* * *
This is going to be an easy win.
I walk out of the gate with the boys, and on the other side of the arena, a lone man is approaching.
He’s a lot younger than I thought.
Looking at his face, I’d guess he’s around 20.
No. That’s impossible.
I’ve heard stories about him. They say he’s a beast in the arena. I can’t help but laugh when I see how he was sent out to fight. He’s holding some old stick in his hands, and he has practically no armor, wearing only a leather loincloth.
But those scars are intense.
Reluctantly, I had to admit it. His body is built solid.
But that doesn’t mean a thing. We have a solid plan for him. My buddy and I charge toward him. From behind, I hear the rest of the crew starting the bombardment with stones.
We’ve got this in the bag!
How could I not be thrilled? We got a nice payout for him, and this piece of trash won’t be able to handle fighting in melee and at range at the same time.
We trade blows. He parries my axe like it’s a toy. I feel a knot of unease inside. He took a hit from the first stone. I lunge at him again, but he blocks me once more, though this time I shattered his weapon.
And right then, I burst out laughing! He took a stone straight to the head. My buddy buries his sword into his ribs.
This son of a bitch won’t give up!
He starts thrashing chaotically, and the strangest thing is, he manages to dodge our subsequent attacks. We aim for arteries, tendons, and vital points, but the strikes always seem to just slide right off him. As if, at the last possible second, he bends in unnatural ways.
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Why is he still alive?!
Cold sweat drips down my face. I get goosebumps.
Something isn’t right...
I step back for a moment. My instinct tells me to run.
Am I… scared?!
I see him clearly. His hands are twitching unnaturally, as if he has no control over them. Tears are streaming from his eyes, and his face twists into a wild, feral smile.
He’s laughing...?!
* * *
From a young age, I took beatings for improper behavior. During training, I constantly fought fueled by emotion. They painfully taught me to fight for the crowd. To fight with a cold mind.
I couldn't break my nature, so I hid it deep within my consciousness. I didn't want to feel the pain anymore.
But now, in this moment, as more stones bounce off me. When I have a sword buried in my ribs.
I feel something snap inside me. Like a chain breaking in my mind.
I feel like time in the world has slowed its rhythm. I see the guy with the axe backing away. Why? I don't care. I stop thinking.
The guy with the sword is in front of me. I still feel it between my ribs. I strike his face with the broken end of my spear. He loses his balance, and the blade pulls free from my body. I don't waste time.
Immediately, with my other hand, I drive the sharpened end into his face. I pull it out.
I charge the second one with the axe. He swings. I throw the bottom piece of my weapon at him and roll to the side. I grab a handful of sand with my free hand. I throw it in his eyes as I stand. I quickly close the distance and drive the same sharpened end into his throat. It gets stuck. I take his axe.
I run low to the ground toward the guy with the sling. I roll when I see the stones. I'm close enough. The guy turns to run. I throw the axe with all my strength. I hit him dead in the center of his head and immediately sprint to the last one. Low to the ground. Almost on all fours.
He's terrified. He misses. He pulls a knife and charges me. I slam into him with full force. He buries the knife in my shoulder. Doesn't matter. I have him. I tackle him and instantly crush his throat with my foot.
It's over.
My ears are ringing. I can't catch my breath. I feel something heavy slam me to the dirt. Thick ropes. A net. My vision slowly blurs. I'm being dragged through the sand. I look up at the stands one last time. I see her there.
The dark-haired woman. Our eyes meet. I don't remember anything else.
