Game’s Dogma

‘Time’s up.’

The Castellan’s voice pulled Drako Yau back from the depths of his memory.

‘Right,’ Drako Yau replied with just a word. He was more of an introverted person, and he only started expressing his emotions after getting along with his companions in Howl of the Tempest Wolves.

‘Let’s go.’

The Castellan clicked his chubby fingers. A purple orb of light shot out from his fingers and created a portal that looked exactly the same as dungeon entrances. He stood up, his pulp body wobbling as he moved.

Drako Yau twitched his eyes at how obese the Castellan was, but he kept his mouth shut and followed the Castellan into the portal, both of them disappearing.

‘See, here I am.’

In the spacious room, six chairs were placed in a hexagon, surrounding the centre. All but one of the seats were occupied. 

Suddenly, a fatty appeared out of thin air on the chair and filled it with his plump body.

One of the persons sitting in the chairs laughed and said, ‘We were just discussing whether you’re feeling unwell or not, ohoho.’

The person who spoke was an old man who had lost a lot of his hair, but he was as fit as a fiddle. With an energetic and healthy look on his face, he sat with a straight back.

‘Hmph. Gramps, don’t celebrate too soon. I won’t stoop so low as to chickening out at the last second.’

Gramps chuckled and fiddled with his tiny beard. ‘Looks like Fatty’s pretty confident this time, eh?’

Fatty’s complexion immediately took a turn for the worse and stayed silent. Everyone laughed bitterly before one of them said, ‘Who’d be confident when up against that monster who works for you?’

The person who spoke up was Taoist, a slim man with a long, white beard that reached his chest. Hearing Taoist’s words, Gramps smiled smugly.

This time, it was a clown whose face was decorated with various patterns who exclaimed in exaggeration, ‘I’m with Taoist. Gosh, Gramp’s little monster has won twelve consecutive times already!’

Fatty, after hearing their opinions, was somewhat displeased. He said, ‘Gramps, since you’re so confident, are you up for a bet?’

Gramps said, slightly surprised, ‘Oh, a bet on what?’

‘Whether your little monster can win against me this time!’

Gramps squinted his eyes; he was a seasoned veteran at this. Why is the fatty so confident all of a sudden?

‘What’s the wager?’

‘Five thousand.’

Hearing the number ‘5000’, even Gramps frowned and answered slowly, seemingly hinting at something.

‘Looks like Fatty’s really confident this time. In that case, I’ll not take part in it this time. Let’s go with the original plan.’

Fatty snickered and said, ‘Gramps’ isn’t so confident in his little monster after all! Well, I’ll let you off the hook then. Five as usual, right?’ He had a taunting look on his face as he waved his arm and summoned five floating orbs of light.

Taoist, Clown, and the rest of them stayed silent, but they were rather interested in this fantastic drama that was unfolding. Gramps also didn’t utter a word as he glared daggers at Fatty, trying to see through him.

A drop of cold sweat sprouted on Fatty’s forehead. A split second later, Fatty used his powers and dissipated it.

Gramps chuckled confidently. ‘Since Fatty’s so bold, this old man shall entertain your madness this time! A bet it is!’

‘Woah!’

The other four present were stunned. Five thousand was a large sum; it took them a few years to save up that many. This bet alone cost several years of their savings!

‘Fatty’s got the guts!’ a middle-aged man wearing a fur coat made of unknown animal skin slapped his thighs and exclaimed. Everyone knew he, Wildman, was good friends with Fatty.

Wildman laughed heartily and continued, ‘Alright, both side’s placed their bets. We as audiences can’t just sit there and watch, right?’

Taoist smiled and asked, ‘How? You’re gonna bet against all of us?’

The last person was a strange-looking person with a vertical eye on his forehead. Tri-eye was stingy on words as he said, ‘Gramps, ten.’

Clown joined in, ‘Gramps, twenty.’

Taoist laughed and said, ‘I’ll just go small this time, five it is. Might as well get back what I lost to Gramps last time.’

Wildman nodded. ‘Fatty’s putting five thousand on the table. Thirty-five, is it? I’ll take the bet.’

Fatty beamed and patted Wildman on the shoulders with his chubby hand.

‘Let’s begin then.’

The six of them lowered their heads to look at the hexagon before them. A dome of light covered the ground, though it only reached their calves. There were two smaller domes placed at opposite ends inside.

As if they were gods, the six of them looked down at the space below.

Drako Yau opened his eyes to find himself in a light dome.

It’s the Arena.

After getting a hundred wins in the Arena, he was rather familiar with it. At that moment, a voice directly entered his brain.

‘Kid, like I said before, this fight is now in your hands. Win, and I’ll give you additional rewards. If you lose… so be it, we’ll call it a favour returned.’

Drako Yau was a bit surprised that the stingy Castellan was so friendly all of a sudden. He replied, ‘I’ll do my best.’

Drako Yau put on his mask. He had gotten used to fighting with his mask on; it soothed his mind when the fiery red mask touched his face and sent him a slightly chilly sensation. He looked across the battleground at his opponent.

A countdown ensued.

Three.

Two.

One.

The light domes vanished, and both of them charged at one another.

Drako Yau was met with a golden flash, originating from the opponent’s wavy golden hair. However, he couldn’t see his opponent’s face as it was blurry and pixelated. 

The opponent wasn’t interested in sizing Drako Yau up though. He held his massive polearm which was nothing like Drako Yau’s oriental style spear that had a thin, long shaft and a blade attached to the end as the tip. Instead, it was a western style knight lance. The shaft, or rather, the long handle was connected to a slim metal cone and had no blade attached to the end. Without a blade, its main form of attack was thrusting as slashing wasn’t available.

Air crackled as the golden-haired young man abruptly accelerated and turned into a raging storm while his hair flickered like lightning. His lance tore through space and along with a loud thunderstrike, its tip was already before Drako Yau’s torso. Lightning flashed past where the lance travelled by and imbued it with electricity as he thrust it at Drako Yau.

While the attack was extremely quick, so were Drako Yau’s reflexes. He took three slow steps back. The steps seemed sluggish at first, but he evaded the incoming attack and swung his spear horizontally.

Snowy Doorstep, the skill with the shortest cast speed and cooldown.

Spear and lance clashed with a clang. Both their skills were interrupted by the impact and dissipated.

The golden-haired young man was clearly surprised that Drako Yau could defend his lightning-speed attack.

But Drako Yau wasn’t. He spun forwards like a tornado—Blizzard!