Chapter 260: v3 - 21: the first duel VI

Chapter 260: v3 Chapter 21: the first duel VI

Robert stepped into the Arena.

The crowd responded immediately.

His name—or rather, his number—had already caught their attention.

Three hundred and twenty-seven.

The youngest of the six.

The one they had cheered for most loudly when they were introduced.

Now they wanted to see whether he could justify it.

Cassian watched from the edge of the Arena.

Robert walked with an ease that hadn’t been there three months ago.

He wasn’t stiff.

He wasn’t cautious.

He looked comfortable.

That surprised Cassian.

Then again, Robert had always moved differently from the others.

Quick.

Light on his feet.

Even during training, he had rarely tried to overpower anyone.

He slipped around them.

Waited for openings.

Struck where they weren’t expecting it.

Before the Arena, Robert had worked as a mercenary escort.

It wasn’t the same as being a soldier.

It wasn’t the same as years of military training.

But he had traveled with armed men.

He had protected people.

He had fought.

He knew what it meant to have someone trying to hurt him.

Three months in the training grounds had simply given him a better understanding of how to do it here.

The announcer called the other fighter.

"Condemned Number Five."

The younger-looking man stepped into the Arena.

He looked almost ordinary beside the others.

No massive frame.

No obvious scars.

No intimidating weapon.

His expression remained empty as he approached.

The crowd seemed less excited by him.

Perhaps that was exactly what he wanted.

The attendants brought the weapons.

Robert chose a sword.

Condemned number five chose a shorter blade.

They took their positions.

The bell sounded.

Robert moved.

Fast.

He crossed the distance before his opponent seemed ready.

Their blades met.

The condemned man blocked.

Robert immediately withdrew.

The man swung.

Robert stepped aside.

The blade passed in front of him.

Robert was already moving again.

He attacked from the opposite side.

The condemned man blocked.

Robert retreated.

Then advanced.

The exchange happened so quickly that the crowd reacted a moment late.

Robert wasn’t trying to overpower him.

He was making him turn.

Making him chase.

Making him spend energy.

The condemned man lunged.

Robert slipped to the side.

His sword struck the man’s shoulder.

A sharp cry escaped him.

The crowd roared.

Robert didn’t stop.

He circled.

The condemned man turned with him.

Robert attacked again.

The man blocked.

Robert’s blade slid away.

He stepped back.

The condemned man charged.

Robert waited until the last possible moment.

Then moved.

The man passed him.

Robert turned.

His sword struck the back of the man’s leg.

The condemned man stumbled.

Robert was already in front of him.

One strike.

The man’s weapon fell.

He dropped to one knee.

The crowd erupted.

Robert stood over him.

The condemned man looked up.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then the man tried to reach for his fallen weapon.

Robert kicked it away.

The condemned man looked toward him.

Robert raised his sword.

There was no hesitation.

The final strike came quickly.

The man collapsed.

The Arena exploded.

Robert stood still for a moment.

Then lowered his sword.

The entire fight had lasted only minutes.

Cassian watched him carefully.

Robert looked toward the crowd.

Then toward the place where Cassian stood.

Their eyes met.

Robert gave him a small grin.

Cassian shook his head almost imperceptibly.

He was still Robert.

Just a faster version of him.

The attendants entered.

They removed the body.

Robert was led toward the edge of the Arena.

The announcer raised his hand again.

The crowd was already restless.

Only one introductory duel remained.

Three hundred and twenty-three.

Cassian looked toward the final newcomer.

323 had been standing quietly throughout the other matches.

He had watched everything.

The deaths.

The injuries.

The victories.

Now there was no one left between him and the Arena.

The announcer called his number.

"Three hundred and twenty-three."

323 stepped forward.

The crowd responded with scattered cheers.

Nothing like Robert’s.

He walked toward the center.

Cassian watched him go.

The final condemned man waited opposite him.

Number six.

The ordinary-looking man.

The one whose eyes had never stopped measuring the newcomers.

He stepped forward.

There was no smile.

No obvious excitement.

Only that same unsettling stillness.

The two men reached the center.

The attendants brought the weapons.

323 chose a sword.

Condemned number six chose one as well.

The crowd quieted.

Cassian watched carefully.

There was something different about the final condemned man.

The others had revealed themselves quickly.

Strength.

Cruelty.

Unpredictability.

This man had revealed nothing.

The bell sounded.

323 attacked.

The condemned man blocked.

323 attacked again.

Blocked.

Again.

The two exchanged blows.

323 was competent.

More than competent.

He had learned quickly during the three months of training.

His footwork was clean.

His guard was disciplined.

But the man facing him had something that couldn’t be taught in three months.

Experience.

The condemned man began controlling the pace.

323 tried to increase it.

He attacked harder.

The condemned man waited.

Then struck.

323 stumbled.

He recovered.

The crowd shouted.

He attacked again.

The condemned man moved aside.

Their swords crossed.

323 pushed forward.

The condemned man twisted his blade.

323’s sword was knocked away.

He froze.

The condemned man stepped forward.

323 tried to retreat.

There was nowhere to go.

The final exchange was brief.

323 fell.

The Arena erupted.

Cassian stared at the body.

--

Robert had survived.

325 had survived.

Cassian had survived.

The other three newcomers had not.

The crowd didn’t care.

They were already cheering the winners.

Three Arena fighters remained.

Three condemned men remained.

Cassian looked toward Robert.

Robert was watching him.

Neither smiled this time.

They both understood what that meant.

The six men who had entered the Arena that morning had already been reduced by half.

And their first day as Arena fighters wasn’t even over.

The attendants began clearing the Arena.

The surviving condemned men were led away through a separate gate.

The three surviving newcomers were kept where they were.

For the moment, no one explained what happened next.

They simply waited.

Cassian looked toward the gate through which the condemned men had disappeared.

He had expected them to return to the training grounds.

But they had gone somewhere else.

That was something he would have to understand later.

For now, there were only three of them left.

Cassian.

Robert.

And 325.

The Arena had invested in six.

Three had survived.

And now the Arena would decide what those three were worth.

--

Tbc