Blood for the Blood Gods: A Skepnoblade Fanfic (ON HIATUS)

Chapter Twenty-One

The men and women stood in a circle in their respected platforms, waiting for them to be lowered so the game would begin. The MCC consisted of three challenges: parkour, where everyone would run a course and the first five to make it move on, then a sort of battle royale where the last two remaining continue, and finally, a shooting competition.

Next to Dave stood Wilbur and Phil, who were standing and facing a bit forwards, ready to leap out at the right moment.

A bell rang, and the platforms started to rise up. Dave took a deep breath and steadied himself. Just concentrate. You can do this.

Once all the platforms were risen, the bell rang again, and the race started.

Dave leapt forward and jumped to the first platform, neck and neck with Wilbur. He gained a steady rhythm, and quickly left Wilbur in the dust.

The next part was a rope swing, and Dave neared the three currently in lead. He didn't bother to see who they were, and was intent only on passing them.

He jumped to the first rope, sliding down it suddenly. His hands burned as they rubbed against the thick twine, but he scrabbles back up and jumped to the next one.

He passed the person in third place, swinging to the next platform and running to the final part of this race: the flight course.

He shrugged on a glider quickly, grasping onto the straps nervously. There were things to cushion his fall if his glider did malfunction, but Dave wasn't keen on crashing into hay bales and throwing away his prize.

Next to him, a man who called himself TapL got his own glider and jumped off the platform without hesitation. With one final flicker of doubt in his mind, Dave followed suit.

He soared downwards, twisting upwards at the last second to land on the final platform. He landed in a roll and stood up quickly, surveying the people who had made it before him.

TapL and a person who's back was turned to him had made it before him, putting him in third place.

Better than last, he told himself, taking off the glider and standing on the platform to take him to the next part.

His mind wandered as he stood there waiting for the next contestants to qualify, and all thoughts were on Zak.

"Idiot," he muttered, trying to focus on the competition. Phil, who had just came, shot him a quizzical look.

The platform started to rise again, and Fabe glanced around at the next qualifiers. TapL, him, Phil, Finn/Rose, Darryl, a man he was a bit friendly with named Calvin, and some others he didn't know.

Another bell rang, and Dave snapped back to reality, bolting forwards. This was the free-for-all, basically a shoving match on a large platform. He heard a yelp, and heard many splashes. Already half the competition was gone. The crowd, who was silent for most of the match so far, murmured worriedly. Dave has to agree. He barely saw any movement from where he was, and it seemed someone had interfered with the match.

The pig looked around at the remaining opponents. Darryl, Phil, TapL, and a girl he didn't recognize.

Darryl sprinted towards him, and he jerked away, elbowing the green-eyed male and sending him down into the water. He heard a splash, and saw a flash of blonde hair as the girl was pushed off by TapL. She grabbed his ankle, sending them both flying downwards.

Phil tipped his hat, looking around. "That was...unusually easy. Went very quick...too quick..."

Dave nodded in agreement, narrowing his eyes. Something seemed very off.

They were bustled into their respective platforms, going to the very last level. The pig had to admit, he didn't expect him and Phil to be the last ones. He would've expected maybe TapL, or Darryl. That man was formidable. But Phil? He was more casual, laid-back. How did he get this far? No matter.

The platforms shuddered to a stop, and they walked to two ends of the final platform. They got their quivers and bows as the crowd cheered, mostly for Phil. Understandable. The king was well-loved.

The bell rang for a final time, and Dave drew his bow, his first arrow already nocked. It fell short, and Phil aimed his for the pig's knee. He jumped backwards as the arrow flew, drawing his bow again for his second shot.

They traded shots for this one, nearing the bottom of their quivers. They both had about two left, and it was clear Phil wasn't gonna go out easily.

Dave shivered, a cold gust of wind suddenly buffeting him. His quiver felt heavier, and he drew another arrow to fire at his opponent.

If only he had seen the crisp envelope that had appeared on his pillow just then.

If only he'd seen the tip of his arrow that now gleamed.

If only he'd paused and looked at the silver tip before letting go.

If only he'd aimed for the chest instead of the throat.

Sorry if this chapter sucks school started and it's been kinda hectic. Expect weekly uploads from now on, most likely on Fridays or Saturdays. Stay safe!