Nine Lives

[Gildarts]

Cindy rolled her fist into a ball and smashed it into the man’s cheek. The man’s skin crumpled with the momentum, his body crippled with the equally blazing fire of pain and fear as he was thrashed into the ground with the tremendous force of the blow.

The crunch of death thudded in his bones, as his ribs cracked to puncture a few ribs. The ruthless titan leaned over, placing her steel boot on the wrist of the opponent. “I’ll be taking that.” She hissed. The warmth of her breath kissed his cheek and was the last thing the man felt before she slammed the giant weapon into him, resembling all that was expected of a gladiator.

“Do or die.” She cocked her head, as though saying she didn’t need to explain herself to the man in front of her.

Cal watched too, but with a less horrified expression on his face than Gildarts, who was almost accusatory. The only thing that held his stance firm was the debt which he owed them. And he now knew how they wanted him to pay it.

The Prime growled. He didn’t have to be happy about it, but when people came up to ram into him, he slammed them back using the least amount of his excessive force. Over time, the many of the contenders were depleted. There were about fifty left, each spearing one another when he had awoken from his far-off slumber. The number had been whittled down to around thirty before the contestants became harder to knock out.

People had grouped together, and the battle was at a standstill. Gildarts readied himself, holding the power to end the game, yet Cindy held him back. His amber eyes fell on her, who in turn, held his gaze steady.

The paused moment apparently meant something, and the game masters suddenly announced, “Congratulations, the preliminaries are over! You’ll have your shot to the top as we go a more classic fighting style. I’ll see you next round.”