The entire arena goes quiet.

I expected that. The truth is that I've done this before.

In my first life, days after Caster broke up with me, I snuck into the stadium, braved out onto the arena field and challenged one of the other fighters, not The Mountain, but a much smaller man whose opponent got cold feet at the last minute.

Of course, at the time, I had zero combat experience and no reason to really do it, except that it was yet another last-ditch attempt to get Prince Caster back.

I was depressed from heartbreak, dreading my future as an old man's toy and downright didn't care about anything anymore.

So, I stood there and told the King, "If I win the match, I would like you to accept my relationship with your son."

Remembering it now douses me in second-hand embarrassment.

I still can't believe I did that.

I'm amazed at both my braveness and stupidity. Caster had told me prior to that, that his father liked boldness and admired strength and courage. I had thought maybe my actions would earn me some respect from the King.

Instead, King Drogo's eyes narrowed with annoyance, his lips sneering with disgust.

I supposed that was the first time I caught the King’s wrath. He probably would have had me hanged or flogged on the spot, had Caster not dragged me off the field instantly.

Later, I learned he punished his son in my stead.

This time, things will be different though.

I'm not doing challenging the Mountain for Caster's sake. I'm doing this for me, and for the people I will meet in the future, those kind souls who didn't deserve their end.

I don't want to lose them again so I fully intend to fight The Mountain and win.

If the King agrees to grant us this battle that is.

I peek at his stand, and find Caster is on his feet staring at me in disbelief.

“Adria?” he exclaims as though he can't believe his eyes. He was like this the first time I did this too.

But even more odd is that General Halo is also half-standing and staring at me too. The general has long golden locks that reach his shoulders and shrewd grey eyes. He is in charge of the military defense and operations of the North while General Roku leads the offensive wing.

Roku appears mildly bored but General Halo is staring at me with the same horrified disbelief as Caster.

What is that about?

Did this also happen in my first life and I didn’t notice because I was so concentrated on Caster? Or is this new?

I recall that day vividly, the way my heart raced in my chest even as I faced the King. But my eyes were on Caster the entire time, searching for any sign that he still cared for me, still loved me.

I thought it showed in his sheer panic at seeing me there.

I was willing to do anything to keep that love even fight without training or stamina.

My opponent had been my size and build and didn't have magic so I thought I had a good chance of beating him which was why I challenged him. I massively underestimated him though.

Watching him fight a second challenger, completely demolishing his opponent, proved that I would have lost horribly.

They expect me to lose even more horribly now.

I ignore the looks of Halo and Caster, turning to The Mountain. He looks bemused, glancing around like he's trying to understand a joke.

But then when no one laughs, he does the most unexpected thing.

He throws back his head and guffaws loudly.

The laugh is so loud it reverberates. It must be infectious too. A few of the spectators also laugh, some uncomfortably, because they probably dread watching another beat down like with the water girl.

But at least some of them of them are eager for it.

No matter. I won't let their laughter get to me. I wait for it to die down, then turn to the King once more.

"May we begin?”

Beside the King, General Halo shakes his head silently. His reaction bothers me. I can't decipher if this is a new thing, or if he acted like that in the first timeline.

Has something changed? Is it my fault?

I can't afford to change too many things in this timeline if I want my plans to work out. The entire plan hinges on my knowledge of the past. As much as possible, things need to play out how they did.

Otherwise, I'm in trouble.

If The Mountain fights differently from what I remember, even by changing just a few moves, I'm in for a world of pain. I'll lose this battle before it even begins.

Nevertheless, let's get started.

"Your Highness?" I inquire again, making my tone as deferential as possible.

The King’s displeasure shows in the curl of his lip, but the good news is he doesn't look as furious as he did the first time I did this. In fact, a part of him seems almost amused.

No doubt he expects to watch the Mountain teach me my place too.

King Drogo gestures for us to proceed. Caster releases a choked sound of protest, but I ignore him, turning back to the Mountain.

The large man is wiping his eyes, teary from bouts of laughter. "I like your spirit, girl, so I’m going to give you one more chance. Leave here before I hurt you."

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Scraps of unease slither through me. I feel like I'm staring my doom in the face.

The coward inside me bids me to run as far and fast as I can.

But I ran before.

In my second life, I left Accacia behind and settled in the Midlands, a stretch of townships equidistance between Pangea, The North, The Western Provinces and the Eastern Desert. I made a new life for myself there, a humble one with a few friends and people I would almost call family.

They all died when the Pangeans arrived and burned it all to ashes.

In my third life, I decided to run even farther, all the way to Pangea. I thought that would be where I would be safest considering how everything ends up. In that life, I learned my lesson and tried not to have attachments, avoiding people so I didn't get dragged into their troubles. I also ignored all the injustice I saw, the rot that festered under the glittering city. I lived quietly and pointlessly.

But I still got captured anyway, by the Empress and her small army of Farrow Witches. She insisted I had a gem that I'd never heard of and tortured me for weeks on end to get it. If not for Wolf and Savannah's timely arrival, she would have eventually tortured me to death.

The point being that I ran many times, in all my lives, and that never did me any good. I only ended up back in Accacia.

Perhaps the key to my survival, lies in the survival of Accacia. So while I hold no loyalty to the Great North, I have no choice but to fight for it.

Yes. Running isn't the answer. You need to stay here and fight.

There's that voice again.

This time, I ask it silently, Does that mean if I stay, I won't die?

It chuckles darkly, silkily. Everyone dies sometime.

How encouraging.

Yet the words make me think of my friends dead around me, bodies littered in the sand. The little shred of happiness I found suddenly gone.

I refocus inward, grab onto that inner torment, the guilt that gives me strength. I remind myself that I'm not the same Adria, untrained and unworthy.

You can do this. You've fought people like him before, in your past lives. In my second rebirth, I learned back alley brawling, learned how to fight dirty. Of course that still wasn't enough, so in my third rebirth, I had a brilliant tutor who taught me an Eastern fighting technique called Mazai, which used my dance flexibility, and my diminutive size to my advantage.

She taught me to bring down much larger opponents with just a few quick moves.

She set me free and taught me how to fly.

I don't have the musculature or the grace I attained under her tutelage. But somewhere deep inside the knowledge and skills are still there.

And I have to see this through. More importantly, I have to win.

“I would worry more about myself if I were you,” I reply to the Mountain, getting into position. “After all, even the bull eventually becomes food for the worm.”

His eyebrows furrow. "What does a bull have to do with this?"

“You don’t understand a simple proverb?” I mock. “Not very bright are you? Then again, men like you rarely are.”

It's a sore spot to hit and it has the desired effect. The mountain charges at me with all his strength.

He swings with his left just as I predicted.

I shift just a second before the blow lands and then avoid the follow-up punch that would have smashed my chin. I'm a little slower than I would like but it's enough for now. I deftly dance around his next set of blows predicting each one, moving back and bringing him closer and closer to a wall.

The Mountain is still pulling his punches because he's underestimating me. But with every blow he doesn't land, his frustration grows.

The longer this battle draws out the more humiliating it is for him.

But the more entertaining it is for the crowd.

Their doubtful murmurs are turning to tentative cheers.

"Look at her go!" Someone shouts.

"Can't believe he hasn't managed to touch her yet," Another parrots.

The cheers get louder, the longer I hold out unscathed. Mountain snarls and kicks at my leg but I jump and execute a somersault that my former dancing teacher would have been proud of.

The cheers roar out in earnest then. They're surprised but also impressed. Every other battle so far has been quick, brute strength against strength.

No one has put on a show until now.

The Mountain isn't enjoying it though. Sweat beads his forehead, flowing down his wrinkled face. He finally scowls and charges at me in earnest.

I land my first critical hit soon after he backs me up against the wall. He thinks he has me cornered and concentrates all his power into his left fist, swinging out quick. Too quick.

I duck.

A bellow roars as his fist smashes into the jagged rocks that make up the arena walls. I don't leave him time to recover and kick out, landing a blow between his legs, somewhere on his upper thigh.

The blow should have landed somewhere much higher, and much more critical, but he moved on instinct protecting that sensitive area.

Damn.

That wouldn't have happened if I wasn't slower than I should have been. I may have the skill but my body is a limitation.

I need more training. But for now, I need to keep moving, remembering my trainer's voice.

The most important part of Mazai is speed. Don't get caught.

The Mountains eyes now blaze with rage, face and scalp red. His hand swings out and I try to avoid it but I'm once again too damn slow, the battle already tiring me out.

The Mountain succeeds in snatching me by the neck and jerking me up into the air.

Gasps ring out.

"This is it," someone says. The predictable end.

But I wrap my legs and arms around Mountain's arm and twist my entire body with force.

His arms twist out of the socket.

He screams and releases me.

"Oof!" I exclaim as I fall to the ground, the wind whooshing from my lungs.

The crowd screams and some clap, enjoying this show but I drown them out with my thudding heart.

"You damn bitch!" The mountain cradles his limp hand at his side. A single thump of fear goes through me as I watch his rage carefully.

The Mountain underestimated me and I was taking advantage of it so far. But I need to end this soon. My energy is flagging and he's still the superior fighter. He's bigger, stronger, and faster than me.

Once he catches on and changes up his moves, I'm done.

I flip to my feet and immediately target the arm I just dislocated, kicking his shoulder.

He grunts and swings his limp hand to slap me, but I drop just in time and drive my heel into his knee with all my strength.

He still doesn’t go down.

Damn it. Why on earth is he so damn strong?

The Mountain steadies himself and tries to grab me again, but I run.

I hear his footsteps behind me, quickly catching up to me.

I speed up even though my chest draws tight. I need to get to the other side of the arena, where the wall is much higher and steadier, for me to execute my next move.

I'm nearly at the wall when I feel fingers clutch the tip of my hair. Pain stings my scalp when I jump, losing strands of hair in the process.

I run up the wall and flip my body with a side twist. I spot the Mountain stop below me, and have a split second to aim, before landing with my entire weight on his injured shoulders.

He bellows and falls to his knees but his hand manages to wrap around my ankle before I can flip off him.

Next thing I know, I'm swinging through the air and being slammed onto the ground.

God.

Pain splinters my body and seizes my breath. A scream is trapped in my throat as my elbow shifts out of my socket.

I suppose I deserve that one. An arm for an arm.

Spots dot my vision and I think I hear someone, Caster, call my name but I can't be too sure. The hand leaves my ankle, a split second before the Mountain appears above me, his booted feet hovering over my head, ready to crush my skull.

I roll away just in time. His heavy foot lands by my face, spraying dust into my eyes.

Get up.

I'm used to recovering from my mother’s blows so I rise despite the pain in my body. Half-blind, I kick out with all my strength which is still not enough. Nevertheless, I land the critical hit, right between his legs.

"Aurgh!" The Mountain drops to his knees.

I hop behind him and drive my foot into his head, slamming it into the stone wall.

I do it again and again to disorient him so I can execute the finishing move.

Then, I take a second to identify the line between his shoulder and neck. There is a universal weak spot there, someone with a laughing twinkling voice had told me once. Once you hit it with even just a little force, your opponent goes right to sleep.

And that's what needs to happen now.

The second I spot his pulse moving under his skin, I slice my hand on that spot with all my strength.

The mountain drops like a log. I step back and wait, but he doesn't move. He doesn't rise.

The crowd is hushed. No one says a word, not even me because despite my planning and preparation there was a huge part of me that didn’t think I would win.

I can only imagine how shocked everyone else must feel.

My vision blurs again and the pain wants me to pass out but I don't. I need to finish this.

I turn to the King

“I win," I announce and it's the last thing I say before I fall.