“So, did you get the rules?” asked Ceasar. He had just explained that the three of them would each fight one battle by themselves against a fighter of the arena. If they won at least two of the battles, they would be allowed to live.

“Yes, we get it,” answered Vreil.

“Excellent. Please come from the weakest to the strongest. Which of you will go first?”

“Give us a minute,” requested Vreil.

They came closer to each other and whispered so they wouldn’t be heard.

“Heartilia, you can’t fight, right?” asked Vreil, and Heartilia nodded. “Then Sting, we both have to win.”

“You know,” Sting suggested, “if Heartilia is going to resign anyway, we could say she is the strongest of us. That way we will avoid fighting their strongest fighter. And don’t say that’s cheating, Vreil.”

“I know, I know. Heartilia, you will surrender, right?”

“Of course I will.”

“Okay then,” said Vreil, turning back to their host. “Ceasar, we are ready. Sting will go first.”

“What?” asked Sting, startled. “Why do you think you’re stronger than me?”

“Because I already beat you once. And we can’t find out now, can we?” They stared at each other, but Sting looked the other way first.

Ceasar ordered the guards to untie Sting and give him a sword. Meanwhile, amidst the screams of the crazed audience, Sting’s opponent entered the arena. A tall elf with broad shoulders, he was, a nasty scar covering his right cheek. The others moved to the side as Sting, with his sword at hand, stood against him.

The elf was undoubtedly strong, as Sting knew from the first time their swords clashed. But he was stronger. Eventually, the fight was over in seconds and the elf, who was now bleeding from his cut-off hand, was lying on the ground. Sting had chosen to disarm him instead of killing him.

“Won’t you kill him?” asked Ceasar, but either Sting chose to ignore him or his voice was lost in the ocean of screams coming from the crowd. Obediently giving his sword to the guards, Sting allowed them to tie him up again.

Then it was Vreil’s turn. As a guard untied his hands, he whispered an order from Ceasar in his ear. “Give the audience a show.”

Judging from the booing of the previously ecstatic crowd, they weren’t particularly happy with how the last battle had ended. As Vreil grabbed his sword and stepped forward, he wasn’t sure if he would follow Ceasar’s command, but then he figured that maybe he wouldn’t be given a choice.

His opponent, a mass of muscles that called itself an elf, was oozing a murderous aura as he approached Vreil. Hoping to surprise him, Vreil quickly whispered “Asfar Orel” to send an intense, concentrated blow of air in the elf’s eyes, and simultaneously attacked.

A commendable effort, which however was in vain as the elf stepped back and easily blocked the attack. He smiled and licked his sword, provoking Vreil and driving the crowd crazy.

Swords flashed as their blades collided repeatedly. Vreil was using everything he had, including body strengthening magic, to barely keep up with the elf. Not only was he ridiculously strong, but his speed was nothing to scoff at either. He was probably using body strengthening magic too.

Vreil attempted a feint, pretending to attack his opponent's knee and then striking at his chest, but the elf easily saw through it. While Vreil was pretending to strike, the other fighter didn't bother to defend and instead stabbed directly at Vreil's face. The Arknas barely had time to dodge.

A sword flashed and Vreil’s cheek was scratched. A few drops of blood flew out, driving the audience into a frenzy. The elf raised his fist in the air, further exciting the crowd. This was what they had come here to see, after all. Blood.

While the elf was playing with the audience, Vreil swiftly slipped his hand in his pocket and grabbed a coin. “Hey!” he shouted to get everyone’s attention and threw the coin high in the air. With the exception of Vreil, Sting, and Ceasar, everyone’s eyes followed the trajectory of the coin.

Vreil’s opponent realized his mistake as soon as the coin was in the air, but he didn’t have time to change anything. While everyone’s eyes were focused on the coin, Vreil made his move and cut the elf’s right hand, the one that was holding the sword. As the elf screamed in agony, Vreil turned around and grabbed the coin on its way down.

Realizing what had just happened, or maybe because of the green smoke coming out of their grass-filled mouths, the audience shouted so loudly that the agonizing elf’s screams were drowned in the noise. “Was that enough of a show?” Vreil shouted angrily as he returned to the guards to be tied again, only fueling the screams of the crowd more. Ceasar smiled and nodded.

“All you have to do is surrender, okay Heartilia?” Vreil asked as he gently approached her, hands tied behind his back. She didn’t answer, she just nodded in agreement, as she was given a sword she could barely lift.

“Don’t we feel bad for this little girl?” asked Ceasar, faking compassion. “What can she do against that monster? Her team has won, but she won’t survive anyway. Poor girl.” Surprisingly, he didn’t seem particularly upset about the two previous victories.

Heartilia walked towards Ceasar, stepping next to Vreil’s semi-conscious opponent, and spoke, her voice shaking in fear. “I surrender,” she said, declaring her intentions. The laughter of the crowd felt as if she was hit by a raging horse, and she fell on her back.

“My child,” Ceasar shook his head, trying to control himself. “You can’t surrender in the Underground arena. You either win or die.” The shock of the truth brought tears to the girl’s eyes.

“Hey!” shouted Vreil. “Let her surrender. Do you think they will enjoy the fight? She can barely lift a sword!”

He suspected this would happen after seeing Sting’s fight, but he hadn’t told anyone because he thought he could be wrong. Now, he could feel the burden of guilt on his chest. “Let me fight instead!”

Ceasar laughed inside his head but, on the outside, he only smirked a little. Everything was going as planned.

“Why would I let you do that? Rules are rules.”

“Because I can make all these fat pigs go crazy from excitement!” He was referring to the audience, knowing they couldn’t really understand him in the state they were in. Sting sat quietly, waiting for an opportunity to escape. He doubted they would let them go willingly.

Ceasar pretended to think about it. “Okay,” he finally said. “I will be merciful for once and let this pretty girl go. But don’t worry. The coin man will take her place!” he said to the audience. They didn’t hear his words, they just reacted to his tone. It was really a pathetic state they were in.

The ground shook and the air resounded with a wrathful roar, as a steel cage on wheels entered through the door, pushed by five men. But it was neither the cage nor the men behind it, or even the crazed screams of the audience, that drew Sting’s attention and made him curse through his teeth. It was the contents of the cage.

“From the dangerous Dark Area, trapped by dozens of brave and strong hunters, this is our strongest fighter,” said Ceasar triumphantly. “Do you wish to take back your request, young man?” he asked Vreil, with an evil grin on his face.

Vreil gulped in response. He thought his opponent would be like the previous one, but this was on a whole different level. Inside the cage was a raging, four-meter-tall ape that was trying to break its way out. The crowd’s screaming was driving the ape insane, infuriating it even more.

Vreil gulped again. Was he willing to fight that thing, or would he let Heartilia die in his stead? But if he did choose to fight, his death was almost certain. On the other hand, after the ape killed Heartilia, Ceasar would probably let it eat them too, as snacks.

But his life was worth more than Heartilia’s; he was important to the revolution, for some reason, probably. And he didn't want to die. He was afraid of death. He was angry for being put in this situation. It was as Sting had said; innocent people die every day. How important could one more be, if he himself could keep on living?

“What are you thinking, Vreil?” Sting’s voice distracted him from his thoughts.

“What’s your answer, boy?” insisted Ceasar.

Darkness rose in his chest and he was about to let Heartilia fight when the words of the memory wolf came back to him.

Always stay true to yourself, even when the whole world is against you. If you lose yourself, you lose everything. And when the time comes that you have to choose between darkness and light, remember everything that led you to become who you are. Remember all the faces, the situations, the friends, the sacrifices. Then the answer will come naturally, like how the leaves know that they have to go down, not up, when they fall from the trees.

He sighed. The darkness about to rise in his chest died back down.

“I will fight,” answered Vreil. He had just realized that he had no other choice. He could never say that he would let Heartilia, or anyone, die like that. It just felt... like it wasn't him.

At that moment, he felt as if some shackle had been released from around his soul, and all the dark feelings he had been suppressing just went away. He even thought he heard a faint enraged roar coming from inside him, but it was probably his imagination.

“Excellent,” replied Ceasar, clapping his hands in excitement.

Sting sighed.

Vreil grabbed his sword and took his position in front of the cage. He wanted to attack the ape right as it exited the cage, when it would be vulnerable. Hopefully.

Many armed elves moved to the edges of the arena, ready to recapture the ape as soon as it ate the human. The ape was ramming the door of its cage. After all elves were in position, a guard quickly unlocked the door of the cage and then ran back as fast as he could.

Vreil’s previous opponent lay on the ground, almost unconscious after losing his arm. He deserved it though; he had been deceived by the oldest and most known trick.

Nobody had come to help him. He was dying and he knew it.

Hearing screams of terror around him, he used all the energy he had left to open his eyes one final time. What he saw was a terrifying animal violently tearing a man apart. As the last of his blood flowed out of his body, he thanked that human, whose face he couldn’t remember, for killing him. He wouldn’t want to die between the jaws of something like this monster.