Kalen’s opponent stood up with an annoyed expression, uttering the first growl of frustration that Kalen had heard during the match.

The man turned to face his younger opponent, wiping the sweat off of his brow before speaking.

“Well, you’ve done it, congratulations. But I think you’ve forgotten the sword you’re supposed to have ready before you unmask your enemy’s weakness.”

Kalen’s opponent spat in the sand in front of him.

Now without the helmet, Kalen was able to see the man across from him was a lot younger than his voice had indicated.

He was a young man with short dark hair, probably in his twenties by the appearance of his features.

A grouping of faded marks was noticeably sprawled across his lower face. Indicating that someone in the past had found conflict with the man as Kalen did now, and had tried to separate his jaw from the rest of his head.

Still, Kalen grinned. As tired as he was, it appeared his opponent felt the same.

‘I can still win. This had gone from being an uphill battle to nearly an even fight, if I can make enough contact with his face for my curse to take effect. But I have a chance now!’

Kalen got low to the ground, looking for anything nearby without taking his eyes off of the man.

“What? All that work and now you’re on the defensive? Did you really not have a plan?”

The man laughed, but Kalen could see the sweat running down his face all the same.

His taunts no longer carried the same weight now that Kalen could see past the iron helm.

He was just a man.

“Not going to move first? Then I wi–!”

The man raised his arms in the air as Kalen suddenly threw his other gauntlet. That gave him the moment of distraction he needed to move in.

Kalen jumped at the man, taking him from his feet once again as they both toppled into the sand.

Kalen slapped his uncovered hands onto his opponent’s worn face, pressing in as he also worked to break his nose. He needed skin contact, that was one of the only things he knew about his curse.

Yet still, he wasn’t going to let his opponent off with just that.

CRUNCH

“AH!”

Kalen screamed as his hand was bitten. In the next moment he flew through the air as he was pushed off.

‘Bastard bit me!’

Kalen roared inside his mind, getting ready to jump again as his opponent got to his feet. But the same trick would not work again.

“You broke my nose!”

The man yelled with indignation as blood rushed his cheeks. Though Kalen saw the man’s spit flew with vitriol, his words were drowned by the audience’s cheers.

Kalen still got the message.

‘Did it work? His face doesn’t look any different. Well, minus the nose. Is the curse not taking effect?’

Kalen looked around for anything else he could throw at him, but came up with nothing.

Both of his gauntlets were somewhere on the arena floor now, and to take off a boot would give his opponent an opening.

Yet he had no other objects nearby. The arena had been completely barren before their arrival. He was working with what he had.

“I’m going to smash your fucking head in!”

The gladiator roared as he charged forward. Newly invigorated with rage, Kalen’s opponent wasted no time, with hands at the ready that Kalen knew contained enough power to make good on that threat.

‘He’s single mindedly focused on me now. He can’t change course!’

With his remaining strength Kalen hoisted his breastplate from his body, and threw it on the ground before springing himself backward.

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Just in time too, as mere seconds had separated him from contact with his enraged foe.

“Yes!”

Kalen cheered as the other combatant’s momentum carried him over the fallen breastplate. The sheet of poor quality metal bent as the man’s stature tipped forward.

Kalen watched with focused eyes as he crashed down yet again.

It had seemed like every critical moment of this match had been decided in the dust of the arena’s floor, and Kalen intended to continue that trend.

He moved forward, not wasting a second as his hands wrapped around his opponent's neck.

This time, he would aim to kill, with the help of the curse or not.

Holding him by his neck, Kalen repeatedly slammed the man’s head into the ground.

‘Die!’

‘Die!’

‘Fuck! You!’

“JUST DIE!”

The man’s eyes began to swell up, reddened by the lack of oxygen.

His arms below Kalen’s fumbled to push his smaller opponent off from his body like he had done before, but a numbing sensation had come over him by now, weakening and reducing his movements to useless flailing.

Yet not before he got off one good hit into the center of Kalen’s chest.

“Ack!”

Kalen spat, but he kept holding on, as he knew his survival depended on it.

In the next moment, things began to change.

HCK!

BLEHCH!

“Just die already!”

The sound of retching came as Kalen yelled at the man.

Only after a second did he realize that the man was spitting up.

Bubbles of yellow bile started to foam from the man’s mouth, choking him as he couldn’t move them out from his airways.

Kalen didn’t mind the liquid as it dribbled down onto his hands, and continued to focus solely on constricting the man’s neck.

Finally, after a moment, the retching stopped.

The arms flailing and scratching at Kalen finally fell limp into the sand.

The reddened eyes that had been unmasked stopped moving, as the skin around them had grayed to a pallid hue.

Kalen sighed, releasing his grip after a moment of waiting.

He had almost expected the man to be faking it after all that he had done, and he wasn’t going to take any chances this late into the game.

Kalen stood up, exhausted.

“Is it over?”

YEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

The packed seats of the arena all around him erupted in cheers.

Their applause came as a signal to Kalen that yes, it was finally over.

Kalen looked at the body of the other gladiator, sighing as he caught his breath.

Soon after, the announcer’s voice came booming from somewhere in the stadium, announcing the end of the match.

“What a performance today from the newcomers! Let’s hear it everyone, for Gladiator number three-twenty-two!”

WWHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

YEEEEEAAAAAHHHH!!!

CHICKCHICKCHICKCHICK

Kalen turned from the sight of his opponent's body to see the iron gate he had come through starting to open.

Two guards came out from the dark room while the audience was still in cheers, pointing at Kalen and telling him with a gesture to get back inside.

Kalen used his undershirt to wipe the sweat from his face and walked toward the door. Giving the guards a look before he went to head back inside.

“Wait!”

Before he could move, one of the guards firmly told him to stop and put a hand on his chest.

“What is it?”

Kalen looked at the guard, whose face was surveying the crowd in the seats above. The noise from their cheers was still everpresent, but starting to get quieter.

“Give a wave to the crowd. They’ll like that.”

Kalen frowned.

“Why do I care wha–!”

SMACK

Kalen’s head bent to the side as the other guard smacked it.

“Are you suddenly a free man? No? Give the crowd a damn wave.”

Kalen rubbed the back of his head, wondering why he had spoken up before turning and doing as he was told.

YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Kalen nearly flinched from the reaction.

The crowd’s cheers got even louder when he did as the guard said. He was shocked to see so many stares from the people above lasered onto him, intent on his next move.

Kalen paused. He expected to feel something, but…nothing?

As he looked around to the crowd above, all Kalen could come up with were feelings of disgust at the crowd’s reaction to his fight.

He felt no pride having killed that man, Kalen realized.

He turned to look again at the lump of flesh and armor laying there in the sand. The citizens gathered around him seemed ecstatic after the fight regardless. Were they not seeing the same thing as him?

Was he wrong, or were they?

“Good. Now you can go back inside. See the attendants before returning your armor.”

Kalen nodded as he turned away from the crowd.

Having won the match, he had earned the right to his first meal as per the arena’s traditions.

And having also earned a week of reprieve from signing up for more matches, Kalen would have plenty of time to think about his situation in peace.