The clang of the bell reverberated through the chamber, cutting through the haze of Kaidan's exhaustion. He didn't have time to think. Jorik charged like a beast unleashed, his massive frame moving with terrifying speed. Kaidan barely ducked the first swing, the force of it sending a sharp gust of air past his ear. He stumbled back, his ribs screaming in protest from the relentless training.
"You're too slow!" Jorik bellowed, his voice a guttural snarl.
The crowd jeered, their mocking laughter a brutal chorus. Kaidan gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright. His mismatched eyes locked onto Jorik's, one blue, one gold, burning with defiance despite the weight of his injuries.
Jorik advanced again, his fists hammering down like twin sledgehammers. Kaidan managed to block one, the impact rattling his bones, but the second slammed into his shoulder. Pain shot through him like lightning, and he staggered back, gasping for breath.
The larger man sneered. "You're nothing but a punching bag," he growled. "How Garin thought you'd survive out there is beyond me."
Desperation Sets In
Kaidan dodged another blow, his movements sluggish from fatigue. His body screamed in protest with every step, every twist. He ducked under a wild swing, driving his fist into Jorik's ribs, but it was like hitting a wall. Jorik barely flinched, his grin widening.
"Is that all you've got?" Jorik taunted, his voice dripping with disdain.
Kaidan's mind raced. He was outmatched—Jorik was bigger, stronger, and faster. But Kaidan had survived worse. He had fought wolves, panthers, and men twice his size. He had endured the wilderness, starvation, and the crushing weight of loss.
I've survived this long. I'm not dying here.
Jorik came at him again, swinging with reckless abandon. Kaidan ducked low, slamming his shoulder into Jorik's midsection. The larger man grunted, momentarily off-balance, but recovered quickly, grabbing Kaidan by the neck and lifting him off the ground.
The crowd roared as Jorik squeezed, his massive hand cutting off Kaidan's air. Kaidan clawed at Jorik's wrist, his vision darkening at the edges.
"This is where you break, boy," Jorik growled, his grip tightening.
The Turning Point
Kaidan's mind screamed in protest. He thrashed, his legs kicking out wildly, but Jorik held firm. Panic surged through him, but it was quickly replaced by something else—pure, unrelenting fury.
No. I won't die here.
Summoning every ounce of strength left in his battered body, Kaidan twisted, driving his knee into Jorik's ribs. The blow was enough to make the larger man loosen his grip, and Kaidan fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Before Jorik could recover, Kaidan surged forward, slamming his shoulder into Jorik's chest. The larger man stumbled, but Kaidan didn't stop. He tackled Jorik to the ground, his fists flying.
Each punch landed with a sickening thud, his knuckles splitting open as they struck flesh and bone. Jorik tried to fight back, but Kaidan was relentless, his mismatched eyes blazing with a fire that refused to be extinguished.
"You think I'm weak?" Kaidan snarled, his voice hoarse. "You think I'll just roll over and die?"
Jorik swung wildly, catching Kaidan on the side of the head. The blow sent him reeling, but he recovered quickly, driving his elbow into Jorik's face. Blood sprayed from the larger man's nose as Kaidan mounted him again, his fists crashing down like hammers.
The crowd's jeers turned to stunned silence as Kaidan's ferocity overwhelmed Jorik's brute strength. The larger man's struggles grew weaker with each passing second, his eyes wide with a mix of pain and disbelief.
The Final Blow
Jorik let out a guttural growl, trying to push Kaidan off, but the boy wouldn't relent. Kaidan's fists were a blur, his breaths ragged as he poured everything he had into each strike.
"Stay… down!" Kaidan roared, his voice breaking.
With one final punch, Jorik's head lolled to the side, his body going limp beneath Kaidan. The room fell silent, save for the sound of Kaidan's labored breathing. He sat there, straddling Jorik's lifeless form, his bloodied hands trembling.
The weight of what he had done crashed down on him like a tidal wave. His chest heaved, his heart pounding against his ribs as he stared at his hands, slick with blood.
Aftermath
From above, Seris clapped slowly, the sound echoing in the stillness. "Impressive," she said, her voice smooth and cold. "You've finally shown some real fire."
Kaidan didn't respond. He rose unsteadily to his feet, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. The crowd's whispers grew louder, a mixture of awe and unease as they watched him.
"You killed him with your bare hands," Garin said, stepping forward. There was no mockery in his voice, only a grim acknowledgment.
Kaidan looked at him, his mismatched eyes filled with a storm of emotions—rage, despair, and something else. Determination.
"I did what I had to," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Garin nodded. "Good. Because this was only the beginning."
As Kaidan staggered out of the ring, the weight of his actions pressed down on him. But deep within, the fire that had carried him through the fight burned brighter than ever.
He wasn't just surviving anymore. He was fighting back.