Soon I fell into a routine. In the morning I would receive lessons from Arvia, and in the afternoon I would train with the guards. After the first days, more guards joined in on the special training and soon the group was over fifty men large, who took turns during the training as fifty men was way too much even for me. The actual number of guards taking part in it was over a hundred, but those who were already part of the city guard rotated to participate on their days off.
A week after my first arena match, it was time for my second one. The arena held matches almost daily, but the more entertaining or bizarre matches were held on the weekly holiday so that more people could attend and the entrance fee raised.
As the previous time, I was brought to the arena in a covered wagon which, this time around, had a snowflake motif painted on it, something which I had to assume Denzel had chosen to be my trademark and to advertise my matches as the wagon traversed the city.
Unlike before my first match, this time I wasn't offered a weapon, instead I was made to enter the grounds of the arena directly. For the fistfight between me and the cyclops a rope had been fixed to the ground to form a circular ring around forty feet in diameter. On my side of the ring, a few dozen feet from it, Denzel was sitting seven feet off the ground on a tall chair and, opposite to him on the other side, another man was doing the same. He was talking to my adversary, a fat, twelve feet tall cyclops who was wearing only a loincloth.
Denzel called out to me and I walked up to him to hear what he had to say.
"Ok, listen. You will have to position behind that line of chalk," he said, pointing at a white line inside the ring, a few feet away from an identical one, "and wait for the sound of the gong, then the match will start, ok?"
I nodded and let him continue.
"There are four ways to win this, you can push him out of the ring, pin him down to the count of ten, make him pass out, or have his sponsor concede the match. If, after ten minutes, none of the four happen on either side, the judges," he pointed at five men who were sitting on the first row of the stands, separated from the rest of the crowd by a low barrier, "will decide the winner. All clear?"
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"Sure. Do you have any pointers on him," I said, nodding towards the cyclops.
"He's dumb and easily angered."
"Good, wish me good luck," I said, walking towards my spot.
My opponent had finished talking with his sponsor too, and was waiting for me at his line. When I was finally in position, the announcer gave a short speech to excite the crowd, after wich they sounded the gong.
The cyclops immediately rushed at me, his hands in front of me, ready to push me down. I stepped on a side and crouched down to deliver a low spinning kick to his legs, making him fall face first into the sand.
I immediately seized up my occasion and jumped on top of him, putting an arm around his neck, while the other went under his arm to lock it away from the ground.
I had underestimated his strength and agility, as he quickly pushed himself up with only his remaining arm, then threw himself against the ground on his back, crushing me underneath.
I quickly pushed him away on a side and shot up, deciding that trying to pin down a twelve feet tall monster that weighted much more than me was probably not the best idea.
As he got up from the ground too, I hit his head with a rounding kick, then closed in to throw in a jab at his nose and an uppercut under his chin.
I had been too confident in my quick succession, though, as he used the opening to throw himself at me, crushing me underneath his massive body again.
I used the opportunity to punch at his jaw repeatedly, while the crowd counted down.
At three seconds from my loss, I pushed him away again, and rolled out from underneath him.
This time around he was much slower at getting back up on his feet, probably due to all the hits at his head. I chose to capitalize on the occasion and activated the powers of the elk and bear.
With inhumane speed, I pushed him back on the ground and started stomping on his head with my heel. Once, twice, thrice. I kept hitting him again and again like a jackhammer, making it impossible for him to push himself back up.
The gong sounded again, making me stop with my foot in the air, about to stomp again against his skull. I looked up and saw the sponsor of the cyclops waving a red flag high over his head.
I stepped away from the cyclops who, I was only now noticing, was foaming from his mouth and raised my fists to the sky to welcome the cheers of the crowd.