It wasn’t long before lucretia went to the arena a second time by the use of the same third party. They were interested in keeping these affairs clean and hearing that there was a lycan among the current group of entrants grabbed her attention. Not only was the lycan a part of it but they were fairly sure that the champion was one as well. They were using it to scout out members for their pack before trying to form a proper guild out of them. The last thing that Baska needed was a dark guild full of lycans willing to spread their problem to others.

It was a serious threat and a serious problem, so having Lucretia step into the tournament again was sure to raise some eyebrows especially with those that knew her. Due to the last clash she was already placed in the same bracket and simply waited for the fighting to begin. She had several marks this time around and it wasn’t hard to tell that they had the heart of the beast among them. They wielded cruel looking weapons and had that dark fire behind their eyes.

The last set of lycans lucretia had met were in Dahilia; they were cruel to the people they captured and crueler still to the families. She hoped for their sake that there was a lycan group or lycans that weren’t dark. That weren’t evil. It was frustrating to be set upon them so frequently but people held that judgement.

Seeing the tattoo on their shoulders and the big smug smiles they had it was no doubt to her that she would need to fight each and work her way up the ladder. The two ‘youngest’ were her first target. A sword fighter and a archer; both of which weren’t much of a problem once Lucretia bore down on them while the fighting kicked up.

The first target was the archer, cutting his string and his life line was important. So she’d start with one, forcing him to fight with the arrows before breaking those with a brutal stroke that cut him shoulder to hip. She grimaced as she saw his features contort as he tried to use that bit of energy left before she simply punched the sword down through his chest. Ending it prematurely.

She wasn’t told wrong; she wasn’t even surprised at this fact. But she grimaced as she felt a sword cut deep into her armor. Not quite hitting her but drawing her attention. A partial transformation stared at her in the face. Taller, bit more brutish. Air blasting out of his near beastial nostrils that stank like death.

They clashed, exchanging blows while she could feel the boring eyes of the beta and alpha upon her. The champion being the latter of the two she figured. She’d stare back at them while handling the younglings clumsy swipes. He barely met her gaze before she’d remove his head with a clean strike of her blade.

Hearing the roar from the champion and another voice yelping in surprise Lucretia grimly dug in her heels ready for this fight to go beyond what she anticipated...

The beta was the one to transform first, everyone around them yelping in surprise and scrambling away. Drawing her attention and she was forced to fight them while the champion and alpha watched on with abject hatred. No reason for him to get his hands dirty if a packmate could handle her. While he waded into combat with the other contenders Lucretia was left fighting tooth and nail against this lycan that transformed in broad daylight. Was it really acceptable now days for that?

It was hard to tell; maybe they wanted something more but the dark symbol on his shoulder brought her attention to his snarling face. The woman growled a bit and she’d kick the inside of the other’s knee, causing their attention to deviate from her sword for just a moment. She felt the solid strike of their claws against her leather and she grimaced as she could feel some of them puncture past it. Claws were seriously no joke!

But her sword descended quickly and she found it catching on the other’s collar bone. Howling in pain it’d practically slap her away. Her sword coming free while she clung onto it for dear life. Slamming down heavy and being separated from the beta she was grimly rewarded while other fighters went at the beast. Her eyes turned to the champion who was dealing with his own assortment of fighters. She could probably leave the beta for last actually…

Standing up she’d watch the contenders fight the beta before turning her attention to the champion. Walking with clear purpose towards him. She didn’t get too far before getting grabbed from behind and thrown aside like a rag doll by the beta. She’d slam hard down on the ground, skid a little bit and grimace as she watched them walk forward. Snorting in irritation she’d draw her hand back and throw her blade, it spinning and digging itself deep into the chest of the other. They stumbled and fell after a few more steps.

Lucretia grimly stood up and dusted herself off, spitting to one side before walking forward to claim her blade. Beyond she could hear the agitation in the champion’s voice as he challenged everyone to come at him at once… Which was an obvious trap for someone wielding such a huge blade!

She got to see many contenders cut down and many more lose their lives by this mad man. Growling to herself she’d push the body over and retrieve her sword; staring quietly at the man who was the one that held onto the title of champion.

Why was it that those that succumbed to the beast were always so wild like this? What drove them? She’d snarl and take off running towards him as she could hear his cries grow more beast like with each passing moment...

She got to see man after man cut down on her sprint, eventually she saw the bloody haze that the other was in and knew without a doubt his transformation was coming soon. The champion roared and cast his blade away. His body swelling in size and teh next roar was that of absolute hate. Directed at her. With a snarl she’d slide to a stop, bringing her sword up in a defensive posture.

She was driven back with each of his strikes and the contenders that helped her fight before briefly were there. Trying to help take off some of the pressure but one armed with a trident was thrown aside, his neck hanging at an unnatural angle once he landed. His eyes growing hazy as death quickly claimed him.

The next to fall was another with a weighted net, but Lucretia wasn’t going to let him go down without something he could smile proudly about later. She’d slice off the lycan’s hand at the wrist; drawing a howl of anger from them. Grimacing lightly she’d hop back from each one of those strikes. Snarling as she was caught and launched off her feet.

She was getting really sick of being treated like a rag doll.

But thankfully this time she was able to land on her feet a little bit better than all the other times. But her distance meant he’d crush the remaining contenders. Both sword wielders in their own right. The two of them were in classes of their own and it was sad to see gladiators like this cut down before they could grow further.

Snarling in anger she’d come after the champion again, meeting his claws and howls with roars and a blade of her own. Thankfully that wound wasn’t going to heal on it’s own while he was like this and she could see his swings getting weaker and weaker. If endurance or the like was the game she felt like she had the upper hand.

She’d dig in and block strike after strike, feeling her blade weaken after each and every blow. Biting her inner lip she’d wonder how long she had before she’d have to resort to something else...

The answer wasn’t very long. Her blade for the first time since getting it broke pretty close to the hilt. Snarling in irritation as she watch dthe glowing blade clatter to the ground she’d have to resort to stabbing into the lycan’s chest with the jagged bits.

Which didn’t really amount to much. She’d grimace a bit and hop backwards, eyeing the various weapons around her. The largest one was the champion’s own weapon but she wasn’t even sure how she’d handle a sword of that size without some training. So she’d have to scoop up a different sword to keep herself going.

That being the one of the second lycan’s; bringing a pained yet hateful glare from the champion. He’d bear down on her while the silence of the crowd permeated throughout the arena. She’d block the first strike only to find the blade practically snapping from the blow. Snorting to herself she’d grab the broken half and stab it into the champion’s shoulder. Bringing out a howl of pain.

She’d work like this for what felt like a few minutes, scooping up various weapons from the various fighters and stabbing it into the champion’s body somewhere. Eventually the man fell in front of her. Bleeding from the various wounds and glaring up at her while she stood above him. Him weakly grabbing one of her ankles.

Looking at her broken sword she’d flip it around and stab down through his neck. Hissing as she felt the pressure on her ankle increase… and then suddenly grow faint. She’d watch for a moment to make sure that he was dead before pulling her blade out from his neck. She didn’t feel proud of this fight; she didn’t like how many went down in comparison to the prior one. Sighing to herself she’d collect the other half of her blade and wonder to herself what else she could do for the people here…

If it was just nothing but culling champions she’d probably get bored quick. How she missed the proper hunts rather than where they practically danced around the lines of the laws by using events like this to feed or grow...