Chapter 5 — The Champion’s Last Battle

The Colosseum roared. Tens of thousands of spectators filled the stands, their cheers and jeers blending into a deafening roar. The sun gleamed on the sand below, reflecting off armor, weapons, and the masks of the audience. Yet in the center, Kaelen Drayce stood alone, calm as ever.

For four years, he had been undefeated. Four years of perfect victories. Four years of whispers calling him a cheater, an unworthy champion. And today would be no different.

His opponent, a towering swordsman from the Northern Wastes, bellowed a challenge and charged. Kaelen’s golden eyes narrowed beneath his mask. He watched, analyzed, and waited. Every move the swordsman made, Kaelen mirrored flawlessly, countering with precision, timing, and strength.

The crowd erupted in cheers, but soon, whispers began.

“Too perfect…”
“Impossible…”
“He’s cheating!”

Kaelen ignored them. He had always ignored them. Winning was never about applause. It was about mastery, survival, and understanding. He replicated the opponent’s fiercest techniques, turned their own strikes against them, and in moments, disarmed the swordsman with effortless grace.

When the final blow landed, Kaelen’s blade pointed at his opponent’s chest. Silence fell across the Colosseum. Then the jeers returned, louder this time. “Fraud!” “Cheater!” “Not a true champion!”

Kaelen removed his mask briefly, letting the wind brush against his face. Sweat mixed with blood streaked his skin. His jaw was tight, not with anger, but with resolve. The crowd could not see the truth. They did not see the hours, the sacrifices, the pain behind each perfect move.

He sheathed the Morphblade. “Victory is mine,” he said quietly. The words carried no triumph—only finality.

Behind the crowd, younger fighters and challengers watched with awe, envy, and confusion. Some admired him; others despised him. Kaelen did not care. He had won the battle, but he had lost the audience. And that loss… that loss of respect, was unbearable in its own way.

After the match, Kaelen walked from the arena quietly. No celebrations. No accolades. Just the soft echo of his steps on the stone pathway. He passed the bustling streets outside the Colosseum, the markets, the laughter, the life he would never fully join.

He remembered the boy he had once been—the weak fighter, the one who learned only by copying, the one who endured every failure. He realized now that the crowd would never understand the truth. They saw only the outcome, not the journey.

Kaelen’s hand brushed the Morphblade’s hilt beneath his cloak. Four years as the undefeated champion, yet he felt more alone than ever. The jeers of the crowd echoed in his mind like a chant: “Cheater. Fraud. Not a true champion.”

And in that moment, he made a choice.

He would leave. Leave the Colosseum. Leave the fame, the wealth, the shallow admiration of those who could not understand. He would wander the world. He would seek something real—a challenge worthy of his skills, a purpose beyond the arena.

The doors of the Colosseum closed behind him, sealing his legend inside. Outside, a new path awaited. One not measured by victory or defeat, but by mastery, discovery, and the endless pursuit of perfection.

Kaelen Drayce, the Mirrorblade, was gone from the Colosseum. And the world would never forget him.