The former Grand Scholar Cadeyrn of House Amyntas was not known for his emotional outbursts, in fact he was most remembered for his cool-headed logic and cutthroat decisions. A man that would cut away the waste if it threatened the overall goal, every decision had some reasoning behind, deeper than that which existed upon the surface. Other than those closest to him, friends, family, and students, one might have thought him to be an unfeeling monster.

At this moment, that same man was craning his head, at the edge of his seat, carefully observing the ongoing fight within the arena. No one, neither the Scholar nor his entourage needed to comment upon the happenings occurring down below.

Each of those fighters were experts, specialized in their fields, enough that they could be integrated within his own elite contingents of rangers and outriders. Yet the youth, the champion was far more impressive, if one considered his young age and fighting capabilities, that alone would be enough. However, he also showed extreme awareness of his surroundings, responding to each opposing strategy with calm, using the terrain, and ultimately leading his opponent where he wanted them.

His reactions and instincts were top tier, if trained in more efficient combat techniques, as well as schooling in a multitude of topics related to command, he would be a force to reckon with. The Scholar’s fingers were tapping across his thigh, a sign of nervousness and agitation, it was clear to those closest to him that he wanted the youth. Understood that such natural talents were wasted fighting here in this sandy pit, for what… the entertainment of the sycophantic mobs. It was clear the decision had been made, no matter the cost, the champion would be going with the House Amyntas. Surviving this fight would be his final test, could he win? Could he come out unscathed? They were about to find out.

As the Scholar and the rest of the audience watched, the second stage of this battle was about to begin. With eyes red, swollen, and an enraged scowl stretched across his face, the dual wielding enemy had long since thrown caution to the wind. Buoyed by the realization that the youth no longer had his primary weapon, instead possessing only a small dagger and his defensive shield. He had the reach advantage, as well as a slight height advantage, and decided to make use of both… charging forward with each blade parallel to the ground, preparing for a combination thrust and slash maneuver. An attempt to force the opponent to guard with his shield, thus leaving his flank open, the slash would then help to slow and wound, allowing the dual wielder to pick him apart safely from range.

That was the reaction everyone assumed, for who would have guessed that the champion would take such a risk as throwing away his only defensive weapon. However, throwing away his shield was exactly what he did, digging his heels in, rotating once, and hurling the disk of metal and wood directly at the oncoming enemy.

The dual wielding opponent was caught completely off guard, with no time to dodge out of the way, he instead put up his guard, using both swords and wrists to protect his face and head. A decision that may have saved his life as the shield struck mere seconds later, the blades cutting into the man’s forearms, and the force from the blow possibly shattering the bones below. What was obvious to those in the stands was that he had taken some damage, but the reality was time was not on his side.

Immediately upon releasing the shield the champion had charged forward, directly toward the opponent. He did not attempt to retrieve his spear, instead choosing to rapidly close the distance. The attack had not only injured and stunned his opponent, but it had also obscured his approach, giving the opponent no time to regain his footing and posture. His defenses were open, and the champion wasted no time moving into knife fighting range.

Dodging the hastily swung blade, the champion responded with a precise thrust of his dagger directly into the bicep of the offending arm. This action was met with yet another hasty and panicked swing of the sword, with the champion responding with an upward thrust of his left elbow, halting the enemy right arm mid swing. Following this movement with a rapid thrust into the man’s exposed armpit.

At this point everyone watching was aware of the man’s fate, both his arms had been neutralized, the previous strike had dealt a fatal blow and he would slowly bleed out. The youth was however not finished. With precise, practiced movements he stepped into the man’s chest, grabbing firm hold of the back of his neck with his right arm extended over the shoulder. This action was followed seemingly simultaneously with two quick jabs to the body before sweeping the opponent’s legs from underneath him. Using the forward momentum and the leverage of his shoulder as a fulcrum to viciously slam the man into the ground.

The opponent landed, hard. His back taking the full force of the impact, with the scream elicited from his lips enough information to know that something had broken. This young champion for his part had no intention of showing mercy, he did not wait, and before the opponent had the chance to understand the extent of what happened his knee came down onto the man’s throat with the full force of his body behind it. The strike struck the center of the throat, deforming that area and shattering his means to breathe, just a handful of raspy gasps escaped his lips. A final pointless struggle for life before ultimately expiring while the champion watched on, as if to etch the man’s final moments into his mind.

With that two enemies had been eliminated and only one remained, but that man was limping, his foot slightly twisted at an incorrect angle, much more obvious now that he was up and limping towards the youth. The champion for his part understood that time was on his side, while the opponent struggled to walk, he went about collecting the scattered gear, mainly his shield and one of the fallen dual wielder’s blades. Tucking away the dagger into the gap of his right forearm guard.

Even injured the larger man still posed a risk, being better armored, and possessing a slight reach advantage since the spear now remained where it had fallen. The champion for his part understood that he held the advantage and had now taken a more defensive posture, keeping just out of range, and goading the opponent to overextend. Like a desert cobra he was opposite his prey, waiting and watching for any opportunity to strike.

As the two closed in towards one another and the audience watched in anticipation something unexpected occurred, one of the holding grates leading into the arena began to rise. It wasn’t until the yell of utter surprise that more heads turned towards the interruption, and what met those eyes was met with complete silence. The large silhouette bolted from the other side of the gate, charging single mindedly toward both fighters in the center of the arena.

The absolute silence throughout the arena was broken by a yell of surprise, the new challenger had aimed for the champion’s back but had instead collided with the shielded man sending him sprawling on the ground. For his part the champion must have acted on honed instincts, he did not look back, but had instead immediately dropped to the ground, landing hard on his stomach. That action had saved his life, had he been caught he would have undoubtedly been killed.

For the new challenger was no man, what stood pressing down on the shield bearer was one of the most notorious hunters upon the Demacian peninsula, the grey leopard.