The Primal Hunter

Polly cheerfully wanted to cook for their group that night to celebrate the death of her teacher. It was a bit odd to have her tell stories of how her teacher had taught her and how much he had sucked in between happy humming because he was now dead and buried.

Speaking of death, Jake issued his challenge to the Necromancer two days after he had beaten the Archmage… and once more was told the guy wanted an entire month of preparations… so yeah, another thirty days for Jake to prepare tools to increase his chances to win. Of course, he also needed to gather a lot more information on this guy compared to his two prior opponents, as he didn’t have anyone related to him to spill the beans.

Even before the Archmage fight, he had already gathered a lot, and with another waiting period, there was no reason not to get more. Jake also began to feel like one of the reasons Show Matches weren’t a thing in the Champion rank was to remove the potential plot hole of none of the Champions ever doing Show Matches. Sure, it would make sense if some of them weren’t, but wouldn’t someone like the Lightning Monarch have welcomed the training?

Anyway… the Necromancer was pretty much a warrior with some poison and death magic. There was also a bit of dark magic in there, but he usually won through prolonged battles where he wore down his opponent, and from Jake’s research, he did admit the guy could be a problem.

He usually played defensive the entire time while creating a field of miasma all around him. This miasma would slowly spread and begin to inhabit the entire arena, putting anyone who fought him on a timer. Jake did question how the hell the guy had mana to pull off something like that, but he assumed it was just more equipment-powered bullshit.

So, the best strategy would be to take him down fast. That is where him pretty much just being a warrior became an issue. He wore heavy armor, wielded a warhammer, and had several spells to defend himself and buy time for the poison to spread. Shit, he even often won without having to spread his field of death just with his normal spells and a good smack with his hammer.

In preparation for this fight, Jake prepared another powerful quasi-Protean Arrow and worked on covering his body in a small layer of stable arcane energy to keep the miasma out. He also went to the shop to see if he could buy anything to help with breathing it in, but the best he could get there was a bandana or something to cover his mouth. Gas masks were sadly not on offer.

To counter it, Jake began working on a better method of eliminating this miasma before it had a chance to reach his lungs. Ultimately, he settled on just circulating destructive arcane energy through his body to try and eliminate the miasma, covered his mouth with some torn-off cloth, and hoped he could win before it got too bad. Jake was confident in his offensive prowess, after all.

Moreover, the Necromancer was many things, but fast was not one of them. Jake should have a good window where there was no miasma around him, and he could bombard his foe with arrows. Besides that, he spent the month working on more general stuff and even had a few spars with Owen, who was still quite a bit away from Champion material, but he was fine for a sparring partner.

Soon enough, another month had passed, and without further ado or delays, Jake found himself back in the small opening area of the arena, facing a tall man across from him.

”Welcome to yet another Champion’s Match in the Colosseum of Mortals! Today, the Doombringer will attempt to continue his march on the Gauntlet of the Grand Champion and take home his third win! The Lightning Monarch and Archmage have already fallen to him… but will the Necromancer meet the same fate? Or shall he be the Deathbringer to the Doombringer? Well, I guess we should find out! Lower the gates!”

Jake watched the gates lower, but he didn’t walk too much forward in order to still keep a good distance. He observed his opponent from afar, and he had to admit… the guy looked pretty damn strong.

His heavy armor was ivory white with black patterns all across it, with bone adornments here and there. On his head, he wore a helmet with antlers on it, both of which gave off eerie auras of death. The hammer he wielded was entirely black and had a long handle and a medium-sized head, where one side was blunt, and the other had a sharp pick. By the way he wielded it, Jake also didn’t doubt the Risen before him was strong enough to swing that bastard around fast.

heavy and steady steps, a slightly dark footprint left wherever he walked. Jake felt and studied his aura closely,

him as he stayed at a good distance, yet still walked a bit closer to meet his foe and have the customary first-meeting talk. The Necromancer was the first to speak as a deep voice, slightly distorted by

I have been absent from the arena for too long, and I had to refamiliarize myself with the place before I felt ready to face you with the respect

anyone for using their allotted preparation time when it is perfectly in line with the rules. Especially if you were not

understanding is admirable,” the

not made any moves or

in ways I

out. The rest was just a throw-away explanation by a lazy writer to justify why

Knights were pretty much the paladins of the undead race, and Jake did know a bit about them. Ultimately, his biggest question after learning he was a Death Knight wasn’t anything related to

your title in the Arena of

In the early parts of the Colosseum, I found this place far too easy, so I never bothered to battle myself but only raised weak bone constructs and unleashed basic magic to win my fights, and before

he nodded in

been a delight, we are not here to speak, are we?” the Necromancer said after a few moments of silence, wanting to get the action

he pulled out his bow. ”True,

the best combatant win,” the Necromancer said with

in his armor. Jake had shot hit him in the chest before

few cracks in the metal. He had wanted to test the durability of the thing, and it exceeded his expectations. His only real choice was to hit the weak spots of the armor, such as the seams, or where

was the Necromancer also knew he had to do that. Jake’s second arrow was aimed at the Necromancer’s head, but he

arrows haphazardly. He had jam-packed his quiver, getting thirty-eight arrows in there, and while that seemed

wake, and it showed no signs of dissipating. In fact, it seemed to multiply by itself, infecting the very air itself. Jake, inspecting the armor of the Necromancer more closely, soon became certain it was the cause of this miasma. At least he used it as a catalyst to both power and release

had made in the armor with his first arrow had already been mended by the miasma. Seeing this, Jake slowly began to formulate a plan as the Necromancer attacked.

up from the ground where he had

in the knee, the Necromancer would not only have his dreams of

was the plan, but the Necromancer stomped down, breaking the arrow, and kept walking like nothing had happened, leaving a fragment of stable arcane energy embedded within his flesh. Jake felt the energy of the Necromancer slowly attack it, but his arcane energy was not that easily gotten rid of, and he was in no rush

continued to spread. He shot arrow after arrow, and while eight out of fifteen hits were blocked or missed, he soon had seven arrows sticking