The deafening roar of the crowd rattled the bones in Kaidan's body, and the scent of sweat, blood, and iron filled the air like a suffocating cloud. As he stepped into the arena, the heat of anticipation burned his skin. The Colosseum was a cacophony of noise, a place where warriors became legends or became nothing at all. Kaidan's mismatched eyes scanned the stands, but all he could hear were the angry, expectant cheers and jeers of the crowd.
He barely noticed the roar of the crowd as he made his way to the center of the ring, his boots crunching against the sand. The ground beneath him felt solid, but in a way, it was a lie. This place, this ring, was a battlefield that had claimed many souls before. And now it was his turn to make his mark.
His opponent, a burly man with a sneer on his face, stood opposite him. Kaidan didn't need to look him over to know this man wasn't weak. He had a reputation in the arena, 15 wins, 6 losses. Not bad, but not impressive enough to intimidate Kaidan.
The man cracked his knuckles, a wicked grin stretching across his face. "Oh, look at you, a little boy playing at being a warrior. You must be excited to meet me in person." His voice was thick with arrogance and malice. "Don't worry, I'll take it easy on you at first. Let's see how much your delicate skin can handle." He ran a hand across his chest, leering at Kaidan. "I'll make sure to show you what real men are capable of. You'll be begging for mercy before I'm done with you."
Kaidan's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening around the hilt of his short sword. His breath was steady, but beneath his calm exterior, a surge of anger bubbled. The comments didn't bother him. What bothered him was the arrogance—the assumption that he was just another child, another stepping stone for some half-assed fighter to win against.
The referee signaled the start of the match, but Kaidan barely noticed. The moment the bell rang, the man lunged at him with a roar, throwing a wild punch. Kaidan sidestepped with a fluidity that only months of training could have instilled, and as his opponent passed, Kaidan struck—swift, brutal.
The punch landed squarely in the man's ribs with a sickening crack. The crowd gasped, but Kaidan didn't stop. He swung his knee up into the man's gut, knocking the wind out of him. The man staggered back, clutching his stomach, but Kaidan was already on him.
"You should have just stayed in your corner, man," Kaidan muttered under his breath, his voice low and cold. He advanced, his feet never faltering. "This isn't your fight to win."
The man grunted, wiping blood from his lip as he tried to recover. "You little shit. You think you can beat me?" He charged again, swinging wildly. Kaidan didn't even flinch. The punch whizzed past his ear as he ducked and drove his fist straight into the man's jaw, sending him reeling back with a howl.
"You talk big for someone who's about to lose," Kaidan said, his voice dripping with contempt.
The crowd was starting to murmur now, confused by the one-sided battle unfolding before them. They had expected the seasoned fighter to easily overpower the boy—expected a show of skill and strength. But all they were getting was a brutal beating that had them turning on their former favorite.
The man growled in frustration, wiping more blood from his face. "You're just a little freak, aren't you? What, you think because you've got some fancy tricks, you can take me down like this?" He spat on the ground, a defiant sneer on his face. "Well, I'm gonna show you—"
Kaidan was already in motion before the man could finish his sentence. He moved faster than the crowd could follow, launching himself at the man with a burst of speed. His fist collided with the man's ribs again, and this time, the crack was loud enough that the audience winced.
"Do you really think you can talk to me like that?" Kaidan growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're nothing but a sad joke."
He shoved the man backwards, and with a savage roar, he slammed his knee into the opponent's chest, knocking the breath out of him. The man collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, his chest heaving. He tried to rise, but Kaidan was on him before he could make a move. He grabbed the man's throat with one hand, lifting him off the ground, and slammed him back down into the sand.
"I'm done playing with you," Kaidan muttered, his voice icy. "Time for you to learn the truth."
The crowd fell silent as Kaidan loomed over his opponent, pinning him to the ground. The man's face was twisted in fear now, his earlier arrogance gone. Kaidan bent down close, his breath hot against the man's ear.
"You think I'm just a kid?" Kaidan's voice was barely a whisper, but it sent a chill down the man's spine. "You're a goddamn embarrassment." He drew his fist back, and before the man could react, Kaidan slammed it down into his face—over and over again, each blow faster than the last, each one harder, filled with all the rage and pain Kaidan had carried for months.
Kaidan grabbed the man's head, yanking it back sharply, and before the man could react, Kaidan twisted his neck with a sickening crack.
The crowd went silent.
The man's body went limp, his life drained from him in an instant, as Kaidan stood over him, chest heaving, eyes cold. The fight had been quick, but the brutality was unmatched.
"Is that all you have?" Kaidan muttered, stepping away from the lifeless body. "Pathetic."
The silence from the crowd was deafening. Kaidan could feel the weight of their gaze, their disbelief at the young fighter's ferocity. Some murmured in shock, others held their breath. But one thing was certain—Kaiden had proven his point.
The referee hesitated, unsure whether to step in, but finally, the signal was given. The crowd was stunned into silence, but Kaidan barely registered it. He was too focused on the rush of adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
A voice from the stands broke the silence.
"Who the hell is this kid?" someone whispered in awe.
Kaidan's mind barely registered the noise around him. He was still lost in the afterglow of the fight, the physical and mental exhaustion beginning to set in. His hands were shaking, but not from fear—no, the shaking came from the brutality, the raw violence of what he had just done.
He had killed a man. Just like that.
A small part of him, deep down, felt the sting of regret. He couldn't ignore it. He had done what he needed to survive, but at what cost?
"Victory…" he whispered to himself, his breath catching in his throat.
It wasn't supposed to feel like this. It wasn't supposed to be so hollow.
As he walked away, leaving the corpse behind, the crowd's attention shifted to him, their admiration mixed with fear.
He had just set the bar for what was to come.