RUMBLE

Matt felt a sharp and sudden pain all over his body. A strong spasm reached his heart, but not before he thought, 'Shit!'

That was his old life's final thought.

RUMBLE RUMBLE ROAR

He felt the electricity flow through his body once again. At the same time, a large, firm hand gripped his wrist and pulled his entire body to the side. He felt uprooted.

Matt's senses, once taken hostage by the short circuit in his nervous system, returned little by little. Once his hearing came back, he heard loud and strange sounds.

As he looked up, he watched electric bolts fork and zigzag over his head like a dome, starting from a metal pole near him. It was like being under an umbrella made of electricity. The loud buzzing noise faded fast, as well as the lightning.

But what the hell was going on?! The firm hand was still on his arm, and Matt rolled over to the side to see who owned that hand.

The other person, lying next to him, smiled with a funny and victorious smile.

"It worked out! We did it!!"

'If it weren't for the strange feeling that I died, I agree. It looks like we did something great here,' he mused, intrigued.

Matt had no idea who the bald-headed, grinning, big-blue-eyed stranger was. The big man got up as soon as the voltaic arcs and their humming spontaneously stopped.

He helped Matt to his feet, and looked around excitedly. Matt felt small near the muscular man wearing a strange outfit.

'Am I dreaming or did I… really die?' He looked at his dirty hands. He realized that he also wore strange clothing, and a mask covered part of his face. A smell more uncomfortable than his own permeated the air.

Feeling as though he was in danger, he instinctively reached for the short sword which was slung from a baldric that lay across his chest, from shoulder to hip.

The big man wearing a knee-length skirt and a clearly improvised club pointed his weapon towards an area out on the open horizon.

When Matt looked, he realized they were on top of a tower. He heard loudly spaced sounds that seemed to come from the depths of the earth, like a long-repressed howling.

And the source of the funny and horrible smell of burning was the half-cooked and roasted bodies of warriors, similar to the big guy standing by his side. Some still held their spears and swords. Blisters covered their skins, reddened and blackened, and some suffered even greater damage.

Matt looked away, shocked by the horrible and inhuman sight. Some still moaned, at the end of their lives.

"I thought the tower would crack under our feet, man! Wow! We defeated about fifteen of them with your idea. I will never doubt you again." The big man looked at him with respect in his blue eyes, and began to search the bodies, grimacing at the sight.

Matt didn't move, horrified. He hoped it was a dream, and it would be over soon. 'Did I electrocute them?'

"Glax!" urged the other man. "Hurry! There are at least six to go until the end of the ordeal."

"Ordeal?" Who could blame him for not understanding?

He came to the railing of the tower, looking around him, and ignoring his mate's looting. He could see the stormy coast in the distance, and also the woods surrounding them. It ended at the base of the small tower, or lookout, made of stone, where they were. It was a decrepit ruined building.

As in the world from which he had come, there was little left of the day. There was still some light, but the night would fall in a matter of minutes.

He glimpsed shadows approaching the tower in the twilight, and heard screams and sounds of battle very close.

A battle with swords, spears, and physical combat.

Leaning over, he saw men who looked similar to his ally. They fought each other before reaching the tower, which was at the top of a hillside.

"Are we… surrounded?"

The tall man stopped beside him, and looked down at the skirmish.

"Surrounded? I thought you said we would get the higher ground following your plan!"

A man started to climb the outer side of the tower. Someone threw a javelin at his back, and the man fell a few feet. He impaled himself on impact.

Matt shrugged in agony.

There were no rules. It was a kind of struggle for survival, ugly and dirty.

One of them struck another warrior with a blow from his sword hilt. He turned it in a single movement, and stuck the blade in the opponent's neck.

His opponent bent over his knees, and grabbed the blade to pull it away and avoid choking. However, a river of blood gushed out of his neck instead.

The winner pulled the blade and cut the thick rope necklace around the fallen man's neck. He quickly tied the item together with others around his waist.

Matt's fingers went to the similar necklace around his neck, and he swallowed hard.

The big man spoke, pointing to the man's waistline.

"Glax, that's Proctius! The guy I told you about. Our biggest enemy here. Look how many tokens he already has! He must have at least 20 tokens. How are we going to get rid of him?"

Proctius looked up at the tower, and clearly saw them. His manic smile would melt a statue, and he looked at the pair as a cat stared at the prey. Matt knew he didn't want to meet that psychopath.

"Ahem... Me, I think I'm still a little dizzy."

The big man cast a concerned look at him.

"Are you okay, Glax?"

How would he be okay? He was surrounded by corpses and huge, armed guys outside, all of whom wanted to invade the tower. And all he had was a small short sword…

And just because he had a sword, it didn't mean he knew how to use it!

"Is that what I... What are we doing here, really?" Matt, or rather, Glax, asked, scratching his head. 

"Er… I think something's happened to my head. Why are we doing this, anyway? We have no option to…" he hesitated, not sure if his suggestion would be too dishonorable. 

But the warrior's look seemed understanding and concerned, and that gave him the courage to finish his question, "... run away?"

"I never expected to hear that from you, Glax." 

The resounding response accompanied by frowns shattered Matt's confidence.

"Ahem... You don't know me well," the new Glax pursed his lips and looked away, apologetically. 

Hearing a noise at the rail, he ran over and saw another warrior trying to climb up the rough stone surface.

His heart sped up even more. And everything he didn't want to hear came out of his new warrior friend's mouth.

"How goes the rest of the plan, Glax? Oops, that's right. You hit your head and don't remember it either."

'Am I the guy with the brain, here?!' 

That was a reason to panic. Trying to rationalize and not act like an idiot, he asked.

"Okay... What resources do we have at our disposal?"

"Resources?" The bald man looked at his hands, seeming to limit everything to his body. 

Glax shook his head. He looked around and realized the old plan was unfeasible now. Unless he could simply get rid of the corpses, they couldn't stay with that pile of dead people. But at the same time, it didn't seem morally right to throw them like stones at enemies... Although the idea seemed tempting.

"Are we going to keep these bodies here with us?" 

It was strange to refer to someone without knowing his name, but he would find a way to find out his comrade's name later. He was more concerned now about not committing anything outrageous or taboo with the bodies.

The big guy made a face. 

"Wow, Glax. You're right. We won't be able to spend the night here." 

In saying this, he handed over a handful of necklaces made of twisted, bloody hair. Glax winced.

"Thank you for coming and bringing me here. I confess I didn't quite understand what you wanted to do with this barbarian obelisk ... But it was the most insane thing I've ever seen! How did you do it?" the other man asked.

"Okay, okay, you're welcome. But, buddy, a guy is going up the tower and I think we're going to need your club a little bit..." Glax pushed the big guy towards the rail.

The scream that followed when a man had his fingers smashed by the club's blow made Glax cringe with a shiver. 

"And I still don't know what we did to make these guys want to kill us."

"Don't you remember we're on Armorion Island? Stygia? Stygia, the Ascended Hell?"

He shook his head in denial, much to his new giant friend's despair.

"Do you remember we entered the Armoric Games, and that three days have passed?"

"What are the Armoric Games?"

"By the Invisible Old Man, Glax! Don't you remember? 'Many enter, only the best leave'?" The big man ran a hand over the stubble on his head, and held his breath.

"DAFUQ! Am I in a Battle Royale?"

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TO BE CONTINUED

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P.S.: This chapter was kindly edited by CeritusOrbis. Previous paragraph comments dropped, I'm sorry for it.