Klen lowered himself into a fighting stance, his gray eyes never leaving Holwas. Around him, dozens of guards tightened their grips around their weapons, forming a circle that slowly began to close in. The arena had fallen into complete silence, every spectator waiting for someone to make the first move.
"Let's begin."
The words had barely left his mouth before Klen lunged forward. The guards closest to him instinctively raised their shields, but they were already too late. Klen slipped between them like flowing water, his longsword flashing from its sheath in one smooth motion. Steel clashed against steel as he parried a spear thrust aimed at his chest, spun around its shaft and drove his elbow into the wielder's jaw. The man's helmet rang loudly before he collapsed backward into another guard.
A sword came whistling toward the side of his head. Klen leaned just enough for the blade to skim past his cheek. Before its owner could recover, Klen caught the guard's wrist, twisted it until a sickening crack echoed through the arena, and shoved the screaming man directly into two more charging soldiers.
"Surround him!" one of the captains shouted. "Don't give him any room to move!"
The circle tightened. Three spears thrust toward him at once. Klen planted one foot against a fallen shield, vaulted over the attack and landed behind the formation. His sword swept in a wide arc, striking the backs of their legs. Armor clattered against stone as the three men fell simultaneously.
The audience erupted into cheers.
"He isn't even slowing down!"
"How is one boy doing this?"
"Where did Holwas even find someone like him?"
High above the arena, several nobles leaned forward in their seats. "I never expected Holwas to be here himself." "So did I." "And yet he's here himself..." One elderly noble folded his arms, never taking his eyes off the arena. "I've attended these games for over a decade," he said, his expression slowly hardening. "I've never seen Holwas enter the arena himself."
Nearby, another noble chuckled into his wine. "Perhaps the boy actually interests him."
At the center of it all, Holwas remained perfectly still. His hands rested behind his back as if he were watching a stage play rather than a battlefield.
"Interesting," he murmured. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "His physical enhancement is remarkably efficient."
Klen ducked beneath another slash, drove his shoulder into the attacker's chest and sent him sprawling before kicking a spear off the ground. Catching it in midair, he hurled it across the arena. The weapon struck another guard squarely in the shield, knocking him completely off his feet.
"Though crude," Holwas continued, watching every movement carefully. "He pours far too much mana into each burst."
Another guard charged. Klen sidestepped, grabbed the man's shoulder and used him as a shield as arrows suddenly rained from the upper balconies. The unfortunate soldier collapsed, riddled with arrows before he even understood what had happened. Klen shoved the body aside.
"You bastards!" he shouted, looking toward the balcony where the archers stood. "You don't care who you hit?!"
Holwas answered for them. "They're expendable."
Klen's jaw tightened. "Of course they are."
A roar interrupted him. Six more guards rushed him from different directions. Klen inhaled sharply before throwing himself back into the fight. Steel rang throughout the arena. Every second brought another attack. Another dodge. Another parry. His movements were fast enough to leave afterimages in the eyes of ordinary spectators. Whenever one guard thought he'd cornered him, Klen was already somewhere else, weaving effortlessly through the battlefield.
Then the Shadow's voice echoed in his mind. "Klen. Duck."
Without questioning her, he immediately lowered his body. A halberd swept over his head. The guard carrying it stumbled as his weapon missed.
"Now," she said.
Dark tendrils burst from beneath the soldier's feet. They wrapped around his ankles just long enough to pull his balance away. The man crashed face-first into another group of guards, scattering them across the arena floor. The tendrils disappeared as quickly as they had come. Klen didn't even look at them. He simply kept moving.
"Thanks," he muttered.
The Shadow smiled faintly. "I told you before. Magic isn't only about overwhelming power. Sometimes, changing the flow of a battle is more than enough."
Klen answered between heavy breaths. "I'm starting to understand that."
He ducked beneath another sword, driving his fist into a guard's stomach before smashing the pommel of his longsword against the side of the man's helmet. The guard crumpled instantly.
Holwas quietly chuckled. "He's learning."
One of the nobles overheard him. "You sound proud."
Holwas didn't deny it. "I am."
The noble blinked. "He's trying to kill you."
Holwas's smile never faded. "No," he said. "He believes he is."
A dozen more guards charged simultaneously. Klen's expression hardened. "Come on!"
The soldiers surrounded him from every direction. This time there was no room to dodge. He raised his sword, knocking aside one strike before elbowing another attacker away. A shield slammed into his ribs hard enough to force the air from his lungs. He stumbled. A spear immediately followed.
The Shadow spoke again. "Left."
Klen twisted. The spear barely grazed his shoulder instead of piercing it. He retaliated instantly, kicking the shaft aside before slamming the hilt of his sword into its owner's face. Blood sprayed across the stone floor. Another sword descended. He blocked it. A second. A third. The impacts traveled through his arms until his muscles screamed in protest.
"Damn it," he muttered.
For the first time since entering the arena, he couldn't counterattack. The guards had finally adapted. Instead of charging recklessly, they attacked in carefully timed waves, forcing Klen to defend one strike after another.
Holwas noticed immediately. "There it is."
The noble beside him frowned. "There is what?"
"The beginning," Holwas replied. He watched Klen's shoulders rise and fall with each increasingly labored breath. "He's slowing down."
As if to prove his point, Klen narrowly avoided another slash. The blade still managed to cut through the sleeve of his shirt, leaving a shallow line across his arm. He clicked his tongue. "Shit."
His breathing had grown noticeably heavier. Every burst of enhanced speed demanded mana. Every dodge demanded concentration. Every swing of his sword pulled a little more strength from his exhausted body.
The Shadow looked at him quietly. "You're burning through your mana too quickly."
"I know," he replied between ragged breaths. "I'm trying to end this before—"
A horn echoed throughout the arena. Klen froze for only a fraction of a second. The massive arena gates slowly began to open once more. Heavy footsteps echoed through the entrance. Another squad of guards marched into the arena. Behind them, another. And another. Klen stared at the seemingly endless stream of armored soldiers entering the battlefield.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he breathed.
The guards already surrounding him stepped aside, allowing the reinforcements to fill every gap. Within moments, the circle around Klen had doubled. Then tripled.
Holwas slowly clapped once. The sound echoed across the silent arena. "You've done remarkably well," he said, his calm voice carrying effortlessly through the battlefield. "In fact, I think you've earned..." He paused just long enough for every eye in the arena to turn toward him. "...one more show for the audience."
Holwas lowered his hand, and the arena gates creaked open once more. Klen expected another wave of guards. Instead, chains rattled. A long line of frightened slaves stumbled into the arena, each one surrounded by armed soldiers. Their wrists were still bound with iron shackles, their clothes stained with dirt and dried blood from years of captivity.
Klen's heart sank. "No..." His voice barely escaped his lips.
The guards forced the slaves into a line before the entire audience. The nobles looked on with amused curiosity, whispering among themselves as if they were watching another performance. Then Klen's eyes widened. Two familiar figures were dragged forward.
Marna. Eira. Their hands were bound behind their backs while two guards forced them onto their knees. Cold steel rested against their throats, the blades pressing just enough to draw thin lines of blood.
Klen didn't answer. His grip around his longsword tightened until his knuckles turned white. The guards surrounding him slowly stopped attacking, leaving only enough distance to ensure he couldn't reach the prisoners in time.
Holwas smiled. "There they are," he said, his calm voice echoing throughout the arena. "The people you've been risking your life for."
Klen slowly turned toward him. "You bastard..."
Holwas ignored the insult. "I've always admired your determination, Klen. Even after everything I put you through, you still insist on protecting others." He spread his arms toward the prisoners. "Tell me. Was it worth it?"
Klen's breathing grew heavier. "Leave them out of this."
Holwas tilted his head slightly. "Leave them out of this?" He chuckled quietly. "I believe I already told you how I play this game." His gaze swept across the kneeling slaves. "Every piece on the board has value. Some fight. Some obey. And some..." His smile widened. "...simply motivate the others."
Klen's eyes burned with hatred. "They're not pieces. They're people."
Holwas laughed. "And yet people are far easier to manipulate." He looked toward the guards holding Marna and Eira. "You see? I haven't even threatened them. I merely placed a sword against their necks. And you've already forgotten every opponent standing around you."
The realization struck Klen a heartbeat too late. A shield slammed into his back. The impact sent him stumbling forward. Before he could recover, another guard buried the hilt of his sword into Klen's ribs. Pain exploded through his side. A third soldier kicked the back of his knee. Klen dropped onto one leg.
"Move!" he shouted.
A spear lunged toward his chest. He barely managed to knock it aside. Another blade immediately followed. Then another. Then another. The attacks came from every direction. His rhythm was gone. The guards had been waiting for this exact moment.
A sword sliced across his shoulder. Another carved into his side. Blood splattered across the arena floor.
"Damn it!" Klen swung wildly, forcing several guards backward, but three more immediately filled the opening. Someone drove a knee into his stomach. Air escaped his lungs. He staggered again.
The audience erupted into cheers. The spectacle had returned. The nobles leaned forward in excitement, delighted that the fight had suddenly turned against the young warrior. Holwas simply watched, expressionless, calculating.
The Shadow appeared beside Klen, only visible to him, her crimson eyes fixed upon the battlefield. "You've completely lost your composure," she said.
Klen shoved another guard away before narrowly avoiding a spear aimed at his neck. "You think I don't know that?!" His voice cracked with frustration. "They'll kill them! If I stop watching them for even a second—"
"They already have you exactly where they want you," she interrupted, her tone cold. "They don't need to touch Marna or Eira. They only need you to believe they will."
Klen gritted his teeth. Another sword slammed against his own. His exhausted arms trembled from the impact. "I can't ignore them."
"I'm not asking you to," she replied. "I'm telling you to think."
Klen blocked another strike before kicking its owner backward.
"You've always fought with your heart," the Shadow continued, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Now fight with your head."
A guard charged from behind. Without looking, Klen instinctively ducked. The man's blade sailed harmlessly overhead before embedding itself into another guard's shield.
The Shadow continued. "Holwas isn't stronger because he has more magic. He's stronger because you're fighting exactly the battle he wants."
Klen's breathing gradually steadied. His eyes slowly shifted away from Marna, away from Eira, toward Holwas.
The noble smiled. He had noticed. "There you are."
Klen took one slow breath, then another. "You're right," he said quietly. He lowered his sword. The surrounding guards frowned. "I've been dancing to his tune this entire time."
The Shadow smiled. "And now?"
Klen's gray eyes became frighteningly calm. "Now I'm done playing his game."
He reached behind his waist. The soft scrape of steel echoed through the arena. His kodachi slid free into his left hand. His longsword remained in his right.
The guards hesitated. Even Holwas's smile faded for the first time. "Dual wielding?" he asked.
Klen rolled his shoulders. "Screw this."
The next instant, he disappeared. The nearest guard barely had time to widen his eyes before the kodachi sliced across his throat. Blood burst into the air. The man collapsed without a sound.
Klen froze. For the briefest moment, he stared at the body. "I..." His chest tightened. "I killed him..."
The silence lasted less than a second. Another guard lunged. Klen instinctively raised his longsword. The blade pierced straight through the soldier's chest. Warm blood poured over his hands. The man's terrified eyes met Klen's. "Why..." His body went limp.
Klen pulled the blade free. His hands trembled. "I never... I never wanted this..."
The Shadow watched him quietly. "You still don't."
Another guard charged. Then another. Then five more. Klen closed his eyes, just for a heartbeat. When they opened again, they were colder. "If I hesitate," he whispered, "they die."
The kodachi flashed. Another guard fell. The longsword followed. Another. Another. Another. Steel rang against steel. Cries echoed throughout the arena. Blood sprayed across white hair that had once been untouched by violence. Every step Klen took left bloody footprints across the stone. He stopped trying to count. Stopped trying to remember their faces. Every swing became one desperate thought. Keep them alive. Nothing else mattered.
Minutes later, silence slowly settled over the battlefield. Bodies covered the arena floor. Some still groaned in pain. Others would never rise again. Blood pooled around Klen's boots, reflecting the afternoon sunlight like crimson glass. His breathing was ragged. Blood dripped from both blades. His clothes were soaked. So was his face.
He slowly raised his head. The guards holding the prisoners stood frozen. None of them dared move. Klen pointed his bloodstained longsword toward them. "Drop your weapons."
Nobody obeyed. He took one step forward. "I said..." His voice carried through the silent arena. "...drop the fucking weapons."
Fear finally won. One sword clattered against the stone. Then another. The guards backed away from the prisoners. Klen didn't even look at them. He spoke to the slaves instead. "Get out of here."
Nobody moved. One elderly man stepped forward, tears filling his tired eyes. "What about you, son?"
Klen finally looked at him. His expression softened, only slightly. "I'm not asking. I'm ordering you." He pointed toward Marna and Eira. "Take them. Take everyone who's still breathing. And don't look back."
The old man nodded. "So what about you?"
Klen slowly turned back toward Holwas. His grip tightened around both swords. "I've still got one bastard left to kill."
The last guard lowered his sword with shaking hands. The slaves wasted no time. Some helped the wounded to their feet while others hurried toward Marna and Eira, lifting the unconscious girls between them. They didn't dare thank Klen. One look at the blood covering his clothes told them this wasn't a moment for words. Klen kept both weapons raised.
"Go," he said.
The old slave who had spoken before hesitated. "What about you?"
Without turning around, Klen answered quietly. "I'm ending this."
The old man nodded once. The group began running toward the arena gates. For the first time since entering the arena, Klen allowed himself to breathe.
A slow clap echoed through the arena. Holwas. "Touching," he said, his smile never faltering. "You've always had a weakness for people."
Klen didn't respond.
"You think you've won something," Holwas continued. He sighed. "I suppose it's time to remind you where you are."
He disappeared. Not ran. Not dashed. Disappeared. Klen's eyes widened. "What—"
A scream erupted near the arena gate. The escaping slaves collapsed one after another as invisible force struck them aside. Those who remained conscious stumbled back in terror before another unseen impact threw them across the stone floor. Marna and Eira never reached the exit.
Holwas stood there as though he'd always been waiting for them. One hand gripped Marna by the hair. The other held Eira the same way. Both girls hung limply, still unconscious. The entire arena fell silent. Klen hadn't even seen him move.
"No," Klen breathed.
Holwas looked toward him. "You disappoint me." He casually lifted the two girls a little higher. "I told you. Every piece has a purpose."
Klen's grip tightened until his hands trembled. "You fucking monster..."
Holwas smiled. "And yet they're alive. For now." He looked at Marna, then Eira. "Become my champion. I'll make certain they never suffer another day."
Klen laughed. Not because it was funny. Because he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "You expect me to believe a single fucking word that comes out of your mouth?"
Holwas shrugged. "You don't have to believe me. You only have to obey."
Klen exploded forward. The arena floor cracked beneath his feet. Both blades flashed toward Holwas. Holwas stepped aside with almost insulting ease. The longsword carved through empty air. The kodachi followed immediately. Missed again. Holwas never drew a weapon. He simply walked between every strike as though he already knew where each blade would be.
Klen pressed harder. His attacks became faster. Sharper. More desperate. Every slash carried enough force to split stone. Holwas continued avoiding them with effortless precision.
"You rely too much on strength," Holwas said. Another swing. "You telegraph your intentions." Another. "You're letting your emotions dictate your movements."
Klen roared and swung both blades together. Holwas finally raised a hand. One finger stopped inches from Klen's forehead. Klen froze. "What?"
Holwas flicked him. The smallest motion imaginable. The impact felt like being struck by a battering ram. Klen was hurled across the arena, smashing through broken stone before bouncing across the floor. He tried to force himself upright. His vision doubled. Before he could recover, a hand closed around his throat. Holwas lifted him effortlessly before driving him headfirst into the arena floor. The stone exploded beneath the impact. Air left Klen's lungs. His swords slipped from his hands. Holwas planted a boot against the side of Klen's face, forcing him back into the shattered ground.
The noble stands had gone completely quiet. No one cheered. No one laughed. They simply watched. Holwas crouched beside him, his voice never rising above a calm conversation. "Look at yourself. You've fought bravely. You've survived things that should have killed you. And for what?" He leaned closer. "So you can die in the dirt like every other fool who believed he could change the world?"
Klen glared at him. Holwas smiled. "You have talent. More talent than Two-Faced ever possessed. It would be such a waste to kill you." He gently patted Klen's shoulder. "Become my champion. Fight for me. I'll give your strength purpose."
Klen spat blood onto the ground between them. "Go," he coughed violently before forcing himself to continue. "Go fuck yourself."
For the first time, Holwas's smile thinned. "So be it."
He pressed his boot down harder. Pain shot through Klen's skull.
The Shadow finally spoke. Her voice was colder than Klen had ever heard. "Enough."
A dark tendril burst from the shattered arena floor. It wrapped around Holwas's ankle and ripped him backward. He landed several meters away before smoothly regaining his footing. Klen pushed himself onto one knee. Blood dripped steadily onto the stone beneath him. Behind him, the shadows began to move. One tendril emerged. Then another. Then another. They rose like black pillars around him, writhing as if alive. The spectators recoiled. Even the guards took involuntary steps backward.
Klen slowly picked up his longsword. Then his kodachi. He pointed both blades toward Holwas. His voice was low, steady, filled with a fury unlike anything he'd felt before. "You know what pisses me off the most? It isn't what you did to me." He took one step forward. "It's what you've done to everyone else. You call them pawns. You call them tools. You throw them away the moment they stop being useful." His grip tightened. "They're people. And I'll be damned if I let this place become one more grave because of you."
The tendrils stretched higher, darkening the arena around him. "I don't care if I walk out of this arena alive. I don't care if this is where my story ends." He lowered himself into another stance. "But one way or another, this ends with you."
Holwas looked at the writhing sea of shadows. For several long seconds, he said nothing. Then a slow smile returned to his face. "Excellent." He spread his arms as if welcoming the next act. "Now show me everything you've got."