A few days later after Yuri's fight

“So, let me see if I understand this…”, Connor said with a frown.

“Go on.”, Yuri said with a stupid smug.

“You want me to use just footwork to not get hit, while simultaneously only defending and watching out for kicks?”, Connor asked, slowly and unsurely.

“Yuhuh.”

“And I am supposed to keep attacking him until he falls to the ground?”, The yellow Lacerta asked, a lot more happy but still confused than the Elf.

“Pretty much, yeah.”, Yuri nodded.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope. You know how to pack a punch, man. That's cool and all, but you need to know how kicks and distance work.”, He explained, motioning very awkwardly how kicks go.

“I can't learn how to properly kick with an injury, multiple in fact, and just two weeks of training.”, Connor groaned with a pained grimace. Sometimes the aborigine seems crazier than he shows.

Zagul, after putting on the practice gloves, annoyingly explains, “You don't need to know how to kick, you need to know when others are going to kick and how to act accordingly.”

“Meaning,” Yuri continues, “you need to learn how to counter it or avoid it.”

“But if I grit the pain and punch the guy, won't it be better and faster?”

Zagul gets closer and starts lightly punching Connor's shoulder. Connor doesn't understand why but doesn't stop the Lacerta from doing it, since it doesn't hurt.

“Faster? Yeah, if you want to be leveled down and be buried six feet under.”, Yuri shrugs.

“What? And can you stop punching me?”

“No.”, Zagul said without stopping or sharing a glance.

“No one ever taught you this very basic thing, like, the oldest lesson in the book?”, The coach asked, a bit unnerved.

“What lesson? Ouch! Stop that!”

“Why should I?”

“Because it's starting to hurt me!”, Connor said, preparing a big punch.

“There you have it. Lesson learned.”, Zagul stopped.

“Excuse you?”

“Dude, I can't believe you didn't know this! The more you get smacked, the more it stings. Zagul's punches at the beginning didn't faze you, but they ramped up, right? Just taking hits or blocking won't cut it; you gotta land your own punches and dodge, like they say: hit without getting hit.”, Yuri explained straightforwardly. It's honestly impressive that this line of thinking never crossed his mind.

“That… is true.”, Connor admits and it's left speechless after this solid argument.

“You can continue with your strategie, but you will get brain damage really fast. Get the fundamentals down and then we can start developing a gimmick for you.”, Zagul said while cracking his neck.

“Weave and step away, Connor. Make us proud!”, The aborigine gave a big thumbs up.

Connor wasn't sure how this sparring would go, but this training was necessary, whether he liked it or not. No thank you, he didn't want to eat liquid food with a straw and neither did he want to lose to whoever he was going to face. Yuri called a lot of favors to put his plan into motion, to have this space to train uninterrupted and to save Zagul from a bad fate, so if he needed to win in order for them to leave this damned place, so be it. With a quick breath, his toe aligned with his heel and his guard raised he prepared for this, basically, out-boxer training.

Henry didn't waste time, because as soon as Yuri said “begin”, he dashed forward, throwing left and right at rapid pace, but thanks to the more nimble nature of the Elf, he dodged the attacks. It didn't feel natural to just be in the defense, as he could spot some openings that he could attack, but his instincts told him to shut up and watch. In his previous fight, Zagul used his tail and the momentum of the previous attack to punish his harsh decision. Connor remembers the pain vividly and he ought to not feel it again, if possible.

However, the Elf didn't account for that punch reach was different from kick reach. Only noticing the leg kick way later than possible to do something. The kick connects, making Connor stumble but quickly recovering from the sudden attack, but this was but a small distraction to conceal a roundhouse kick to his torso, which if had full force behind it, would certainly break his ribs. The whiplash of the attack was enough to make him bend over, and Zagul took the perfect opportunity, stomping the ground and putting weight to his punch, hitting the chin with great force.

Connor could only endure the pain that was to be hit in two delicate spots one after the other. With no speed or reaction to it, he fell to the ground, quite shocked by the quick succession of attacks and how this seemed to be too well executed to be made on the fly. If Connor gets hit by these more, chances are that he isn't going to fight thanks to a training injury. That made his blood boil, being taken away before he could even throw a single punch. He quickly got up and squinted to the Lacerta, inviting the gecko to continue the onslaught.

The improvement wasn't as visible as one might think. Sure, Connor is focused, but that isn't enough to suddenly improve in a nick of time. He still needed to block, to dodge, to calculate true and false distance, lean his body and have great discipline to stick to his training objective. Sometimes, Yuri would shout instructions to Zagul, changing the pattern of attacks and also giving some advice to Connor, as to how to properly block leg kicks, how to effectively roll away from kicks and to save his energy by not moving too extravagantly away from the attacks. The least you move to dodge and attack, the more you can spare energy to counterattack.

In one instance of today's training, Connor was really fatigued after constantly dodging the kicks of Zagul. Yuri leisurely warned that he can hit back now that he has a grasp of how he can fight defensively. When Yuri saw the face that Connor was making, he was slightly taken aback. It wasn't a face of diabolical happiness, of relief or even one expectant face for retribution. Connor was focused, concentrated and ignored whatever was outside of the single task he has right now. The same face he did when both of them fought in the arena. Henry didn't seem to notice this shift in behavior, but Yuri was now really curious about what was going to happen.

Zagul was tired, himself still being injured and sparring with Connor for a good amount of time. He figured that since he authorized Connor to strike back that this session was soon to be over, so he would finish this fast and precisely. A quick one-two to the face, but Connor blocked it almost flawlessly, doesn't matter since the main attack is the kick on his body. With a quick motion of his leg, the dust of the ground lifted as he rapidly rose. The attack was faster than usual, but didn't have the same power as before, a quick and decisive final strike to end this training.

*catch*

Why can't Zagul put his leg in the ground?

He looked at his leg and couldn't believe what his eyes were showing. Connor caught the leg as soon as it hit his torso, with a simple step forward, diminishing the already reduced damage the kick had. What was unsettling was not that he caught the attack, but the fact that one arm was necessary to do so. Zagul heard a crack, a step in and the violent wind that followed Connor's punch coming right to his face. He couldn't even react in time, it was too sudden, too unexpected. The punch connected like thunder hitting a mountain, exploding blood and teeth everywhere. That punch was the last thing Henry properly processed in his mind for a good few seconds before regaining consciousness as he sat on the ground.

“By the Gods…”, Yuri said in disbelief.

“What the…?”, Was all Zagul could say after getting dazed by the punch.

Connor breathed rapidly, gasping for air, still in the same pose as he punched Henry. He slowly raised his hands looking at them in shock since this wasn't the first time he suddenly concentrated so much on a fight. But he knew that this kind of power and defense wasn't natural of him. He'd never do something remotely similar in his past, not even if he dedicated days training this exact move he would've performed just as perfectly as he did just now. It was somewhat intoxicating to apply such a powerful strike, but it was also a big disappointment to have no fucking clue to do it again. However it was undeniable that this training, despite not being what Connor was used to, has its benefits. Great ones at that.

“Connor?”

“Yeah?”, He answered while catching his breath.

“How the hell did you do that? That was so sick!”, The enthusiasm of the human tribesman was palpable.

“I have no idea.”, He answered simply.

“Shaglacktör, that is one hell of a counter. Sheesh, my face still aches.”, Zagul said as he painfully got up.

“Guess that's a call for a good rest. Ya better do some exercises, lift some weights. I'll come back with the good stuff.”, Yuri said as he waved goodbye.

Pursing his lips, Connor decided that the best thing he can do right now is not to lift weights, but rather keep grinding his speed, stamina and reaction time. He grabbed a basket and filled it with rocks. Thankfully Yuri reserved a proper training ground instead of those makeshift cells in the prison. Here he had a lot more freedom to think I'm his training regime, as well as look at the sky. A rarity since he could only do it on a window that had wide iron bars, which was quite bothersome.

“What are you doing?”, Zagul asked confusedly. The idea of gathering this many stones didn't register in his mind.

“Grabbing stones.”, Well, that Henry could tell.

“What for?”

“So you can throw them for me.”, He said as he finished filling the basket.

“You want me to throw stones at you?”, This was either a masochist request or a very specific training that he didn't know of.

“So I can grab them. I use my toes on my footwork a lot more than others thanks to my fighting style. If I grab the stones you throw at me, I will develop my footwork as well as my eye-hand coordination.”, He explained matter-of-factly.

That did make some sense in the Lacerta’s mind. Truly if this is going to improve what he said it would, his counterattack style can develop way faster, which in turn can save time for another type of training down the line. They are focusing entirely on Connor's defensive side for now, getting out of the way of punches, kicks and other attacks so he can hit them back while not taking damage, something the Elf himself never really thought about. A dumb mistake, but he isn't a Light Elf. Those guys are all about philosophy, intelligence and self evaluation. What bugs his mind is that these elves think they are endearing and wise instead of condescending and idiots.

Back on track though…

“Fine, I guess. So I just throw them where I want?”, Henry asked, just to be sure.

“Yeah.”

A small but visible grin appeared in the gecko's face, “All I needed to hear.”

----------------------------------------

Richardson was in his office, reading aloud a monetary report to Gazeff. Both men were working on their business and prospects, tending the basic needs of their businesses. In the past few days, the amount of profit in coin and credit was monumental considering the victory of Connor in the arena. Investors and sponsors of Koloss and other nations immediately came to start negotiations, whether it is for security or for money, they weren't worried since they would only offer deals and contracts that benefited Eldora.

Mostly.

“In the end, to summarize all this report, we've gained five times what we've spent since we arrived here, Lord Gazeff.”, Richardson said as he put the paper on the table.

“Splendid.”, Gazeff said as he took a sip of his tea, “What about the Draconian Iridium?”

“The crystals have been delivered to Eldora and are already in your territory according to the reports I've received.”

It was a formality to inform Gazeff about this, since the boss himself would later check the papers. Richardson sometimes questions the actions of this Idle Old Man. Regardless, that's not for him to decide now. His plan needs to wait until he has secured a safer position, one that even when he eventually fucks up, there will be no consequences. As of now, he will continue his dutiful work.

“Good. That means my position on the hierarchy will increase by at least two seats.”, Gazeff caressed his beard thoughtfully.

Two seats, enough to raise him from the 4th position to the 2nd most wealthy and powerful family in the Nation. The position would make him take more responsibilities, sure, but it also had a lot of benefits. He could finally directly negotiate with other nations, even with other continents, buy a piece of land far away from the coastal Eldora and manage things from where he wanted to live. A few things would be changed for that to happen, but still, it was worthwhile to do so.

Richardson could only silently look at the man already thinking of retirement.

The door opened up, “Heya boss! Coming through!”, Yuri is ever so impolite.

“Yuri, good to see you.”, Richardson refocused on his trustworthy ally, “Congratulations on your victory too. How's Connor?”

“Hey boss, I'm good, thanks. The brawl was a breeze, just a little one-two action and a snack afterward!”, Richardson ignored the flex of muscles Yuri gave, “As for Connor, he's doing okay, but he still spaces out randomly.”

“Spaces out?”, He raised a brow.

“Every night, he's stuck thinking about the woman he loved, and the fact that his actions led to her demise doesn't make it any easier. I'm trying to help him out, but it's gonna take some time.”, Yuri frowned in sympathy.

“I assume he can fight, right?”, Gazeff asked from the other side of the room.

“He's definitely gearing up for the fight. The training's been kinda weirdly smooth and surprisingly tricky.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Dude, he's way too intense in his training. If he keeps going full pace every session, he's gonna give Zagul a concussion for real.”

The three men grimace at the possibility. Zagul, even if he wasn't a great person, he was a great fighter. His value wouldn't increase as much, thanks to Connor, but he has his uses. Mercenary work could still do wonders for their bank account, but if he gets too injured, might as well take him back to his original work.

“See if you can train with Connor while Zagul rests for a while. You asked the favor but you need to make sure things don't go south.”, Richardson warned with a stern face.

“Sure. Just wanted to give an update.”, Yuri said that while removing earwax.

“My God, that's disgusting.” He thought as the slave left.

----------------------------------------

The aborigine coach, looking at the bracket on the way back to the training grounds, noticed something interesting. The next opponent that Connor is going to face was already beaten by Yuri once, so his insight on the fighting style would be great for the upcoming brawl. It's rather curious how it's the same guy, here in Koloss of all places. If memory serves, the guy was sold to a Lieutenant of Askar, a Theocratic nation. Yuri isn't sure what religion they believed in, but knew that slavery was legal there, although the laws were more advantageous to the slaves, having plenty of opportunities to leave and gain their freedom. And that bothers Yuri, because he defeated this guy on Eldora, months ago, he was sold for a (considerably cheap but still lucrative) amount and remained to be a slave?

That's suspicious, and he is no detective.

Donovan Rick, another human and another moron in Yuri's eyes. One of the many Cellmates he had the displeasure to have, since Donovan acted way too cocky for someone that couldn't leave his cell, couldn't raise his voice to the keepers and couldn't have a decent meal. He was an enigma that the aborigine decided to not solve or involve himself with. If you argue with an idiot, they will drag you to their level because they are too stubborn to think for themselves. When they fought, it was honestly hilarious how full of himself he was, talking in the middle of their fight and assuming that Yuri would simply let him finish talking instead of doing anything else than punching him in the face. Donovan wasn't the brightest star in the sky, and certainly not the shiniest, but Poatan wouldn't call that fight easy. Wanting to believe or not, Donovan knew how to play his game and how to break a guard when he wanted to, but that's the least of his problems. Connor can easily circumvent this issue, but the thing was that he tackled mid-fight.

Wrestling, if he remembers correctly.

Wrestling is a dynamic sport where two competitors grapple to gain control and pin their opponent's shoulders to the ground. It demands strength, agility, and strategic thinking, blending athleticism with technique. Wrestlers aim to outmaneuver, overpower, or outsmart their rivals, making it both physically and mentally demanding. Yuri barely kept up with this fighting style when they first fought since it was so alien to him, fighting on the ground, taking shots to the face with his back and legs incapable of moving away. Thankfully when he managed to get up, he reversed the tides of battle and delivered a great kick to Donovan's body, finishing with a hook to the temple.

“Guess we need to adapt our training.”

No biggie, he just needs to find a way to maintain the fight on their feet so Connor can make his game right, call the right moves and deliver the best attacks. But what could Donovan have learned in Askar? A religious place could have their own cards to play and since Yuri has no idea what they have to offer, preparing blindly might not be the best thing to do. The Wrestling part he could cover, but a hidden arsenal? That's rough.

As he made back to the training grounds, he greeted the keeper watching over, who could not hold a straight face… because he was holding laughter? Yuri looked in the same direction as him and the scene that occurred in front of him made him worried and amused.

“I SAID TO THROW THEM NEAR ME! NOT AT ME!”.

Connor screamed while running for his life, apparently away from Zagul who had a basket full of stones and proceeded to shoot every single one at the Elf.

“OH SORRY!”, He wasn't sorry, “I COULDN'T RESIST SUCH OPPORTUNITY! PAYBACK FOR THAT STUPID KNOCKOUT YOU GAVE ME!”

Zagul seemed to be like a catapult, using a giant boulder to assassinate Connor.

“FUCK YOU, HENRY!”

“FUCK YOU TOO!”

Yuri slowly turned to the keeper, “What the hell happened while I was gone?”

“Lots of stuff”, he stopped mid-sentence to laugh, “but that's the end result.”

Honestly, Yuri couldn't blame the teary eyed keeper.

----------------------------------------

After an explanation and demonstration of Connor's idea for training, Yuri gave a death stare towards Zagul, who wasn't regretting his decision, not being fazed by the coach's glaring. He commended the efforts of the Elf, taking initiative and all, but he had already developed plans as he came back.

“So what are we going to do now, Coach?”, Henry said as he cleaned his teeth with his nails.

“Well, I got the scoop on your next fight when I bounced earlier. Crazy how you two go straight for the kill as soon as I'm out, but whatever.”

For some reason, Connor felt relief when Yuri decided to let this little mischief slide.

“Good news and bad news time. Good news: the dude Connor's up against in the arena? I already whooped him months ago.”

“Donovan, right?”, Henry asked as he remembered the fight, “That's good info, since you know how he fights. Good for training.”

“Yep, I know his moves, but the bad news is that he's got a couple of surprises left. He's into wrestling, hard to grasp with little prep, but no worries, I've handled that. The real challenge? Dude's from Askar, where religion is next-level. They might have some sneaky tactics we haven't seen.”, From the way Yuri explained, Connor gets the idea that the fight was tough for him. Not the most reassuring pep talk, but he has heard worse.

“I think I can manage this Donovan bozo.”, Gotta think positive in these situations.

He's got this! He faces a fucking primate twice his mass, of course he can take a religious scruff.

“Connor, ya gotta train hard, and since Zagul's always hurt, I'll be your sparring buddy.”

“I'm sorry?”

“I know this guy's fighting style inside out, and I'm injury-free. Plus, I've been your coach, helping you step up your game, meaning I can pack the gains. Got it?”

“Well, you're not wrong, but don't you have your own fight to prepare?”, Zagul said with minor preoccupation.

“Chill guys, it will be fine.”

No one was particularly reassured.

“If you say so.”

“So…”, Connor started as he got up, “...what are we doing?”

Yuri put some rags in his knuckles, “I'll tackle you from time to time. You decide how to react.”

“Okay…”

The way that Yuri was preparing for this did not make Connor feel better. Even though the human was shorter and considerably smaller (not even mentioning reach), he still exudes that aura of calmness and control over the situation. If his past experiences are anything to tell him, he should not underestimate his coach.

“How the fuck do I know about auras? Oh yeah, the Erudite Sense.”

“Begin!”

As soon as Henry said that, Yuri dashed so fast that it looked like a blip, grabbing Connor's leg and powerlifting him so fast that he lost balance. With great force, the human threw him down, hitting his back full flat on the ground, and Connor immediately lost all air he had in his lungs. This is training, probably 60% of Yuri's strength and yet this made him regret every decision he made up to this point in his life.

“Fucking hell…”

----------------------------------------

Askar, Orïvah Weerling’s church, Outskirts, four months ago.

The church had about half a dozen of the village’s denizens attending the preaching. It's to be expected, since most of the people around these parts tend to work most of the day, bringing coins from other villages. The amount of profit per person is minimal, enough to feed a family of three people for a weekend at best, not including taxes of course. So, to spare time for religious obligations was either an act of devotion or desperation, sometimes being both or even neither. Orïvah would protect their souls and tend to their needs, sure, but most if not all the followers that appear here are only looking to better their lives instead of seeking penitence or understanding. Donovan sighed at the prospect, preaching the Holy Teachings to people that only cared about their own needs. Sure, their needs do come first. But what do they think will happen if their hearts only reeks of greed and egoism? One must reverence the deity, apply its teachings, lead by example, all without desiring for a reward, doing out of his heart, kindness and altruism so then you'd be blessed.

Then again, he can't be a hypocrite. He brushes these thoughts aside and prepares the sermon, addressing the greed but in ways that wouldn't target anybody specifically. The Goddess of Lightning would watch their faith and intentions and judge them in his place, so there is no need to raise a fuss about it. By the time he finished, the villagers got up from their chairs and started talking amongst themselves. If they were talking about the sermon or the latest gossip around, Donovan wasn't sure.

“Great sermon, Father Donovan.”

Donovan turns to his side, “Bishop Arthur. A pleasure having you here.”

They bow to each other.

“Despite being alone, you did a fairly decent job at preaching. I am sure this village will have a lot of believers in the foreseeable future.”, The Bishop looked at the denizens, who were on their way out. His expression exudes satisfaction.

As they opened the door, the cold and harsh weather invaded the church. The snowstorm outside aggressively hitting them, but they did not falter, taking the freezing wind and closing the door as soon as the last member left. Askar was located in the far North of Petruvia, meaning that it was constantly cold and snowing here. It's far worse in the outskirts, since to reach the capital the majority of paths and roads one can take will lead to the mountain range surrounding it.

“It'd be a lot easier if the patrons could donate money to this village. The majority of them can't eat properly. They will die if we don't do something.”, His voice had an apprehensive tone. He cared for these people. He didn't want them to turn themselves to slavery just to have a chance to eat a decent meal.

Looking thoughtfully to the ground, Arthur seemed to decide his next words would be enough, “You were a slave before arriving here, right?”

“Yes. Times of a less mature person.”, Donovan admitted shyly.

“In that case I have something important to talk about with you. Can we go to your office?”, The Bishop inquired, still thoughtful.

Donovan gestured to Arthur to follow him. The office was just behind the Altar he preached just now. It is a simple room, with lots of scrolls, books and a safe to keep the coins donated by the believers. He wouldn't admit that it was practically empty, since no money would be donated in these parts, for the reasons previously mentioned. As Donovan sat, he offered bread to the Bishop who respectfully refused but that didn't stop Donovan from eating himself. The wall behind him had the painting of Orïvah Weerling, or at least one of the many interpretations of the Goddess. She has dark skin, long green hair, and sky-blue eyes. Her physique is athletic and well-toned, alluding to years of dedication and discipline. Her ethereal posture as well as the graceful attire she wears in the painting shows that despite the title of Goddess of Lightning, she can show love and kindness.

The author of the painting didn't sign it, but left a quote once said by the deity:

If you want to run, run towards something.

A quote that still inspires generations after Her disappearance.

Turning to face the Bishop he asked, “What did you wish this secrecy for?”

“The Pope and the Oracles in the Capital had a reunion a few days ago. The prophecy this time is about catastrophe, one that will fall upon multiple nations.”, Arthur said, distressed, not believing the words himself.

“What? My Goddess! This…”, Donovan was too shocked to form any coherent sentence.

“Yes.”, Arthur conceded, “That's why they formed a plan. But it's rather… controversial to put it mildly.”

That's unusual. But then again, if this catastrophe is going to jeopardize nations, plans need to be made, no matter how unorthodox it appears to be.

“I'm listening.”

“As you are aware, the financial situation of Askar is precarious, with rising debt and economic uncertainties thanks to the deal our Spiritual Leaders made with Granits.”, Arthur started explaining.

“Yes, I am aware. If I remember correctly, it was a trade route to have seeds and grains that could grow even in our nation's condition, right?”

“Correct. Unfortunately, we, the nation, aren't strong enough to financially compete or to industrially develop, meaning that if we want to protect the commoners of the far end of the territory, we are forced to play by the others' rules.”, The Bishop looked disgusted after finishing. Donovan could theorize why.

“Meaning we need to make… Illegal gains?”

“Illegal for us? Yes.”, Arthur groaned in frustration, “We are out of options if we want to prepare for this… war. And I've been asked to see you and suggest something that will be insulting for you.”

“How would that be insulting for me? If it's the will of the Pope, the person chosen by our Holy Orïvah Herself, how could I possibly think that?”, He asked in curiosity and slight funk.

Arthur hesitated, probably thinking on how to say his next words, “Before coming here you were a slave as I stated before. We freed you from your shackles and taught everything you know. But for us, for Askar to raise funds and… soldiers, be them believers or not, they asked…”

And he stopped. Sweat could be seen in his face as he was conflicted between his duty and his values.

“Look, Arthur, it's fine. You can tell me.”, The humble Father said with a smile.

“Fine… You will need to be a slave again.”

What?

“B-But not because we are going to sell you! I assure!”, He spoke so fast as to not get misinterpreted, “It's because, if you fight in the Arena and get invited to the Colosseum-”

“We can get the Pecunious necessary for our preparations.”, Donovan cut in, already understanding the situation.

It wasn't insulting in any way, just sudden and with lots of costs if he failed. Then again, he is one of the few slaves that were rescued and freed and the only one who got so far in the Arena. He's the perfect candidate for the job and not only the Pope knew it, but Donovan too.

“Are you going to accept it?”

“Of course I am.”, His voice was full of determination, “If I need to do this to save these folk, I am.”

A slight yellow aura could be seen in Donovan's torso, proof of his faith and devotion.

“I can talk to them, see if you can be replaced.”, Arthur offered.

“No. I will do it. But I need to get in shape for it.”

“That… That I can easily do.”

----------------------------------------

Weeks later, Local Pit Fight, Empire of White Shell.

Donovan, visually speaking, is a decently built man, not so muscular but also not so fat, a simple mixture of both. Of course, his training and preparations did increase his muscle mass but not to a large extent, making him be frequently mistaken as just a “fatty blob of shit”, according to the other attendants of the Arena. His skin is of fair complexity, Caucasian in nature and with short hair, who could grow now thanks to his current “hard laborer” situation. When he performed his religious duties, it was mandatory to periodically shave his head and face to be easily recognizable. His previous garments were a simple brown robe made of leather and cotton to protect him from the cold weather. His hazel eyes have a sharpness and fierceness that few could match, and, to top it all, his back had a tattoo of a rune of his Goddess, which looked more of a magical circle than a rune itself.

Now, he doesn't wear a shirt and only uses sandals and pants that have seen better days. Not lying to himself, he thought that as a respectable member of the church to be lowered enough to use these… rags… was humiliating… to an extent. Looking at the bigger picture, of course a slave, even one of royal families, wouldn't be allowed to use anything aside from these clothes. Donovan doesn't miss the segregation that slaves suffer, but he is going to endure it for the sake of his people.

“Donovan.”, A commanding voice made itself known.

“Archbishop Manfred.”, The slave recognized who spoke.

“Arthur has already disguised himself as your owner. Follow his instructions to the letter and we will achieve success.”, Manfred, who was also disguised as a salesman, reminded Donovan what he is here for.

“Of course, Your Holiness.”, He nodded to the Man.

Archbishop Manfred is a staunch traditionalist believer, deeply rooted in the old ways of faith. Clinging to orthodox beliefs, he vehemently opposed any notion of progress, despite Askar being forced to do so, viewing it as a threat to the established order. He often spoke with conviction against the winds of change, advocating for the preservation of ancient traditions and resisting the evolving currents of societal transformation. He represented the advocation of the Old Belief, rituals being used as religious proof of one's conviction rather than the teachings one might possess. Thanks to his age, Manfred is seen as wise and cultured, however he is highly racist and refuses to acknowledge other religions that aren't his own, which contradicts the image others have of him.

“This is ridiculous. We shouldn't have accepted that offer. What was the Pope thinking?!”, Manfred scoffed, still not over the fact that the Pope accepted the deal.

Orïvah Weerling would have protected them, he's sure of it.

“I agree, but we can't dwell on what happened. The future will come and we have to prepare for the worst.”, Donovan's voice had a harsh and direct tone, one of a person who made a decision they can't go back to.

“I am aware. However this doesn't make it better.”, He sighed.

Arthur appeared on the door frame, “Oh, sorry to interrupt. Your fight is the next one.”

“On it.”

As he walked on the hallways, Manfred followed. The corridor was gray, a lifeless color that would only be changed by death or something close to it, as blood stains could be spotted every few steps he took. Donovan remembers the time when he got excited as the anticipation to the fight built up inside of him, a time of an arrogant, preposterous and insufferable man. In retrospect, he is somewhat glad that this is his past, one he can feel ashamed of, showing that he truly got better as a person. Mistakes are remembered not as failures in his mind, but as experiences, ones that he values deep within himself.

The end of the hallway opened, so Arthur and Manfred shared their temporary good-byes as Donovan prepared for his first comeback fight. Clenching his fist, he gave slight tap punches to the wall.

“For Askar. Nothing else.”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE HAVE ONE HELL OF A FIGHT TONIGHT!”, The announcer vehemently declared.

Donovan spared a glance at the “arena”. It is a simple pit-fight ring in the middle of a bar with the spectators circling the money, betting on who might win, how they will win, etcetera. The bar is built primarily in wood and marble, trying its best to appear classy and expensive, but he knew this strategy wasn't working. The waiters and baristas are getting harassed, or in some cases very into it, dragging some fellow drunkards to the backstage, something Donovan disapproved of, but couldn't intervene. The ring itself has stone for ground and metal cords for ropes, an unsettling prospect, if anything. Looking at his opponent, Donovan couldn't say for certain what he'd do. He has no clue as to what fighting style his opponent has, no clue how many fights he partook in and no clue of the rules this place has. But if his previous experience is telling him anything is that the only rule here is to not kill your adversary.

Easily achievable, thankfully enough.

“From the blue corner, we have the challenger, the visitor of a far away land, The slave from Askar, The Pious Believer: Donovan Rick!”, The announcer calmly and firmly presented the away fighter.

“A religious slave?”

“Is this a joke?”

“What will he do? Pray until his death?”

Of course they'd react like this. White Shell is an empire, but its political system is a Meritocracy. Their territory is neighboring Askar, but they managed to expand southbound, securing their position as one of the safest places to exist. They have rivers, flatlands, average weather, decent natural resources… Everything anyone could ask for. That's why they decided to use Meritocracy, so only those who have properly contributed to their society in grand ways, could use the majority of the resources as they see fit. Donovan thought that the only Nation that could have a better position in the Petruvian Continent is Granits, as they were the first to colonize these lands on the other side of the Ocean.

Regardless, time to focus on the present.

“And now, fighting on the red corner, The man who broke the bones of his opponent last fight, the man who doesn't know when to stop, the home fighter and currently UNDEFEATED… Adrian BROOKS!”

“Undefeated, huh?”, Donovan ponders.

“Yeah! Kick his ass!”

“Take this zealous cunt to the grave!”

“Break his ribs! I've bet on that!”

Adrian ignored the cries of the people, focusing solely on Donovan.

“All right. Fight!”

Adrian and Donovan step into the gritty pit, surrounded by the pulsating roar of the crowd. The air is charged with anticipation as the pit fighter and wrestler lock eyes, each sizing up the other. Adrian, agile and quick, dances around Donovan, probing for an opening. Donovan curled a brow at that, confused as to why he'd do such a strategy. Then again, Adrian doesn't know he is a Wrestler. Wth a solid wrestling stance, Donovan moves forward with calculated steps. Adrian lunges with a series of rapid strikes, but Donovan, using his bigger physique and advanced prowess, deflects the blows and counters with a powerful takedown attempt.

*BAM*

The pit echoes with the thud of bodies hitting the ground making some people wince, seeing as Adrian took quite a bit of damage. However he swiftly maneuvers, avoiding another of Donovan's grasp. On his feet again, Adrian tries a flurry of punches, showcasing his skill in hand-to-hand combat. Donovan, however, weathers the storm, using his defensive strategy to resist the onslaught. He could feel Brooks getting frustrated as every attack got blocked, but for Donovan, this is a game of patience and opportunity. If it was his past self, he'd probably try to counter with a takedown by now. He manages to dodge and weave Adrian's punches, accidentally but also coincidentally leaving the corner of the ring. The crowd roars with every exchanged blow, appreciating the clash of different fighting styles.

In a surprising turn, Adrian manages to land a solid punch to Donovan's head as he tries to take a punch himself, staggering the wrestler. Seizing the opportunity, Adrian follows up with a barrage of punches, forcing Donovan to retreat to the other side of the ring, putting as much pressure as he possibly could. The Zealous Wrestler had to admit that despite him not feeling pressured at all, he needed to recognize the man's determination. Adrian was not pulling his punches and was trying different strategies as the fight progressed, much to the crowd's delight.

The fight reaches its climax as Adrian, determined to secure victory, throws a powerful spinning kick. However, Donovan, displaying his wrestling tenacity and superior experience, catches Adrian mid-kick and delivers a thunderous slam to the pit floor. It's not every day you see a man be lifted so high and so powerfully slammed on the ground. Of course Donovan threw him in a way that he wouldn't die or have long lasting injuries, but aside from the Askar citizens, no one could really tell. The crowd fell silent as the impact came to a deafening silence through the arena.

“It's… It's over! Donovan Rick wins with a stellar slam tonight!”

Donovan is declared the winner by knockout, and the crowd erupts in cheers, acknowledging the skill and resilience of both fighters in the thrilling battle. Some of them are not as happy, since they lost money, but that's not his problem.

----------------------------------------

Haballari Kingdom, Capitol Arena, Donovan's 4th fight, one week ago.

Donovan is looking at himself in the mirror of his current cell holding. As of now, he won all of his fights by knockout in the first few minutes of the bout, thus making him a very profitable and valuable fighter. The Haballari Kingdom is one of those that can provide an invitation to Koloss, the second best Arena outside of the Colosseum, where only the absolute best can compete. Of course, Donovan took the longer path. Those who were near Granits had an easier time being invited to the Colosseum, much thanks to Eldora and their top-notch Foreman of Aurumbras County. He envies those slightly privileged slaves that had filthy rich owners.

Well, it is what it is, he guessed as much.

Being honest with himself, he didn't even bother to remember his opponent's name, completely blinded by who he'd face in Koloss’s Arena. Out of all the options, he summarized them in two, either being a fighter that climbed the ranks, making it the toughest fight to date or a sponsored fighter, that could go any way, but most likely the fighter would be a milksop who has little to no experience. But regardless of which one was true, he won't have any information on his next fight, while his opponent might have some minor idea at how his style goes. Ergo, preparing to counter his Wrestling, if his mind is correct and it usually is.

“Donovan.”, Arthur made himself known, “The fight is about to begin.”

Donovan sighed, “Let's go then.”

“Before you go, I have something to tell you.”, He put his hand on Donovan's way to make him stop, “Cardinal John The Second is here to witness the fight.”

“A Cardinal? Here of all places?”, That just didn't sound right to Donovan, and for a great reason.

They rarely left Askar unless there was political interest involved. Cardinals, as the so-called “high-ranking clergy" in the medieval era, might attend events like tournaments for various reasons. They could be present to represent the Church, engage in diplomatic or political discussions, or simply to enjoy spectacles. The reasons varied, but it wasn't uncommon for clergy to be involved in or observe such events for a range of purposes. However the Cardinals believed that they were far above these roles and often preferred to perform the ritualistic side of the religion. If said kingdom they visited was against their religion and/or was too far away? In such a scenario, a Cardinal might travel to a distant kingdom with a different religious belief for diplomatic or political reasons. They could aim to foster relations, negotiate alliances, or address religious matters…

However, this specific fight? That bugged Donovan's mind.

“He is disguised, of course. As for the reason, honestly, your guess is as good as mine.”, He shrugged, “All I know is that he will be with us in Koloss too, maybe even in the Colosseum.”

Donovan knew that Arthur wasn't someone to just tell these kinds of jokes or stories out of the blue without a good reason. Maybe the higher-ups are checking his progress? Likely, but aren't the reports they've written good enough?

“I think it's better if I go to the arena.”

“Yes. Let's go.”

----------------------------------------

“Very well! Fight!”

As the dust was lifted from the arena’s ground, the air crackled with the dash of both contenders, as Donovan, who was starting to get nicknamed as "Iron Titan," squared off against his agile opponent, unceremoniously and nonchalantly named by the Wrestler as “The Striker”. The crowd roared excited as the announcer started the fight, signaling the initial clash between strength and speed. The Iron Titan lunged forward, attempting a powerful takedown, but Striker quickly sidestepped, predicting this opening attack, exploiting the wrestler's reliance on Wrestling. Swiftly, the fighter retaliated with a single body blow, the strike finding its mark on Donovan's vulnerable midsection.

That sparked some amount of surprise. In an instant, Donovan's unbothered stance crumbled as the adversary's strike landed with a force beyond his anticipation. The air seemed to constrict around him, and his eyes widened in disbelief. His muscles, once poised, now strained against the unexpected impact, leaving him breathless. As the shock set in, a mix of surprise and realization painted his face, revealing vulnerability in the face of an unforeseen strength. And his opponent saw that face, following up with a barrage of punches so fast that Donovan needed to do a full guard to protect himself. It has been a long while since his trustworthy Wrestling didn't work as he previously intended.

Despite the relentless assault, Iron Titan demonstrated his resilience, using his brute force to grapple Striker into a bone-crushing hold. The crowd gasped as the fighter struggled against the wrestler's immense strength. Just when it seemed like Donovan had gained control, Striker executed a nimble escape, slipping away and attacking the same place as before with a piercing body blow. Amazing! Just when Donovan thought he had regained control, another blow, more powerful than the last, shattered his momentary triumph. The shock echoed in his eyes, mirroring the unexpected assault. The rhythm of the fight disrupted, he grappled with the resurgence of vulnerability, a reminder that the battle's dynamics were far from his initial predictions.

The bout continued with a dance of evasion and constant attacks from both sides. Striker weaved through The Iron Titan's attacks, landing precise strikes on the wrestler. Seeing as the fight was tending to favor his opponent, Donovan stepped back, resorting to punching and kicking. He was effectively forced to change his fighting style mid-fight, which he was not comfortable doing. However, every now and then, he'd manage to execute some quick takedowns, be it a small trip of a single-leg takedown. The ground and pound was executed perfectly with powerful slams and elbows that echoed through the arena.

As the fight progressed, both competitors bore the marks of their intense battle. Donovan's torso showed some small signs of wear, bruised and battered from the previous attacks. Meanwhile, Striker's speed began to wane, a testament to the toll of grappling with the “Iron Titan”, as well as the time they spent in this fight, a fight of attrition and stamina. In the final moments, with the crowd on the edge of their seats, he summoned his remaining strength, ignoring the pain in his torso, he hoisted Striker into the air for a colossal finishing move. The arena erupted in cheers as Donovan secured a hard-fought victory, his resilience prevailing over the prowess of Striker.

Donovan's Cell, a few minutes later

“My Goddess, what a mess…”, The Wrestler said to no one in particular.

“Indeed. This fight was tough, but you did good.”, Arthur gave a big thumbs up.

“Good? Bah! You got punched a lot on the belly. How can a Wrestler, someone that uses the entire body, have such a weakness?”, Manfred didn't share the same enthusiasm. For him, the fact that Donovan had to try didn't do the best of sounds.

“Archbishop, remember that Donovan is the only person here fighting. I help with his training, but I wonder what you did while watching us.”, Arthur, very politely, aggressively-passive asked Manfred.

Sure, he is of higher rank. But to say a lot without being useful? That, Arthur can't accept.

“How dare—?!”

“Enough.”

The Cardinal came through the door frame, and despite being technically disguised, he still had a royal and pure presence that couldn't be subdued. As soon as the trio landed their eyes on him, they immediately shut up, if for respect or fear, that's not a concern of the Cardinal.

“Uhm… Mister… Sir…”, Manfred tried to address the man without being disrespectful.

“Just call me John.”, His voice was rough, dry and direct.

In Donovan's mind, it exudes “I'm too old for this” kind of energy.

“Yes… John…”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I believe you are the one called Donovan?”

“Yes.”, The slave got up.

“I've seen how you fight. If you want to prepare appropriately for Koloss, I can offer help.”, He extended his arm.

His hand had an old skin, calloused from years of hard work. His voice in the offer wasn't one of kindness, but one of repulsiveness, being insulted by how much of a poor performance Donovan did in this fight. Basically, an offer that if he refused, could jeopardize his relationships inside of Askar. No one pisses off a Cardinal without consequences.

“A slave should not touch someone of your position or status, Mr. John. However I do accept your offer, if Master Arthur authorizes.”, He answered as politely as possible, giving a resigned nod with closed eyes.

“Fine by me.”, Despite being calm, Arthur was panicking inside.

----------------------------------------

Training Grounds, Koloss, Present Day

Connor and Yuri traded blows, with the former maintaining a safe distance from punches, but being close enough as to prevent takedowns. Yuri, despite being shorter, kept pushing and putting pressure on his student, applying textbook attacks with increasing speed. Connor managed to dodge the first Jab by bending his neck sideways, the follow up straight by leaning backwards and the final hook with a spinning side step. Yuri wasn't quite finished as he dashed towards Connor, always at striking distance, continuously punching the living shit of Connor's guard. The progress in the defensive side was stupidly fast, being quite absurd sometimes. Connor learned about true and false distance management. True Distance is basically the reach of one's attacks, keeping the right amount to safely and effectively punch and not be punched.

However the latter was what Yuri wasn't even thinking of teaching to Connor.

False distance management is the technique that involves deceiving the opponent about the actual distance. By feinting, changing levels, or using other tactics to create openings or reactions, Connor managed to use false distance management to set up traps, create angles, or lure Yuri into committing to a particular move or counter, allowing him to capitalize on the mistakes. Sometimes the simple act of leaning forward for a while made Yuri commit to a cross only for Connor to resume his initial posture and counter-punch with a hook of his own. The coach was forced to pay attention to his feet rather than his posture so as to not fall for these traps.

But of course, all this defensive strategy was all good for stand up fighting, but what about tackles and takedowns? Connor hadn't delved into wrestling techniques yet, but his focus on defensive strategy allowed him to anticipate Yuri's attempts. As Yuri lunged forward for a takedown, Connor smoothly sidestepped, utilizing his newfound understanding of false distance management to evade Yuri's grasp. Despite not formally learning wrestling, Connor's ability to defend against it was becoming increasingly impressive. His movements were fluid, almost instinctual, as he danced around Yuri's attempts to take him down. With each feint and subtle shift in position, Connor managed to keep himself out of Yuri's reach, frustrating his coach's every effort. Even without formal wrestling training, Connor's defensive instincts and understanding of distance management served him well, allowing him to stay one step ahead of Yuri's aggressive assaults. As the training session continued, Connor's confidence in his ability to defend against tackles and takedowns grew, proving that sometimes, the best defense is a keen understanding of your opponent's intentions.

And that's when it clicked.

In Connor's case, his realization that the fundamentals of wrestling could inform his defensive strategy against it was a breakthrough moment. It highlighted the interconnectedness of martial arts and the importance of studying various styles to become a well-rounded fighter. With this insight, Connor could continue to refine his defensive techniques and better prepare himself for any situation in the Arena. But this isn't just applicable to fighting. Connor's mind started to sabotage itself, thinking of the many opportunities he had to study, work and meet people, creating, hopefully, long lasting friendships. But this past life was over. He met new people that, even though not as friendly and being very weird sometimes, they have a common goal, comrades in their secret plan of escapade. And he wouldn't change this for nothing.

*WHOOSH*

Connor swayed from a powerful uppercut of Yuri. The coach could only feel pride and annoyance as he saw Connor's smiling face. Not one of bravado, which was kind of disturbing, but one of… fun?

“Someone looks happy.”, Yuri said as he stopped the training.

“I am?” Connor asked, only now realizing the big smile on his face, “Shit, I am.”

“Did you just notice that now? Gotta admit, sometimes you're the quirkiest dude around. But hey, if you're enjoying the training, that's awesome. I reckon you're all set for the fight next week.”, Sometimes, Yuri envied his student’s attitude.

Keyword: Sometimes.

“Really? I think I could use more than this.”

“You gotta rest, man.”, He said as he picked up a water canteen, “You still have to work as a slave, right? That's our rest week.”

As Connor grabbed the canteen offered by Yuri, his happy face turned angry, realizing that yeah, he still is a slave, “How a week's worth of work is considered resting?”

“Don't ask me.”

“Hey.”, Zagul arrived with some papers. He looked troubled and amused.

“What's up, Henry?”

“Since I couldn't train with you, Connor, I took the freedom to do some research on that Donovan guy.”, He dropped the papers on the nearby table.

That made the two of them curious.

“How did ya get this stuff?”

“Unlike you, Yuri, who got here two years ago and got popular thanks to your fighting abilities, I have been here for almost eleven years. I know how to get information without spending the “favors” you get on the matches.”, Zagul was very smug about this fact for some reason.

With the most plain confused face, Connor asked, “Ok, but how did you get it?”

“Wanting or not, the Foreman have scouts all around The Petruvian Continent, always searching for new fighters with great potential. They have file reports,” he pointed at the papers, “that register each slave they think it's worth evaluating. Be it new, old, male, female… You know how it goes.”

Yuri grabs the papers and gives a glance, “Wow, these papers are super detailed and fresh off the press! Did you snag these from someone's desk or what's the story behind getting your hands on them?”

“The walls have ears. The more you search, the more you find something certain people don't want to be found out.”

“You blackmailed the scouts?”, Connor asked.

The Lacerta and the aborigine look at each other slightly impressed.

“I feel like they think I'm stupid.”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Guess what? Donovan's debut fight was slick. He totally nailed it with a power slam after some precise defense against an undefeated opponent. Total champ move…”, despite the informality, Yuri seemed very analytical.

“He did it while out of shape and relying solely on Wrestling. Even so, the fight took just a few minutes.”, Zagul also seemed troubled.

“Glad we took part in that already.”, Connor sighed.

Taking another file report, Yuri read its contents, “His second bout was kinda like the first, but this time Donovan mixed it up with some punches too. He took a few hits himself, but in the end, his opponent definitely got the worse end of the deal.”

“Way to go, Donovan.”, Henry sarcastically commented.

With another file report, the human started to sweat a little, “Man, the third fight was a real nail-biter, but it was over in a flash. Both dudes were wrestlers, but Donovan, after getting back into shape and adjusting to the pit fighting scene, totally dominated with another killer slam. But hey, I gotta admit, I'm starting to get a bit worried about all this.”

“Not just you. The guy won all of his fights with quick thinking and adaptability. Maybe our training regime wasn't as effective as we thought.”, The Lacerta seemed angry, even though it wasn't him who was going to fight.

And Connor noticed that.

“What about the last one?”, Connor pointed at the lone paper, “Some glimpse of hope?”

He had to admit that doing all this study and preparation was weird. He didn't do the theoretical part of training, but this, despite being concerning, is quite cool. Anticipating your opponents strategies, tendencies and all? It's too fun to be concerning.

…Fun?

“Let me see.”, He grabbed the paper, “Dude, the fourth fight was a total disaster. The other guy was lightning fast, totally shutting down Donovan's wrestling moves. He was like a mind reader, dodging every takedown attempt and landing hits on Donovan's body left and right. Poor Donovan had to keep his guard up high just to stay in the game, but he was taking a beating, especially in the gut. But guess what? Despite all that, he pulled off another power slam to snag the win.”

“Does this guy never stop with wrestling?”, Connor exasperated.

“No. But we know that he is reliant on it and that his guard isn't up all the time.”, Henry said.

“And that he has a weak body.”, Yuri completed.

The trio “hmmm’d” in unison.

“That's all I have on him. The rest is up to you, Connor.”

“Cool. By the way, can I ask you something weird?”

Henry raised a brow, but nodded anyway, “Sure.”

“When we fought, why did you say your kind to me a bunch of times?”

The lizard thought about it for a second, but Yuri explained faster, “He was talking about your species.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I was being racist. Sorta.”, Zagul shrugged.

Connor paled at such declaration, “Pardon?”

“Man… how do I explain this…”, He grimaced, but managed to find the courage, “Man, those Wood Elves were straight-up savages! They were like war-crazed barbarians, always on the hunt for a fight. They didn't just attack randomly though, oh no. They'd study their prey's culture and society, pinpointing the most sacred spots to hit first because they knew it would sting the most. And get this, they weren't even in it for the conquest half the time. Nah, they'd just wreck stuff for fun, leaving destruction in their wake. Poor Henry got caught up in all that madness, just another victim of those ruthless Wood Elves.”

“When Yuri told me you were nurtured by humans I almost didn't believe it. But the time we've spent tolerating each other made me realize some things.”

“Such as…?”

“You are too dumb to do these things for yourself.”

A nerve popped up in Connor's forehead, but he was right. No way Connor would do all of this by himself. It took another life in another world and another betrayal for him to consider this approach.

“ANYWAY!!! THAT, is not something you can state so openly!”

“On a serious note, now that I answered your question…”

Connor's rage was subdued for now, “H-huh?”

“Why do you have scales on your body?”, He pointed at Connor in general.

“I didn't ask myself because I thought it could be a sensitive thing, but I want to get the gist of it too.”, Yuri shared the doubt.

“That… is a very good question…”, The elf looked at the scales in his skin.

“Aren't like mine, but they are indeed scales.”, Zagul comments, “So smooth too. Only if someone looks with attention they will notice it.”

“Connor, can I touch it?”, Said the aborigine while touching.

“Woah woah woah, no thank you.”, Connor immediately set a barrier with his arms.

Zagul could swear that his soul was about to leave his body.

“Rude.”

“Fuck you, Yuri.”

“Anyway, I'll be doing my work. We'll see each other in the Arena?”, Henry inquired tiredly.

“Fine by me. Gotta do some gigs of my own too.”, Yuri saw as the Lacerta waved goodbye.

“That means I will be resting until the fight?”

“If resting means working on building houses, yes.”

“Fan-Fucking-tastic.”

----------------------------------------

The Arena, One week later

The past week was fairly good, comparing it with all of the 3 months Connor spent here and the overall half a year he spent on this new world. The keepers knew he was going to fight, if for kindness or expectancy, allowed the Wood Elf to do not so demanding jobs, mainly paperwork. The Erudite Sense did his job at translating the languages he never heard in his life, as well as giving small hints as to what he was supposed to do. All in all, it went on smoothly.

But it was so boring.

Comparing the training Connor did in the camp, anything would be a letdown, but this thing specifically made him boil with boredom and rage. Seriously, he is a man of action, those guys who work on getting things done, not studying so they can “theoretically” fix something. As he trudged through the paperwork (and by the way, he couldn't refuse the work thanks to the rune in his neck) his mind constantly wandered to the thrilling battles and adrenaline-fueled training sessions, sparking ideas of what theatxh had in store for him, planning on what he could do or prevent in it. Each stroke of the quill felt like another inch dragging him away from his true purpose. With the Erudite Sense's guidance, while helpful, only served to highlight the stark contrast between his current mundane tasks and the feats he longed to accomplish. With each passing day, the fire of determination within him burned brighter, yearning for the fight that slowly, yet progressively approached.

You might have guessed how he reacted when he finally could go to the Arena.

On the other side of the ring however, Donovan Rick prayed to his Goddess, seeking enlightenment, wisdom and safety. The folk on the outskirts, while not knowing his sacrifice, his trials and challenges, would certainly be safer once his task is fulfilled. In his cell room, he warmed up before walking the hallway that led to the Arena, pondering who his opponent might be. As he made his way down the dimly lit hallway toward the Arena, Donovan's heart pounded with anticipation. The echoing footsteps of his barefoot legs served as a steady rhythm to his thoughts, each step bringing him closer to the inevitable clash that awaited him. Despite the uncertainty of his opponent, Donovan remained steadfast in his purpose, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead in the name of faith and protection.

“Orïvah Weerling, please assist me in these trying times.”

The light of the sky and its golden bright sun shone the entire building as well as reserving a beautiful and poetic luminosity to the ring. The crowd cheered seeing the first contender coming out of the backrooms and chanted a small encouraging song to the Iron Titan. The man who rose rapidly to the top and was going to get an invitation to the Colosseum. This gesture, although insignificant in the great scope of things, reminded the Human Believer that all of his efforts have a purpose, one that solely depends on his performance. The training he did thanks to Cardinal John mustn't be wasted. Not only was it offered without any sort of payment, but thy holiness reserved fighters to constantly help him develop the necessary skills and reduce Donovan's weakness as best as they could.

As he stepped in the ring, he looked at the stands, spotting the crew of religious members. Before he could do anything, his opponent appeared and the crowd made itself known by chanting a mix of encouragement and racism. Donovan did a double take to make sure he wasn't wrong when seeing, but there was no mistake as the Wood Elf enthusiastically walked towards the ring. He looked fired up, ready to take the world if Donovan could tell. Despite the elf being taller than him, he doubted that this would be an advantage for his opponent, since he himself has an ace in his sleeve.

As both fighters finished their preparations, the announcer cleared his throat, “Ladies and Gentlemen! We got ourselves a big event today here in Koloss! As you see, this is THE, MAIN, FIGHT, of the day!”

The crowd reacted very well to the introduction, screaming who would potentially win the bout.

“Introducing first, on the away corner, we have the Zealous Fighter, The Irony Titan, the man who fought four times and walked away intact in all of them… Donovan RICK!!!”

It wasn't that accurate of a presentation, but no matter. Now it's the introduction of the Elf, a good moment to have some minor information about him. Any info is better than nothing.

“And now, introducing the home corner, we have our biggy surprise of Koloss coming all the way from Eldora, the few of his kind and the only fighter in the world to use…”, The announcer paused for almost a full second, “Boxing? Well, the second fight of his career, Connor Ashman!”

Wait, what? Donovan is going to fight a guy in his second ever fight? Is this some kind of joke? Doesn't matter, because in the end, what matters is the invitation. The prize is guaranteed to be it, so the only concern in his mind is to win and win well. Then again, if this guy is inexperienced as he thinks, this should be an easy victory. The Goddess surely works in mysterious ways…

“Very well, now… fight!”

----------------------------------------

Connor lunged forward, gritting and dashing at a considerable pace, unleashing a barrage of punches that, to Donovan's credit, didn't hit him not to a significant level, but still managed to overwhelm him. As the Elf assumed his textbook ever-trustworthy Orthodox Stance, the human remained with his hands low in his natural Wrestling stance. Despite the clear disadvantage of not having a high guard, the Irony Titan managed to dodge and sometimes block the oncoming blows, effectively attracting the crowd's attention, giving them quite a show of skill and purpose.

With a quick one-two, Connor waited patiently to the takedown that eventually would come up. His opponent, despite not retaliating as much as he was supposed to, never made a face that showed concern or hesitation. The exchange, however intense or fast it seemed to be, was nothing short of a warm-up to these fighters. The bait seemed to be working, as Connor used his longer reach with his attacks, Donovan shined more interest in his legs rather than anything else.

Ducking one of Connor's hooks, the wrestler attempted to grab one of the elf's legs, only for said elf to push away the human denying him of such possibility. Donovan grunted in annoyance, clearly not satisfied with the failed attack. Without missing his rhythm, Connor continued to attack from a safe distance, continuously punching the soft guard the so-called “Iron Titan” was using. At some point, he started to only use his left hand, jabbing more than anything. This not only left Donovan confused but also the people in the stands.

“What are you doing?”

“You plan on using only your left?!”

“Go on and kick his ass!”

Truly, amateurs. Jabs are not only used to measure distance or as a quick attack from your lead hand. Wanting to believe or not, without the use of proper gloves, this small tactic can work wonders if used properly. Thanks to both Henry and Yuri, practicing this small yet powerful attack they managed to use a very simple thing to do a devastating amount of damage. At some point in the “jab jab” moment of the fight, Connor decided to leave his arm outstretched. Donovan's eye twitched at the bold move, but that's exactly what Connor wanted.

Returning with the usual Orthodox Guard, Donovan assumed (hopefully) that this was just a calculation of distance. At the same time the arm returned, he advanced with a tackle of his own. Only to be interrupted by a jab. He saw it, but the momentum of his dash wouldn't allow him to stop fully. Maybe reduce damage? Hopefully, but what follow up might-

*touch*

“What?”

The jab was so weak that it felt more like someone put a hand on his face rather than punching him. As if poetic irony, the fist morphed to a open hand-

*KRUNT*

“A POWERFUL ATTACK FROM THE ELF! THE RIGHT HAND WAS BEING PREPARED THIS ENTIRE TIME!”, As always, the announcer took the opportunity to fire up the crowd.

And if the cheers, chants and energetic screaming are any indication, he did a good job.

----------------------------------------

Yuri's seat, Koloss Arena

“Damn, that Donovan guy is jacked.”, Zagul commented offhandedly.

“He sure is. He got the weave game too by the looks of it.”, Yuri carefully analyzed the fight as it got on.

The way Donovan dodged Connor's attacks without being too concerned with the pressure didn't bode well with him, but he felt some relief when the takedown was blocked.

“Training is paying well.”, The lizard assured, “Glad you could mimic some attacks from his repertoire.”

Yuri hummed affirmatively, “Still, I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You think the acolyte is hiding something?”

“Not sure.”

They pay attention to the fight, seeing how Connor decided to jab for the past few seconds. This, at least for Yuri, was a set up, a preparation to a bigger punch developed by the two of them. Whatever attack he was gonna land, that was a mystery for him, since Connor would use a different punch every time.

Their faces paled when Connor was about to be taken down after just leaving his arm stretched, but thankfully, he managed to jab the face of Donovan before he could grab him. Then the punch became a palm, blocking all the vision Donovan needed to spot the right arm's veins popping out with the amount of strength it had, hitting the face of the human believer full force, and none the wiser.

“Holy shit!”, The surprised expression of the Lacerta was palpable.

“Way to go, Connor!”, Yuri enthusiastically cheered for his student.

----------------------------------------

Connor didn't waste any time, using his pivot leg to step in and revisit his old style of boxing, in-fight. A left hook met the cheeks of his opponent followed by a right uppercut, spinning and momentarily changing stances to the Southpaw, using his left to deliver the best Left Straight he punched in his entire two lives. The whiplash of the attack was so big, Donovan's neck jumped backwards, but through sheer mental strength, he refused to allow his body to fall on the ground.

“Good start, me.”, Some self praise was needed. It's been a long while since Connor dominated a fight, specifically this early.

Be it as it may, the next thing that happened completely changed how anyone would think the fight would progress. And such a simple action too. As Donovan recovered from the damage he took, he decided to…

…Raise his guard.

Not even a proper guard, but this action, putting a hand in front and one closer to his ribs, that action alone made Connor's eyes widen in shock. He didn't advance or retreat, but looked Connor square in the eyes, daring the Elf to attack, and he obliged. With a series of fast compact punches, the guard that Donovan was showing not only managed to block, but as soon as Connor would hit and try to throw another punch, the lead hand of his opponent would extend with dangerous fast speed, which forced him to either step back or block.

Distance management wasn't working as intended too. Leaning forward or backwards was not bearing results, as Donovan would simply circle around or also lean in a direction, making it difficult to counter punch. When both fighters were attacking was when the match really started to ramp up, with the gusts of wind being evidence of the velocity and ferocious strength that each attack had. Despite being shorter, Donovan didn't back down, dashing with such vigor and determination that some people couldn't help but find it noble. As for Connor, he has improved in his out-boxing, but this was not the style he fought for most of his life, being rough and unpolished around the edges, this served a great dose of headaches at each failed attack or misplaced defense.

The point is that Connor, despite all the training he did, was not fighting optimally. If he wants to make some amount of progress he will need to fight in close distance. Donovan used his left to attack the elf's torso, but only managed to hit his arm, the defensive play being the most notable thing about him today. The Iron Titan expected a back step, preparing to advance and follow up with a tackle, only to be met with an even shorter distance. If he tried to hide his surprise, he failed, but he did react to this too, throwing a big right straight at the same time as Connor throwed a hook. Blow for Blow, both attacks connected, sending the respective fighters back with the impact.

“What a turn in this fight, they aren't hiding anything today! No one is going to play defense here! The fighters size up each other as they prepare their next moves!”

As if on cue, both Elf and Human punch at the same time, one hitting the face of the other. Blows continued to flow as the stands gasped by the sheer brutality and power each attack had. If through luck, skill or mistake, the attacks were dodged, blocked or missed. A jab was blocked, a hook was weaved and a feint was done, but no progress on each side was made. Donovan's attacks were fast just as was Connor's ability to avoid them, but the strength Connor had in his punches didn't manage to break Donovan's guard, at least not with only his arm's strength. The only way to make, or rather, force an opening was to attack at the same time as the other started his.

Connor had a plan in his mind, he needed to lure the attention of Donovan's guard up, give a big uppercut and land the best body blow of his life. No pressure if you don't count the amazing plays the human was doing, disregarding his defense to inflict some amount of damage to him. Granted that it is working, some attacks did land, but so did Connor's. His mind raced with ideas, even dumb ones, as he observed Donovan's movements, searching for a flaw.

As they circled each other, Connor noticed a subtle shift in Donovan's stance, a split-second hesitation before he threw a punch. It was a small detail, one that didn't really tell much about what he might do, but Connor noticed upon it, recognizing it as a potential window to exploit. Feinting a jab, Connor drew Donovan's attention upward, just as he had planned. Immediately shifting his weight, he used his right and his both legs to increase the power behind the uppercut, not only breaking his defense but also sending his arms flying around the air. Stomping his feet, he dashed forward, closing the gap rapidly as his left fist approached its target.

*BHUUMP*

A successful hit. Connor's plan had been perfectly executed, something that didn't happen so often, if it ever happened at all. This was his weak spot, the place where that other fighter capitalized before. So even if this doesn't knock him out, it will surely wind him up, right?

Right?

Then… why is he still on his feet?

*BAMP*

“MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS! Even with the guard break and the powerful punch, it looks like The Iron Titan is not fazed AT ALL by it!”

----------------------------------------

Donovan looked at the punch landing on his chest. He remembered how displeased Cardinal John was when he found out about his lack of resistance and hand-to-hand experience without grappling. His training this past week consisted in fighting with the few soldiers of Askar until his body collapsed, being healed by the blessings and miracles of the church and training a very simple yet difficult technique that would give him an edge in this fight. The fact that he was still being forced to fight seriously didn't sound promising at all and he could only imagine what Archbishop Manfred and Cardinal John would be thinking at that time.

His interpretation of this Connor guy changed too. Despite being sponsored he was no slouchy beanie baby and was an actual fighter, someone willing to put his body on the line if it meant to have some chance of winning. A proper man, if he could say so. Sure, Connor gained his respect, but he still has a job to do, people to save, mouths to feed. He can't be so complacent as to feel sorry for his opponent, so he didn't and advanced with the intention of finishing this as soon as possible. Can't waste time here.

The guy was still in awe at the lack of reaction Donovan showed. If he was just going to stare, then…

*POOF*

A body blow of his own made the Elf wince and bend over, clearly not expecting the attack. With the same hand as before, a straight was delivered to the face, the same whiplash of before, now on his opponent. Donovan got going with hesitation, successfully grappling Connor, lifting him as high as he could and slamming him on the ground. Donovan didn't care for safety this time, Connor's neck hitting the dirt in a big and dry thud, but even so his eyes are still alive. Very well, time to use the true power of Wrestling. Donovan mounted the elf and immediately started punching.

Unbeknownst to him, he was doing Ground and Pound, which didn't have a name in this world, but Connor was familiar with it. As the punches came, so did the Wood elf's legs, locking him in place and not allowing the Titan to get up to throw proper attacks, and even the ones he could do were either blocked or dodged. Dodged? This bugged Donovan's mind since his opponent had his back on the ground and he still managed to hinder his efforts, denying a decisive victory. Donovan decided the best approach was to fight on his feet for now, but as soon as he tried to leave, the elf held him tight on the ground. What for? Maybe to avoid damage so he could recover? That's a possibility, but he needs to get on his feet.

This time however it was stupidly easy to leave, and Donovan soon found out why. The elf's feet kicked him in the mouth so hard that he didn't even need to use his legs to get up, but he did need to use them to not fall on the ground. When he got himself together, Connor was already preparing to advance full force.

“Fine. If I can't take you down like this…”

A jab stopped the Elf, but the jab was different, faster than before and way more unpredictable. No matter how much of an effort Connor would put in, the Iron Titan always seemed to land a jab before he could think of doing something. Donovan ducked, planting his pivot leg on the ground, twisting his torso and spun, he spun so hard that the sole of his feet felt like burning if they could. He whipped his leg to the full extent it could, not hiding any strength reserves he had.

*WHIP*

“...THEN TAKE THIS!”

----------------------------------------

Arthur was worried ever since they got on Koloss. The atmosphere here was nothing like Askar, since every street had either a brothel or a pub, usually the difference between one and the other being that the former has more women and the latter more beer, but aside from that, they could be called the same business and no one would be able to tell the difference. When they got to the Arena, things seemed to get worse, with the constant complaints of Manfred and the silent yet judgeful eyes of the Cardinal. Donovan's training made Arthur have nightmares just thinking how he manages to endure such inhumane treatment and somehow still be able to show devotion. His friend was either crazy or fanatical at this point and he didn't like the idea, not at all.

But the anxiety that filled his heart seemed to have worsened thanks to this fight. The Elf wasn't a pushover. He knew about Donovan's weaknesses and his fighting style and prepared for it, negating the attack he made in the very first seconds of the fight. This was met with complaining from the Archbishop and disdain of the Cardinal, both being displeased with the ongoing process. When Donovan got hit by that big punch that forced him to raise his guard, both members of the church grunted in annoyance. Arthur started to feel resentment towards them. They weren't fighting, but still felt entitled to do this? He could only internally scoff at their stupid actions.

When the fight got even with the display of defense and offense, everyone in the Arena, including the previously displeased members, got excited seeing the impressive display of quick thinking and strategy. The Cardinal's face seemed less stoic, but that's to be expected by someone that is basically the second in command of the church. Even Manfred was starting to scream some words of encouragement now that the fight was not so on the opposite side. Even better when Donovan didn't react at all with that body blow and capitalized on the elf's overconfidence.

The tackle, despite being successful, didn't bring any fruits to the table. Connor, if he remembered correctly, managed to block the attacks very well, all things considered, even forcing them to get back on their feet. The elf, as soon as he got up, decided to advance full force without any hesitation. That earned a grin of the Cardinal who up to this point, remained silent.

“That stupid Knife-Ears.”, The Cardinal said in a rather pleased tone.

*WHIP*

When Arthur got his eyes back however, Donovan kicked the leg of the Elf so hard that even with the crowd's excited screams. He could only wish that this fight would finish soon, praying to his Goddess.

----------------------------------------

A kick. Not just a simple kick, at least not the ones he saw and felt most of the time. Connor saw but couldn't do anything about it as the leg got kicked to oblivion, completely breaking his balance. He managed to recover steadfast, already in his guard, but the situation was grimm for him.

“Do you really think I am going to have the same weakness forever?”, Donovan asked, annoyed.

“In a way.”, Connor's voice crack could not be hidden.

Moreover, the fact his leg felt the impact but it was more pushed than damaged bugged his mind. It didn't make sense that such a big noise from the kick whipping his leg just so the end result to be the same as pushing a cabinet. No rest for the wicked however, since Donovan saw the lack of action of the Elf, the human took the initiative, bombarding the guard with powerful compact punches. Connor wouldn't last in his guard, it was going to break at one point. So he decided to take a few steps back in his fight plan and use the false distance management.

*WHIP*

Only for his left leg to be kicked again.

He saw the kick and tensed his calves to endure the attack, but he couldn't move it away from the kick. This was enraging since if he remained at normal distance, he would be punched, false distance and his leg would get the bitter end if he leaned backwards. He didn't even want to find out what would happen if he leaned forwards. Regardless of what he was going (or not) to do, Donovan never stopped attacking, drawing the attention up only to finish with a leg kick, always targeting the left.

Connor managed to jab him at some points, stepping in as to not lose his own pace and completely erase the control he had on the fight, but even so, Donovan would dodge and punch the body and kick the leg again and again. The cycle repeated itself until Connor was visibly shaking from the damage he took. His legs wobbled and started to swell, not to mention the big purple stain it had from the constant attacks it received. The elf would try something new, he needed to, find a way to use his strengths and punish Donovan somehow.

There was only one problem.

----------------------------------------

“He's stuck.”, Yuri said with a mix of horror and apprehension.

“No way!”

Zagul watched the match from the start. He saw in vivid detail what happened and yet he still didn't believe it got to this situation. Not only the reports that he got were completely wrong, but Donovan seemed like a different fighter from what Yuri told them. Granted that even two years can change a person even if slightly, but this was no subtle change! This was madness!

This guy withstood the jab-touch, Straight combo they worked on training and took the most powerful body blow, the Sunday Punch like it was a slap of a napkin and immediately retaliated with his own body blow! Sure, the fight got even after that with them landing attacks at the same time, but after that Connor was not in control of the fight!

“Yuri, those kicks… Those punches…”

"Yeah.”, Yuri answered, predicting what the Lacerta would say, “So, those leg kicks, man, we totally overlooked 'em in training. But turns out, they're a killer strategy against Connor. The jabs… he is moving the arm first and turning his shoulder at the last moment.”

“Why? We have trained against kicks, and such a punch exists?”, Zagul seemed so confident in his statement that those unaware would actually believe him.

“We never practiced how to block kicks aimed at the legs.”, The tribal slave reminded, “Donovan spotted that flaw and used that punch to prepare the kick. And, like, what happens when your leg keeps getting hammered? What do you think's gonna happen to a fighter who can't even move properly?”

He thought for half a second before realizing, “He can't dodge the attacks, his guard will eventually break…”

“Yeah. I should've seen this coming.”

*WHIP*

They refocus on the fight. It was impressive how Connor's leg didn't break after all these kicks. He could switch stances, putting his right leg in front of him, but in the state of pain he is right now it was pointless and it would take too long, time that Donovan would use to pummel the poor elf. Even with all of the disadvantages against him, Connor held his guard firm and patiently waited for an opportunity, something that he could use, but even after his attempt to jab, no one could hide the fact that the damage was so high his fastest punches started to slow down. It wasn't a matter of if he was going down now, only when.

However, something got the attention of everyone. Not just the religious team or slave team, but the entire Arena almost fell to a complete silence when Donovan's fist started to shine. The punch he prepared was hidden only for Connor, who was behind his guard, still waiting for even the slightest lapse in concentration, blocking every jab the human was spending. As Donovan's fist gleamed with an otherworldly light, whispers of awe and anticipation rippled through the crowd, unsure of what was about to unfold in the arena's charged atmosphere.

“NO! CONNOR, GET OUT!”, Yuri abandoned any sense of informality right now.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM, CONNOR!”, Zagul also screamed.

None of the pleas were heard. They could only watch as Connor opened his guard trying to punch Donovan in a false sense of security. The glowing beam of death approached the face of the Wood Elf and his eyes widened again today, looking to the bright visage of destruction.

And then, there was silence.

*crack*

----------------------------------------

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Daniel was fine. He felt fine, like the I-am-in-a-cold-water-pool kind of fine, floating on top of the water ever so slightly moving from one side to the other and the waves of his movement reflected the water. It was a nice feeling, really. Here he didn't have any doubts, concerns, troubles, headaches… Kind of poetic in a way, therapeutic too. As he sky-gazed at the stars on top of him, he could only give a passing thought on what he was doing before coming to such a peaceful place.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Daniel got up from the pleasant water. It was time for him to fight, his amateur fight if he remembered correctly, right? He had his 8 ounce gloves, his boxing shorts and the boots to match. He didn't remember who he was going to face, but that didn't matter, he was going to win. He needed to win. He'd prove once and for all that he wasn't weak anymore, that he could face those who wronged him and break their noses if he desired to do so. He wouldn't be a failure, he would win so everyone would accept him. How could anyone reject a guy that succeeded?

Tick-tock, Tick-tock

It was a shadowy figure, the stands were empty and the lighting was almost completely off, but he stepped in and fought. The figure being the exact perfect boxer Daniel wanted to be, the person he wanted to become. People started to fill up the stands, shadow people but still people. They started screaming, maybe rooting for his opponent, but no matter, he would win this guy and claim the victory for himself.

“You need to be gentle, Daniel. No one is going to hear you if you just scream at them.”, Serenity warned her beloved.

As Daniel's fists flew, each punch echoed with the weight of his unresolved emotions, his anger fueling every blow. Yet, amidst the chaos of the fight, he heard Serenity's voice, a whisper that never felt more loud in his life, amidst the clamor of the crowd, managed to reach him. Her gentle reminder cut through his rage, a beacon of calm amidst the storm of his mind. With each strike, he fought not only against his opponent but also against the darkness threatening to consume him. The shadowy figure he faced morphed, becoming a reflection of his inner turmoil, a manifestation of the betrayal and loss he could never accept.

*DING DING DING*

That was not the problem. Far from it. The first round ended and each fighter got to their corner, Daniel being by himself as the shadow boxer talked with Carlos.

Carlos…

Tick-tock tick-tock

*DING DING*

The fighters resumed, approaching each other to the center of the ring. Daniel's mind raced as he attacked as fast as he could while his opponent seemed to dance around him, carefree and nonchalantly avoiding confrontation for now. In the shadowy arena of his mind, Daniel's fists flew with reckless abandon, fueled by the seething anger and pain that gnawed at his soul. The figure before him, a distorted reflection of his deepest fears and insecurities, taunted him with every dodge and counter.

Daniel's vision blurred with tears of frustration and despair. Each blow he landed felt hollow, a futile attempt to silence the demons that he created for himself. The crowd, a chorus of mocking voices, egged on his opponent, their jeers echoing in his ears like a cruel symphony of doubt.

Serenity's voice, a distant echo amidst the chaos, whispered words of caution that fell on deaf ears. In his blind fury, Daniel lashed out with unchecked aggression, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. With each passing moment, the shadowy figure seemed to grow stronger, feeding off his pain and feeding into his despair. Carlos, despite bearing a neutral expression, encouraged the shadow boxer to finish off the fight as soon as possible.

As the final bell tolled, Daniel collapsed to his knees, defeated not by his opponent, but by the weight of his own unresolved emotions. The figure loomed over him, a sinister reminder of the things he most hated, a constant reminder that he was weak. And as the crowd's mocking laughter filled the empty arena, Daniel realized that he had lost not only the fight but also a piece of himself in the process.

With each passing moment, the darkness seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with its weight. The specters of betrayal and loss loomed large, their presence an ever-present reminder of his failure to overcome them. And as Daniel gazed into the abyss of his own despair, he realized that he was trapped, stagnant and desperate.

In that moment of utter despair, Daniel's anger gave way to resignation, his once-fiery spirit extinguished by the overwhelming weight of his grief. With a heavy heart, he surrendered to the darkness, knowing that he had been defeated not by his opponent, but by the demons that lurked within his own mind. And as the shadows closed in around him, Daniel slipped into the abyss, consumed by the darkness that had long haunted him.

Was he… broken?

As Daniel's thoughts swirled in the darkness of his mind, a simple thought of self-awareness flickered within him. Was this truly all he was capable of? Had he become nothing more than a shattered reflection of his former self? Even Serenity found something redeemable in him, so why couldn't he, the owner of his own body (if you disregard a minor detail), wasn't able to do the same?

Memories of brighter days taunted him, mocking reminders of the happiness and contentment he had once known. He longed to reclaim that sense of purpose and joy, the love he felt when Serenity first kissed him, to break free from the suffocating grip of this hell he called suffering. And yet, the path forward seemed shrouded in uncertainty, a daunting journey into the unknown.

Tick

"Blimey, how much self-pity will you be feeling, eh?”

Daniel looked around him, looking for the voice. He wasn't in the ring anymore, but he was on a big lake under the star full night. A rather pleasant switch in comparison with what he had before.

“Oi, you. Can you hear me?”, The voice spoke again, louder this time.

“What…?”

“It's me!”

Daniel could only look at a luminous orb in front of him, slowly but surely taking a shape of a geometrical form. What form it was, Daniel was not sure at all. It was like Star of David but, three dimensional? With a blue eye in the center? Question mark?

“Uuuuuuhhhhhh… Hi?”

“At last. Was half expecting you to jump up in disbelief, but I suppose this'll do.”, The figure’s extremities spinned around itself, clearly engaging in the conversation.

Also, this guy must have the most British accent he's ever heard.

“Sorry to disappoint you but I've seen a lot of shit recently.”, Daniel wasn't sure how to react to this.

“I know. I'm the so-called Erudit Sense you christened. Quite an intriguing moniker, if I may say so myself.”, The Star said, giving an eye smile.

How Daniel could identify that eye squint as a smile, he couldn't tell.

“Okay… but who the fuck are you?”

“Me?”, The Star seemed to be deep in thought, “My existence in itself shouldn't exist. Well, not mine per se, but ours.”

“I'm not sure I follow?”

The star sighed but not in frustration, more like a teacher explaining things to a troubled student, “Well, this place here is your mindscape.”

The star spun around and looked at the vast sea of stars on the sky and the reflection on the water.

“My what-scape?”

“Your subconscious.”, The Star elaborated, apparently expecting Daniel to not understand it, “Which means we are inside your mind where your soul lives.”

“I am sensing a ‘but’ here.”, Daniel said as he walked on the sea. It was confusing how this place was his mind, but he learned not to question magic and stuff.

They usually don't make sense on purpose.

"You better hope it's from a bonnie lass," The Star chuckled to himself. "But aye, this place ought to contain naught but your soul, yet here I am as well."

Ignoring the smug joke, Daniel looked suspiciously at the luminous star that floated around him, “And you are a soul?”

“An artificial one, but you are correct.”, The Star nodded at himself.

“Are you the only soul with me?”

“In a sense, yes.”, The star turned to face the boxer, “I'm the only one 'ere who's been with you since the beginning, when that rabbit-like critter nipped your nose by that tree.”

Daniel became pissed by a split second remembering such an event, but focused on the line first, “So there are more of you?”

“Eight in total, including me.”

“That's a bit excessive…”, Daniel pinched his nose. More importantly, he needed to know a few things, “Can you read my mind or check my memories?”

“Only if you allow it, although we can communicate telepathically.”, He looked at Daniel like a dog would look at his owner. He couldn't place this as cute or uncanny.

“Ok, that helps. Why are you with me? What's your name? And why are there eight of you?”

“I can only answer one of those, lad.”, He seemed apologetic, “I ask for your understanding.”

“Can you tell me why you can't say it?”, A small shift in perspective could help the little guy to not break whatever promise he made, if he made such a thing.

“My master, who's also my creator, requested I keep their identity concealed.”

“Not even a gender?”

“Not even a gender.”

Okay, that's a bit too protective, but it's expected. If these stars are with him, maybe it means Daniel has a purpose with them? And why only now he could talk with one of them? Is this related to his appearance in this new world?

“For my name, I don't have one.”, The Star said neutrally. For him (or it) it was just a fact.

“That's… sad. Don't you have… I don't know, a trait? Something that you identify with?”

"I was dubbed Erudit Sense due to my wisdom that's bailed out the owner of this vessel countless times. Surely that gives you a notion of what to christen me with.”

“Oh yeah.”, Daniel recalled, “And you look like the Star of David. Something combining these two, I guess.”

And the fact you are British, that was left unsaid.

“You can name me after your fight, Mr. Connor. You still need to win, right?”, The star reminded, now directly naming him, to continue on fighting.

Connor's eyes shook for a moment, “But… He's too strong and… I am broken…”

Tock

“Again with self-pity?”, The star breathed in and prepared a big sermon, “Look, do hear me out, sir. No matter how dashed something or someone might appear, there's always, and I do mean ALWAYS, a chance to rebuild. I've seen your progress, how you've become more focused, how you've taken the time to grasp how things work. Granted, you were let down by those primates, but you gained much from them. Were it not for their actions, you'd never have crossed paths with Sir Yuri and Sir Zagul, you'd never have honed your combat skills, and you'd never be seeking your own freedom! You're evolving, even if ever so slightly, for the better. You're on the right path, my friend.”

“People don't change. They restrain themselves.”, Connor rebuked, “Yes, I am improving, being a better and functional member of society. But I didn't change.”

“How can you be so sure, Sir Connor?”, The star seemed interested in the topic at hand, not at all offended by the disagreement.

“I have my reasons.”

“Would you allow me to give my opinion?”, He asked just like a child would ask if they can have a dog to take care of.

“You may speak.”, And it worked.

“People inherently change over time, influenced by their experiences, environment, and internal growth. Change is a fundamental aspect of any living being, as we continuously evolve in response to new circumstances and challenges. To suggest otherwise is to deny the essence of personal development.”, The British Star said in a rather academic tone.

Connor scoffed at this, "I disagree. While it may seem like people change on the surface, deep down, they often remain the same. Take an example of a drug addict. Even if they claim to be clean, the cravings and temptations never truly disappear. They may restrain themselves to fit societal expectations or to avoid judgment, but their core desires and behaviors remain unchanged.”

The Star was rather intrigued by this display of knowledge of the Wood Elf. But after blinking for a few seconds, he doubled down on his opinion, "But isn't that part of the process of change? It's not always an instantaneous transformation; it's a journey. Yes, there may be setbacks and moments of weakness, but that doesn't negate the progress that's been made. People can learn to manage their impulses and make conscious decisions to live differently. Just like you did and are still doing, might I add.”

Connor opened his eyes, staring at his star soul-mate, "I see your point, but I believe true change requires a fundamental shift in mindset and behavior, not just a surface-level adjustment. If someone is merely restraining themselves to appear changed, then they're not truly embracing transformation. It's like putting bandages on a wound without addressing the unknown infection. Eventually, that wound will resurface.”

A solid point, the star needed to admit. However the point itself still had a flaw in it, "Isn't restraint a form of change in itself? It's a conscious effort to resist old habits and make better choices. Sure, the temptation may linger, but with time and dedication, it becomes easier to manage. Change is a gradual process, and even if someone stumbles along the way, it doesn't diminish the progress they've made. Like you did with those women in the Red Light district, but you are behaving yourself.”

The star sensed an emotional rise on the elf. He looked at the ground, seeing his own reflection on the water, "Perhaps, but how can we truly know if someone has changed? People are adept at masking their true selves, especially when faced with societal pressure or personal guilt. It's easy to put on a facade of change to avoid judgment or to gain acceptance, but that doesn't mean their… my inner demons have been vanquished. True change requires honesty, vulnerability, and a genuine desire to transform from within.”

"I agree that authenticity is crucial in the process of change. Without genuine intentions and sincere efforts, any outward display of transformation may ring hollow. However, I still believe in the capacity for individuals to evolve and grow. It's a complex journey filled with ups and downs, but ultimately, change is possible for those who are willing to embrace it.”, The star paused after Connor looked him in the eye again, “And to be completely honest, you had a lot of fun these last few weeks, innit?”

“I…”

“We'll do this, we agree to disagree for now. But you still need to get up and fight, bruv.”, The star reminded him of the previous point. Although he liked the philosophical debate, more things were at stake.

“Are you having pity on me?”

“Sir, it's not because people want to help you that they feel pity on you.”, The Star explained, still polite and careful as he started, “If that was the case you wouldn't have found the love you so vehemently defended against Sir Zagul or accepted the help to hone your battle skills. Folk, sometimes, genuinely want to help others.”

“But… How can I beat Donovan?”

“I'll help. Just get up!”

Connor looked at this star soul-ish person-soul, “Alright. I'll name you Hughes.”

Hughes, blinked, “That name sounds like my cup of tea.”

“Oh God, he's using British mannerism.”

“Now let's go!”

Tick tock

----------------------------------------

It was a single punch, a perfect smite performed in the perfect timing. Donovan felt proud and enraged that he needed to use such powers to beat the elf, but it was necessary. He was tougher than expected and had such a great sense of the ring as well as spatial-awareness that he needed to remove his ability to move in order to defeat him. The elf was really impressive, even forcing him to use the most advanced techniques to beat him. Donovan was going to hear a lot from the Cardinal before going to the Colosseum, but that will be the least of his concerns.

“Before anyone gets confused, Donovan Rick doesn't know how to use magic and has not used it in this punch. The runes in the neck of slaves prevent them from doing so, however this light is fruit of the faith he has on… whatever he believes in. And yes, he can be ordered not to use it.”, The announcer explained to the crowd who was about to riot in the “rules being broken”.

“You have my respect, Elf. It's a shame you will suffer from this loss-”

“HEY!”

Donovan's thinking was cut short when he heard that. Was he hallucinating? He hit the elf with a powerful smite, surely he can't recover from an attack that should break armor made out of iron, right?

And yet when he turned to the direction of the voice, the elf was there on his feet, with a broken nose, bleeding from cuts and bruises and swelling.

“I didn't hear no bell.”, The Elf declared as he raised his guard.

“Impossible! How did you manage to survive this!?!”, Calling the expression Donovan made “baffling” was an understatement.

“Sir Connor, can you hear me?”, Hughes asked, reminding Connor that he was, in fact, with a soul in his mind.

“Yep.”

“I'm taking care of your wounds here, but you will need to take care of the offense.”, Indeed Connor felt his injuries gradually diminishing, at least in the pain department.

“No pressure, huh?”

“None at all.”

Connor changes his stance, his torso practically sideways with his left hand way further than needed, as well as his right hand near his chin. Sure the damaged leg was still in kicking reach, but he had a plan to counter that.

“Bring it on!”, Connor defied with the universal gesture that said his exact previous words.

Donovan growled and rushed in, doing the exact same motion of kick Connor saw a few times in this fight. However this time a simple jab was enough to stop him in his tracks. Subsequent jabs managed to make Donovan retreat from taking damage. It was impressive how fast the jabs were too, despite the weird stance Connor was using. He had no trouble keeping the believer away, each punch doing small but accumulated damage nonetheless.

“How's my leg?”, Connor asked mentally as he punched Donovan's face again.

“You can walk with no trouble now.”, Hughes was quick to answer.

With a step in, the jab that was keeping Donovan away sent him further than before with twice the speed. But the human expected this already and managed to hold his ground, immediately dashing while crouched. Connor tried to jab him again but he dodged the attack, preparing one of his own to hopefully break the elf's ribs.

*CUT*

Only for something to hit his cheek at the last second.

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“SO THAT'S WHAT KNOCKED ME OUT?!?”, Zagul screamed seeing the attack.

He, as well as Yuri, were already amazed and in disbelief after Connor got up and started fighting again. Well, the entire crowd were not on the edge of their seats, they were standing up at this point, which forced Yuri and Henry to get up too.

Yuri found some focus to comment on Connor's stance and how it favored jabs, increasing their speed and reach while sacrificing defense, but before he could finish they saw how Connor was about to get hit only to use his right elbow to negate the attack at the last second.

And we have a full circle of Zagul realizing what defeated him in his fight with Connor.

“He did it again!”, Yuri was really impressed by such an attack.

Donovan was so confused by the attack that he didn't see the next attack, a flying knee with the injured leg right to his face, sending his body arching upwards, with no guard to protect him whatsoever. But what happened right after this was what pit the cherry on top, with Connor using the same punch Donovan was using before, stretching the arm first and twisting the shoulder last.

“That punch is not easy to do, much less replicate.”, Yuri commented in awe.

“What is that supposed to mean?”, Zagul almost didn't ask, afraid to be right in his presumption.

----------------------------------------

*CRACK*

Body blow, this time way stronger than before. Donovan couldn't hide the pain even if he tried. Connor was faster, stronger and tougher than before, but nothing changed in him. Was he hiding such power? Such speed? Such tenacity? Such might? Hard to tell, specifically when you are being punched on the face too. Connor effortlessly dodged the jabs and straights that tried to reach him, returning with a big body blow with his left hand.

*CRACK* *CRACK*

Connor could see and feel the pain Donovan felt with this punch. Once a fix to his previous weakness is now being punished at each given opportunity, but that's exactly what the two of them planned. Connor's strength has improved thanks to Hughes not only healing his body but also strengthening it, which allowed him to continue fighting at 100%, 100% of the time. The Star fell silent for a while, focusing on healing whatever was needed and Connor was not going to complain. Ducking a hook, he used his left again to punch the exact same spot as before.

*CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK*

He didn't wince, he almost collapsed entirely. Each punch stronger than the last, breaking more ribs, hurting even more. Donovan's mind raced trying to find a plan, a glimpse of hope to help his current situation. He blocked the next wave of punches, frustrated when he realized that the Elf just copied the punch technique he learned in this past week. Not even his training was this painful, and yet, he was being broken piece by piece after each attack. His arms hurt, his legs wanted to give up, his eyes wanted to close… The only thing keeping him awake was his faith and his objective, the people that counted on his success. However…

*CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK*

This punch, another left body blow. Connor was beating this guy with his weakest hand, punching the same spot over and over again, and he would continue punching there as long as it was a viable option. His mind focused on the discussion he had with Hughes, about change. Despite being skeptical, the Star did have a point, people need to truly want to change, constantly get help to do so and accept things as they are to reflect on his future actions.

Connor, no, Daniel felt all the emotions he could feel after Serenity's incident. He denied her death so strongly that he didn't think straight when he accepted Carlos' offer to do pit fighting. He was, and still is, in constant anger even before the fact, lashing out to others that didn't even know him. He bargained with himself that it was fine, he was going to find money to save her, even though he died trying to do it. He felt so depressed over the past six months that he refused to see the things he conquered himself in this new life, and only Hughes managed to make Daniel see what he was missing when he only focused on what he missed.

A really small focus on things can improve someone's life.

Acceptance, that's what Serenity, Yuri and now Hughes tried to tell him to do.

The problem is not being weak, staying weak is.

And Connor was not going to stay weak.

Donovan was kneeled on the ground, barely holding together himself. This last punch was so strong that he couldn't remain on his feet. Whatever is fueling his power, it isn't natural. Connor looked at the human, meeting eye to eye. He seemed afraid, for some reason, not that Connor could blame him for it, he probably fractured the guy's ribs with those punches. Donovan got up with his right arm covering his torso, clearly not wanting to be punched again in that area, but prepared that previous light again in his left fist. Connor humored him, preparing a punch of his own.

*catch*

Of course, that didn't mean Connor would just take another punch. With his left, he caught the punch, pushing it aside, clearing the way to the uncovered body. The punch traveled on its own at that point.

*CRACK*

*CRACK* *CRACK*

*CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK*

*CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK*

Donovan fell, unconscious.

Connor walked away.

The crowd deafened with their shouts.

“I am happy. I just didn't realize it.”, Connor thought to himself, smiling all the way. Maybe things will improve in the future.