Ezra stood in the dimly lit gladiator holding room, gripping his sword. This was his last fight of the month, and he'd won every match so far. He knew that the greedy old man who "owned" him would have him fight daily if it wasn't against the law. As he waited, thoughts of escape flickered in his mind. Joining the Abyssi Legion had crossed his mind more than once—they were always in need of skilled fighters. But the thought of spending his life beneath the planet's crust, battling demons in the darkness, didn't sit well with him.
He let out a frustrated sigh, glancing around the room at the other gladiators who seemed lost in their own thoughts. For them, escape was a distant dream.
The door lifted from the ground and Ezra walked through listening to the match announcer introduce him.
"Ladies and Gentleman I introduce the boy who took the arena by storm ending The Ebon Reaper."
Ezra ignored the man and prepared for his match according to Dammon his opponent wouldn't be a person this time so he had to be prepared for his opponent he couldn't take it easy like usual.
The gate across from him drew open and a black panther that stood two heads above him was dragged out by soldiers with chains the beast was fighting hard and finally, it was in the arena the announcer was taken from the arena and the soldiers carefully removed the chains and ran into the opposite room.
The heavy door lifted, and Ezra stepped into the arena, listening only briefly as the announcer's voice rang out over the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce the boy who's taken the arena by storm—the Ebon Reaper!"
Ezra ignored the introduction and focused, his gaze fixed on the opposite gate. According to Dammon, his opponent this time wasn't human. He had to be sharper, faster, and couldn't afford his usual restraint.
With a loud creak, the gate on the other side of the arena opened, and soldiers dragged in a massive black panther, towering two heads above Ezra. The beast strained against the chains, snarling and fighting its handlers with a feral fury. Once it was finally in the center of the arena, the announcer hurried off, and the soldiers carefully unlatched the chains, then dashed to safety, bolting into the opposite room.
As the iron door clanged shut, the panther turned its full attention on Ezra, golden eyes locking onto him with lethal intent. Ezra gripped his sword tighter, heart steady, gaze unwavering. This was no ordinary fight.
The panther let out a deep, rumbling growl, its muscles rippling under its midnight-black fur. As it stalked forward, Ezra noticed something strange—the shadows around the beast seemed to deepen, almost as if they were alive. Wisps of darkness clung to its frame, swirling around its massive paws and stretching out like tendrils ready to strike.
Ezra steadied his grip on his sword, his pulse quickening. He'd fought many opponents, but nothing like this. The crowd fell silent, sensing the danger.
The panther pounced first, closing the distance in an instant. Ezra sidestepped and slashed out, his blade scraping against the creature's hide but failing to draw blood. It was like slicing through thickened shadow. With a snarl, the panther turned and lashed out with a swipe of its claw, but Ezra ducked, rolling to the side just in time.
Suddenly, Ezra felt a chill creep over him. The panther's shadow seemed to expand, stretching out beneath him until he was standing in a pool of pure darkness. Before he could react, tendrils of shadow lashed out from the ground, wrapping around his ankles and pulling him down. He struggled, slicing through the shadows with his sword, but for every one he cut, two more took its place.
The panther prowled forward, eyes gleaming with a sinister intelligence. It opened its mouth, and a wave of shadowy energy surged from its jaws, rushing toward Ezra like a tidal wave. He barely had time to twist away, the dark energy grazing his shoulder and numbing his arm instantly. Gritting his teeth, he forced his body to move, breaking free from the shadows around his legs.
Ezra lunged forward, aiming a precise strike at the panther's side. His blade connected this time, cutting through the dark aura cloaking the beast and finding its mark. The panther roared in fury, shadows thickening around it as if feeding off its anger. It leapt back, melting into the darkness, disappearing for a moment before reappearing right behind Ezra, jaws snapping inches from his neck.
He twisted, thrusting his sword backward, but the panther dodged, shadows wrapping around its body to shield it. Before he could recover, it struck again, its claw grazing his side, leaving a burning line across his ribs. Ezra staggered, but refused to give ground.
Summoning his last reserves of strength, he darted forward, feinting left and then pivoting, swinging his sword in a sweeping arc just as the panther lunged. His blade cut through the shadows protecting it, sinking deep into the creature's chest. The panther let out a final, blood-curdling roar as the shadows evaporated from its body, its massive frame collapsing onto the arena floor.
Ezra stood panting, his blade dripping with blood as the crowd erupted in wild cheers. He glanced down at the panther, feeling a strange sense of respect for the creature. This had been no ordinary beast—it had been a true challenge, and he had survived.
Ezra collapsed onto the arena floor, chest heaving with exhaustion, and one thought crossed his mind: That thing was badass. Every muscle in his body ached, yet he couldn't stop himself from smiling. He'd faced many opponents, but none as fierce or as thrilling as the panther with its shadowy powers.
As he lay there, gazing up at the sky, Ezra couldn't shake the feeling of awe. He had no idea why the creature had been so massive or why it wielded that strange, dark energy. But all he could think about was how incredible it would be to fight with that same level of power and grace.
It seemed far-fetched, but the spark was there, and Ezra knew that from this fight forward, his ambitions were only going to grow.
Ezra dragged himself back to the gladiator holding area, still sore but grinning. As soon as he stepped inside, the other gladiators erupted into cheers.
"Ezra, that was insane! I heard you were tough, but damn, that was something else!" one of them shouted, clapping him on the back.
Another laughed, shaking his head. "Man, I'm glad I never had to fight you. I don't think I'd even see you coming!"
Ezra chuckled, waving off their praise. "Nah, that panther just pushed me to my limit. If it had landed one more hit, I might not be standing here."
The others laughed, a mix of admiration and relief on their faces. "Well, good thing you're on our side," one of them said with a smirk. "I don't think any of us would want to go up against the 'Ebon Reaper' in the arena."
Ezra rolled his eyes at the nickname, but he couldn't deny—it felt good hearing his strength acknowledged.
The next day, Ezra was back at his usual training routine when the Mothkin maid approached him. Her name was Esmerelda, though most just called her Esmer.
"Training going well, Ezra?" she asked, watching him as he worked through his swings.
Ezra glanced her way but didn't stop. "Sort of. I feel like I'm stuck, though. Like I'm close to a breakthrough, but I can't quite reach it."
Esmer smiled gently. "You'll get there. I know it. It's just a shame I won't be around to see it."
Ezra stopped mid-swing, frowning in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Her expression turned somber, a sadness flickering in her eyes. "I've been sold. I'm being sent to the Legion," she said, letting out a sigh. She held up her hand, and a soft green powder drifted from her palm. "We Mothkin can produce a healing powder, which makes us… valuable. I was sold at a high price. I don't think I'll be seeing the surface again."
Ezra clenched his fists, the realization of her situation hitting him hard. "The Legion? So that means…?"
She nodded, her voice low. "Yeah. I'll be living under the crust, healing soldiers fighting demons. It's not the life I'd choose, but…" She gave him a bittersweet smile. "At least it'll help people, right?"
Ezra's gaze softened. "I'm… sorry, Esmer. I didn't know."
She reached out, patting his shoulder lightly. "Thank you, Ezra. Just keep pushing forward, alright? For both of us."