Silence.
Complete silence filled the arena.
No cheers.
No laughter.
No excitement.
Only the heavy smell of blood and the sound of Osric's rough breathing remained.
Piers' massive body lay motionless in the pit.
Dead.
One of the seven champions—
gone.
The referee stood frozen a few steps away.
His face had gone pale.
He had seen countless deaths in this arena before.
But not like this.
Not this brutal.
Not this deliberate.
His eyes slowly lifted toward Osric.
The young man was barely standing.
Blood covered parts of his face.
One arm hung lower than the other.
His breathing was uneven.
And yet—
his expression remained calm.
Cold.
Like he had simply done what was necessary.
The crowd slowly began reacting.
"…He killed him."
"The Wall is dead…"
"No fucking way…"
Some sounded shocked.
Others disturbed.
A few looked excited.
But most—
just stared.
Because everyone understood what they had witnessed tonight.
This wasn't an underdog victory.
This wasn't some heroic upset.
A monster had been dragged down—
by someone willing to become monstrous himself.
'He really did it.' Garrick thought, before moving.
Adam and Alice had similar thoughts and a newfound respect for Osric.
But not everyone was happy about this outcome.
Some of the organizers from the arena were present. They watched from above with irritated expressions. Among them was a high ranking officer of the Stoneclaw Gang.
The Stoneclaw Gang was the biggest criminal organization in Ashbrook and the ones who controlled this underground arena.
'Shit. Piers dying is a major loss to our earnings. The boss won't be happy about losing a champion.' The gang's officer thought.
'Who could've predicted this?'
Osric wiped the blood off his face.
"Huff."
'I can barely stand.'
He slowly stepped over the big corpse and walked out of the pit. Everyone was still watching him.
"Why is he walking out already?" Someone in the crowd wondered.
The old thug behind the betting booth right outside the pit, looking up in cold sweat. His eyes widened with fear.
The young man standing before him looked barely alive. His eyes dull but chilling.
Staring down at the thug.
The arm that he could still move, was raised.
The thug swallowed his saliva.
And just one word was uttered.
Quietly.
"Money."
"A-ah. Yes, of course."
After some hesitation, the man handed over a big money pouch with 76 silver coins inside.
"Here. These are your total earnings for winning the bet. Congratulations." He said while avoiding eye contact.
Osric stored the pouch in his pocket.
His eyesight became more blurry.
The remaining energy in his body was giving out and his balance was failing him.
But before he could collapse—
Garrick's hand reached out and helped him up.
"Hah. What a ridiculous kid."
"Securing your money before passing out."
Osric couldn't hear anything, as he was already unconscious.
Garrick carried him on his back and was about to leave the arena.
"Wait!"
The referee jogged towards them.
"He didn't get his actual win money from the fight yet."
"Oh right." Garrick responded.
"I'll take it for him."
He reached out one hand, while still having Osric on his back.
The referee hesitated but decided to just do it.
'I heard that he serves him now. So it shouldn't be a problem.'
'Plus it's best to wrap things up here after what happened.'
Garrick had already walked away.
Once outside. He looked inside the pouch.
"Just 12 silver for risking his life like that?"
"Tsk."
"Good thing that he bet on himself and earned a lot more."
This whole ordeal tonight was major news for everyone involved with the arena.
And the spectators had already started talking about everything that happened as soon as Garrick left with Osric on his back.
"That was incredible."
"Yeah. It's not that weird for someone to die here, but for it to be a champion?"
"Has that ever happened before?"
"I don't think so. The organizers wouldn't allow that and probably intervene before that occurs."
Someone else interjected. "Actually, it's happened once before."
"What?"
"Really?"
"Yes. About four years ago. One of the current champions killed a champion before becoming one himself."
"Holy shit."
"Who is it?"
"It's the person considered the strongest among the champions, with an undefeated record—
Harold."
The others got goosebumps.
"I see."
"That makes sense."
"Yeah. That guy is considered the strongest apprentice knight in Ashbrook."
"Only a knight can beat him."
What those spectators didn't realize—
Was that the man they were talking about, was standing not too far away from them.
Harold hid behind the crowd in the dark with a hood on.
'That was surprising. I didn't expect Piers to lose and definitely not dying.'
He grinned.
'I need Osric as one of my soldiers.'
He watched the organizers drag Piers' corpse away before disappearing himself.
—