Carl's POV
The sharp, metallic ringing of steel against steel echoed endlessly across the coliseum, bouncing off stone walls that had long since learned how to drink in sound—and blood. Sparks flew every time the swords collided, brief flashes of light against bodies already soaked in red. I watched from above as the two gladiators hacked at one another with what little strength they had left, their movements sloppy, desperate, and slow. Their armor was cracked, dented, barely clinging to them. Blood streamed down their arms, legs, and torsos, pooling beneath their feet with every uneven step.
They were both already half-dead, yet neither seemed willing to be the one to fall first.
