The Forsaken Scavenger’s Rise to Godhood

Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Scavenger's Duel

The challenge arrived on a gold-edged card, delivered by a smiling clerk in front of forty witnesses.

*Lord Cassian Draven invites Zephyr Kaelith to a sanctioned duel at the Ember Pit, tomorrow at noon. Should he win, all charges are dropped, his scavenging license is restored, and his name is cleared. Should he refuse, the city guard will be told where he sleeps.*

Zephyr read it twice. "He knows where we're hiding."

"He's telling you he knows," Mira said. "It's a leash."

"Who's the opponent?"

The clerk's smile widened. "Darius Voss."

Zephyr's hand closed around the card until it crumpled.

Dessa swore. "Voss is the best blade in the Ash District. He's won nineteen pit fights."

"He's also the one who left me to die," Zephyr said.

He turned back to the clerk. "I want one more thing. Wick, the boy with Blackroot poisoning. If I win, Cassian gives him the cure."

The clerk blinked. "Lord Cassian said you might ask. He agrees."

That scared Zephyr more than a refusal would have. Cassian wanted this duel badly, and he was willing to pay to get it.

---

That night, Zephyr sat alone in the tannery and opened the System.

**[Name: Zephyr Kaelith]**

**[Physical Strength: 7]**

**[Soul Integrity: 58%]**

**[Skill: Ward (Crude). Proficiency: 9%]**

He had one technique, and it lasted four seconds. Darius had fought in nineteen pit matches. Darius knew every habit Zephyr had, because Zephyr had learned half of them from him.

"Your leg is still broken," Mira said from the doorway.

"I know."

"You can't win straight."

"I know that too." He looked at her. "Tell me about the Ember Pit."

She frowned. "It's an old quarry. They built stone seating around it, then the city cut corners on repairs. Half the walls are cracked."

Zephyr smiled for the first time all day. "Perfect."

---

Noon came hot and bright.

Three thousand people packed the pit. Cassian Draven sat in a raised box on the north side. He was a handsome man in his forties, clean-shaven, in a coat the color of fresh blood. He raised one hand and the crowd went silent.

Darius stepped onto the sand with a sword in each hand.

He looked thinner than Zephyr remembered. He wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Last chance," Darius said quietly as the officials cleared the arena. "Walk away, Zeph. Please."

"Cassian promised to erase your debts."

"He promised to free my sister." Darius's jaw tightened. "I'm not letting her die for you."

"Then you've already decided."

The horn sounded.

Darius moved before the echo faded. Zephyr barely got his pole up. The first blade slid past his ribs. The second cracked against his shoulder, and white pain exploded down his arm.

He stumbled back. Darius followed, relentless, reading every step.

"You always shift left when you're hurt," Darius muttered. He feinted high and swept low. Zephyr's bad leg buckled.

He hit the sand on his back. Darius's boot crashed down on his wrist, pinning it. A sword point hovered over his throat.

The crowd roared. Zephyr stared up at the sun.

*He knows my style. So stop fighting my style.*

He thought of the cold weight in his chest and pulled hard, past the safe amount. Pain tore through his skull.

**[Warning: Soul Integrity dropping. 58%... 55%...]**

The Ward snapped into being, not in front of him but beneath Darius's boot. It was a flat disc of light, slick as glass. Darius's foot slid sideways and he lurched off balance.

Zephyr rolled free and scrambled up.

"Where did you learn that?" Darius gasped.

"I taught myself."

Darius charged again, angrier now, swinging hard. Zephyr didn't block. He limped backward, dragging his bad leg, letting each blow come within an inch of his face. The crowd gasped. Every move looked like he was about to die.

He was herding Darius toward the east wall.

The quarry's east stands had been patched with cheap mortar. Zephyr had spotted the cracks that morning. Rows of seats leaned slightly outward, held up by two rotted support beams.

"Stop running!" Darius yelled, lunging.

Zephyr dropped flat. The blade whistled overhead and buried itself in the nearest beam.

Zephyr flung up a Ward. It hit the beam from below like a hammer.

The wood cracked.

Darius turned, eyes wide. "Zeph, no."

The whole section of wall groaned, split, and came down. Tons of stone and timber collapsed across the sand where Darius stood. He threw himself sideways, but a falling slab caught his leg and pinned him against the ground.

Dust billowed up. The crowd went silent.

When it cleared, Darius lay trapped, sword gone, blood on his face. Zephyr stood over him, swaying, nose bleeding, hands shaking.

**[Soul Integrity: 52%.]**

**[Skill improved: Ward (Crude). Proficiency: 14%.]**

Darius looked up at him. "Do it. Cassian will kill her anyway."

Zephyr stared at the sword lying a foot from his hand. Ten years of friendship. One knife hilt to the skull. A broken leg, a hundred nights of hunger, a brother taken in the dark.

He kicked the sword away.

"I'm not killing you," he said. "I'm going to find your sister. And then you're going to answer to me."

Darius's eyes filled with tears. He didn't answer.

The silence broke. Someone in the crowd started clapping. Then another. Then thousands. Scavengers who had lost everything to Cassian's fees stood on the benches and roared. Dessa was screaming with both fists in the air.

Zephyr turned toward the north box.

Cassian Draven wasn't clapping. He sat perfectly still, studying Zephyr the way a man studies a locked door he can't buy.

---

Zephyr left the arena on shaking legs, shoulders slumped, ignoring every hand that reached for him. The tunnel was cold and dark. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Interesting," a voice said.

He opened them. A figure stood at the tunnel's end, cloaked and masked in pale porcelain. It could have been a man or woman. The voice was dry as dust.

"That was no human technique."

Zephyr straightened. "Who are you?"

The mask tilted. "The old laws are breaking again."

Then the figure was gone, and Zephyr was alone with the sound of three thousand people shouting his name.