CHAPTER 63: WALLFLOWER

The warrior, Sansid, leaned his head back and roared into the sky. The audience exploded in response, chanting his name in rhythm.

’Sansid. I’ll remember that name. His body will be cold by the time we leave this place.’

The two faced off against each other, with the girl not having any weapons to wield. They slowly rotated around the ring, their steps measured.

Sansid called out to her, his voice being caught by some hidden microphone and broadcast for all to hear.

"You can give up now, little girl, and I’ll go easy on you! No reason to break your pretty face when you’ll die anyway!"

Wallflower didn’t react even when the camera shifted to her face. Although it was hard to tell, Charon thought he saw tears streaming down her cheeks, which was all the proof he needed that this was an unjust and vile place.

’And I thought I needed to justify myself about killing these sick freaks.’

The announcer’s disk floated up to the center of the cavern, his arms held out wide as he proclaimed the beginning of the fight.

"May the High Elders prosper, may the gods give their favor, and may the champion reign!"

A bang rang out.

Sansid launched himself at Wallflower, his swords slicing through the air as he attempted to kill her in the first strike. With almost inhuman reflexes, he ducked under the attack and spun around to his other side.

Ending her motion, she stood tall, her lips quivering in a silent sob as she faced her opponent.

He lifted his faceplate, revealing a vicious snarl. A long scar ran across his bulbous nose, and his chin jutted out a little too far. He wasn’t hideous, but he was far from winning any beauty contests.

"You ready to be plucked, Wallflower? I’m going to bash your skull in and drink from your skull!"

As if to punctuate his threat, he swung his blades forward into an "X" pattern, two thin white lines shooting from cross.

The girl sidestepped and crouched to avoid them, her lithe frame untouched by the magical attack.

Grunting in disappointment, Sansid charged in, spinning his blades as he cut down at her. She backpeddled away from the first and darted in for the second, narrowly avoiding a wicked slash aimed at her midsection.

As she moved away this time, she stayed near him, winding around his back as he struggled to spin in his heavy armor.

The crowd pointed and laughed at the comedic display, a few even beginning to cheer for the Wallflower as she expertly maneuvered herself around the far larger warrior. Charon, himself, found it easy to root for her, his fists subconsciously clenching and unclenching with every clash.

’She is fast enough to dodge him, but how does she plan to kill him? She doesn’t have anything to hurt him with. Her fists can’t pierce steel!’

The result felt certain; there was no way Wallflower could ever beat a fighter like Sansid, yet she struggled against the impossible anyway. If not for how horrid it was, Charon might’ve felt inspired.

She continued to embarrass him, constantly avoiding his attacks by inches as he grew more and more enraged. His shouts could soon be heard without the microphone, like a wild animal.

His strikes became more powerful, his misses smacking into the sand and sending debris flying. A small haze built up as more particles were sent flying, Wallflower occasionally rubbing her eyes to clear them.

It seemed to irritate Sansid, too, but he had more room for error than she did. He could be blindfolded and still able to come close to hitting her, while she was balancing on a blade’s edge, always a second away from instant death.

"Stop running and let me end this charade! I’m destined to win, and nothing can change that!"

His words continued to have no effect but make her tears come out faster, the small drops streaking down her face in a continuous stream. Each time he saw them, Charon’s blood boiled more and more.

He raised a fist and banged it against the bars, earning the gaze of another nearby warrior who was watching the fight.

"You feelin’ bad for him?"

Charon scoffed.

"Him? Why would I feel bad for him? He isn’t the one who is facing someone thrice his size!"

The fighter talking to him raised his eyebrows.

"You haven’t seen many fights, have you?"

Confused, Charon shook his head, but kept his gaze on the fight, unwilling to look away.

"Yeah, that figures. I was the same way when I first saw that monster get assigned a fight. The stains were on the floor for weeks after. No one could remove them, despite replacing all the sand time and time again."

Charon frowned behind his mask.

"Sansid? The announcer said it was his first fight."

The fighter’s expression hardened, his eyes unblinking as he stared down at the arena. The clash was unchanging, the girl constantly moving around the far larger warrior as he wildly lashed out, no closer to finishing the fight than when they started.

"It is. I’m talkin’ about Wallflower. Most fighters will withdraw the moment they see her name on their scorecard. The only ones who don’t are either new or arrogant as hell."

That finally broke Charon’s concentration, his eyes leaving the fight as he turned to the man.

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled, the sound dark.

"That little girl is a wolf in sheep’s clothin’. She is a devout worshipper of the Blood God, and I reckon he really likes her since he keeps blessing her. Every fight turns bloody when she is involved."

The man gestured with a finger.

"Just watch, she is almost done playin’ around."

Facing the arena, Charon’s brow furrowed as he contemplated the information.

’Her? The monster they keep talking about? That’s impossible, she is so small and harmless!’

The camera flashed to her crying face again, her eyes red from sand irritation.

’Yeah, he has to be messing with me. He saw a guy he hadn’t seen before and decided it’d be funny to play a prank on him.’

It was the kind of thing he’d done himself to new orphans, messing with someone who was too nervous to notice.

’I would never do something like that at a time like this, though. A girl ais bout to be butchered, and he just wants a cheap laugh.’

Sansid rushed her again, throwing his arm out to extend his reach. Wallflower somehow managed to jump just over the attack, her feet landing on his metal pauldrons before pushing herself up into the air and flipping away.

It was an incredible display of gymnastics, and reminded Charon of a certain blonde swordsman.

’Emerius would’ve loved her skills.’

By this point, Sansid was breathing heavily, sweat covering his forehead as he took deep breaths, his breastplate rising and falling with each gulp.

His cheeks had lost a lot of color, turning a pale white as he heaved air back into his lungs.

Despite the change, he still fought on, his attacks coming more forced with every minute. Initially, Charon didn’t notice the change, but then Sansid called it out himself.

"What are you doing to me, witch?"

He staggered forward, barely catching himself before falling, one of his blades being stabbed into the sand to support his weight.

Her head fell to her chest as she choked out another sob before responding, her voice being repeated by the speakers.

"I only did what was willed of me."

Sansid grunted and threw himself forward, tripping over his own feet and tumbling onto the ground. His blades fell beside him, burying themselves from the force.

Charon watched it all with wide eyes, confused about what was happening. His gaze flicked to the warrior who had spoken to him.

’Was he telling the truth?’

Sansid pushed himself to his knees, throwing his head back and roaring in the sky just like he had done at the start of the fight. His shout continued, slowly morphing into a scream of pain and agony as blood began to seep through the cracks of his armor.

Rivers of red flowed down the gray metal, pooling around his legs and staining the sand. His hands weakly reached into the sediment and yanked his blades up. With extreme effort, he dragged one knee forward after the other, shuffling towards his opponent before being unable to push on any more.

His swords fell through his fingers as his limbs collapsed uselessly to his side, blood dripping down his fingers.

The cameras zoomed in as trails of vital fluid ran down his face, mirroring the tears streaming down Wallflower’s.

His cries turned into desperate pleas for mercy as he extended an open palm towards the girl, but she just ignored it, turning to the crowd and giving him a short curtsey.

"I thank you all for witnessing my performance."

Sansid collapsed behind her, his armor covered in blood, and his mouth open in an eternal scream.