SOWER: My Cultivation Creates Gods

13 | Concessum Est

"Pro... victoria mea..." Rome's voice was a rasp. "Peto... salvum conductum... pro ea."

For my victory. I ask safe passage. For her.

The arena went silent.

The giant statue turned its massive head. Those burning eyes fixed on Rome. On the broken hunter lying in a pool of his own blood beside the corpse of its soldier.

Seconds stretched into eternities.

"INSOLENS." The giant's voice rumbled like thunder. "SED... IUSTUS."

Insolent. But... fair.

"UNUS VICTOR. UNUS SALVUS."

One victor. One saved.

"CONCESSUM EST."

It is granted.

Rome let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

She's safe.

Kiona's safe.

That's... that's enough.

He fumbled at his pocket. His remaining hand, his only hand now, was clumsy. Numb. The essence stones he'd collected earlier spilled across the sand. Eight of them. Maybe more.

"Kiona."

She was still beside him. Still crying. Her hands pressed against his stump like she could somehow put him back together through sheer force of will.

"Kiona. Take them."

"What?"

"The stones." He tried to push them toward her. Managed to scatter them further instead. "Take them. Go."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"You have to."

"NO!" Her voice cracked. Raw. Desperate. "I won't! I refuse!"

Rome laughed. It hurt. Everything hurt. But he laughed anyway.

"Dumbass." The word came out soft. Almost fond. "I'm dying. Just... go. Please."

"Rome—"

"Put in a reservation for us." He forced his lips into something like a smile. "Somewhere nice. With candles."

"Stop it."

"You said I'm paying, right? So pick somewhere expensive. Really... really bleed me dry."

"Stop TALKING like that!"

"Kiona." He found her hand. Squeezed it with what little strength he had left. "Go. Come back with help. Or don't. Either way... you live. That's... that's the deal."

She stared at him. Tears carved tracks through the dust and blood on her face.

"I'm coming back for you." Her voice shook. "Do you hear me? I'm coming back. Don't you dare die before I get back."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Liar.

You're such a liar.

Kiona grabbed the essence stones. Shoved them into her pocket. Her eyes never left his face.

Then she moved.

One of the fallen knights lay nearby. Its sword had fallen a few feet from its body. Kiona crawled to it. Grabbed the hilt. Used it as a crutch to lever herself upright.

Her broken leg dragged behind her. Each step was agony written in the lines of her face.

But she moved.

Toward one of the archways. The one the giant had indicated with a slight tilt of its head. The one that led somewhere other than death.

Good.

Good girl.

Keep going.

Rome watched her hobble toward the exit. Watched her silhouette grow smaller against the torchlight.

At the threshold, she turned.

"I'm coming back!"

He nodded.

She disappeared into the darkness.

She made it.

She actually made it.

Okay.

Okay, that's...

That's good.

That's really good.

Rome lay there for a moment. Let the relief wash over him. Let himself feel something other than pain for just a few seconds.

Then he moved.

What the hell are you doing?

His body screamed at him. Every nerve ending lit up with white-hot protest. But he moved anyway.

You should stay down.

His hand found something in the sand. A staff. Long. Wooden. It had belonged to the spear woman. Sarah? Sandra? He couldn't remember her name. Couldn't remember if she'd been one of the ones who ran or one of the ones who'd died in the fall.

It didn't matter now.

You should just let it end.

He used the staff to push himself up.

One knee.

Then the other.

Then his feet.

The world swayed. Tilted. Tried to throw him back down.

He stayed up.

The giant statue watched him. Those burning eyes held something that might have been curiosity. Or amusement. Hard to tell with a face made of stone.

Rome pointed the staff at it.

His arm shook. The staff wobbled. He probably looked ridiculous. A one-armed, half-dead OIne-Star threatening something that could crush him like a bug.

"You're next." His voice was barely a whisper.

"Asshole."