CHAPTER

  06.04: THE SLAVES AND HONOUR [PART 4]

  Standing within the open field of the gladiator pit in an

  extremely difficult life or death situation. Damilare stumbles side to side

  battling the illusions with his inner thoughts and quotes meant to boost his self-confidence

  while trying to focus on the physical part of the fight with the intention of

  coming out of the battle victorious.

  The arena was filled with different sounds and conflicting

  screams from audience as they watched the struggles of the fighters with genuine

  joy and excitement while questioning themselves in anticipation of what is to

  come next..

  '' Why is he stumbling? ''

  '' Will he survive? ''

  '' Why is he not killing those disgusting slaves? ''

  '' Am I about to lose all my money on this match?''

  '' I though he was very skilled, even though he isn't an

  awakener.''

  '' Will the rogues finally win over a noble one?''

  '' Am I going to win this match? ''

  '' Bimbo looks beautiful today. I hope he loses so that i can win

  and pay for my wedding.''

  '' I need to steal more, for my evening drinks.''

  '' Why must we enjoy this blood fest.''

  It was strange of Damilare to suddenly stumble and was even more

  strange for him to continue stumbling. The servants, slaves and commoners

  viewed it as Damilare humiliating his opponents and in response, they grew more

  excited and wilder while the guards, and warriors of the Odeniyi fighting force

  realized that he is battling through a nasty illusion.

  The guards and warriors shortly stared at the main family seating

  section in an attempt to see their reactions but they were disappointed and

  shocked at what they saw. All the family members remained unfazed, expressing

  no reactions nor emotions but they collectively kept their gazes focused on

  him.

  With each moment passing. The slaves became more daring and more

  active which pressured him to struggle more and strain his mind and body in

  order to resist the illusion casted on him.

  He realized that he was arrogant to think that the illusions he

  was facing was not something worth studying and focusing on. although the illusion

  was weaker, less impactful and overall lacking in depth in comparison to that

  of his sister's. This current illusion was still very intense and very

  dangerous than what he faced when training with the illusions his sister

  casted.

  The illusion he is struggling with and must overcome is wild,

  chaotic and very destructive to both him and the caster.

  It was rapidly infecting his mind with dangerous thoughts,

  '' You can't win."

  '' You will lose.''

  '' Why fight, when you are bound to lose.''

  '' Can I win?''

  '' Is this how I will die?''

  '' Is my father disappointed?''

  '' Why are you greedy?''

  '' Why am I greedy?''

  disorientated his five senses and slowly scrambled his memories

  in a painful manner

  '' ARGH!!! '' Damilare screamed in pain.

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  Damilare and the caster where both in pain as the caster was

  losing his innate energy rapidly becoming weaker both physically and mentally

  as his innate will dwindled like a dying flame, his body rapidly shrink in size

  and lost a lot of weight, his blood circulation lost its rhythm as it slowly

  flowed from unexpected places. Places it shouldn’t be flowing from

  his blood pushed through, flowing as it dripped unto his face

  from his brown eyes like continuous tear drops,

  it slid down from his ears as it mixed with the ear wax already

  there,

  it flowed down his nostrils in a disgusting mixture of mucus and

  blood while slightly obstructing his breathing,

  it poured from his mouth like an uncontrollable regurgitation but

  instead it was a red mixture of blood and saliva instead of stomach contents.

  it also flowed from uncomfortable and unpleasant places. As every

  other opening of his body was painted in red from the rushing beautiful red

  blood, creating a shocking and horrifying sight to both the other slaves and

  audience.

  The caster was experiencing indescribable suffering, so much so

  he could feel shame or shock from the horrible sight and state is body was in.

  The caster was in way more pain and suffering than Damilare which

  shouldn't be so because he is meant to be causing pain and suffering without

  suffering himself but because of his lack of experience, training and

  resources, he failed to properly control his awakened ability. But even with

  his body slowly dying, and his blood flowing uncontrollably, the caster

  surprisingly persevered in his mental struggle against Damilare, slowing down

  Damilare's movement and interrupting his thoughts while the other slaves attack

  him relentlessly.

  He was no longer facing a unfocused illusion. He was now facing a

  wild, chaotic, and dangerous illusion fully concentrated at him with the caster

  ready to inflict as much damage as possible.

  The crowd collectively grasped in shock as they viewed Damilare

  endure the continuous and ruthless physical attacks from slaves while shaking

  violently like a creature in a painful state of shock, due to the painful

  illusion he is trapped in.

  His life is on the line, as it slowly drifted into the boundary

  of the dead and away from the living,

  His honour and legacy are at stake of being ruined and that is if

  he still had any to brag about,

  His body and mind were slowly succumbing to external influences,

  It was like watching an ambushed buffalo attacked by a pride of

  hungry lions as it struggles for its life with almost no hope of survival

  except the hope of luck.

  His mind began to wonder, his thoughts became random and

  unfocused, his words meant to boost his self-confidence lost its function.

  He was in a more dangerous dilemma than before. Now he had to

  truly and swiftly think of a solution out his current predicament.

  Will he continue to believe in his self and slowly fall deeper in

  the embrace of the illusion?

  Will he give up his struggle and leave his fate to luck and the

  love of his family?

  Or

  Will he find a way through the illusion and come out victorious

  as the mysterious man prophesied?

  Then there was a deep silence as the crowd paused in shock and curiosity

  due to Damilare body no longer moving.

  His body lay still on the extremely hot brownish sand of the

  gladiator pit like a Virginia opossum faced with extreme threat.

  The slaves stepped back slowly while remaining vigilant.

  A flash of inspiration blasted through his chaotic mind,

  '' Since i can't completely win against his illusion. Then I will

  just have to win against him in another way.''

  ''I guess brother Akinleye is right, sometimes brute force is the

  absolute answer.''

  Damilare stopped repeating words meant to boost his inner

  confidence but instead he concentrated all his mental strength on his senses such

  as his earing, touching, smelling and on his sixth sense instead of just is

  eyes, which is his most relied sense and also the most affected by the

  illusion.

  It was an extreme gamble. If successful, he could turn things

  around and if not, he could fall deeper in the embrace of the illusion or could

  just become mad.

  He poured all of his will power into focusing on his senses.

  Pushing it to the extreme in an attempt to regain control over his physical

  body.

  He focused his ears to listen to the sounds of the slaves and the

  crowd

  He forced his nose to smell the unpleasant odor from the slaves

  nearby and from the loud surrounding crowd,

  He felt the sensation of the hot sand and sharp, pointy rocks

  touching his skin,

  and he flinched from the inner pain he felt as his nerves transmitted

  the condition of his body and the injuries inflicted on it to his brain.

  A variety of unique sounds ranging from screams, stomping,

  hitting, jumping and many more which originated from the audience, resonated

  and echoed within and beyond the bounds of the arena in strange harmony while

  remaining chaotic.

  He listened carefully for the sounds of the slaves,

  he inhaled the dusty and irritating odors that was oozing from

  the slaves as they got closer,

  he flexed all his muscles, joints and felt blood circulation,

  while enduring the pain and suffering just by feeding on his body adrenaline.

  It was in preparation for the opportunity, he desired.

  He detected extremely panting followed by a loud groan and a

  sudden crashing sound that caused the sand to shake.

  This is the opportunity,

  This is the moment, he desired.

  He swiftly arose from the ground, paced his breathing ensuring it

  was stable enough and steadied his steps before dashing forward with great

  agility towards the direction the sounds and movements came from.

  Damilare tightly held his weapons with his injured arms and swung

  it with all his might, while hoping it reaches his target.

  SWOOSH

  THUMP

  Damilare attack was a slash done in a sweeping motion with the

  intention of sweeping away everything in its path.

  AUTHOR: THE PROGENITOR 01