At the same time the commotion in the stands above was coming to an end, the fight for survival in the ring below was just getting started. The beast currently had the final challenger pinned, in a struggle which the man was losing. What would have stood out to any eagle-eyed observer was the fact the clearly starving creature went after the two living individuals.

There were already two corpses lying in the dirt not far from where it had entered, both of which should have been more attractive to such a beast. The only possibility lay in the use of drugs, and other alchemical draughts that may have placed the leopard into berserk state. It was unlikely to be distracted in that case, opting instead to kill for the sake of killing, and not for the sake of survival.

Possessing incredible speed, strength, and natural weapons capable of eviscerating the lightly armored men, the fighters would need to rely on their cunning if they were to survive. The champion understood the predicament both he and his challenger were in, he could leave the large man to die, but for those watching it was clear that was not what he planned to do. At this point even many spectators had tempered their bloodlust, they now called for both men to live. Even for a city of thieves and cutthroats, the honor of the ring was sacrosanct, and the city lord had thrown refuse into the face of tradition.

It did not help the organizers case as the mercenary clans would view this as a slight upon their name, all the challengers came from established mercenary clans within the region. Even if they held no real power, they did hold sway on account of their military presence. To die honorably in battle within the arena was acceptable, but to use such an underhanded and dishonorable method within the ring would not be ignored.

If the champion came out of this ordeal alive, there would be little chance for his owners to deny his freedom. The mercenary clans would clamor for his release, as they would desire to recruit such a valuable potential within their ranks. Whereas the “tamer” who was made to release the Leopard would assuredly be used as the unfortunate scapegoat, so that the Lord of Myrmien might avoid responsibility for the current debacle. All that was needed was for the champion to win, to kill the beast and emerge victorious, only then would he gain his desired freedom.

A pained roar shook the air, the challenger although pinned and injured had plenty of fight left in him. The curved iron blade in his right hand found purchase in the soft flank of the starving leopard. Blood pooled underneath the struggling man, each thrust of the blade placing more stress upon the torn shoulder.

He was able to get in two good strikes before the beast responded, the anger from the wound inflicted upon its left flank visible in its maddened glare. Its forelimb lashed out in retaliation, pressing over the lip of the shield, and raking the man’s helmet and face. The scream followed by the gradual weakening of the man’s defense, with the beasts gnashing jaws getting ever closer to his mangled helm. Although he maintained the struggle, it was feeble, his face turned to the side, with a stream of crimson liquid emerging from the left eye slot.

The champion could have stood silent and allowed the beast to finish off the challenger who at this point was moments away from collapsing. Instead, the youth charged towards the creature, with sword and shield in hand, releasing a full-throated war cry as he went. This action threw the beast into momentary disarray, leaving it in a state of confusion, deciding whether to finish off the prey at its feet or deal with the new prey. That split-second of confusion allowed the champion to close the distance, as he bounded across the sandy ground with an almost inhuman burst of speed.

Leading with his shield, the champion struck out, the iron rimmed wooden shield acting as a bludgeon. The center struck the stationary leopard directly on the tip of its exposed snout, thick oaken planks capped in bronze into the soft tissue with the built-up kinetic force further amplifying the impact. What followed was a resounding crunch, one that echoed off the walls of the arena and audible to those up in the stands.

It took no time for the beast to start yowling in pain, followed immediately by a low whine as blood leaked from the broken nose. With the initial bash of the shield eliminating the creature’s vision for an instant, while at the same time neutralizing its olfactory senses, the youth was able to skirt around the leopard’s flank within those few seconds of inhibited senses. This action not only showed the young champion’s acute battle instincts, but it also proved his ability to comprehend and plan multiple movements on the field of battle in real time.

Using the few seconds gap provided by the mewling creature’s inattention, the champion had positioned himself to the beast’s rear. He pounced onto its back, plunging his blade deep, into the gap between the right fore limb and shoulder joint. The attack had missed the neck by a small margin when the creature moved randomly, although not fatal, the wound would cause immense pain, lessening the beast’s speed, and agility.

The beast for its part acted swiftly and decisively, instincts kicked in, the drugs numbing the pain which allowed it to strike out without hesitation. Unable to respond fast enough, the young champion took the full brunt of the rage filled swipe. That single attack sent the youth tumbling away, the shield having taken the full brunt of the attack, but upon closer inspection it was obvious he had not escaped unscathed. His left arm shaking like a leaf in the wind, numb from sheer force held in that one swipe. More concerning was his action of favoring his left side, specifically his ribs, a section of which was slowly turning from a healthy bronze to a dark blue and black.

Although suffering some damage, the champion had come out ahead within the exchange. However, now the beast’s attention was solely upon him, ignoring the previous prey entirely. The strike to its snout and fore limb appeared to have sobered it up slightly, for it was no longer allowing madness and rage to control its actions. Instead choosing to approach cautiously, keeping out of range while slowly pressing the youth further and further towards the edge of the ring, right up against the stone walls.

Unarmed save for his shield and a single dagger, there was little chance for the champion to succeed against the beast. For now, he maintained eye contact with the predator, never turning his back or allowing an opportunity for it to strike. A dance of death between two predators who recognized the danger of the other, yet still confident within their abilities, a single instant could decide who lives and who dies.

In that moment one would be able to hear a pin drop within the arena, not a single member of the audience allowing their voices to escape. They watched on in anticipation, hanging on the edges of their seats, envisioning the outcomes of the death game occurring below.