Chapter 265: v3 - 26: challenged

Chapter 265: v3 Chapter 26: challenged

The five fighters were summoned before breakfast.

Cassian arrived with Robert at the room where the Arena staff usually delivered their instructions.

Three men were already there.

Alex stood near the wall with his arms folded.

Harry sat on one of the benches.

Gary was pacing slowly across the room.

None of them spoke.

Cassian noticed the same thing in all three faces.

They were uneasy.

The Arena did not usually summon fighters together without a reason.

Robert, unusually, wasn’t smiling either.

He glanced at Cassian.

"Something’s happened."

Cassian looked toward the closed door.

"I suppose we’ll find out."

The door opened.

An Arena official entered.

The room went silent.

He carried five sealed notices.

He placed them on the table and looked at each of them.

"Three hundred and nineteen."

Cassian straightened.

"Three hundred and twenty-seven."

Robert looked up.

"Two hundred and seventy-eight."

Alex stepped forward.

"Two hundred and fifty-two."

Harry raised his head.

"Three hundred and fifty-six."

Gary stopped pacing.

The official looked over them once.

"You have been selected for challenges."

For a moment, nobody reacted.

Then Robert’s expression changed.

"Someone challenged me?"

The official looked at him.

Robert stared back.

Then a grin slowly appeared.

"Finally."

He laughed under his breath.

"Someone noticed."

The official gave him a dry look.

Robert immediately straightened.

"Right."

He cleared his throat.

"Serious."

Alex snorted.

The tension in the room eased.

Cassian had understood almost everything the official had said.

A year and eight months ago, the Arena’s language had been little more than noise to him.

Now it wasn’t.

He still missed words.

There were expressions he didn’t know, and sometimes a sentence moved too quickly for him to catch every detail.

But he understood enough.

Enough to follow conversations.

Enough to understand instructions.

Enough to know when someone was joking, threatening, or lying.

It was strange to realize how far he had come.

The official continued.

"Your regular matches are suspended for the next two weeks."

Robert’s eyebrows rose.

"Two weeks?"

"You will not be required to fight during that period."

A few shoulders relaxed.

Cassian understood the value immediately.

No ordinary matches.

No condemned men.

No sudden announcement that another fighter had been selected to face them.

Two weeks in which they could prepare for one opponent.

The official continued.

"You will have access to the training grounds, medical treatment, and improved meals during the preparation period."

Robert nodded approvingly.

"Now that’s a challenge."

The official ignored him.

"The challenger will be an outside fighter."

Cassian listened.

Outside.

That meant the man did not belong to the Arena.

He had been brought in specifically for the challenge.

Someone had chosen them.

That alone made the coming match different from anything they usually faced.

"The match is not a death match," the official said.

Robert’s expression brightened.

"Even better."

The official continued.

"Neither fighter is permitted to deliberately kill the other."

Cassian understood the distinction.

They could fight.

They could injure each other.

They could be hurt badly enough to spend weeks recovering.

But the match was not meant to end in death.

"If one fighter yields, the match ends."

The official’s gaze moved across them.

"The Arena may also stop the match if continuing would place either fighter in serious danger."

Robert nodded.

"Understood."

The official placed the notices on the table.

"The challenge purse will be considerably higher than that of an ordinary match."

Robert’s eyes immediately sharpened.

"How much?"

"You will be informed after the wagers have been finalized."

Robert smiled.

"Now I really like challenges."

This time even Harry laughed.

Cassian didn’t.

He was thinking about something else.

Someone had noticed him.

The thought made him uneasy.

That was the last thing he wanted.

For nearly two years, he had done everything possible to remain unremarkable. He had kept his hair untidy, his beard long, his clothes plain.

He had avoided attention whenever he could.

He had made himself Carlo.

Not Cassian Ashford.

Now someone outside the Arena had deliberately chosen him.

For a brief moment, he wondered whether they had seen something beneath the disguise.

Whether someone had recognized him.

Then the official placed the notices in front of them.

Cassian noticed the seal.

The same seal appeared on every notice.

He looked at Robert’s.

The same.

Then Alex’s.

The same.

Harry’s.

The same.

Gary’s.

The same.

The official continued.

"All five challenges were requested by the same patron."

The thought left Cassian as quickly as it had come.

The same patron.

All five of them.

Robert.

Alex.

Harry.

Gary.

Himself.

It wasn’t personal.

The patron had simply been watching the Arena and selected several fighters at once.

Cassian could accept that.

Robert looked at the official.

"The same patron?"

"Yes."

Robert glanced at the others.

"That’s a lot of money."

The official gave no answer.

"Who is it?"

"The Arena does not disclose the patron’s identity."

Robert nodded.

"Of course."

No one pressed further.

There was little point.

The official gathered the remaining papers.

"The identity of each challenger will be known when he arrives."

He looked at them.

"Until then, you will prepare."

That was all.

The official left.

The door closed behind him.

For several seconds, none of them moved.

Then Robert looked at his notice again.

"Well."

He leaned back against the table.

"I’ve been waiting for this."

Alex smiled.

"You sound happier than when we won."

"Because this is different."

Robert looked at them.

"We’ve been fighting whoever the Arena puts in front of us. This time, someone actually picked us."

Harry nodded.

"And put down enough money to make it worthwhile."

"Exactly."

Robert glanced at Cassian.

"You understand all of that now, don’t you?"

Cassian looked at him.

"Most of it."

Robert grinned.

"Look at you."

Cassian ignored him.

They left the room together.

The corridors were already busy.

Workers moved between the training grounds and the living quarters.

Fighters were being escorted toward their morning sessions.

The Arena continued as though nothing had happened.

But for the five of them, the next two weeks would be different.

Their ordinary matches were suspended.

They had been given time.

And someone outside had decided they were worth spending money on.

By the time Cassian and Robert reached their quarters, Robert was still talking.

"I wonder who the challenger is."

"Someone capable."

"Obviously."

Robert dropped onto his bed.

"That’s the point."

Cassian sat across from him.

Robert looked at the notice in his hand.

"Still."

He smiled.

"It’s good."

Cassian understood.

A challenge meant recognition.

Money.

And, most importantly, a break from the death matches.

He couldn’t say he was happy to have been chosen.

He didn’t want attention.

But two weeks without killing—or being expected to kill—was something he could appreciate.

Robert looked toward him.

"What did yours say?"

Cassian handed him the notice.

Robert read it.

Then looked up.

"Only a number."

"Yes."

"No name."

"No."

Robert turned the paper over.

"Mine’s the same."

Cassian nodded.

"The challenger will be revealed when he arrives."

Robert frowned slightly.

"Wonder what kind of fighter they picked."

Cassian took the notice back.

"Someone they believe is worth the wager."

Robert smiled.

"Probably."

He leaned back against the wall.

"Two weeks, though."

Cassian looked at him.

"Yes."

"Two whole weeks."

Robert laughed softly.

"I could get used to this."

Cassian almost smiled.

He couldn’t.

The Arena had never given them time without demanding something in return.

But this time, at least, the price would not be paid in blood.

He looked down at the notice again.

Two weeks.

He had spent one year and eight months fighting in the Arena.

He had learned its rules.

Its rhythms.

Its language.

He had learned how to survive its matches.

Now someone outside the Arena had chosen him.

He didn’t know who.

He didn’t know what they wanted.

But he no longer thought it had anything to do with who he really was.

Five fighters had been chosen by the same patron.

Cassian folded the notice and set it aside.

Two weeks away from the death matches.

He would take them.

--

Tbc