Viktor sat in stony silence, slowly sharpening his blade as the distant roars of the crowd echoed through the arena corridors. Beside him, Jorath grinned wickedly in anticipation of the coming match.
"Don't spend much time with that young man, he no more a novice," Jorath said. "He fought with a ferocity that scared even you, and he moves like lightning."
Viktor paused his sharpening just long enough to fix Jorath with a murderous stare. "Save your drunken fantasies. The only thing worth scaring is..."
Jorath raised his hands in deference and smiled crookedly. "Try not to scar up his pretty face too much now."
Viktor's hand shot out, grabbing Jorath viciously by the collar. "You'd do well to remember your own embarrassing defeat at my hands, dog. Perhaps you'll be next to taste my blade when this tourney is done."
He shoved Jorath away roughly. The older fighter wisely chose not to continue conversing, moving away muttering under his breath.
Ignoring him, Viktor returned to his weapons preparations, envisioning precisely how he would carve up that preening, pompous child who fancied himself a real warrior. Viktor almost hoped Keros would put up a decent fight for once - it would make snuffing out his short-lived bravado all the more satisfying.
A sudden fanfare of horns interrupted Viktor's thoughts. The herald's magically amplified voice boomed:
"Stand and salute for your champion! Today he faces a challenger who has blazed an improbable trail to this penultimate battle. Only one will emerge to advance. Viktor of Myrtana versus Keros of Riverbend!"
At the call, Viktor rose, hefting his sword and shield. In the passageway, other fighters gave him a wide, wary berth as he strode toward sunlight and roars of anticipation. You will learn your folly challenging someone so beyond your skill, Keros, he thought. This lesson will cost you dearly.
Stepping into the arena, Viktor scanned the rapt crowds, the stained sands where so much desperate blood had been spilled before. There stood his opponent, looking small and fragile without the heavy plated armor Viktor favored.
Viktor sneered beneath his helmet at this absurd matchup. The whelp's overlarge sword visibly weighed down his scrawny frame. Viktor almost pitied this ignorant boy who knew nothing of true carnage. But pity could come later - teaching came first.
He took position, rolling his neck and bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. No need to waste time on words. In moments, steel would sing of Viktor's supremacy. No more restraint or playing with food - this dish was ready to be fully devoured.
At the horn's blast, Viktor exploded forward, becoming a blur of scything death. Keros barely reacted in time, clumsily redirecting the first strike off his blade with a resonating clang. The force still staggered him.
Not waiting for recovery, Viktor pressed on with a merciless combination of crushing blows from all angles. Keros was overwhelmed, reduced to a panicked retreating defense. Cuts opened on his arms and cheeks as Viktor's strikes grazed home again and again.
Less than a minute had passed but Keros sensed the fear pouring off inside of him - the realization of being hopelessly outmatched. Time to savor this.
With a swing of his sword's non blade side, Viktor smashed Keros to one knee, leaving him wide open for a finishing decapitation. But he halted his blade just before contact. Stepping back, he grinned behind his helmet.
"Come now, to end this so quickly would be disappointing," he taunted loudly. "I expected more from the valiant village boy people whisper of. Can it be true?"
Face burning with shame and exertion, Keros struggled to rise. Viktor allowed it. "Perhaps one day songs will tell of how you died in this arena before my hands," Viktor said. "But who would sing of you now?"
Seething, Keros drew deeply on his atman, azure light pouring off his skin. Viktor had to admit, the speed of his next attacks impressed...briefly. A few successful strikes later, the energy waned.
"A parlor trick, nothing more," Viktor pronounced, also summoning his full atman until the ground trembled beneath its power. "Behold true strength, boy."
The next clash fragmented Keros' sword instantly. Viktor wore him down, toying with his powerless prey until sweat soaked his bruise-mottled skin. Then the real punishment began.
Flat on his back, Keros' mind flooded with panic. He was going to die here in disgrace before the silent, watching eyes of the woman he so admired. Avita. The name cut through his haze of pain. He had to get up, to keep fighting. He couldn't fail like this, not again.
Every movement agony, Keros tried pushing himself upright. Seeing this, Viktor placed a heavy boot on his vulnerable neck. "Ah, there it is. The desperation. But this is over."
He slowly added pressure while summoning the last of his atman into his blade, poised above the boy's heart. Keros' struggles weakened, his fate clear. It was done.
In that instant of hope's death, Viktor made his mistake - he glimpsed the lights leave Keros' eyes and loosened his boot for the killing strike. With his final ounce of strength, Keros released a savage kick upward, finding a tender spot between Viktor's legs.
The underhanded attack caught Viktor completely off guard. He recoiled reflexively from the agonizing blow, feeling atman control slip away. Gasps of shock rang out from spectators.
Capitalizing on Viktor's impairment, Keros painfully hauled himself up and tackled his reeling foe. They tumbled down in a graceless heap of punches, knees and elbows. Training and precision were forgotten - now it was wild desperation.
The raw explosion of violence sent Viktor's sword spinning away. No more mockery or control - Viktor grappled brutally, trying to crush the life of this maddened animal who refused to submit.
They rolled to the arena's edge, teetering dangerously close to the sheer drop. Summoning the last fibers of his rage, Keros gave Viktor a heave powered by primal fear. For a moment, Viktor seemed to hang impossibly in midair before plummeting into the abyss. Keros collapsed.
Far below, Viktor's broken body awakened feebly until his atman fully drained away along with his lifeblood. The mighty Myrtanian was laid high by blind, frenzied passion - a force beyond his comprehension. Not even Viktor's boundless cruelty could stand against such chaos.
In the annals of legend, they would say Viktor had sorely underestimated his seemingly weak opponent. But few would ever grasp the truth... Keros was able to tap into the power of resilience and will, which was unfathomable given his humble beginnings, thanks to Viktor's generosity.
Viktor stood spread-eagled in the center of the field, looking around him and taking in his surroundings. He saw that he had to be careful: although there was no visible obstacle to impede his progress, every move he made would have consequences. He advanced slowly, alert for any sign of danger from Keros After what seemed like an eternity but probably only minutes passed without incident; Viktor emerged victorious from this landscape as Keros lie before him.
Defeat lay heavy on Keros like a lead weight. His ambition and drive had fled, leaving him languid and without purpose. Waves of sorrow crashed over him as he wept silently, the tears streaming down his face in an unending stream; despair filled every molecule of air he breathed. With a roar that echoed off the walls of his dark cavernous soul, Keros cried out for mercy from whatever deity might hear his desperate plea – but no answer was forthcoming in this silent void where previously there had been dreams and joys untold.
All the rulers smiled and chuckled as they watched their warriors battle for glory.
The herald strode through the crowd, his voice ringing out with news from afar. "Viktor of Myrtana has defeated Keros Vaelstym in this grand fight!" Cheers rose from the crowd as beekeepers swept by, bringing sweet honey mead and spiced wine for celebration.
Nina watched from the side lines with a sad look on her face as Keros was slowly and surely defeated. She had seen him a few times before and knew that he was destined for greatness. But now, it seemed his dream was over.