Disappointment filled Max, as it seemed many other fighters surrendered before they even took the field. Aware that it could happen, the crowds were still upset because it meant no blood was spilled to satisfy their desires. It also meant they couldn’t bet on a match that never took place and they considered an easy win.

Alfred’s opponent never took the field, and as the man walked out there, waving and bowing as the crowd cheered and booed, it was evident Alfred was not happy either.

In mere moments, the field had been cut down to just a few remaining fights.

Max had a fight, but everyone else would be getting a free pass if things continued as they were.

“Betting it all again, sir?”

Max nodded, signing the metal plate again as the man smiled.

“Should I ask the odds?”

A smirk appeared on the worker's face as he read a list Max couldn’t see. “It appears they are one-to-one odds. I guess they expect an actual fight.”

With the gate almost fully open, Max turned and watched the worker start to walk away.

An actual fight… Have I missed something?

The crowd roared with excitement as they prepared for the first fight in a while. Max watched the man he would face, twirling his massive two-handed hammer like it was a toy.

“You want to surrender?” Max shouted, knowing the man’s answer even before he asked.

Smiling, the warrior shook his head. “I was going to offer the same, but I knew you would say no also.”

Max nodded and then shrugged. “What is your name?”

“Pew.”

Giving a slight bow, Max held his halberd in one hand and watched as the warrior, a foot taller than him, returned the gesture.

The bell sounded, and the crowd’s shouting was so loud it hurt for that initial second.

The warrior moved forward, his chain armor looking no worse for the wear after all those spells and the holes the rogue had put in it.

Moving forward, Max watched the man, seeing nothing that screamed danger but knowing there was never a time to be complacent.

At seven yards, they faced off, circling slightly, and Max could see the smile still on Pew’s face.

His mind read those movements, read the position of the hammer, and felt the possible attacks that Pew could do.

And then it happened. Pew rushed forward, a side swing coming as the huge hammer head hurtled toward him.

Knowing the path of the hammer, Max saw the only option was to parry it. Holding his weapon straight up to block it and keeping his hands away from the point of impact, the head of the hammer slammed into his metal-wrapped shaft and bounced off.

The clang of the impact rang out, and Max saw the warrior’s eyes widen slightly at how Max had never moved from the blow.

Another attack came, Pew shifting his weight and driving the hammer from above.

Stepping sideways and using his weapon, Max sent the head of the weapon into the ground.

The crowd roared, but Max ignored it as strike after strike failed to connect.

Everything Pew attempted to do either missed or was easily deflected.

A dozen or more attempts later, Pew backed up, shaking his head and unable to comprehend what he was dealing with.

“I can’t hit you or move you! You’re not even sweating!”

Max nodded and shrugged. “I’ll offer you the chance again. Surrender now, before things go bad.”

Shaking his head, Pew grinned.

“Maybe I’ll give it a few more attempts before I do that!”

The warrior dashed forward again, but Max could tell this time he was slightly faster. It was as if he had been holding back just a little, trying to gauge Max’s speed and reaction time. The blows hit with more force, yet Max knew the man’s highest stat was constitution. Even if he gimped himself, there was no way he could compete with Max’s strength and dexterity.

As a blow came toward his shoulders, Max noticed something different at the last second.

The hammer flickered a barely noticeable white color before returning to its normal metal hue. When the weapon changed color, its speed doubled, and Max saw the direction of its swing shift. His evasion and sonar helped him to read it, but there was no way he could dodge it in time. Leaping to the left, he still felt the hammer connect with the side of his leg.

A crack came, and Max knew it had broken a bone, but as he tumbled through the air, he closed his eyes, activated his regeneration, and let himself roll, wincing as the bones rejoined.If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

By the time he landed and stood up, Max’s leg was healed, and he smiled, the pain of it gone.

He could see Pew’s reaction as he stood up.

“How… you should be…”

The man was trying to figure things out as he spoke, his words inaudible to anyone but Max with his sonar skill.

It’s our turn…

A hunger consumed Max as he realized the man had something he wanted. An ability on such a short cooldown that it had been used to defeat that rogue was now available again.

He felt himself charging Pew, could see his eyes go wide, and, for a moment, prepared to lift his hands and shout surrender before realizing that option was gone.

It didn’t matter that Pew wasn’t fast enough to react. Even if Pew had kept his hands ready, or had he raised them up, Max had already won.

His halberd came at such a blazing speed that Pew couldn’t get his weapon in position to stop the attack.

The power behind it drove the shaft of his hammer away as the axe blade cut through the chain pants and hacked off Pew’s left leg below the knee.

As the crowd roared, shouts and cheers washed over Max, he was oblivious to them.

He was angry and hungry.

Pew had tried to trick him, and now it was his turn to repay that favor.

His axe continued its swing, even after cleaving off the leg. Max swung through, cutting into the right leg and using his hips to send the warrior spinning through the air.

Crashing to the ground, Pew had the wind knocked out of him, his hammer bouncing from his hands into the dirt.

Max’s hammer came down, shattering a shoulder with the hammerhead, bones turning to paste as the warrior screamed in agony.

Kill him!

Max stumbled backward. His chest was heaving, and he was struggling to hold back. He wanted to kill Pew. To claim his power for himself, but Max knew what that would bring. What would that do if he gave in?

No… I can’t…

You must! You need to be stronger to protect your friends. To protect your family. He can offer that!

The voice was right, and Max knew it.

He looked around the Colosseum, listening to the crowd, and knew somewhere out there Fowl was watching. Maybe even Tanila.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Max saw healers waiting near the edges of the barrier.

“Surrender,” Max growled, fighting his own tongue that didn’t want to offer it.

A single hand came up as Pew lay on his back, blood flowing from his wounds.

“I surrender!”

It wasn’t a shout but barely a cry.

Max nodded and turned.

“I accept!”

Tanila shuddered and shook her head, her breath coming quickly.

“He did it,” Fowl muttered. “He did it.”

“Yes, but it’s not over. He isn’t done.”

Turning to look at Tanila, whose hands were trembling, Fowl saw the concern in her eyes.

“What do you mean? He resisted. Even if he didn’t bet on himself, he has earned enough! Sure he…”

Fowl realized what Tanila meant.

“He won’t stop, will he?”

She shook her head, a few tears falling from the movement of it.

“No. He will win this or die trying.”

Groaning, Fowl leaned back in his seat.

“That was impressive,” Adaneth said. “For a moment, I wondered if Pew’s trick would catch you off guard.”

Max glared at the elven woman. “How many of you do this every time?”

She chuckled and shrugged. “This is my eighth or ninth time competing in these competitions. Normally, I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t think you realize what you are up against. You should take your money and go.”

The sixty gold Max had earned weighed in his mind, and he had considered it, but now something kept him from just folding.

“How come you haven’t quit yet? Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

A laughter that seemed far too sweet and pure came from her throat as she shook her head.

“Seth, you have no idea what is about to happen next, but I do hope that I am the one who gets to face you.”

“You can’t face me next it should be–”

“Nope. There are five of us left. They will redraw the brackets. One person will get a bye, and the other two pairs will face off. The winner of both those matches will fight again and then face the one who got the bye.”

“When did that rule happen? No one said anything about that!”

The noise of guards entering from the far tunnel attracted their attention momentarily, and Max waited for Adaneth to reply.

“You signed it when you first agreed to this. That brackets might need to be redrawn based on numbers. You should have noticed there were only thirty slots.”

Leaning in, Adaneth whispered in Max’s ear, her breath warm on his exposed skin.

“Every time it ends this way. Every time, Alfred will get the bye. No one fights him. The fun is seeing who gets number two.”

Her words seemed foolish, and yet Max began to realize she must be telling the truth. Of the five left, only he and one other person were outside the three he sensed from the start as being a real threat.

The remaining rogue was sweating, when Max took a moment he could feel their heart beating too fast. Adaneth and the elf mage were still as calm as could be. All the way on the other side of the room, Alfred sat on a bench, looking bored as he watched the four of them. He was out of the range of Max’s sonar, but he didn’t need it to see that the man had no fear.

“So you’re tel–”

Adaneth held her hand up, cutting Max off as the guards who had entered cleared their throats.

“The final pairings of this bracket have been decided! The first pair will be Saevel versus Seth, followed by…”

Max’s mind went wild, and he ignored whatever the guards had said next.

Adaneth had told the truth. They were going to set all this up for him and the other person to be butchered.

A hand tapped his shoulder, and Max snapped out of his thoughts to see Adaneth frowning.

“Looks like you and I won’t get a chance to play after all,” she said, leaning in close again. “Just know, had we played, I might have let you live.”

She smiled and turned, flicking her red braid and moving toward the male rogue, who was now visibility shaking as she walked over to torment him.

Saevel began to move toward him, the elf moving slowly and deliberately. His face showed almost no emotion, but Max could see a slight upward turn of the corner of his lips.

“You have fought bravely,” Saevel said when he stopped a few feet from Max. “Are you going to quit like a coward or die like a man?”

Max couldn’t help it. He had been ready to walk away. To take his money and go. What Adaneth had told him had upset him, knowing that the odds were stacked against him. That someone, somehow, was pulling strings and culling fighters while making money for others.

Then, this elf had the nerve to talk to him like that. To speak to him as if he was no one.

It took every ounce of strength Max had to not let loose the beast inside him that wanted to be free.

When he finally stopped laughing and saw that every eye in the room was on him, Max noticed Saevel had taken a step back.

Even though shorter, Max moved forward, reclaiming the lost space, and glared into the elf's yellow eyes. “And here I was going to make you the same offer.”