Page 57 of Champion
I couldn’t worry about that now, though, especially when the announcer ordered us to pair off and fight. I spared a glance at Adtovar, who squared off against Rickon, before going into my fighting stance.
The entire fight was planned and carefully choreographed. Warriors pairing up so that my victories wouldn’t seem so out of place. I was supposed to be the greatest assassin in the universe after all.
I faced Zahavi first. While he was the smallest of the gladiators, he was still a foot taller than me. He lunged forward, but I effortlessly spun right, dodging the attack, and countered with a swift kick to his midsection. The impact and his subsequent grunt and fall echoed through the arena, causing some onlookers to flinch at the sound. Although, personally, I thought he overacted a bit.
Adtovar and Rickon clashed, their swords swinging with the ferocity of bloodthirsty warriors. Their movements were fluid and precise, and the air hummed with the sound of their swords meeting—metal against metal, creating a melody of violence. It was a sight to behold. Two skilled fighters locked in combat, displaying both power and restraint in equal measure.
Cristox and Kariosak faced off, their swords glinting in the sun for a moment before the gladiators dropped their blades, opting for an all-out slugfest. The sound of fists hitting flesh echoed through the arena as they traded blows until Cristox landed a powerful right hook to Kariosak’s jaw, sending the massive orc crashing to his knees.
Xabat’s sudden lunge caught Ixaka off guard, sending them both staggering in a whirlwind of punches and kicks. The dust kicked up around them, concealing their movements ina haze of chaos. Amidst the commotion, it was impossible to discern who landed the winning blow, but as the dust settled, Xabat stood tall with an air of triumph, the clear victor of the scuffle.
With a swift and calculated movement, Pavo delivered a powerful blow to Gatto’s head, rendering him into pretend unconsciousness. His attention then turned to Bieste, a smaller opponent but one who possessed incredible speed and agility. Not fast enough, however, to avoid a kick from Pavo’s long legs, which put Bieste on his ass.
The raucous roar of the crowd rose to a fever pitch, their cheers growing louder and more frenzied with each body that hit the dirt. Bloodthirsty fuckers.
Adtovar expertly knocked Rickon onto his back within a few minutes, rendering him helpless. Then, with a fierce growl, turned to face Xabat. The two warriors met in a clash of blades and fists. Each one determined to emerge victorious, or so it appeared. Cristox, fresh from his victory over Kariosak, leaped into the fray, his muscles rippling as he joined the battle. The crowd erupted into cheers and screams, enthralled by the spectacle before them—a former champion gladiator facing off against two formidable foes.
That left me to fight Pavo. The towering Romvesian stood at least twice my height, but his muscular frame wasn't intimidating thanks to the bond of friendship we’d built. Our blades clashed in a flawless dance; each movement precisely choreographed by Adtovar. To an outsider, it would appear as if we truly tried to harm one another. In reality, the only thing our swords meant to injure were eardrums, thanks to the resounding clang of metal against metal.
“Let me know when you are ready, Lady Willa,” Pavo hissed, dodging a swipe of my blade.
I glanced over to where it appeared Adtovar knocked Xabat out with a kick to the head, leaving him to face only Cristox, who bled from a cut to his shoulder.
I’d been adamant that nobody get injured, but Adtovar convinced me that there needed to be some bloodshed for authenticity. With his thick pelt and the rapid healing abilities of his kind, Cristox offered to take the cut.
I let myself fall into the rhythm of clashing blades with Pavo again for a few minutes until I saw Adtovar take the upper hand in his fight with Cristox.
“Now Pavo,” I murmured.
The Romvesian towered over me, using his immense size to push me back with each strike. I’m sure to the crowd, my defeat seemed imminent. But I had one move that could turn the tide in my favor. One maneuver he couldn’t defend against. The one thing that would signal to Nansar that his plan remained in motion.
I touched him.
With a gentle caress of my hand against his outer thigh, Pavo’s body reacted as if hit by a surge of electricity. It was like watching a marionette controlled by invisible strings, his movements sudden and rigid. His muscles tensed and jerked before he crumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust. He lay there, a heap of limbs and dirt, defeated. Damn, Pavo should really get into the theater.
I spared a quick glance at Duke Ako’s box, my eyes darting past Pearl’s exuberant cheering to land on Nansar, who sat with a self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face.
Fucking asshole!
A deep, guttural grunt filled the air, and my attention jerked to Cristox. His body seemed to glide off the end of Adtovar’s gleaming blade, falling into the dirt with a heavythud. All just a well-rehearsed act, but executed flawlessly, as evidenced by the gasps and screams from the audience.
Adtovar’s chest heaved with exertion as he turned towards me, his muscular form glistening with sweat. He bowed slightly, a gesture of respect, before raising his blade, bloodied just enough from Cristox’s injury. His head tilted back, and a fierce growl rumbled from deep within his chest, stirring the audience into a frenzy. The sound of their cheers and screams echoed off the walls, sending a frenetic energy throbbing through the air.
With my feet planted firmly on the ground, I shifted into a fighting stance. My scimitars gleamed in the sunlight; the curved blades held securely in my grasp.
Adtovar was twice my size and triple my strength, but he’d taught me not to linger on my deficiencies but to play to my strengths. I might be small, but I was fast. Which was why every spin away from the swipe of his blade or punch seemed realistic. While our match was the least even-handed, I held an advantage that would make my victory believable. Adtovar was an elder warrior. I simply needed to make it look like I’d worn him out… without wearing myself out as well.
We circled and swiped and punched and kicked. Granted, I resembled a kitten standing against The Rock during most of the fight. Yet, I persevered. I’d been a fit sixty-four-year-old before the aliens grabbed me, but with my young-again body and due to Adtovar’s training, I felt in the best shape of my life.
The clang of blades echoed through the arena, their metallic screams drowning out any other sound. Adtovar and I moved in a fierce dance, our sparring moves practiced and perfected. The crowd watched in hushed awe, their eyes following every calculated step and strike. As we circled each other, sweat dripped down my back and between my breasts, the intense sun adding to the heat of our battle. But I didn’t let ithinder me, driven by the adrenaline and determination coursing through my veins. Every move was precise, every parry and thrust aimed with deadly accuracy. This was a performance but also a test of skill and strength.
I saw Adtovar’s pale eyes glance toward the Duke’s box, followed by a roll of his shoulders and neck. To anyone watching, it was just the elder warrior setting himself up for another strike. To me, it was a signal.
He rushed, swinging his sword in a wide arch aimed at my head. Just at the last minute, I ducked and spun, coming to a stop behind the warrior and delivering a roundhouse kick that hit him squarely in the spine. Adtovar’s stumble and near fall were so convincing that I almost dropped my blades and rushed to his side, but a stern look from him froze me in place. He limped forward, his broad shoulders squared as he extended his longsword towards me, gracefully lowering himself to one knee.
The crowd went bat-shit crazy. I glanced at the royal box, noticing Pearl lost in her own frenzy of cheering, while at her side, Duke Ako smiled and applauded. Behind him, Nansar skulked like a snake in the grass, a deviously smug smile plastered across his face.
I hope he enjoyed himself. I was about to slap that fucking smile right off his face.
