Chapter 264: v3 - 25: unexpected guests II

Chapter 264: v3 Chapter 25: unexpected guests II

The next fighter stepped into the Arena.

Three hundred and nineteen.

Lorenz leaned forward.

For a moment, he simply stared.

The man’s hair was untidy.

His beard was long enough to cover most of his jaw.

His clothes were plain, worn, and completely unremarkable.

He looked as though he had just come out of a cave.

Lorenz blinked.

Then laughed softly.

"Who is that?"

Marcus followed his gaze.

"Three hundred and nineteen."

"Does he know grooming exists?"

"I don’t believe that’s relevant."

Lorenz smiled.

"It certainly seems irrelevant to him."

Marcus said nothing.

Carlo began walking toward the center of the Arena.

Lorenz’s amusement faded into curiosity.

The man still looked exactly as though he had emerged from a cave.

But his manner of walking was different.

His shoulders were relaxed.

His head was held naturally.

His steps were measured.

There was no swagger.

No attempt to draw attention.

No gesture toward the crowd.

Yet somehow, he carried himself with more dignity than half the nobles Lorenz had met.

Lorenz glanced at Marcus.

"His walk is better than yours."

Marcus turned.

"Excuse me?"

Lorenz laughed.

"Just watch him."

Marcus looked back toward the Arena.

Carlo had reached his position.

His opponent raised his sword.

Carlo did the same.

The announcer’s voice faded beneath the roar of the crowd.

Then the match began.

Carlo moved first.

Not recklessly.

Precisely.

His blade met his opponent’s with a sharp crack.

The other fighter attacked again.

Carlo stepped aside.

Blocked.

Countered.

Their swords met again.

The exchange was quick.

Controlled.

Carlo never wasted a movement.

He didn’t chase.

He didn’t overextend.

He simply waited.

The opponent pressed harder.

Carlo gave ground by inches, forcing the other man to follow.

A strike came toward his shoulder.

Carlo turned.

The blade missed.

His own sword snapped forward.

The opponent barely blocked it.

The crowd roared.

Lorenz leaned forward.

Marcus’s eyes narrowed.

The opponent lunged.

Carlo slipped outside the attack.

A quick cut.

The other fighter staggered.

Carlo advanced.

Another exchange.

Then another.

The opponent tried to force him backward.

Carlo refused.

He shifted his weight.

Changed his angle.

And suddenly the other man was off balance.

Carlo’s sword swept across.

The fighter stumbled.

Carlo stepped in.

One final movement.

The man fell onto his back.

The crowd erupted.

Lorenz sat forward.

Carlo stood over him.

His sword was pointed toward the man’s chest.

The fallen fighter raised one hand.

"Surrender."

The word carried across the Arena.

Carlo stared down at him.

For several seconds, he didn’t move.

Then he lowered the blade.

The crowd reacted again.

Some cheered.

Others booed.

Carlo simply stepped back.

The defeated fighter was helped to his feet.

Carlo offered him a hand.

The man hesitated.

Then took it.

Lorenz watched until Carlo turned away.

"Interesting."

Marcus glanced at him.

Carlo walked from the fighting ground without acknowledging the crowd.

They had cheered him.

Then booed him.

He hadn’t reacted to either.

Lorenz watched him disappear.

"He didn’t even look at them."

"The crowd doesn’t seem to affect him."

"Rare."

Marcus nodded.

Lorenz glanced at the papers.

"He’s going on the list."

Marcus was silent for a moment.

"I already checked him."

Lorenz looked at him.

"And?"

"Very little."

Marcus glanced down at the papers.

"His Arena record begins with the name Carlo. Before that, there is almost nothing."

"Family?"

"None recorded."

"Place of origin?"

"Unknown."

"Age?"

"Unknown."

Lorenz raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing reliable."

Marcus paused.

"The only thing we can establish is that he’s a foreigner."

"Do we know where from?"

"Not yet."

Lorenz looked toward the entrance through which Carlo had disappeared.

Marcus continued.

"His records were incomplete when he entered the Arena. I couldn’t verify his identity beyond the name they gave him."

Lorenz considered that.

"All right."

Marcus looked at him.

"You’re still putting him on the list?"

"Yes."

"Despite that?"

Lorenz shrugged.

"We aren’t signing contracts today."

"No."

"We’re choosing men worth challenging."

Marcus was quiet.

Lorenz tapped the papers.

"Then challenge him."

Marcus looked toward the Arena.

"I intend to."

Lorenz smiled.

"Good."

He leaned back.

"How many?"

"Five."

"Then let’s test all five."

Marcus nodded.

The decision was made.

The three men Marcus had originally selected would be challenged.

Robert would be challenged.

And Carlo would be challenged.

There was no fixed number of men they intended to recruit.

If all five proved worthy, they could take all five.

If only two passed, they would take two.

The challenge would decide.

Marcus had already spent weeks watching the candidates.

He had studied their matches.

Their records.

Their habits.

Their weaknesses.

There was no reason to continue observing from a distance.

Now they needed to see how the men performed against opponents deliberately chosen to test them.

Lorenz glanced at Marcus.

"Have you chosen their challengers?"

"Yes."

"For the three you selected?"

"I’ve already arranged them."

Lorenz nodded.

"And Robert?"

"One of the senior fighters."

"And Carlo?"

Marcus looked toward the Arena.

"Me."

Lorenz’s eyebrows lifted.

"Interesting."

Marcus said nothing.

He had watched Carlo more than once.

The man’s strength was not immediately obvious.

He wasn’t the largest fighter.

He wasn’t the fastest.

But there was something unusual in the way he fought.

His stance was disciplined.

His movements were economical.

He didn’t waste energy.

He watched.

He waited.

And when he moved, it was because he had already decided what he wanted his opponent to do.

More than that, he had noticed the man’s concentration.

The crowd could cheer.

They could boo.

They could scream his number.

Carlo barely seemed to hear them.

He fought as though the rest of the Arena did not exist.

Marcus wanted to know whether that composure would survive against someone who could truly pressure him.

Lorenz glanced at him.

"Then I hope he makes it worth your while."

Marcus’s mouth barely moved.

"I hope so too."

Lorenz looked back toward the Arena.

"Let’s see."

The five candidates would be challenged.

No more watching from the gallery.

No more assumptions.

Their next matches would decide whether they were merely capable Arena fighters—

or men worthy of standing beside the Crown Prince.

Somewhere below them, Cassian knew none of this.

He didn’t know he had been shortlisted.

He didn’t know a challenge had already been arranged.

And he certainly didn’t know who would be waiting for him.

Marcus.

The Crown Prince’s most trusted guard.

A man known throughout Milicia not only for his position beside the Crown Prince, but for his own ability with a blade.

One of the kingdom’s most respected and formidable fighters.

And he had chosen Carlo himself.

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Tbc