Chapter 270: v3 - 31: the challengers V

Chapter 270: v3 Chapter 31: the challengers V

The next name was called.

"Two hundred and fifty-two!"

Harry stepped forward.

The crowd answered with a roar.

Cassian watched him enter the Arena.

Harry was built differently from the others.

Broad shoulders.

Heavy arms.

A thick frame that made him look more like a laborer than a swordsman.

He reached the weapons table and picked up two axes.

One in each hand.

He tested their weight.

Then looked toward his challenger.

The man across the Arena stood with a sword.

Calm.

Controlled.

Waiting.

Harry’s expression hardened.

The score was two victories for the challengers.

One for the Arena fighters.

If Harry lost, it would become three to one.

There would be no recovering from that.

The Arena fighters could win the remaining match, but the challengers would already have secured the overall victory.

Harry would be the man who had allowed it.

He wouldn’t accept that.

The signal sounded.

Harry attacked.

Both axes came forward.

The challenger stepped back.

The first axe swung toward his shoulder.

He blocked.

The second came immediately after.

He avoided it.

Harry followed.

The challenger countered.

Harry turned his body.

The sword passed across his side.

Harry swung again.

The challenger retreated.

Harry kept coming.

Unlike Robert, he did not rely on speed.

Unlike Alex, he did not wait for an opening.

He forced openings.

Every strike carried enough weight to punish even a successful block.

The challenger parried one axe.

The second came from the opposite side.

He barely avoided it.

Harry’s weapon struck the sand.

He ripped it free and attacked again.

The challenger moved around him.

Harry turned.

The sword struck his upper arm.

Blood appeared.

Harry didn’t stop.

He swung both axes.

The challenger stepped backward.

One.

Two.

Three.

The crowd roared.

Harry pressed forward.

The challenger suddenly changed direction.

He slipped past the first axe and struck Harry across the ribs.

Harry staggered.

The challenger raised his sword again.

Harry blocked with one axe.

The impact drove him backward.

The second axe came up.

The challenger retreated.

Harry charged.

Their weapons collided.

The challenger twisted his sword around the axe.

Harry pulled.

The challenger nearly lost his grip.

Harry stepped forward.

He was stronger.

Much stronger.

He drove the challenger backward.

The man’s heel dug into the sand.

Harry swung.

The challenger ducked.

The axe passed over his head.

Harry turned.

The second axe came around.

The challenger blocked.

The impact forced him sideways.

For a moment, Harry had him.

Then the challenger slipped away.

The sword cut across Harry’s thigh.

Harry stumbled.

The crowd gasped.

He looked down.

Blood was already running down his leg.

His grip tightened around the axes.

He attacked again.

The challenger blocked.

Harry struck.

Blocked.

Again.

Blocked.

The challenger was waiting for him to tire.

Harry knew it.

He could feel his arms getting heavier.

His breathing was becoming rough.

He couldn’t afford it.

Three to one.

The thought returned.

Three to one.

He could not be the reason.

The challenger attacked.

Harry blocked.

The sword slid down his axe.

The challenger stepped inside his reach.

Harry tried to strike with the second axe.

Too slow.

The challenger hit him across the jaw.

Harry staggered.

The challenger raised his sword.

Harry threw himself forward.

They collided.

The sword passed over his shoulder.

Harry grabbed the man’s arm.

The challenger twisted.

Harry refused to let go.

He slammed his forehead into the man’s face.

The challenger recoiled.

Harry swung.

The axe caught the man’s shoulder.

The crowd erupted.

The challenger stumbled away.

Harry followed.

He was bleeding from his thigh.

Blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

His shoulder was bruised.

Still he advanced.

The challenger raised his sword.

Harry attacked.

The sword blocked one axe.

The second axe came toward his ribs.

The challenger twisted away.

Harry missed.

The challenger struck.

Harry blocked.

The sword slid off the axe.

Harry’s foot slipped.

The challenger took the opening.

His blade struck Harry’s forearm.

Harry’s grip loosened.

One axe fell.

Harry looked at it.

Then at the challenger.

The man stepped forward.

Harry picked up the axe again.

The crowd roared.

The challenger hesitated.

Only for a moment.

Harry charged.

The challenger met him.

Their weapons collided.

Harry swung wildly.

The challenger avoided it.

Harry swung again.

The challenger blocked.

Again.

Harry’s breathing was ragged now.

The challenger struck his shoulder.

Harry staggered.

The sword came again.

Harry raised his axe.

The impact nearly knocked it from his hand.

The challenger pressed.

Harry was losing ground.

His legs were shaking.

His vision blurred.

But the score remained in his mind.

Two to two.

No.

Two to one.

One more loss.

Three to one.

He couldn’t let it happen.

The challenger struck.

Harry stepped inside the blade.

He caught the man’s wrist.

The challenger tried to pull away.

Harry held him.

The man drove a knee into Harry’s stomach.

Harry doubled over.

The challenger tried to break free.

Harry grabbed his clothing.

They crashed into the sand.

The challenger rolled.

Harry followed.

The man reached for his sword.

Harry kicked it away.

The challenger struck him with his fist.

Harry took the blow.

Then grabbed a fistful of sand.

He threw it into the man’s face.

The challenger recoiled.

Harry climbed over him.

His axe rose.

The challenger raised both hands.

Harry froze.

For a moment, the only sound was the crowd.

Then the challenger tried to twist away.

Harry struck the sand beside his head.

The man flinched.

Harry brought the axe down again.

The challenger rolled.

The blade struck the ground.

Harry followed.

He was no longer fighting cleanly.

He was fighting desperately.

He grabbed the man’s arm.

Dragged him back.

The challenger fought.

Harry struck him.

The challenger blocked.

Harry struck again.

The man tried to reach his sword.

Harry kicked it farther away.

The challenger turned toward him.

Harry raised the axe.

The challenger stared up at him.

He knew he could continue.

But he also knew Harry would not stop.

The challenger lifted his hand.

"I yield."

The Arena erupted.

Harry remained still.

His chest heaved.

Blood ran down his leg.

His arm was bleeding.

His face was bruised.

But he was still standing.

The attendants rushed into the Arena.

Harry finally lowered his axe.

Across the field, the remaining challengers watched him.

Four matches had been fought.

Two victories for the Arena fighters.

Two for the challengers.

The score was tied.

Everything would come down to the final match.

Harry was helped away from the fighting ground.

Cassian watched him disappear through the entrance.

Then his gaze shifted toward the remaining challenger.

The fifth man stood alone now.

He was still at the opposite end of the Arena.

Still concealed.

Still waiting.

Cassian couldn’t see his face.

But there was something about the way he stood.

Something familiar.

He couldn’t place it.

Above the Arena, in the private gallery, Lorenz leaned forward.

His eyes moved from Harry to the remaining challenger.

Then, almost casually, he looked down.

The challenger looked up at the same moment.

For one brief second, Marcus’s eyes met his.

Lorenz said nothing.

Neither did Marcus.

The moment passed.

Lorenz turned his attention back toward the Arena.

Marcus looked toward the man standing opposite him.

Three hundred and nineteen.

The final match.

The score was tied.

And now it was Cassian’s turn.

--

Tbc