Berserker: A LitRPG Urban Fantasy Adventure (Apocosmos Book 1) Dimitrios Gkirgkiris (book series for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

The dwarf raised his hand to make him stop talking. He seemed to consider his words and took a deep breath before continuing. “The healer is my brother.”

Alex was puzzled. Why he was telling him this right before the battle? Had the dwarf changed his mind? Even if he had, Alex would be damned before he let the sentimentalities of others become obstacles for him.

The swords were perfect for him and he meant to keep them.

“I can’t stand seeing my brother like that anymore,” Yalfrigg continued, his tough facade on the verge of breaking. “He’s my only brother. He raised me when our parents were killed. He saved my ass when debt collectors were hunting me. He took me in when I hit rock-bottom. For more than two hundred years, he protected me. And within…”

The dwarf’s voice broke, and he slammed his still blistered hand on the table, creating a large crack.

“Within two years of being in the ludus, I lost him. I couldn’t protect him. Not from monsters or other slaves, but from himself. I never even got the chance to tell him how sorry I am. Now he’s at the side of the dominus the whole time.”

“He sounds like someone who wouldn’t need to be told that you’re sorry.” Alex attempted to help Yalfrigg, who was desperately trying to keep his composure. “This is what he would have wanted, dwarf.”

“What he’d have wanted doesn’t matter anymore. Even from a distance, I can’t stand looking at him, seeing him serve our master mindlessly. You have to promise that you’ll kill him first. I don’t care what you do with the rest of the poor bastards, as long as you end him.”

“Your brother will find peace today,” Alex reassured him. Instinctively he raised a hand to rest it on the dwarf’s shoulder.

But Yalfrigg swiftly knocked Alex’s hand away and immediately went back to his usual angry demeanor.

“Our venerable master also agreed to bring in a buffer from the outside to prepare you for the battle,” he said, in his newly restored rough tone. “Luckily for you, I found a high-level one available. You’ll receive your buffs just before the battle begins.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Alex asked, giving his new blades a little twirl.

“That’s the spirit,” the dwarf replied and started heading out of the tent. “Going in,” he said to the minotaur, who immediately ran ahead of them and started shouting.

“Dead man walking,” the minotaur shouted with all his might.

“Rise and kill!” came a few shouts from around the camp.

“Dead. Man. Walking,” The minotaur shouted even louder now, looking at the waves of slaves that were gathering around them.

“Rise and kill!” they chanted in response.

With each prompt of the minotaur, the voices replying became more and louder. A wall of bodies had opened a way, leading toward a building that resembled Rome’s Colosseum—only this was much larger and much more ominous in its architecture. It almost looked like an unholy cathedral in its facade, filled with angles and sharp edges. The entrance toward which Alex was walking had been carved into the semblance of a horned demon’s open maw.

The shouts of the slaves that had accompanied Alex and Yalfrigg were now dwarfed by the bloodthirsty cheers of the people gathered in the arena’s seats, just above them. They shouted in disappointment when a hit was evaded and in lustful excitement when blood wet the sand, guts were spilled on the floor, and brains splattered against the walls. They were the worst kind of evil. An evil that enjoyed seeing a slave being dismembered, but without the guts to do it themselves.

“Good luck,” the minotaur said finally once they reached the entrance into the arena’s bowels.

Alex nodded at him before moving forward with Yalfrigg. As soon as they both crossed the threshold, heavy metal spikes dropped from the top and locked them in. The sounds of the people inside were now muffled but not enough to mask their thirst for blood.

“You hear how much fun the bastards are having?” Yalfrigg asked as the two men walked between a long series of caged beasts. “Make no mistake, they paid top gold to be here.”

A long whip-like tongue tried to grasp the dwarf’s ankle as he walked by a completely dark cell, but he jumped to the side and kicked it away. He continued walking as if nothing had happened.

“We’re reaching the entrance to the grand pit,” he said eventually as a circular opening emerged in front of them.

Bright lights illuminated the exit that was barred with silver rods that ran from top to bottom. And there, just next to the entrance, stood a hooded figure.

“Are you ready, slave?” Yalfrigg asked in a cold tone, probably so as not to show any hint of companionship to the outsider.

Alex nodded and stepped in front of the hooded man. His characteristics were veiled in a shroud of darkness, no doubt to avoid being identified by anyone. Even under the illumination of his spells, the only thing Alex saw was his intricately crafted robes and his hairy hands.

The figure cast one spell after another and once the casting was finished, he stepped aside, took a small gem out of one pocket, and disappeared with a flash.

“Level 56 buffer. Must have cost a fortune. So remember…” the dwarf said.

“I know. To give them a good show.” Alex finished Yalfrigg’s sentence.

The buffs had boosted his stats significantly and yet he didn’t feel any more confident. He didn’t even check the bonuses they provided. Not because he was pessimistic, but because he had set out to kill people and that was something that would happen regardless of buffs and equipment. Things around him were destined to die.

The bars in front of him retreated into the ground and he took a step forward—toward the light, toward the cheers of the audience.

The dwarf opened his mouth to say something but immediately closed it again. He could see that Alex was in his own head at that