Vol II, Ch 61 – In which decisions and dubious choices were made, a-and this is totally not my fault!

I stared through the open gates into the arena and fidgeted in my too-small white dress.

They were quick to set up a fight for me, the apparent novelty of having a vyxa participating far too tantalizing to miss, despite their reservations. Unfortunately, in their rush, the demon in charge of preparing everything didn’t bother to listen to my requests for armor or a blade that was sized for me, instead pushing me out to the gates into the arena with almost nothing but my skimpy dress and a mace. Notably, a mace that was just a bit too big and heavy for me to realistically use. I had my suspicions that it was all very much intentional on their part. It had to be.

Grumbling to myself, I was already starting to regret my decision to do this.

The mace I could work with. The dress, however…

It was going to be a problem. Not because it was so snug that it restricted movement. In fact, I could move quite well in it, despite how skintight it was. Nor was the lack of actual armor really an issue, since they’d given me a necklace and several bracelets that were supposed to work alongside many of the enchantments in the arena itself to prevent me from becoming too seriously injured. It was more the fact that any excessive movements had the dress quickly riding up, showing off the thin, skimpy panties I had beneath. Panties that also had a tendency to ride up more than I preferred to admit.

Until recently, I’d been able to ignore it. That was about to become really difficult.

The ripped cloak, while functional, would only get in the way even more. As much as I wanted to hide in it, I’d deliberately left it back in the staging room instead. Somehow I suspected that one of the arena staff would have insisted upon it regardless. They wanted me as much, if not more for my sex appeal than for my ability to fight.

The thought of me having “sex appeal” was still weird to me, despite having been a succubus for… How long had it been now? Over two weeks, I was certain.

I sighed, shifting from foot to foot nervously as I waited for things to finally begin. To think that they’d not just stick me into a fight the same day, but well within an hour of me signing up!

I glared over at Ofnan, as though this were all his fault. It wasn’t, of course. I’d intentionally put myself in this situation, needing the money. He at least seemed unsure and perhaps a bit uncomfortable, a stark contrast to his previously jovial temperament. It made me feel a little better. Almost. He had the unfortunate role of being my aide and translator, by virtue of being one of the few demons around that both worked at the arena and could speak my language.

The downside of his presence was that I couldn’t adjust things down below without him seeing it. And while I didn’t mind pulling down my dress, I was doing my best to ignore the way my panties pulled tightly up between my legs. It was going to be difficult to not continually flash the crowd of demons.

With it having been several days since I last drank blood, I was a little ashamed to admit that the whole situation was doing things for me that I didn’t want to admit to. The idea of so many people catching glimpses of me… Did it really have to feel so flustering and oddly exciting?

I bit my lip, shifting from foot to foot. Then the loud voice of an announcer echoed through the open gate in front of me, and Ofnan gave his best attempt at a translation. In my head, I put together a more articulate version to reflect what was likely being said.

“We have quite the treat for this next fight. Something I’m not sure we’ve ever had before here at the Asphodel Arena. You are all familiar with Thorn, the Flame Lasher, who has been quickly rising in popularity. Today, he’ll be facing someone completely new, and not just anyone.” He paused dramatically, teasing the audience.

“To give our new warrior a little bit of a tail up, we’ve disallowed the usage of magic for this fight.” A series of shouts and boos followed. “Now, don’t run off just yet folks. I think you’re going to want to see the reason for yourself.”

“Here on the north side, is the Thorn, the lasher of air and fire himself.”

A small series of cheers and shouts erupted from the crowd of watchers, but not an overwhelming amount. Which lined up well with the fact that I was facing one of the weaker opponents—a fact that was perfectly fine with me. I knew I could be rather prideful, but I had no illusions that I was so strong I could take on the champion fighters of a demonic arena.

“And from the south gate, let us welcome in for the very first time, the Vyxa in White!” Ofnan gave me a nod and continued, “That is your signal. Good luck, and be careful.”

I gave him a nod back and ran down the small hall through the gate, holding the mace in both hands so that I didn’t drag it through the dirt. There was a short cheer after the announcer’s words that quickly turned into questioning murmurs. Then I entered into the light of the arena where everyone could see me. It started small, with just one or two shouts. Then the sounds of the crowd grew, cheers mixed with whistles and a number of unfamiliar noises and shouts.

…I suspected that I didn’t want to know what any of it meant.

My eyes scanned the crowd as I continued forward, surprised to find that it had doubled in the past hour. Surely they all weren’t here to see me, were they? Had rumor of the match spread? I felt hyper-aware of their stares and was wishing all the more that I’d insisted on some actual armor. Tightly gripping the mace, I ignored the desire to tug at my dress.

With a laugh, the announcer continued, though I could no longer understand him without my helpful translator. I did hear their language’s version of “Vyxa in White” again, the title they’d given me in their rush to organize the fight.

It was obviously a reference to my white dress, but also apparently a play on words of some kind in their language. I just hoped it wasn’t something crude, given that Ofnan didn’t ever stop to actually explain it to me. With my luck, it was probably a bad innuendo, or something equally obscene. I almost froze as I realized it could very well be a reference to cum of all things. Oh gods, I hoped it wasn’t.

Fidgeting, I came to a stop near the arena’s center and turned my gaze to my opponent. At first, I thought he was an ogre, but I quickly realized his horns were all wrong, poking out and forward. A thick brown fur seemed to cover most of his body, and his two legs ended in large hooves rather than feet.

He approached me, making it evident that like most demons, he was a fair bit larger than me. Thankfully, it wasn’t to the same degree as some. He looked just barely a bit taller than what I would consider a normal human height. His leather armor was minimal, and rather than a normal weapon, at his side was a whip of all things. Notably, he didn’t look to have any items to protect him similar to what they’d given me, unless they were just hidden.

The apparent special treatment annoyed me. They expected him to handily win, I was sure. Which was possible, sure, but I planned to at least put up quite the fight.

The demon held out a hand. “Hello! I hear that you speak the human language Thelsian.”

“Yes,” I said with a nod, my momentary surprise almost making me forget to grab his hand.

He gripped my small palm between both of his. Rather than the handshake I was expecting, however, the demon raised our hands up and gave a polite nod that was almost more of a bow. “I am Festh. May we both fight fair and true.”

I realized demons probably didn’t do handshakes, at least not in the way that I was used to. “Umm, right. I’m Ruby. And umm, yes, the same.”

In the background, the announcer continued, but I tuned him out. It wasn’t as though I could understand him either way.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, releasing my hand. “I am not used to interacting with vyxa. Normally I would rile up a new fighter and tell them to just quit, but I feel I must apologize instead.” He looked off to the side, coughing awkwardly as I gave him a confused stare. “They told me to strip you.”

I blinked. “Wait, what—”

“I hope that you will not hold it against me,” He interrupted me, his eyes turning toward whatever the announcer was saying. “Sorry, it seems we’re out of time. Good luck!”

Then turning his back to me, he moved to his starting mark on the ground, a simple circle glowing in the dirt.

“W-wait! What did you mean?” I tried to shout, but the sudden cheer of the still-growing crowd overshadowed it.

Groaning in frustration, I moved to my own spot. It wasn’t as though I needed an explanation. I knew exactly what he meant. I tugged my dress down before lifting the mace up in both hands.

This just gave me all the more reason to win, didn’t it? My thoughts drifted to a vision of me half naked with the eyes of the crowd all over me.

The distracting image made me want to squirm, and I almost missed it as the announcer shouted the demonic word to “Fight!”

My attention shot to my opponent as a loud chime rang out, and our battle officially began.