Chapter 71 The Gauntlet

The handlers shoved a gold coin into Kai’s hand. A token, his first reward.
“Spend it how you like,” one muttered. “You’re human. No chains, no boarding. Just keep coming back when called.”

Kai turned the coin over in his fingers. Heavy, warm from the handler’s palm. It meant nothing to him—except the quiet promise that more would come. That he could fight again.

He tightened his grip. “Send me back out.”

The handler smirked. “You’ll regret asking.”

The gate opened again.

Fight after fight came. Sometimes a warrior with steel and scars, sometimes a beast foaming at the mouth, sometimes a monster dragged from some dungeon’s depths.

Kai met them all.

His body should have broken long ago, but every time his bones screamed he forced them to hold. Each breath felt like it might be his last, yet he refused to stop. The crowd fed him—thunder and fire in their throats, screaming for blood.

He gave it to them.

A warrior’s blade shattered under his fists. A beast’s charge ended with its muzzle driven into the sand. A monster’s shriek was silenced beneath his heel.

But whenever a beastfolk stepped onto the sand—a young fox-eared spearman, a trembling wolf-girl, a scaled fighter with eyes full of fear—Kai pulled his strength back. He struck hard enough to bring them down, but not to destroy them. He left them breathing, broken but saveable by the healers. He didn’t know why. He only knew he couldn’t bring himself to slaughter them.

Humans and monsters, though—those he punished without hesitation.

The handlers began to whisper about him in the shadows. The crowd gave him names: Iron Fist, The Dreaming Killer. Each new challenger fell, and still Kai demanded more.

High above, Patrona and Revoli watched with every muscle wound tight.

At first it had been awe—disbelief that the man in the pit was truly Kai. Then it turned to dread. Blow after blow, fight after fight, and he kept rising. Blood dripped from his mouth, his arms shook, yet he wouldn’t stop.

“Why is he doing this?” Revoli whispered, clutching Patrona’s sleeve. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with tears.

Patrona’s lips pressed tight. She didn’t answer. She could see it in his face—an emptiness behind his eyes. He wasn’t fighting for them. He wasn’t fighting for anyone. He was fighting because he didn’t know what else to do.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw him.

The armsman. The brute who had taken Elijah’s girls. He stood with a soldier, their attention sliding toward her and Revoli like wolves scenting blood.

Her stomach knotted. They were boxed in.

“Patrona…” Revoli whispered, voice breaking.

The only way out was down.

Patrona grabbed her hand. “Jump!”

Together they vaulted the railing. Ten feet dropped to sand. They hit hard, knees buckling, dust spraying. Before they could gather themselves, a shadow fell across them.

A sabertooth liger prowled the pit, fangs long as daggers. Its yellow eyes locked on the intruders.

The beast lunged.

Patrona rolled, dragging Revoli with her, the creature’s claws gouging the sand where they had been. The crowd roared at the chaos, thrilled by the unscripted intrusion.

“Stay behind me!” Patrona shouted. She shoved Revoli back and spun, blades flashing into her hands.

But before the sabertooth could pounce again, a figure stepped between them.

Kai.

His chest heaved, sweat streaking his face, blood dripping from cuts across his arms—but his stance was unshakable. He didn’t glance at Patrona or Revoli, only fixed his gaze on the monster.

The sabertooth roared and sprang.

Kai met it head-on, his fists slamming into its jaw mid-leap. The impact cracked like thunder. The beast tumbled aside, dazed, and the crowd erupted in wild cheer.

Patrona grabbed Revoli, holding her close. But her eyes were on him. On Kai.

He finally turned.

For a heartbeat their eyes met. No recognition.

Only concern.

“You two…” His voice was hoarse, ragged. “Stay close. I won’t let it touch you.”

Revoli’s throat closed. Tears spilled as she stepped forward. “Kai—it’s me! It’s us! You don’t remember?”

His brow furrowed. He wished he did. Something tugged at the edges of his mind, a warmth, a familiarity—but it slipped through his grasp like smoke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t remember. But I’ll protect you. I promise.”

Revoli sobbed, pressing her face into her hands. Patrona’s jaw clenched, but she reached and squeezed the girl’s shoulder.

The sabertooth staggered upright again, growling. Kai turned back, fists raised. “Stay behind me,” he repeated.

The beast lunged. The fight was brutal, desperate—but when the final blow fell, the sabertooth lay broken in the sand, its body twitching before it stilled.

The handlers stormed in.

Kai bent down to Patrona and Revoli. His voice was softer now, weighed with something like guilt. “I’ll come with you. Just…let me collect my winnings first.”

The crowd roared as the handlers led him away. He returned moments later, coins clinking heavy in a leather pouch. He looked exhausted, but he still stood.

Patrona seized his arm. “This way.”

Together they fled the arena, slipping into the veins of Gildenreach. The alleyways swallowed them, away from the cheers and blood. The city grew darker here, lamps fewer, shadows thicker. Not the beastfolk district, but close—a place where unwanted eyes rarely lingered.

At last, in the dim backroom of a narrow house, they stopped. A single candle burned low on the table, its light unsteady but enough to show faces lined with exhaustion and hope.

Kai sat with his back against the wall, Revoli pressed close on one side, Patrona on the other. He looked at them, and though his memory gave him nothing—no names, no moments, no tether—his chest told a different story. They mattered. Somehow, deep inside, he knew that much.

Patrona couldn’t hold herself back. The memory of his one kiss—the one that had broken her chains of cruelty and pain—burned like fire every time she closed her eyes. She had lived with it, wrestled with it, told herself it was wrong to want more. But seeing him alive, within reach, with no certainty of tomorrow… regret was no longer an option.

She cupped his face in her hand, firm, trembling, and kissed him. Not gently, not shyly, but with all the pent-up truth she had buried. His lips were warm, steady, and though he stiffened in surprise, he didn’t pull away. For him it was confusion—something foreign yet familiar—but for her it was release.

When she broke away, her voice was hushed, raw.
“You changed me. That one kiss. I couldn’t live without giving it back to you… even if you never remember me.”

Revoli lowered her head, silent tears sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t speak, but her grip on Kai’s arm tightened as though she feared he might vanish if she let go.

And there—watching with wide eyes and trembling hands—was Cherish.

Her face lit the moment she saw him. “Kai…” Relief broke her voice. “You’re alive.”

The bovine blacksmith stepped forward, voluptuous figure framed by the glow of the candle. Every line of her body was confident, provocative, her corseted bodice pressing curves into prominence as she leaned against the table. Cherish was never subtle; she wielded her form like a weapon, a reminder of the strength and power she owned in her own way.

Her gaze lingered on Kai—admiration mingled with hunger—but not the kind rooted in memory or love. She wanted him because of what he had done: defending beastfolk, defending her trade, proving himself in ways few men dared. An ally, yes, one who desired to make herself unforgettable in his eyes, but still only an acquaintance.

Kai didn’t look away. He didn’t know her, not truly, but he recognized her importance in this moment. She had brought the girls to him, kept them safe, stood as a bridge he could not ignore. Whatever her intent, she was on their side.

Right now, that was enough.