Holding the shield up from the second the Corg entered the ring Raijen put the mace on the upper edge of the shield. Waiting, judging and remembering every detail Sarca told them in their training.

As the men in his twenties started to circle the ring Raijen stayed grounded on the spot, keeping the face of the shield aligned with the other man's body. Angling the shield, he put one of the legs behind the other, turning his body and making himself into a smaller target.

The man was holding the short sword in his right hand and buckler on his other arm. Realizing Raijen was not moving at all, his eyes widened a bit, unsure of what to do. Unable to decide what to do, short of charging the guy behind the shield. took a step closer.

There was little reason to move from Raijens spot and give him a chance to strike for a weakens he was looking for.

“Are you gonna just stand there the whole day?”

Not responding, Raijen stood his ground, waiting for him to get into his striking distance.

Not like I have something to gain by making this faster or more entertaining for others.

Hiding his mouth behind the rim of the aspis and glaring at Corg, the crawler finally lost it. Lunging forward aiming for the head, Raijen took a step to the side diverging the blade away. Turning around the slave swung his blade horizontally, the slash connected with the shield. The raw strength of the impact forced the shield closer into Raijens' body.

Taking another piercing strike the sword hit the shield again. Raijen turned the shield sideways and swung the mace while jumping back. The maces head connected with the outstretched hand holding the sword knocking it to the side.

A shout of surprise escaped him as Raijen took two steps forward intending to press the advantage before stopping. Cursing at himself for becoming eager to go for it when he barely did any damage. His opponent's hand was at best pulsing with little of the pain, at worst he would have just the blue spot on it in a few minutes.

Stopping himself dead in his advance Raijen stood still again, taking two steps back, luring the men in.

Blood runs in his wains as anger took over the young man, throwing himself at Raijen smashing the sword into the shield. Raijen took another step back reaching with his hand the men grabbed the rim of the shield, intending to pull it away.

Taking a step with him Raijen slammed the mace into his shield crushing the fingers. In the pain that followed he dropped the sword and bowed in tears, ramming the knee in his face Raijen brought the mace around caving his side in, breaking ribs and smashing organs, following with shield bash to the face got the brawler on the ground.

Taking another hit to the man's leg for safety, Raijen stepped around to finish with a strike into the head. Th sound of skull caving in suddenly broke the silent trance, with the cheers of the public soon following.

Realizing what just happened Raijen took a step away looking down, unable to stare at the corpse. His breath was heavy, yet he felt strangely energized and sick at the same time.

“And our new winner is newcomer Raijen! What a surprise, making an enemy think he is sacred, luring him in, only to smash him to pieces.”

Going for the racks Raijen dropped the shield on the sand, fingers letting go of the tight grip on the mace. The heavy metal landed on the face of the shield rolling to the side. Before he could think of what to do next someone grabbed his shoulder.

Startled, Raijen grabbed the hand on his right shoulder, wrapping his right hand around the elbow he had the man in the lock as he faced the guard. Staring at the fearful eyes Raijen recognized the armor and hurried to release the lock, the guy took an involuntary step back. Surprised at his own reaction he stared at Raijen with murder in his face, yet his eyes had the trace of fear men had when faced with unpredictable animals.

“What are you doing? Your next fight starts in two bells.”

Not sure he heard him right Raijen mumbled a response.

“What next fight? It was supposed to be just one today.”

“Yeah, but then you killed the guy so easily, master wants you to fight one more.”

Grinning at Raijen with eyes that showed no mirth, but demanded silent obedience the guard pointed next to his leg at the mace. His voice was cold, confident.

“Pick it up.”

Raijen wanted nothing more than to smash his face in, but new it would be the same as a death wish. Picking the shield from the sand Raijen sat on it, putting the mace over his legs.

“Come for me when it is time then.”

Raijen closed his eyes in silent protest. Not really caring what the men will do after this.

He can do nothing to me here, if the master wants me to fight, he can’t risk any punishment.

Raijen focused on his breath, the need to go and destroy something was growing in him, it was equally scary and intoxicating. Unable to calm down, his eyes fell onto his palm again.

Deciding to do at least something to occupy his hands Raijen grabbed dagger from the rack, took the shield and put the face of it in front of him, considering the iron dagger for a moment he started to carve the same rune as on his hand into the shield leather as well. To his surprise, or according to the expectation, the lines started to emanate a green glow when finished.

Something felt different though, he had no idea what, but the fact that the color of the rune on his hand changed made him nervous. Unable to stop himself Raijen continued to carve one rune after another into the shield, he stopped only when the guard stood in front of him again.

“It is time. You are in the fourth ring this time.”

Indicating with his head to follow. Raijen looked down at his handiwork, there were over a dozen runes of various sizes but of the same type and light. Grabbing the shield and mace Raijen followed to the fourth circle of death.

Another one, how many of them died today?

Passing fresh corpses dragged over the sand Raijen glanced down, sweat broke on his whole body when he recognized one of the faces. Thinking he was the only one from his house who was here today was a mistake. Two of the guys he was training with were now just pieces of meat to be put on the pile. Their empty eyes stared at him, inviting him to join them.

Snapping back to his current situation Raijen entered the ring just as the other guy was announced. Not caring about the men's reputation or what he accomplished here.

It doesn’t matter. He is in the way and there is no other way for me to walk away from here other than over the corpses. Regardless whose they are.

Facing against him the shield felt strangely lighter compared to before, the mace went to the same position as well, on the rim of the shield. Slightly bent knees distributed the weight evenly for any moves Raijen needed to make. Staring at his opponent Raijen waited, it was always a waiting game of who loses patience first. The biggest difference was in Raijen's mind, not caring what anyone else had to say. There was no pride or honor in dying and masters made sure everyone understood that over the years of training.

But his opponent was different, new, inexperienced in the art of the war and murder. Easily swayed by the public, by the promise of fame, without much of training compared to the years of bloody tyranny Raijen went through in the mountains.

The crowd started booing, demanding more for what they paid. But Raijen stood his ground unmoving, observing and tracking his opponent. The men had a long sword, a blade with a length of over one meter, hefting it in both hands he started closing on Raijen. The guy was huge, bulky muscles contracting under the weight of the metal were covered in the sheen of sweat reflecting the lights of the torches. The heavy smoke of fires in the room burned the lungs and made it harder to move.

The first strike came fast, vertical slash from over his head. Raijen stepped to the side to avoid it but was cough with a heavy kick into the shield forcing him to step back, getting close to the rope.

What happens if I step outside of the rope? What is the punishment for desertion?

His mind reeled to the pile of bodies stacked next to the wall, lying in the pool of bloody sand.

Bringing the sword around, the blade of the weapon hammered into the side edge of the shield with the men's full body weight behind it. With the hit Raijen panicked, Raijens eyes went wide as the green glow intensified and the runes flared with impact. Thought his body was forced to move and Raijens hand felt little numb, there wasn’t any real damage.

That should have either burrowed into the shield or break my arm. I need to pay bloody attention or some fucker like Nahr will take me.

Staring at the boy in disbelief the crowd was in the stunned silence over the spectacle. Raijen rushed the guy shield first, pointing the blade it was expected to go straight into the shield trying to pierce it. The shield held, the blade bounced off and wrenched itself from the man's hands as the vibration of the strike immobilized his arms.

With a heavy grunt, Raijen went for his side, connecting with ribs bringing him on the knees. Holding his belly in pain as blood spilled from his mouth, the fighters' body bent forward with face going to the ground.

Taking a step back Raijen looked around on the crowd. The people went wild, cheering and chanting.

“Death, death, death.”

Fixing his eyes on the kneeling form of now breathing corpse, his hand froze.

He is desperate, in pain and afraid, knowing full well what is coming, yet unable to do anything about it. Will I really execute him?

Of course. There is no other way.

Going around Raijen stood behind him bringing the mace down on his head, spilling the brain over the sand to the delight of the people around. Lowering the shield Raijen stared at the runes for a moment before looking up, spotting master in the balcony looking approvingly and pleased with the outcome.

What has become of me? Am I really alright with killing another man without so much as little remorse? But he would have killed me too, not thinking about it twice. Was it really that big of a deal in this place, where everyone comes to die or kill? In this world, where everyone lives by the laws of violence and power dominance, can I, or should I resist it?

Maybe it isn’t wrong, maybe it is expected and quite natural. Who am I to judge them?

Leaving the corpse behind Raijen wondered what was next to come.