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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 : A Blood Bath II

Eldren's heart raced as he faced the four warriors circling him, each one intent on ending his life. One of the warriors lunged from behind, his blade slicing through the air toward Eldren's back. Eldren's instincts screamed at him to move, but time seemed to slow as he realized he was a split-second too late. He braced himself for the inevitable blow-then suddenly, there was a plunging sound, followed by a strangled gasp.

Eldren turned to see the warrior behind him fall, a spear embedded in his neck. A medium-built boy, no older than eighteen, stood with steady hands gripping the spear, his face focused yet calm. Without wasting a second, Eldren took advantage of the confusion and struck down two of the remaining warriors, Meanwhile, the young man dispatched the last opponert moving with a swift, quiet intensity

Eldren looked at his unexpected ally, his gratitude mixed with curiosity. But before he could speak, a roar of commotion came from the other side of the pit.

A massive, dark-haired figure towered over his opponents. Known as Black Bull, he was a brute of terrifying strength. With one swing of his warhammer, he knocked a warrior to the ground as though he were nothing more than a ragdoll. Another warrior tried to flee, but the Bull caught him by the neck, his powerful hand choking the life out of the man before he threw the limp body onto a third opponent, crushing him under the weight. He then turned and crushed the man's skull with a brutal strike of his hammer.

Eldren and the young man watched in stunned silence, a shiver running down their spines as they saw the Black Bull's brutal display of power. The Bull's dark eyes, as void-like as a starless night, turned toward them, sending a chill through the air. He began walking slowly in their direction, his hammer resting ominously on his shoulder. Eldren's grip on his sword tightened, bracing himself for the inevitable clash.

But just then, a loud bell rang across the pits, signaling the end of the round. Only four men remained standing: Eldren, his young savior, the Black Bull, and a cowering man who had spent the entire fight hidden behind crates and rubble, emerging only after the chaos had subsided.

Eldren shook his head, watching the cowardly figure. "I can't tell if he's smart or just a fool," he muttered.

The young man beside him shrugged. "Neither do I."

Eldren turned to him, finally able to show his gratitude. "Thank you for saving my life. What's your name?"

"John," the young man replied, giving a faint smile. "And no need to thank me"

Eldren "Why did you step in to help me?"

"We do what we think is right," John said simply, his tone neither boastful nor humble, just a statement of fact.

As the crowd's cheers filled the arena, the remaining warriors were ushered off, the blood-soaked sands now strewn with the fallen. Ninety-five percent of the original fighters lay defeated, a testament to the brutal nature of this tournament. Eldren cast a look around, seeing the solemn faces of those who had survived. They had passed the first test, but the true battle was just beginning.

For now, the bloodbath had paused- but Eldren knew it was only a brief respite. The next round awaited, and only the best would survive what was yet to come.

As the last echoes of cheers faded, Ser Galen of House Rosewood emerged from the tournament pit, his pinkish-white face marred by splashes of blood, a testament to the brutal clash he had just endured. He breathed heavily, his heart racing from both the exertion of the fight and the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Amid the fading excitement of the crowd, his thoughts turned to a golden-haired girl in the spectator gallery-the one who had captivated him with her smile and laughter. He scanned the faces in the stands, searching for her familiar visage, but the more he looked, the more he felt the weight of disappointment settle in his chest. She was nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, Galen's eyes darted across the dispersing crowd. He could not shake the feeling that he needed to speak with her, to share the rush of victory and the uncertainty that lingered in his heart.

Determined to find her, he pushed through the throng of spectators, the sounds of revelry fading behind him. "I must find her"

To be continued....