Slave Unbound Ch. 13

The look of complete shock on the man's face was glorious when she eventually managed to outmaneuver him so completely that she ended up several steps ahead of him and landed a perfectly made slash along his side. Though the strike should have bit deep into his flesh, the leather he wore took nearly all the power from the cut, but it still managed to split the material and leave a bleeding line behind.

He immediately retaliated, bringing his blade out and back towards her, barely managing to redirect his powerful attack. It made the move so clumsy that Leita easily ducked under the swing, popping back up behind the sweeping arm and punched out with the pummel of her sword. His shield may have been impenetrable and his armor exceedingly hard, but neither of these protected his face. His nose broke under the impact, blood spurting out and gushing down his face.

He reeled back, screaming as though she'd struck him a mortal blow. He fled from her, furiously swiping at the fountaining red coming out of his shattered face, a face that had been quite handsome a few seconds ago. This more than anything else, seemed to anger him beyond all common sense. He recovered himself and came charging at her bellowing insanely, trying to impale her on his sword.

Leita pivoted on her feet as he came at her, angling herself ahead of the uncontrolled thrust and made an attack of her own. Only she used not the sword for this, but the dagger she'd drawn from her thigh. Her stab was well placed, and though it was mostly repelled by the abnormally durable armor, the weapon impacted hard into back of his elbow, hammering into the bundle of nerves there and cracking the joint. He squealed with pain, his grip on the weapon loosening as much of his arm went numb and Leita slapped it completely from his grasp with her own sword.

Before he could recover from his charge, she sheathed her dagger back and scooped up his exquisite blade from the sand. As he turned towards her, he found her pointing both swords at him, though it was his own that he looked at with the most dread. And then that dread seemed to increase exponentially, the color draining from him as though he'd lost not just this battle, but his entire future.

A look of complete desperation flooded into his blood-covered face. He brought up both of his hands, one with a leather cord wrapped around it, from which hung a small crystal shard, and the other making strange gestures in the air. In the next moment, a gout of flame erupted from the outstretched hand holding the crystal, nearly engulfing her. Anyone else would have recoiled away from the unexpected burst of fire, been caught within it as it blossomed outward.

Leita rolled forward instead, purely on base instinct, still felt a wash of fire from the edge of blast go down her back, scalding the skin beneath her armor, but she managed to evade the majority of it. She came up right beside the man, slashing upwards with his own sword. Where hers had barely been able to penetrate his empowered armor, his equally empowered weapon slid through it as easily as it had her shield.

His next scream was soul rending, a screech of unearthly horror and lament, as his hands came off. He collapsed backwards staring at the cauterized stumps at the ends of his arms with bulging eyes. He wailed out an inhuman cry before hugging them tightly to himself and curling into a ball of blubbering mess.

Leita looked down at one of the severed hands, seeing the small crystal dangling from the leather cord wrapped around the fingers. Stabbing down into it with the burning blade, she severed both fingers and thong and reached down to collect the shard, tucking into her own glove. With that, she turned and raised both swords up, inviting the fervent roar of the crowd above as she gave her salute to the emblem of Caruenos.

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Far above Leita and the Arena floor, Sabrina Marlowe sat back in her seat next to the completely stunned Tylone Orchidbriar, his mouth hanging open almost comically. In truth, she felt nearly as gob-smacked as he did, but had far more poise to cover it. She'd entertained the remote idea of Leita possibly managing to barely extract a win, but had far more expected her simply to suffer until she surrendered. She'd taken some painful injuries, certainly, but there was no question that she'd completely dominated Delso in the match, showing a level of talent that Sabrina could never have expected.

"Well, I would point out that your slave appears to be trained in the arts of magick, Tylone, but I don't believe that's a concern anymore. As I understand it, one cannot use magic without hands." She teased, trying to make her tone sound smug and amused.

The Finnfolk seemed incapable of forming a coherent response for a moment, then turned furiously towards one of his attendants. "I want Delso stripped and chained the moment he's back in the holding area!" He squealed at the man. "GO!!"

Sabrina grinned a little at the little man's lack of composure. "Well, it seems I will have a rather nice beverage for dinner tonight. Please do have someone courier that excellent bottle over to me before sunset, Tylone. I have my private chef preparing a dish that it will go wonderfully with."

The little Finnfolk locked a withering look upon her for a moment before smoothing himself and replacing it with a polite, if plastic, expression. "Of course, Sabrina. A very firmly won victory. I concede that your new warrior was worth every coin of her price." He slid down from the stack of cushions that had been placed in his chair to compensate for his short stature and straightened his coats. "Now, if you will excuse me, my dear lady, I have some unseemly business to oversee with my..."

He paused, jaw tensing with a little rankle. "I suppose I'll have to find a new place for him. One is of little use as either a magic-user or a gladiator with no hands, I suppose." He blew an exaggerated sigh and gave her a flourishing bow before taking his leave with his entourage.

In his wake, Sabrina once again settle back into her seat, contemplating the surprising outcome. It had been rather a lot of work to arrange for Delso to be provided with the tools for him to use his magic. Still, she profited no less from this stunning victory than she would have from allowing the Baroness to see the object of her ire tortured. There could be no question that Sabrina had certainly tried and could not have possibly foreseen some little house-slave winning so decisively.

Just as there would be no question that this would vault that little slave girl rather quickly up in everyone's estimations. She might just have stumbled into a star of the arena. Maybe even found someone who could finally unseat Soliver's 'Monster'. As she considered the possibilities, a very happy smile spread across her lips.