The blows were bursts that impacted against their bodies again and again.
They weren't simple attacks, they were closed storms on living flesh. Each impact echoed in the arena like dry thunder, making the entire coliseum vibrate.
Blood spread everywhere, splashing the ground dark red, mixing with the dust and forming irregular puddles that told the story of the fight better than any narrator.
Kairou breathed with difficulty.
Each inhalation was a punishment, each exhalation a conscious effort.
His chest rose and fell irregularly, as if his lungs hesitated between continuing to function or giving up once and for all. In front of him, Agnitus remained upright, solid, almost imperturbable.
He barely had one or two insignificant scratches, superficial marks that did no justice to the violence of the confrontation.
His posture remained firm, his gaze clear. He could keep fighting for hours, maybe days, without stopping, as if the very concept of fatigue had no place in his body.
With each received impact, Kairou's performance decreased.
His movements became slower, less precise. His reflexes no longer responded as at the beginning. However, even so, he did not give up.
Something inside him refused to fall. His body, despite being destroyed, showed an abnormally resistant density, as if each bone had been forged to withstand more than humanly possible.
That took Agnitus by surprise, who for the first time since the fight began slightly frowned.
—You're like a damn wall —he said, letting out an amused laugh, laden with disbelief—. I hit, I hit… and you're still there.
Kairou did not respond. Not because he didn't want to, but because he could no longer.
His lips were split, his jaw rigid from pain. Blood ran down his arms, sliding from his knuckles to his elbows.
His fists trembled, opening and closing involuntarily, as if his own body no longer obeyed orders, only basic impulses. Even so, he was still there. Standing. Staggering, but not falling.
The audience watched in an almost impossible silence.
No one shouted. No one celebrated. Everyone was trapped in the scene, unable to look away.
No one could believe that someone without talent, someone who did not stand out for special abilities or refined techniques, had managed to resist five full minutes against Agnitus.
Five minutes that seemed an eternity. Five minutes that weighed like years.
Some spectators clenched their fists without realizing it.
Others held their breath. Even among the veteran fighters there were looks of respect.
Not for the strength, but for the stubbornness. For that absurd will not to fall.
Agnitus took a step back, observing him carefully. He saw how Kairou's legs trembled.
How his shoulders were slumped. How every fiber of his body begged for rest.
And yet, he remained standing. Not for pride. Not for glory. Simply because he still did not allow himself to surrender.
It was then that Agnitus understood that this was no longer a common fight. It was a test. And like every test, it had to end.
Without saying anything else, he launched himself again toward him to finish that battle.
The air seemed to compress the instant he moved. His feet struck the ground hard, propelling him forward with brutal speed.
His movements were clean, precise, without any waste.
The first blow impacted Kairou's abdomen. The sound was dry, deep.
The air escaped from his lungs in a choked gasp. The second, third and fourth blows fell directly on his chest, one after another, like hammer blows.
Each impact made his body retreat one more centimeter. The last blow was to the face. Direct. Definitive.
Kairou's guard broke completely.
His body was hurled backward and fell violently against the arena floor. Dust rose around him as he remained motionless, ending the round with victory firmly in Agnitus's hands.
For a few seconds, no one said anything.
—You're too resistant, kid —Agnitus finally said, lowering his arms—. That's why today you gave one of the best battles of your life.
Kairou lay on the ground, unconscious, his body covered in wounds, bruises and blood. And yet, a faint smile was drawn on his face. He hadn't won. But he had given everything he had. Nothing was held back, nothing left untried.
For him, that was enough.
—Mmm… you know? —Agnitus continued, crossing his arms as the mages approached—. Today you will become my disciple. When all this is over, I will train you and turn you into one of the best hand-to-hand combat warriors. You'll see.
The mages lifted Kairou carefully, enveloping him in healing spells as they carried him out of the arena. Agnitus watched them leave without saying anything else, with an expression different from before. It wasn't mockery. It wasn't superiority. It was recognition.
Immediately, the announcer took the megaphone and captured the attention of the coliseum, which remained in absolute silence, as if everyone woke up at the same time.
—Well, ladies and gentlemen, as you've seen, the winner of this match is the sin of Wrath. A big round of applause!
The place exploded. Applause, shouts, cheers. The accumulated tension released all at once.
Many were still trying to process what they had just witnessed. It hadn't been just a victory. It had been a demonstration of pure resistance.
—In a few seconds we will begin the next battle, once the two pairs for the next round are decided.
Upon saying that, four stones appeared suspended in the air above the arena, rotating slowly, wrapped in a magical glow. The audience fell silent again, expectant, watching as destiny was decided at random.
The stones began to fall.
Two touched the ground first.
The man ran to check the names and, after a few seconds, raised his gaze toward the audience.
—The next round will be between… the sins of Sloth and Envy! And then, Pride against Gluttony!
The stands immediately regained their spark of excitement. The murmur turned into shouts, improvised bets and crossed comments.
Two completely different confrontations were about to come, and everyone knew it.
The arena was quickly cleared. The blood disappeared as if it had never been there.
The cracks in the ground closed. The magic restored every centimeter, leaving it impeccable, ready to receive the next combat.
The two enormous doors opened with a grave and heavy sound.
A man and a woman walked toward the center of the coliseum.
Sloth against Envy.
A completely different battle, not only for the sins they represented, but for the way they moved, breathed and looked at the world.
Dormius advanced with slow, almost dragging steps. He seemed not to want to be there.
He showed no tension in his body, no fire in his gaze. As if winning or losing was exactly the same for him.
Viridia, on the other hand, walked with firmness. Her eyes were alight, full of desire for combat. Each of her steps transmitted intention. Hunger. Longing to prove something.
And so another battle began.