Suddenly, a kind of scroll appeared floating in the hand of each fighter in the coliseum. On it were written the rules of the tournament and the order of the battles:
Sonno Björny — Arena 1 — Second Fighter — Opponent: Chyo
Never even heard of him...
"I'm the second to fight in the main arena. What about you two?" I asked.
Misti was cheerful and smiling.
"I'll be the second-to-last! And it won't be for another two days!"
Akrivís, on the other hand, was in despair.
"I... I'm going to be the first in the second arena..."
Misti burst out laughing at the situation, leaning on Akrivís' shoulder, who was now kneeling.
That's when Protá arrived at my side, dressed in simple clothes and carrying only a sword at his waist.
"Aren't you going to use a weapon, Sonno?"
"I was trained to use my fists and my mind. But occasionally, I use a wooden sword."
"Ah... I see. I'm counting on you in the finals."
"Same to you. Good luck."
Meanwhile, Thymós was already arguing with one of the participants who had bumped into him.
But then, the gate of the coliseum opened.
The first arena was circular in shape, surrounded by stone columns, and about the size of an entire cathedral — not even counting the audience stands.
Protá and Akrivís headed through the second gate, to the right of the main one.
"Let's find a place to sit, Misti."
"I want the best view possible!"
We sat in the front row, where many were competing for space.
A few minutes later, a man covered in black robes entered, carrying a large manuscript.
"Enter!"
The inner gates opened, and the sound of creaking chains silenced the excited crowd.
"To my left, we have 'The Untamable'! Known for his wild and devastating instinct!"
"And on the other side, the Crimson Swordsman! Vyssin, winner of the tournament two years ago!"
The crowd roared Vyssin's name.
The Untamable had spiked brown hair, steel around his fists, and was the tallest of all. His expression resembled a bear staring down a fish before devouring it.
His opponent wore a red hat with two curved points like inverted horns. His clothes were monk-like, and his eyes were hidden under the brim.
"May the present god bless this battle... Fight!"
The fight began quickly. The Untamable charged toward the swordsman, and the referee vanished into a dark mist.
Vyssin dodged all of the beast's blows without taking his hands out of his pockets. He blocked kicks and countered with his own feet, showing a staggering difference in skill.
"Aren't you ashamed of being so savage?" the swordsman taunted. "You should give me an exciting fight — not get humiliated this easily."
The words made The Untamable's face flush with rage. His teeth clenched, and his movements grew faster. He managed to grab the swordsman's collar.
"You bastard!"
He threw him to the other side of the coliseum, creating a cloud of dust that blocked our vision.
"Is he okay?" Misti asked, rooting for Vyssin. She reminded me of Mika, who always loved watching sword fights.
"He's strong. He wouldn't have been caught unless it was on purpose."
From the middle of the dust, Vyssin emerged on his feet — completely unharmed. He took his hands out of his pockets and adjusted the torn collar of his shirt. The crowd went wild at his phenomenal return.
Seeing that, Misti remembered her past life — the moments training with Yaso using wooden swords, and the joy she felt every time she landed a strike.
"See, Misti? I told you it was part of the plan," I said.
Despite the memories, I kept my focus on the fight.
Once again, The Untamable charged, now at double speed and with murderous eyes.
"What a pity, Untamable. I expected more from you... But you know what?"
For the first time, the Crimson Swordsman drew his blade and raised it above his head. His aura turned red, and the dust vanished.
"This blood on my sword… came from you!" — His blade began to drip blood, even though he hadn't struck anyone.
The moment he finished speaking, a deafening hiss hit even the spectators.
The Untamable, who had been about to strike, suddenly froze and collapsed to the ground — without a single visible wound.
Everyone shouted Vyssin's name. The scene was breathtaking, intensified by the pressure in the coliseum air.
But I had to leave quickly — my match was next.
"Cheer for me. I won't take long."
"You got it!"
The swordsman called the healers:
"Treat him immediately. His internal organs were affected, but he won't die."
And he left without even glancing at the audience.
The gate wasn't far. I went down a few stairs and entered a corridor. That's where Vyssin passed by me.
"I know you're strong. Don't lose before the final round."
"Keep that sword ready, Vyssin."
While we spoke, the referee was already announcing our names.
"Well… what a fight we just witnessed.
Now behold Chyo! The academy's most renowned fire mage!"
When Chyo entered — with light eyes and blond hair — the crowd cheered passionately, and many women screamed his name.
"And his opponent: Sonno! A new student at the academy, but full of potential!"
From a distance, I heard pitiful comments: a newly enrolled student going up against such a crowd favorite.
As soon as I entered, everyone sat down again — except for Misti.
"Go, Sonno!"
I won't lie — it was a cute gesture, coming from someone who supposedly hates me.
Chyo looked entirely confident. He wanted to impress. This was his moment to show off his magical prowess.
But I had a goddess inside me.
All he had were women inflating his ego.
"I'll end this quickly, So... whatever your name was."
"I'm sure you'll remember it."
"You can try, newbie."
"I'll smother that fire of yours with the palm of my hand."
As soon as the referee stepped away, the battle began.
I didn't take the first step.
The crowd fell silent. You could hear the cheers from the other arena — calling Akrivís' name.
I can't lose. Not to anyone.
Chyo raised his index finger and began to form a fireball — the size of a horse. The air grew hotter, and my adrenaline surged. This was my first fight since death.
"Catch this!"
Before he could launch the fireball, I extended my hand and used my ability: I entered his mind.
Just for a few seconds, but it was enough to ruin his plan.
"Exploding!"
The fireball exploded above him, throwing Chyo to the ground.
The hot wind spread across the coliseum.
"Nice one, Sonno!" Misti shouted, her voice loud enough to be heard from anywhere.
"Hot, isn't it, Mr. Fire?"
"You… bastard!"
But it wasn't for nothing that he was the best fire magic user at the academy.
Flaming arrows struck me from behind. The heat burned my skin, but not enough to bring me down.
I took two steps forward, pulled the arrows from my back, and took a deep breath.
I can't falter now.
Chyo was getting up slowly, his face smudged with soot from the explosion, eyes wide with fear.
"You managed to hit me… with cheap tricks. There's no beauty in canceling your opponent's attack."
"Tricks?" I replied. "That's called intelligence. You should try it sometime—maybe you'll find beauty in it."
He screamed and launched another sequence of arrows, which formed from magical circles in the air. I rolled to the side and moved in, closing the gap between us. His eyes lit up, preparing another magical strike.
Now.
I focused for a second, briefly entering his mind. It was difficult—he resisted—but I was stronger. His body froze, his breath caught.
In the blink of an eye, I appeared in front of him.
And… BAAM!
A direct punch to the stomach sent him flying backward.
The crowd roared for me for the first time.
Misti shouted my name. It was strange to hear that kind of support—especially coming from her—but somehow, it gave me strength to keep going.
Chyo dropped to his knees, trying to recover.
"How…? I… I couldn't think…"
"Intelligence starts with the eyes, not the mind," I replied, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth.
He clenched his teeth, frustration written all over his face. Then he raised his hands and began to conjure something bigger.
A wall of flames rose between us, blocking my view of his movements.
The heat increased until the air itself began to vibrate.
Suddenly, fireballs appeared in circles above me, spinning slowly.
A trap combined with magic? Looks like he finally started thinking.
But my mind is sharper.
I closed my eyes. Instead of dodging physically, I dove into focus. I could feel the presence of each orb. They weren't stronger than me. They were objects, made of magic—and thus, manipulable.
I extended my palm.
"Silence," I whispered.
The flames froze in the air. About twenty seconds of tension was all it took. I made a quick spin and, with an arm movement like steering a ship, made all of them explode around Chyo.
He screamed, engulfed by his own flames.
When the smoke cleared, he was on the ground again, breathing heavily. His clothes were scorched at the edges, his hair singed.
But he was still conscious.
"Give up, Chyo. You've already lost."
He spat blood on the ground and stared at me.
"Never. Beauty only exists in those who… don't give up."
I sighed. Then I stepped forward again.
This time, I didn't use my mind. Only my fists.
The first hit: his chin.
The second: his shoulder.
The third lifted him off the ground and smashed him against the stone floor, hard enough to crack it beneath him.
"Know that this is personal, Chyo."
To finish the fight, I slapped him across the face, knocking him unconscious.
The crowd fell silent for a second. Then I received more applause than in the first match.
The referee reappeared in the arena, cloaked in shadows.
"Winner: Sonno Björny!"
I heard Misti's voice rise above all the others:
"I KNEW IT!!"
I smiled. Inside, I was shaking—not from fear, but from the certainty that this was just the beginning.
Chyo had fought with everything he had, and still he fell.
If the next ones are stronger…
I need to evolve. As fast as possible.
The referee walked up to Chyo to check his condition. He was still breathing, but unconscious.
Before leaving, I looked toward the stands and saw Misti smiling. I waved back. For the first time, there was no irony in that smile.
I descended the stairs into the resting corridor, body tired but mind more alive than ever.
The hallway beside the arena was damp and quiet. The contrast with the deafening roar of the coliseum was almost uncomfortable—as if the world up there lived in its own fantasy, while down here was the raw reality.
I sat on one of the stone benches, ran a hand over my face, and closed my eyes for a moment.
Sweat mixed with the smell of smoke and blood. My fists throbbed. Chyo's flames had hit me deeper than I'd realized.
"Are you okay?"
I opened my eyes slowly. Misti stood in front of me, holding two water bottles. Her hair was a bit messy, and her breathing was heavy—maybe from rushing to find me.
"For someone who just put out a mage's fire with his hand, I think I'm doing alright."
She let out a quiet laugh and sat beside me, handing me one of the bottles.
"That was… amazing, you know? When you blew up that fireball over his head… I nearly jumped out of the stands."
"Nearly? So you just stood there?"
"Don't mock me, idiot. I was cheering for you!"
"I noticed," I said, with the most genuine smile I had.
A brief silence followed. The kind of silence that doesn't bother—but says a lot. Misti tapped her feet nervously, forming a musical rhythm, probably gathering courage for something. I, on the other hand, just watched every detail: the shine in her eyes, the way she hid a certain pride in me behind a carefree expression.
"You looked like a different person up there," she finally said. "Confident… like you knew exactly what to do the whole time."
"Because I did."
"And outside the arena? Do you know what to do then?"
That caught me off guard. I looked at her closely.
Misti's eyes were locked on mine. There was a deeper question behind those words—something even she didn't seem ready to admit.
But I didn't fully understand it. Maybe because of past trauma.
"Not always," I replied honestly. "Out here, you can't predict the next blow."
She slowly relaxed, her breathing returning to normal.
"Maybe… that's why we fight."
"What do you mean?"
"To understand who we are—even when we're not fighting."
For a moment, only our breathing filled the space. The muffled sound of another fight exploding above felt distant, insignificant.
"Thanks for cheering for me," I said.
"Thanks for winning," she replied, almost in a whisper.
She stood up first but hesitated before walking away.
"Sonno?"
"Yeah?"
"If I ever become your opponent… don't go easy on me, okay?"
"I wouldn't. What I did to Chyo today is just a preview of what I'd do."
She smiled for real this time.
"I'm going to check on Akrivís. Wait for me in the stands!"
Then Misti stood and left.
I remained there, sitting for a few more minutes, feeling the heat of battle start to fade from my skin—but not from my soul.
That conversation, that look… reminded me of an inadmissible past.
But…
The real fight was just about to begin.