The Last Dragon Hunter - Chapter 6 TOURNAMENT OF DEATH

The helm clanged like a metal ball as it bounced through the stairs. After a thump, it rolled and then stopped outside Igur’s cell.

Rigert’s wide-eyed head sat in a pool of blood—a piece of bread drenched in red stuck in his gaping mouth.

A cold silence serenaded the entire floor. It seemed like Death, in his classic black robe, stood behind a pulpit of skulls and raised both of his hands. The world then stopped and listened to his dirge.

The hair on the back of Valfern’s neck tingled. When he was about to open his mouth, a pair of steel-toe boots clacked.

A figure with a blood-stained broadsword resting on her shoulder arrived. She picked up Rigert’s head and stared at Igur’s cell.

“What are you doing in there, Stark?” Lady Leva said. Her long white legs glowed despite the dimly lit floor. It was nigh impossible to remove one’s gaze on them if not for the bloody head.

“Lady Leva?” Stark said. “Thanks to the gods you came! Igur played some tricks on me and escaped! Th-that old man is a dark mage! He could meld with the shadows and pass through walls!”

Valfern’s heart skipped a beat. “Wh-what are you talking about?” he said. “No! That’s not true! All of you here are the real monsters!”

Lady Leva tossed Rigert’s head inside the cell. Stark rolled to the side to avoid it while Valfern dove to catch it in time.

“He died because you tricked him, thief,” Lady Leva said. “Unfortunately, his death is not enough to pay for his incompetence and betrayal to the King. I might slaughter his family after this. Stark, pick yourself up!”

Stark coughed. “I-I need some help, Lady Leva. Igur made me inhale something, and I don’t have enough strength to stand up.”

Meanwhile, Valfern gently closed Rigert’s eyes and placed his head to the side. He then stood up with clenched fists and charged at Lady Leva. “You should protect this Kingdom’s citizens! Not slaughter them!”

“Fool! You’re courting-” Stark’s warning was too late.

Lady Leva did not hesitate. She gripped her sword with her right hand and swung it to the charging Valfern.

When the blade was an inch away from Valfern’s neck, it stopped and so did its target.

Valfern could not move his body. No matter how hard he willed it, there’s no response. He could only stare daggers at Lady Leva’s deep green eyes.

Lady Leva retracted her sword. She then planted her palm on Valfern’s chest and with a gentle push, blasted him back to the cell.

Valfern winced as his back slammed on the bars. With the previous injuries from the pebbles, he could barely get up.

Lady Leva then entered the cell, but Valfern’s hand gripped on her left ankle.

“Please…spare Rigert’s mother from your wrath. Kill me instead,” Valfern said. “Lastly, in my sack, there’s a patch of herbs with white flowers. Please…give it to the owner of Bunya Tavern and tell her to heal-” He passed out.

Lady Leva smiled when Valfern’s grip loosened. “When will this drama end, Stark?”

“Drama? I don’t understand what you’re talking-”

Lady Leva slashed Stark’s helpless figure. However, she sliced nothing but an empty robe. A shadow figure had already darted out and latched itself on the wall.

“Ah, I hate the likes of you, Lady. I knew that you were watching me, but I never expected you to be such a quick learner!” Stark said. He hissed, and his eyes turned yellow as they glared like a cornered cat. “What gave me away?”

“Many things. My suspicion grew at Igur’s cabin,” Lady Leva said.

Stark burst into laughter. “How could that be? Any man who has not lived in Bunya for so long could make such a simple mistake about its number of healers!”

“No one has ever seen the face of Bunya’s King of Thieves. Yet you acted like you knew everything about him. Like a plan studied for a long time,” Lady Leva said. Stark appeared behind her, and she swung her blade, but it harmlessly cut through the shadow.

“And then?” Stark said. He reappeared on the ceiling, standing upside down.

“You insisted on getting a hold of Valfern’s sack. If I’m right all along, then you’re the one who stole the artifact from the Misfeet Family. But why the need to frame these thieves?”

Stark clapped. He was back in his human form. “Too bad, you won’t get to live to know the answers!”

…

When Valfern opened his eyes, he found himself back in his cell. He stared at his bare hands—there were no more chains nor bloodstains. He then reached for his back—no more pain. It seemed everything that had happened was all just a nightmare.

“Anyone in there?” Valfern said with a loud voice. He shook the bars, hoping to get some attention. Then his ears caught the heavy marching of knights. “Help! Somebody, please help me!”

From the corner of Valfern’s eyes, a throng of knights passed outside his room. At least ten of them finally entered while the others continued to descend in a hurry.

“Please tell me! Is Rigert Garrucho still alive?” Valfern said. His eyes were full of hope.

Perplexed, the knights looked at each other before returning their gaze to him. “What nonsense is that? Stop pretending to be innocent!” the leader said. “The Reapers found Rigert’s headless body here in your cell, and the King’s Council charged you with his murder. You’re also guilty of helping Igur Ramshackle from escaping and even attempting yours! You’re a walking deadman!”

Valfern gulped. Without a struggle, the knights covered him in a hood and chained his hands. They then dragged him out of his cell.

After a long march, the temperature rose as the sun prickled Valfern’s skin. The noise of the crowd bombarded his ears too.

Trumpets blared, followed by the beating of drums.

A figure in a purple robe, standing behind a golden pulpit raised his hands and captured everyone’s attention. “Beloved citizens and guests, it’s my honor to welcome you all to Soden’s first-ever tournament of death! Let the battles begin!” Imogen said. His voice reverberated, and the crowd roared in response.