Chapter 257: v3 - 18: the first duel III

Chapter 257: v3 Chapter 18: the first duel III

For a moment, neither man moved.

The crowd waited.

320 stood with both hands around his sword.

Across from him, the bald condemned man held the axe loosely at his side.

The weapon looked almost too large for him.

It wasn’t.

He handled it as though it weighed nothing.

A bell sounded.

320 moved first.

He stepped forward and swung.

The condemned man blocked.

The impact nearly knocked the sword from 320’s hands.

320 recovered quickly.

He stepped back.

The crowd shouted.

He attacked again.

This time, he aimed lower.

The condemned man shifted aside.

The axe came around.

320 barely avoided it.

The blade struck the sand where his leg had been.

320 stumbled backward.

His breathing changed.

Cassian noticed.

He was frightened.

Not enough to freeze.

But enough to make him hesitate.

That was dangerous.

The condemned man advanced.

320 raised his sword.

The axe came down.

320 blocked.

The force drove him to one knee.

He gritted his teeth and pushed upward.

The condemned man kicked him in the chest.

320 fell backward.

The crowd roared.

He scrambled to his feet.

His sword was still in his hand.

He looked toward the gates.

There was nowhere to run.

The condemned man smiled.

Then charged.

320 swung wildly.

The axe caught the sword.

The blade was knocked from his hands.

It landed several feet away.

320 froze.

The condemned man stepped toward him.

320 raised his hands.

He was trying to say something.

Perhaps surrender.

Perhaps mercy.

Cassian couldn’t hear him.

The crowd drowned him out.

The axe swung.

320 threw himself aside.

The blade missed his head but struck his upper arm.

He screamed.

He fell.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed.

320 clutched his arm.

He tried to crawl toward his sword.

The condemned man followed.

He wasn’t rushing.

He knew there was nowhere for his opponent to go.

320 reached for the sword.

His fingers closed around the hilt.

He turned.

The axe came down.

320 raised the sword desperately.

The impact drove him flat against the sand.

His sword slipped from his grasp.

The condemned man stood over him.

For one brief moment, he simply looked down.

Then he finished the fight.

The crowd exploded.

320 stopped moving.

The condemned man lowered his axe.

It was over.

Just like that.

Three months of training.

Three months of being fed.

Three months of being healed.

Three months of being taught how to fight.

And it had lasted only moments.

Cassian stared at the body.

He felt no satisfaction.

Only calculation.

The Arena had told them that their first duel would be different.

Now he understood what that meant.

The training had not made them equal to the men they would face.

It had only given them a chance.

The condemned man turned toward the crowd.

He raised his axe.

The stands erupted.

Bets were collected.

Others were paid.

The winner was led away.

320’s body remained where it had fallen.

Cassian looked toward Robert.

Robert’s face was pale.

He said nothing.

Neither did Cassian.

--

The announcer returned to the center.

The crowd quieted.

The second pair was called.

"Fighter Three Hundred and Twenty-One."

321 stepped forward.

Cassian watched him enter the Arena.

Across from him, condemned number two followed.

The man with the iron patch.

He walked slowly.

Almost casually.

His gaze settled on 321.

Then he smiled.

It was different from the smile of the first condemned man.

There was no hunger in it.

There was amusement.

Cassian’s attention sharpened.

The attendants brought the weapons.

321 selected a sword.

Condemned number two chose something else.

The bell sounded.

321 raised his sword.

Across from him, condemned number two held his weapon, a dagger.

Short.

Narrow.

Almost unimpressive compared with the blades used by the other fighters.

A murmur passed through the crowd.

321 looked at the dagger.

Then at the man holding it.

For the first time since entering the Arena, some confidence returned to his face.

Cassian noticed.

So did Robert.

The condemned man smiled.

He had noticed too.

The fight began.

321 moved first.

He swung.

Condemned number two slipped away.

321 turned and struck again.

The dagger flashed.

321 jerked backward.

A thin line of blood appeared across his sleeve.

He hadn’t even seen the movement.

The crowd roared.

321 stared at his arm.

The condemned man was already several steps away.

He twirled the dagger once between his fingers.

Then beckoned.

321 attacked again.

This time, he was more careful.

He kept his sword between them.

He knew he had the advantage in reach.

He pushed forward.

The condemned man retreated.

One step.

Two.

Three.

321 gained confidence.

He struck.

The condemned man moved inside his reach.

Too fast.

The dagger flashed again.

321 recoiled.

Another wound.

Then another.

Not deep.

Not immediately fatal.

But deliberate.

The condemned man wasn’t trying to finish the fight.

He was testing how much his opponent could endure.

The crowd loved it.

321 backed away.

His breathing grew uneven.

The condemned man followed.

He moved differently from the fighters Cassian had seen before.

There was no wasted motion.

No heavy strikes.

No dramatic swings.

Everything was close.

Fast.

Precise.

The dagger never left his hand.

321 tried to create distance.

The condemned man refused to give it to him.

He darted forward.

321 raised his sword.

The dagger slipped beneath it.

321 cried out and stumbled backward.

The crowd erupted.

The condemned man smiled.

321’s face had gone pale.

He looked toward the gates.

Then back at his opponent.

There was nowhere to go.

He raised his sword again.

The condemned man attacked.

321 blocked.

The dagger disappeared.

Then appeared again from another angle.

321 barely managed to protect himself.

He swung wildly.

The condemned man stepped aside.

321 nearly lost his balance.

The dagger struck again.

He staggered.

Cassian watched carefully.

The man with the eye patch wasn’t simply trying to kill him.

He was enjoying the process.

Every time 321 recovered, the condemned man gave him another opening.

Every time 321 tried to fight back, he punished him for it.

The fight continued.

321’s movements became slower.

His breathing became ragged.

His sword arm began to tremble.

The condemned man remained almost completely calm.

Then he stepped closer.

321 swung.

The condemned man slipped past the blade.

He caught 321’s wrist.

The dagger pressed against his side.

321 froze.

The crowd fell strangely quiet.

For a moment, it seemed the condemned man might finally end it.

Instead, he smiled.

He pulled the dagger away.

Then stepped back.

He wanted the fight to continue.

321 stared at him in disbelief.

The condemned man tilted his head.

Almost inviting him to attack.

321 did.

It was desperate now.

The condemned man avoided the sword.

One movement.

Then another.

321 stumbled.

His knees nearly gave way.

The condemned man approached slowly.

321 raised his weapon with what little strength remained.

The dagger flashed one final time.

321’s sword fell from his hand.

He sank to his knees.

The condemned man stood before him.

321 looked up.

His expression had changed completely.

There was no anger left.

Only exhaustion.

The condemned man looked toward the crowd.

They were screaming.

He seemed to savor every second of their attention.

Then he turned back.

The final blow came quickly.

321 collapsed.

The Arena erupted.

The condemned man stood over him for a moment before stepping away.

The attendants entered.

The body was removed.

The winner remained standing.

Cassian watched silently.

The first man had overwhelmed his opponent with strength.

This one had dismantled his opponent piece by piece.

Different methods.

Same result.

Robert exhaled slowly beside him.

"That was worse."

Cassian didn’t disagree.

--

Tbc