretched out from his arms, and he drew in the mist around him.

His gate ate greedily at the mist and grew more and more inside him. He smiled as Ortega watched him. Ortega's entire being was one of planning and preparation, but Lucien had surprised him. The joy that rose in him meant he couldn't keep the smile off of his face.

"I knew what you would plan, Ortega," Lucien said as he drew in more and more of the mist, feeding it into his gate. "I knew you would send one to distract the nightshade. I knew you would personally come and try to fight me for a time. I knew you would send the third to rescue the boy. So I laid my trap."

Ortega looked behind himself at the place where the rumbling in the ground had started with a side look that still kept Lucien in his sight. Ortega didn't let his guard down, and Lucien would commend him for that, even though he did not need subterfuge.

"You see, I know you, Ortega. I know you from all those years in the lab. I know you from every trial and experiment you overcame. I know you from when we fought, and you when left me to the nightshade's mercy." Lucien shook his head. "I knew your only thought would be escape and that you would not leave the boy behind, so I planned accordingly. I knew you would think me vulnerable, but I knew that would be mistaken."

"I know how you work, Lucien," Ortega said, fully facing him. "You're strong, don't get me wrong, but you're not invincible. While you have the nightshade out, you can't fight to your full potential."

"True," Lucien said. "I am limited when using my curse at its first level."

"First level?" Ortega narrowed his eyes.

"I sometimes forget you are an off-worlder," Lucien shook his head, his grin stretching ear to ear so much that it hurt. "After I had that old man executed, you lost your one source of information. You're practically no different than a babe regarding knowledge about Erth."

"Say that again," Ortega said through gritted teeth.

"I do not need to," Lucien said, drawing a hand to his chest and forming a black ball of mist inside. "All I need to say is this: When you left me with the nightshade, my curse was at but its first level. Defeating the nightshade allowed it to evolve. My curse is at second grade, and I must thank you for making it possible."

Lucien closed his eyes and took in a deep, final breath. Lucien's gate in his chest opened wide like a gaping maw, and it consumed him. Instantly, the mist all around the arena sucked back into his gate, creating a vortex of wind, dust, and dirt that found its focal point in his heart.

"Folks, the mist is pulling back! Look away from the screens and look down to the fight. There's the nightshade. There's 'Sword Saint' Sayed. Look, 'Thorn Queen' Leah is running toward the walls! Who's that in the center? A man is fighting 'Tin Man' Ortega. We couldn't see before! Who is this man? What is going on, folks?"

In the distance, light shone down on the arena from the stands as the mist faded away and subsumed into him. In moments, the entire arena was revealed as it was: a circle of dirt and rock with a hill piled high in the center. Cracks and fissures had appeared in that hill that had not been there previously, but that was part of Lucien's plan. It was his sign to begin the final act.

Kraw!

The nightshade held up its arms against the light as the light ate away at it. Its resistance was futile, in the end, as no creature of the Veil could stand up to direct sunlight. Black splotches appeared across its skin as it dissipated into black dust. The black dust followed the suction of the mist, also going into Lucien's body.

"I don't know what is going on, folks, but it appears that 'Sword Saint' Sayed wins his fight with the nightshade by daylight! Now, we only have the last contender in the center. What will he do?"

"This is a curse of second grade," Lucien said, opening his eyes and seeing the red and black mist swirling around him in his peripheral vision.

He could not see it, but he knew his eyes would have changed from deep blue into a beast's yellow-slitted eyes. His second grade took his curse and brought it into his own body, and it let him truly fight the way he wanted to.

"Beast Arms."

Lucien stretched out his arms and willed them to change. Pale white skin grew from his gauntlets, and webs stretched across his fingers as claws grew where the fingertips had once been. His arms grew and warped with the change, growing longer until they could have almost touched the ground with the tip of his claws. In moments, he had the arms of the nightshade attached to his body.

"What have you done?" Ortega whispered as Lucien flexed both of his new arms.

"I have changed," Lucien said. "Something you do not believe is possible. You will not find the boy, 'Tin Man' Ortega. He is long gone. Neither will you escape. All three of your lives will end in this arena on this day. You will be my prey and give me the fight you denied me on August."

"They're talking, but we can't seem to get an audio track here in the booth. Someone, anyone, get us in so we can broadcast this!" the announcer yelled at someone, clearly not knowing he was broadcasting out.

"Step."

Thump. Crack.

Ortega disappeared in a flash, and Lucien brought up his arm. He caught the staff against his arm, and the tough hide of the nightshade easily repelled the force. Lucien smiled, spinning on his foot and swinging his second arm in a long arc. Lucien tapped into the Path of Might without a word, for that was the sign of true mastery, and clocked Ortega hard in his shoulder. Ortega went flying across the arena in a long arc. He landed on the ground and rolled in the dirt. Lucien smiled, looking down at his monstrous hands. This was the power he truly desired. Not domination of monsters, but taking their strength for his own. His gate had granted his desire when it had evolved.

"Demon's Thrust."

Whoosh.

Lucien perceived the attack through the Path of Will before it came and acted accordingly. He twisted his body to the side and ducked down, balling his claws into a fist as the attack sailed past him. The 'Sword Saint' weakling stood above him, committed to his thrust with his right arm extended and his gauntlet close to his chest. Lucien punched up, again tapping into the Path of Might without a word.

Crunch. Boom.

Giddy glee ran up Lucien's arm and into his gate as he cracked into the man's ribs and sent him flying as well. The 'Sword Saint' landed in the dirt a few meters away, his arms splayed out, and his sword lying discarded on the ground next to him. Lucien smiled, turning his attention back to Ortega and walking casually over to where the man had rolled to a stop.

"A good try, but neither of you can stand up to one such as me. You will fight, for sure, as all cowering animals must to survive, but know this fight was over before it began. No one in this world, not even the Scions themselves, will be enough to stand against me. You are but the first steps on my path to ruling over the Erth."

As Lucien expected, Ortega pushed himself up with his staff. The man would not last long in this fight, and Lucien knew that. He would hate to end his enjoyment, but that was the price of his desire. He desired the hunt, the fight, and the kill. That must always come to an end one and only one way. He only regretted that Ortega was not stronger.

"I had high expectations of you," Lucien said as he reached down to grab Ortega. "The doctor always said that you would be his greatest creation. You would be the weapon that would upend everything. But look at you now, beaten and broken so easily."

Ortega mumbled something, but Lucien couldn't hear it. He bent closer so that he could listen to Ortega's final words. Ortega looked up to him, and anger and hatred were burning in his eyes.

"It isn't over yet!"