Under the stadium seats are where the tournament participants waited, being able to listen and see through a single small opening with steel bars across it. It allowed the fighters to see the arena and watch other battles as the tournament went on. Cassius then heard a familiar voice begin to explode through the colosseum.
"Welcome all to the annual trade festival tournament! I hope you've got an appetite for war because we have some bloodthirsty fighters with us this year!"
Cassius realized who was speaking, remembering the nobleman that approached him and Garth before they registered for the tournament.
"We have the drawing for the tournament, here's how things line up! In order, the fighters' numbers go 9, 1, 18, 23, 4, 2, 7, 21, 17, 5, 22, 12, 3, 8, 11, 14, 19, 6, 10, 15, 24, 13, 16, 20. Fighter number 9 and number 1, please come to the stage!
The entire colosseum then erupted with cheering. The walls began to shake in the rooms where the participants waited. Cassius did not move, staying at the opening to see the stage. In his room, Garth remained seated and refused to look at the fights. His pride would not allow him to observe.
"If I have to learn people's skills first to win, that's not a true victory," he thought to himself.
"The only fight I can watch is the second one, Cassius will absolutely beat number 18."
When Cassius and Garth registered, they were given the numbers 23 and 24; Cassius received number 23 and Garth 24.
"These fights need to be over with already, I just want to fight Cassius without mom and dad here to stop it at the climax!"
Cassius was stuck thinking about the ruthless humans they'd have to fight. He wanted to see if their fighting directly showed their nature. Maybe it was a lie to create an illusion of the competition, something to bring in more spectators. He was unsure, but he needed to know.
Number 9 and 1 arrived at the stage, walking up with what appeared to be guards. Both guards in full-body armor and wielding halberds, having the fighters walk 5 feet in front of them while their weapons were also pointed at them. The two fighters were very different in appearance. Number 9 appeared to be 6 foot 7 inches tall, bulky in build, with short and spikey black hair. Number 1 was only 5"5', lean and fit looking, with brown hair cut in a short-and-tight mohawk. They were both wearing clothes that looked like they were made out of sacks, nothing warrior-like at all when it came to their clothing.
"Are they prisoners? Were they given those clothes after they were called? Are they from the same household?" Cassius' analytical and overthinking side began to peer through yet again.
Once the fighters had finished their walk onto the stage, the guards started walking backwards, never taking their sight off of the fighters, until they reached the entrance doors again. Without any notice, the noble's voice exploded again.
"BEGIN!"
Number 1 dashed at 9, unleashing a heavy punch to his jaw and then jumping back. Number 9's jaw was broken, dangling from his face as if he saw something he couldn't believe. In reality, though, he just could not close his mouth anymore.
"So quick! 1 is as fast as Garth!? He doesn't look Siladarian though," Cassius was stunned. He'd only ever seen Siladarians move that fast, being told Humans were much slower.
Number 9 let out a massive yell, showcasing his pain and anger from what just happened. He ran towards his opponent and grabbed him; Number 1 did not even try to get away. 9 began to laugh as 1 was in his arms, about to be squeezed to death.
"You didn't even try to get away? You must think that little body of yours is somehow able to overpower mine! Your pride will be your downfall!"
Number 1 then smiled and began to fall out of his arms. Cassius focused intensely on the fight, noticing number 9 had been knocked unconscious. It happened so fast with such precision, he still remained on his feet. The crowd had no clue what actually happened. They began to shout about number 9 not taking it seriously, some even shouting about him throwing the match for gambling winnings. None of these things were the case.
"Of course they couldn't see it, it was way too fast! Number 1 kicked him in the head 45 times in a second! He's actually faster than Garth!" Cassius' mind was racing.
Still upright, number 9 appeared to still be in the fight to the spectators and the noble running the tournament. Number 1 started laughing hysterically. He then jumped up and punched 9. What seemed like 1 punch to the crowd was actually 50 punches of immense force to 9's nose. His face afterward looked like it had been beat in by someone using a large rock.
Unrecognizable, completely deformed, the number 9 fighter had been mercilessly killed. The colosseum's cheers became deafening. Cassius' heart had sunk, and the smell of blood filled his nostrils. Cheers for death was something so foreign to him, something incredibly taboo within his moral compass.
"They love it!? They actually enjoy seeing that happen to someone," Cassius' mind started to spiral. Maybe humans were just as bad as most Siladarians seemed to think. Could it just be the people here? Were all people from Eris like this? Cassius felt a sharp pain in his heart, not being able to understand these people or their ways.
"Would I have turned out like them if my family hadn't died? Is this why they died? Maybe they didn't accept how things were."
Cassius felt even more determined to learn the truth of his family. The idea of him possibly being raised this way created a heavy feeling of despair. He knew he had to learn more, despite it possibly leading to an uneasy answer.
"WOW! WHAT A SPECTACULAR SHOW OF STRENTGH," the noble's voice began to boom again.
"We've never seen such displays! Word of the tournament must have reached incredibly far and wide this year! Just look at that number 9's face!
The crowd began to laugh and cheer. They didn't care so long as it wasn't them or their families. Any other lives meant next to nothing to them. Everyone else only lived to serve in their minds, whether it be for labor, money, or entertainment. Cassius had trouble accepting this reality.
"NUMBER 1 IS THE WINNER! I guess he didn't get that number for nothing! Onto the next! Numbers 18 and 23, please make your way to stage!"
As the noble's voice stopped and cheers began to ring through the colosseum, a guard showed up to Cassius' room and tossed clothing at him that looked the same as 9 and 1's.
"Change into this and then we'll head to the stage. Hurry!"
Cassius didn't say a word, just doing as he was told. He felt if he tried to back out of the tournament now that it would cause problems for him and Garth. He steeled himself and decided to push on. Putting on the clothes, the guard grabbed him out of the room and to started pushing Cassius toward the stage with the blunt end of his halberd.
"Get moving! The people crave another display."
"What about my scyt-"
The guard then hit Cassius in the head with his halberd.
"I said get moving! Don't speak to me!"
Cassius began to feel worried for his scythe and immense anger towards the people of this city.
"How could people be so void of compassion," he thought to himself.
Cassius and number 18 were guided to the stage, being left by the guards afterwards like the first match. No one to dictate how the match proceeds, leaving the entire outcome to the fighters. Number 18 looked blank, empty inside with no emotions. 5"10', straight blonde hair that went down 2 inches all around, a circular cut, and light-gray eyes.
"Is he blind," Cassius thought while looking at his eyes.
"BEGIN!"
Number 18 began to walk forward, but it did not seem like he was heading towards Cassius. Cassius took a step to the left and then jumped to the right, thinking maybe the man fought with his other senses. 18 did not react, they just continued walking forward.
"What's going on? Why is he just walking in the same direction?"
18 took 10 more steps then stopped. He stopped all movement entirely besides from breathing. The crowd began to shout at Cassius, demanding that he kills him.
"BREAK HIS LIMBS!"
"RIP HIS FINGERS OFF AND MAKE HIM EAT THEM!"
Demands of brutality sent a feeling of complete disgust to Cassius. He had never felt like this, even when his life was in danger as a kid.
"What is this? Why do they enjoy something so evil, something so repulsive," Cassius wondered in himself about the cries of the colosseum crowd.
Number 18 began to speak, mumbling to himself. Cassius heard slight utterances and decided to get closer to hear, but while also maintaining caution.
"I'm fine, this will all be fine. It's no worry, it's fine," these words came from 18 over and over.
Cassius had then realized what was going on. They had forced a blind man into this competition with no chance of winning, for the purpose of watching him be destroyed. Cassius had wondered how many other people were victim to this tournament. How could he prevent more from falling into the same situation? What was he to do in this situation?
Garth was observing from his room, wondering what Cassius was going to do.
"Cassius won't pummel a blind person that isn't even fighting back. He's more serious than that. What's your move, Cassius?"
Cassius looked around the colosseum. It was gigantic, with walls towering all around. The entrances and exits of the stage were being guarded. He couldn't just forfeit or get beat, the man would face a worse fate with the next opponent he fought. He would need to fool the crowd into believing 18 had been actually defeated.
Cassius walked up to the man, and spoke into his ear.
"When your body is placed on the ground, do not get back up."
Cassius then grabbed the man and threw him 100 feet into the air. 18 did not even let out a startled scream, he showed incredibly resolve to die. 18 started to plummet towards Cassius, and right as he was above, Cassius threw an incredibly powerful punch.
The force from his punch did not make contact with number 18. Instead, the force created a gust of wind that cancelled out the force from 18's 100 foot drop. This made it so that it felt like number he had just been placed onto Cassius' fist rather than crashing into it. He then moved his fist down, having 18 free-fall down to the stage from slightly above Cassius' head. It was only a 6 foot drop. Number 18 lied there as instructed, and did not move, even keeping his eyes closed. The crowd began to cheer, amazed at the speed and strength displayed by Cassius.
"THE WINNER IS NUMBER 23! WHAT A SPECTACULAR DISPLAY!"
The guard returned to escort Cassius back to his waiting room, and 18's guard went to where his body was lying. 18's heart was then pierced by the point of the guard's halberd.
Cassius turned to see the weapon being pulled out, and anger washed over him.
"He was beat! Why did you kill him!?"
The guard escorting Cassius attempted to attack him but it was easily evaded. Cassius then kicked the guard in the shin 35 times in a second, causing his leg to bend inward as his greave had been kicked in; the leg was shattered, never to be used for anything meaningful again.
The guard began to cry out and writhe in pain. 10 more stormed in from the stage entrance, and the one at number 18 came over to Cassius as well.
"DO NOT HARM NUMBER 23," the noble's voice began to shake the colosseum.
"He is rightfully frustrated, as the people have seen through his act. Number 23, did you really think the only reason we put a blind person into the contest was to see them suffer? Absolutely not. We put him in because there's always someone like you that gets self-righteous. We just love seeing people like you try to save those like that. It really is pleasant to our hearts."
Laughter and cheers echoed. Cassius' anger had tripled after hearing those words. Despite being incredibly angry, the presence of the guards and remembrance of number 1 caused him to collect himself. He realized that if he attacked without knowing the strength that the city had within it, he may find himself in a situation he couldn't get out of, and Garth may intervene and get caught up in it as well.
"Our best option is to make it through the tournament until Garth and I fight. Then, when we're together, we can attempt to escape and break out those that want out," Cassius had held in his wrath and went with the safe solution for him and his brother.
"Number 23 is a great prospect for this tournament. You may only use the necessary amount of force to take him back to his room."
"No need, I will go back willingly."
"A smart choice. But, just to be safe, make sure there are 20 guards at his room door at all times!"
Cassius was escorted back to his room, with 10 guards in front of him and 10 behind him. The halls to the rooms were only wide enough for 5 people to be side by side, making it so there were two waves of 5 guards in both directions.
He arrived back to his room, and he instantly grabbed his scythe and stood ready to attack at any given moment. The guards all remained outside of his room, and Cassius tried to think of a plan for him and others to get out of the colosseum and the city.
"These are humans? The same as me? This place is nothing like Siladar!"
Cassius had realized he underestimated how vicious people could be. Kidnapping, murder, torture for entertainment, Cassius had seen only a fraction of what humans were truly capable of. It was still enough to make him on edge from that point on. He was worried about meeting other humans, worrying about finding his family.
Just then he remembered what Nero had told him. His sister sacrificed her life to save his. Cassius knew that was nothing short of love. Perhaps not all humans were so wicked, but he was in a town full of those that were, and his main concern now was getting out of there with Garth.