Garden Of The Abyss

In the midst of such gloom and doom, watching as the anguished high elf carried the lifeless corpse of his companion back into the spectator's room--holding it without saying a word as he sat down, Ren was speechless.

However, the next words to launch from the boisterous announcer's lips would cement this feeling of perplexion within the young man.

"WITHOUT WASTING ANY TIME, LET'S GET ON WITH THE NEXT BOUT! REN, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE ARENA!"

It took a few moments for these words to garner any meaning to his ringing ears as he looked up, feeling the eyes of Jae-Seong and Aiko fall on him.

"...Me?"

Gulping this reality down, time felt as if it crawled to a nauseating halt for him as he listened in for the identity of his opponent.

"SICARIUS, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE ARENA!"

He didn't know what he wanted or expected, but this outcome ran over his skin with a chill while a burning heat bubbled in his stomach.

"Sicarius...that's him, isn't it? That world-renowned mercenary…?"

The fear he felt was something different than a reluctance in the face of horrifying strength; that wasn't it at all.

Holding his stomach, a cold sweat began to leave his pores as the most common outcome of this battle rose to his mind; a reality that solidified itself with the outcomes of the last two matches.

It'll be a fight to the death; there's no avoiding it, he thought.

"Calm down; you've got this--totally!"

Jae-Seong gave him a pat on the shoulder with a thumbs-up in an attempted, uplifting combo that didn't seem to have much effect on the nervous, white-haired young man. Ren had been sucked into his own spiral of thoughts, but alas, after exchanging a glance with the quiet, beige-haired girl who looked at him worriedly, he moved forward towards the pit.

Not again. I can pull through this. I can do it, he thought.

He quickly learned that witnessing the arena was far different from standing in it; the lights shone down upon him as if he was some spectacle carving through the skies, countless eyes watched him from every angle of the stands; a mixture of cheers and roars manifested into a tangible tremor that vibrated the sand beneath his boots.

"...I hate this."

Ren muttered to himself, wiping the sweat from his chin that conjured from the anxiety-reeling situation he found himself in.

With the cheers picking up in intensity, he turned his gaze towards the opposing side of the sand-filled pit to witness his foe making his entrance. He had forgotten just what type of man it was he was facing; the glazed over, cold look in his eyes that had seen a valley of corpses, tan skin layered in scars, and obscuring, sable garments that left much to the imagination.

One look at the man and it was obvious to him the main difference that existed between them.

"Experience."

Ren surmised, watching as the stoic, dead-eyed mercenary with salt-and-pepper, shaggy hair stopped once reaching the center of the arena.

"Hey, if it's clear who the winner is--the loser will just concede, alright? No need to spill any more blood today."

Attempting to set a clear understanding between the two of them, Ren's words fell on deaf ears as Sicarius simply stared back at him quietly.

"Ren Nakamura."

Hearing the man speak for the first time, his voice was as deep as the ocean's floor and monotone; devoid of any seeming emotion entirely. Still, Ren was quick to meet the legendary mercenary in conversation as the advent of their battle loomed over them--all resting on Asmodeus' whim.

"...Yes?"

Keeping quiet for a moment after receiving his reply, Sicarius finally answered in his low voice, "The barriers of this arena--their stability is one way."

"Huh…?"

Ren had no clue as to what those words entailed, and attempting to seek any further explanation was futile as Sicarius' scarred lips returned to their sealed state--as well as the announcer releasing the restraints on their battle.

"MATCH...BEGIN!"

Not fully listening to the call that started the bout, Ren looked at the quartz walls that outlined the arena, studying their form inlaid with gold briefly.

What is he talking about? The barriers? One day? Ren thought.

Distracted by these thoughts, a harsh reminder of the nature of his opponent bore itself to him.

Now no more than an arm's reach away from him, the stoic assassin was partially through a malicious movement.

I was only looking away for a second…! He doesn't waste any time! I didn't even get the chance to draw my sword…! He thought.

Catching his eye was the shine of steel, sliding out from the black, shadowy sleeves of the arm Sicarius moved in a large sweeping motion towards his neck.

It was close, but he managed to barely maneuver his neck out of the reach of the sharp blade; the bloodlust oozing from the hidden weapon brushed against the pores on his jugular.

Straight for the kill…this is the worst case scenario, Ren thought.

Thinking he avoided certain death, Ren's half-second long reprieve was cut short as Sicarius flowed right into another movement. Using the momentum of his avoided slash, the cold-blooded assassin spun around, launching into what looked to be an uppercut; the fist-fueled move however was grossly twisted by the man's style as a hidden blade protruded from his sleeve once more.

Shit! Ren thought.

Trapping his breath in his lungs, he realized there was only one avenue of escape as the blade rapidly approached his chin from beneath: "Shadowstep."

Willing it without an incantation, he flung himself back as he witnessed the blade-backed uppercut pierced the air in place of his flesh.

"Give me a warning at least, would you?"

Ren complained to himself in a huff, feeling his heart throb against his chest as his blood flowed rapidly under the stressful situation.

Once more, before he could anticipate or even react to his movements, he found Sicarius directly before him with speed that sent a chill over his skin.

Brought so close, the mercenary brought his lips close to the young man's ear.

"Try to pay attention; use your brain, hone your eyes--if you have to, resort to your nose, or even the feeling of air around you. Do what you must to survive, Ren Nakamura."

--These words only served to pull Ren straight out of his already unsteady focus; he was unprepared as a harsh blow was delivered directly to his gut from such an intimate proximity.

I don't get it...I don't get it at all. What is he trying to tell me!? He thought.

Spitting out the air from his lungs after receiving such a blow, Ren caressed his burning stomach as he looked up at his opponent who stood over him. Coughing and heaving from air as the sharp hit had compromised his lungs momentarily, Ren could only give breathless gasps to the man, who finally spoke to him once more.

"You still don't get it, do you? Do I have to spell it out for you? The enemy is all around you; watching and waiting."

Sicarius' words weren't accompanied by a fist to the gut this time as they came spoken in a whisper--made certain to be shared only with Ren's ears.

"Enemies around me…?"

He's not attacking? He thought.

Ren repeated, beginning to look around at the stands packed with demons, other inhuman fiends, but also something else as well--beings shrouded in enigmatic, dark robes. They were the only ones in the filled stands not cheering, or even so much as moving a muscle--as if they were superimposed into his sight.

I know what I saw before--they weren't there. I would've noticed. I would've...right? He thought.

"Don't stare too hard at them. They'll figure out that you've figured them out. You don't want that. This is the only chance I could find for the two of us to meet without drawing their attention, so apologies for the sudden reality check."

Sicarius dragged Ren's sight back to him, still standing over the young man who slowly straightened himself out. The malice he felt from the renowned assassin earlier was gone as the man didn't seem intent on fighting him now.

"What's going on?"

"That's the question of the hour, isn't it? Well, I think you'll find out soon enough. For now--follow my lead."

Reaching beneath his stygian cloak, Sicarius spoke quietly as he retrieved a pair of shortswords from sheaths attached to his hips. Ren subtly nodded his head as he pulled Belus from its restful scabbard, wielding it as sweat lined his chin--feeling the enigmatic gaze of the unknown watchers in the stands.

As their collaborative dance of steel began, they exchanged in a planned stalemate--simply clashing blade against blade.

Thud.

--Such a sound would resonate from somewhere within the arena; though it began subtly, the loudness of the thuds grew each time, happening periodically.

"Stay focused; don't pay any mind to it."

Sicarius assured him with a brief whisper, flinging his blade against Belus as defending against the man's powerful attack made Ren stumble back a bit.

"...Those noises though...what the hell is that?"

His words lured no answer from the stoic assassin who simply resumed their play for the audience. Pressing steel against steel in another clash, their faces were brought close to one another as Sicarius finally spoke again.

"I don't need you to understand, all I need is for you to trust me. Just know that I am on your side. When the moment comes, and it will soon--leave it to me."

Sicarius uttered without a single change in his tone, his cold eyes not wavering in the slightest even though the words he spoke shook Ren as he struggled to grasp the enigmatic situation building around himself.

"...Alright."

"Good."

Sicarius, confirming the white-haired young man's allegiance, pulled his blade away before launching a kick against Ren's body--which he was somehow able to block against in time as his soles slid across the sand.

Damn, he isn't holding back even for an act, is he? Ren thought, I have a bad feeling about those guys up here; it outweighs my bad feeling about Sicarius...I've been known for having bad judgment, but now's my time to redeem myself!

Something felt off.. Even more so than he already felt; the air fell stagnant with a cold that carried nothing forward.