Chapter 79 The Weight of Strength

The handlers shoved Kai forward into the passage. The torchlight flickered across his face, streaked with blood that wasn’t his. His hands clenched around the splintered staff, the last piece of wood left after too many fights.

Patrona walked beside him. Her steps dragged but her eyes were sharp. She had bled too, swung until her muscles gave out, but she refused to leave his side.

Above, the crowd roared. The stomp of their feet shook sand loose from the walls. They wanted more. They always wanted more.

Kai stopped. He looked down at the broken staff in his hands. The wood was split where the serpent’s skull had cracked against it, its surface scarred from claws and blades.

He dropped it.

The sound was small, just a clatter on stone, but it made Patrona turn.

“Kai?”

He rolled his shoulders, blood stiff in the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t need it.”

Her brow knit. “You’ll fight barehanded?”

“I’ve been holding back. I didn’t even know it until now.” He flexed his fingers, joints popping. His fists felt heavier than the wood ever had. “But I can feel it. I’m stronger than them. Stronger than I thought.”

Patrona stared at him like she didn’t recognize the man beside her. For days, she had watched him fight, seen him bleed, seen him survive things no one else could. But to hear him admit it now—there was no hesitation in his voice.

The handlers grunted, one of them kicking the staff aside. “Move,” he barked. “The crowd’s waiting.”

Kai stepped forward with empty hands.

The iron doors opened, and light hit them like a wave.

The arena floor was already a graveyard of old battles. Sand black with blood, pits carved into the ground where chains and claws had struck. The stink of death hung over everything, but the crowd didn’t notice. Their cheers rose like thunder, hungry for more.

The next gate opened.

A collared warrior stumbled out, his chains dragging. He carried a sword too heavy for his frame, his eyes glassy, his body trembling with each step.

The handlers shoved Kai into the pit.

The warrior charged. His sword swung down, clumsy but brutal.

Kai caught the blade in his hands. His palms burned, skin tearing under the edge, but he didn’t let go. He twisted. The sword wrenched free of the man’s grip, clattering to the sand.

The crowd gasped.

Kai slammed his fist into the man’s chest. Once. Twice. The warrior staggered, breath knocked from him, then crumpled into the sand. Alive, but beaten.

The crowd booed, unsatisfied. They wanted death.

Kai didn’t care.

Patrona leaned against the gate, her lips parting in shock. She had seen him fight before. She had seen him kill, seen him bleed, seen him struggle. But this wasn’t struggle. This was power. He had thrown the man aside as if he was nothing.

“You…” Her voice was low, only for him. “You’ve known all along?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t see it until now.”

The handlers dragged the man away. Another gate groaned. This time a beast thundered out—a boar-headed brute, arms thick as tree trunks, its collar glowing faint with magic.

Kai didn’t wait. He ducked its swing and drove his fist into its jaw. The crack echoed across the arena. Patrona slashed its side with both knives, and Kai finished it with another blow that dropped the brute.

The crowd erupted, but not all in cheers. A ripple passed through them—murmurs, unease. The air itself shifted, colder, heavier.

Kai felt it too. His chest tightened. His hand moved to the pendant at his neck.

It burned. Hotter than before.

The crowd’s roar thinned, as if pulled down into the sand. Torches guttered, flames bowing like they were being smothered. Shadows thickened in the corners of the arena.

Kai’s knuckles whitened on the chain. He didn’t see her this time, but he knew. Malrissa. Demonlord. She was near. Her influence pressed in, unseen, bending the fight into something darker.

Patrona shivered. She looked around, ears twitching, but saw nothing. “Kai…?”

His voice was low. “She’s here.”

“Enzo?”

He shook his head. “No. Bigger than him.”

Patrona’s eyes flicked to the crowd, then to the dark corners. Her blades trembled in her grip. She couldn’t see it, but she believed him.

The handlers shoved another monster through the gate—a demonspawn, claws dripping smoke. The torches hissed as it hit the sand.

Kai didn’t reach for a weapon. He raised his fists.

The spawn lunged. Kai met it head-on, his punch splitting its jaw sideways. Blood sprayed across the sand. Patrona darted behind, knives cutting deep into its ribs, finishing what he started.

They stood together over the twitching body. Patrona touched his arm, her hand trembling. “Do you see yourself now?”

Kai’s fists dripped blood, his knuckles raw and split, but his voice was steady. “I’m not like them. I’m not like anyone else here.”

Her eyes burned into his. She wanted to deny it, to say he was just a man, but she couldn’t. She had seen too much.

“You’re stronger,” she whispered. “Too strong.”

He shook his head. “Not too strong. Just strong enough.”

“For what?”

His gaze lifted toward the shadows clinging to the highest seats, where no torches burned. He didn’t see her, but he felt her there. “To end this. Not just for Elijah. For all of them.”

Patrona’s chest tightened. She wanted to speak, to promise she’d follow him into fire, into hell itself. But she didn’t need to. He already knew.

Another gate groaned. Another beast was shoved into the sand. The handlers barked. The crowd roared.

Kai didn’t care.

His fists clenched, dripping blood into the dirt.

He had fought for survival. He had fought for coins. He had fought for Elijah’s girls.

Now he would fight for something else.

Not just survival. Not just rescue.

He would fight to bring the whole thing down.

Patrona stepped to his side, blades in her hands. She didn’t flinch at the noise, or the blood, or the shadows crawling across the sand. She only looked at him and nodded once.

Together, they stepped forward.

And the crowd screamed for more.

Kai’s fists bled, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need the staff. He didn’t need anyone’s permission. For the first time, he knew he was stronger than all of them. Patrona’s eyes held him, steady and sharp, but the crowd’s noise faded into nothing. Somewhere in the dark, the Demonlord was watching. Let her watch. He was done holding back.

The real fight hadn’t even begun.