War God for Hire- Gladiator David Burke (bookreader TXT) 📖

Even knowing that the tornado level wind was about to hit him, Kyle still found himself woefully underprepared to resist it. He was knocked off his feet in an instant and found himself strung out between two poles. His legs were locked around one near the top and his fingers dug into the top of another. He might not have claws, but his body was so durable and his strength so great that he was still able to force his fingers into the wood, partially splitting the top of the pole in the process.

He was still there straddling the air thirty feet up when the first fire whip hit him. It sizzled against his skin and burned his bare back. A grunt escaped his lips involuntarily, but he pulled himself up onto the top of the pole his hands had created gouges in. When the next whip came at him, Kyle reached out, trying to grasp it and earning himself a burned line across his forearm.

His plan relied on being able to grab one of the whips. Hilde had assured him that it should be possible, although she had felt compelled to tell him that if he only had a greater degree of mastery over his essence, he would be able to simply will the attacks out of existence. Kyle wasn’t happy with the continual reminder of his inadequacies, but he focused on his plan for the moment.

When the third whip lashed out, he was able to grab it and twirl it around his forearm. The smell of burning flesh stung his nose, but he blunted the sensation of pain in his mind. If someone had asked him how he did that, he wouldn’t have been able to explain. It was just something that he had always been capable of. It wasn’t new to his status as the supposedly reincarnated war god. Rather, it was just part of his commitment to excellence, to never giving up.

He ignored the burning pain that was starting to increase the longer he held the lash of fire made manifest. Then threw his head back and roared. The sound came out as more like some monstrous beast than a man, but it went well with how he felt. Along with the roar, he yanked on the fiery whip.

The mage who had cast it went flying off the side of his perch on the inside wall of the coliseum. Kyle heard a scream as the man smashed into the arena floor. The fall was less than ten feet, so it shouldn’t be terminal, but he figured if the guy fell wrong, he might have broken a bone.

A pair of the healers, or flesh mages as they were known here, went running for where their fallen comrade had landed. The unexpected turn of events brought Kyle a momentary reprieve. His blood was pumping and excitement flowed through him. He felt the burns on his arms more acutely now, but they began to tingle and were starting to heal before his very eyes.

The reprieve was short lived, but Kyle had a plan for this. Absent the ability to use his own essence, all he could do was hold on. The sick part was that this was actually going to be useful training for if he ended up having to face Gilthan in any of the matches. He dropped flat and hung over the side of the pole with his legs fully wrapped around it and his upper half supported by the top of the pole and his hands grasping his legs to try to hold on if he started to spasm.

Then the lightning bolt hit him. No matter how he had tried to mentally prepare himself for it, he still wasn’t ready for what happened. It felt like he was having a seizure, or at least what he imagined that might feel like. He was totally out of control, and his body was tensing so hard that he was crushing the wood of the pole. Still, he held on.

He felt his teeth grinding in his mouth and still he held on. No wonder the mages were treated with such respect. Normal warriors would be helpless against this sort of attack. They would long since have been rendered unconscious. But Kyle was just plain stubborn. He wasn’t going to let some skinny, robe-wearing, finger-waggling wizard outlast him.

In part, Kyle was relying on something Hilde had told him when first explaining about essence. If he recalled correctly, most human wizards couldn’t hold that much essence. So, he was betting on his ability to outlast the mage.

As he clung there, feeling his teeth chatter and his bones rattle, he heard Saber’s voice, “You can let go. You’ve proven that you are strong. Nothing more to prove.”

Through all of the pain, Kyle found that the effect on him was gradually lessening. He didn’t know if that was because the attack was becoming weaker, or he was adapting to it. There was always the possibility that he was just plain going numb.

Somehow, through gritted teeth, he managed to spit out, “Never.”

In his head, Hilde said, “I’m sorry for pushing you to this. You don’t have to become the war god in one day. If you keep this up, you could die.”

Kyle answered her in his mind, “No, the mage is only a mortal, as you say. He can’t have much essence left. I will outlast him.”

“Oh, stupid godling. What if he has a reservoir with him? You probably don’t even know what that is.”

Then Kyle felt the pain fade. The trembling in his body slowed down. His muscles felt like jelly but the electrical current running through him was gone. He had done it. He had outlasted the mage. In a final display of defiance, Kyle held up one hand and shouted, or tried to with a voice made raw by spasming. A weak cry of victory came out and then he slid off, falling unconscious to the ground beneath him.

Beyond