Chapter 68 The Arena of Gildenreach

The noise reached him before the sight. A wall of sound—cheers, shouts, the rhythmic stomping of feet—rolled through the narrow streets and pulled Kai forward. He followed it, boots scuffing cobblestones until the cramped alleys broke into the wide, beating heart of Gildenreach.

The square spread out before him, crowded with bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder. In its center yawned a vast pit, a wound carved into the earth. Four descending levels ringed the hole, each lined with stone steps that wound downward in clever patterns, allowing the masses to pack in without crushing one another.

The arena.

Kai paused at the rim. The scent of dust and sweat clung to the air. He began the descent, step by step, pushed along with the surge of the crowd. When he reached the lowest tier, a wall ten feet high separated him from the arena floor. Beyond that wall was nothing but sand, blood, and spectacle.

The gates on either side groaned open.

From the shadows of one emerged a chimera—a monstrous thing stitched from three nightmares. Lion’s mane bristling, goat’s head curling down with horns, serpent tail lashing and hissing. The crowd erupted in applause at its very presence.

Opposite came a lizardman, tall and lean, scales glinting green beneath the daylight. He bore a spear in hand, his bow deep and reverent before he lowered into stance.

The chimera pawed the ground. The signal was given.

The fight began.

The lizardman struck first, fast and sure, spear darting like lightning. The chimera’s claws swept wide, gouging sand and splintering stone as the lizardman rolled clear. The crowd roared approval, each clash answered with stomping feet that shook the stone beneath Kai’s boots.

For a moment, it looked as though the lizardman might prevail. His spear grazed the beast’s flank, spilling dark blood. The arena gasped, the air charged with hope.

Then the chimera’s goat head slammed down, horns crushing the fighter’s chest. The serpent tail whipped and struck, fangs burying deep. The lizardman dropped his spear, his body shuddering before he collapsed in the dirt.

The chimera roared, victorious.

The sound that followed was deafening. Men and women screamed in joy, tossing coin and drink into the air. Healers rushed forward, their hands glowing as they fell to their knees beside the fallen fighter. They worked quickly, urgently—but the lizardman’s body stilled, unmoving.

The crowd cheered his death louder than they had cheered his fight.

Kai’s jaw clenched. He could not cheer. He could not move. His eyes fixed on the sand, on the body dragged away, on the beast led back through its gate.

The next bout began before the dust had settled.

From one side came a young woman—barely into her twenties, wiry and sharp-eyed. She carried no weapon, her only armor the surety of her stance.

Her opponent was an Amazon, taller by a head, shoulders broad as an ox, her arms thick with muscle. The square thundered for her as though victory were already certain.

The fight started with a rush. The Amazon lunged, fists like boulders. The smaller woman dodged, rolled, and sprang upward with impossible grace. She struck the Amazon’s jaw with her heel. The giant reeled, stunned.

Cheers exploded, but so did jeers.

The two circled. Again the Amazon lunged. Again the young woman spun, ducked, and flipped. Her hands struck pressure points, her legs wrapped and twisted. And with a final, staggering move, she drove the Amazon down into the sand.

The pit fell silent.

The young woman stood over her fallen foe. The crowd held its breath. She could have killed her then—crushed her throat, snapped her neck. Instead, she hesitated. She lowered her hand. She spared her.

The silence broke into rage.

Guards poured into the arena, their chains ready. They shackled the victor on the spot, beating her when she resisted, dragging her away like a criminal. The Amazon was lifted gently, healers surrounding her as though she were the true prize.

The crowd cheered again—not for the girl’s mercy, but for her punishment.

Kai stared, throat dry.

He did not understand all the rules of this place. He did not know the measures of victory or the scales of honor. But he knew enough: mercy was weakness. Strength was coin. Blood was the price.

And he would pay it.

His mind wrestled with holes—memories absent, names half-remembered, faces blurred like smoke. But one image stayed sharp: Elijah’s daughters, taken in chains, crying as they were dragged away. That memory alone burned bright enough to drive him forward.

He didn’t remember his own past. He didn’t remember if he had family, or children, or someone waiting. But Elijah had shown him trust. A stranger. A broken man. And for that, Kai would fight.

He did not know how he would win. His body was scarred but strong. His will was cracked but unbroken. Something deep inside told him he could stand in that pit and not fall. Somehow—though he could not explain it—he felt strong enough.

First, he would fight to buy back Elijah’s girls.
Then, he would save Elijah himself.
And when the time was right… he would tear down Enzo’s empire, brick by gilded brick.

The roar of the crowd swelled again, another match beginning. But Kai no longer watched the fighters. He only watched the sand.

And he waited for his turn.