Chapter 62: The Viper’s Last Strike
The stairs went down forever.
Holden descended through a narrow corridor lit by flickering torches. Distant roars echoed from below, muffled by tons of rock but still powerful enough to vibrate in his body.
The passage opened into chaos.
The Blood Colosseum was a massive underground amphitheater carved from raw stone. Roaring fire pits lined the walls, casting orange light across thousands of faces. The stands rose in steep tiers, packed so tight that bodies pressed against each other. Gamblers waved fistfuls of cash. Syndicate bosses sat in boxed sections with guards flanking their seats. Corrupt nobles hid behind silk hoods and jeweled masks, their eyes bright with hunger as they watched the central pit.
The fighting cage dominated the center of it all. A massive circular structure of black iron bars, with glowing runes that pulsed with containment energy. Inside, bloodstains covered the floor like dark paint.
Holden moved through the crowd without saying a word. His black cloak swallowed the firelight. People parted instinctively, making room for the silent figure who carried himself like death walking.
He found a position near the fighter staging area and stopped.
His eyes swept the pit.
There.
Varga stood with a group of thugs near the far side of the cage. The man was huge, over six feet tall, and covered in muscles. His arms were incredibly thick, and his bald head was shiny with sweat. He had rough scars all over his face and neck from years of fighting. He held a giant axe on his shoulde, the blade chipped but still lethal.
He was laughing out loud. The kind of laugh that demanded everyone nearby pay attention.
"Nobody survives my axe!" Varga’s voice boomed across the pit, cutting through the crowd noise. "Not academy brats. Not veteran killers. Nobody! That grand prize is mine by right, and anyone who steps in that cage with me is just meat waiting to get chopped!"
His Iron Fangs thugs cheered and pounded their chests like animals.
Holden silently watched.
Under the mask, his eyes tracked the way Varga moved his body. The slight twist in his torso when he gestured with his axe. The position of his feet.
Maeve’s words echoed in his mind.
*Strike below ribs while he swings. Don’t try to block. Just get inside his guard and hit the gap.*
He filed the information away and kept watching.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
A voice exploded from somewhere above, amplified by runes until it shook the entire colosseum. Holden looked up to see a lean man in a bright red coat standing on a floating platform near the ceiling. His hair was styled into ridiculous spikes.
"WELCOME TO NIGHT SEVENTY-FOUR OF OUR GRAND BLOOD COLOSSEUM TOURNAMENT!"
The crowd roared. Thousands of voices blending into a single wave of bloodlust.
"WE HAVE SIXTEEN FIGHTERS ENTERED TONIGHT! SIXTEEN WARRIORS COMPETING FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP PRIZE OF FIFTY THOUSAND GOLD COINS AND THE RIGHT TO CALL THEMSELVES THE UNDEFEATED!"
More screaming. Coins changed hands in the stands. A woman in a feathered mask fainted from excitement and had to be carried away by her companions.
"OUR FIRST MATCH OF THE EVENING IS A SPECIAL TREAT!" The announcer’s voice climbed higher. "IN THE RED CORNER, WE HAVE A VETERAN OF THIRTY-SEVEN COLISEUM MATCHES WITH THIRTY-SIX VICTORIES! HE IS THE REASON POISONED WEAPONS ARE BANNED IN THE UPPER RINGS! GIVE IT UP FOR... THE VIPER!"
A section of the cage door slid open. A thin, muscular man walked into the arena. He moved like his namesake, fluid and predatory. Two short-swords hung from his hips, their edges gleaming with a faint green sheen.
The crowd cheered for him. They knew this killer. They’d bet on him before.
"AND IN THE BLUE CORNER!" The announcer paused for dramatic effect. "A MYSTERY! A GHOST! A MASKED UNKNOWN WHO SIGNED UP TONIGHT WITH NOTHING BUT A CLOAK AND A DEATH WISH! THEY CALL HIM... ASURA!"
Holden stepped forward.
They laughed at him and shouted insults, while some people booed from different parts of the stands.
"Who is that guy?"
"Never seen him before."
"Fresh meat! The Viper’s gonna carve him up!"
"Hope you like poison, rookie!"
Holden ignored all of it. He walked through the cage door.
The Viper was already circling, his poisoned blades drawn. His eyes were cold and calculating above a thin smile.
"New blood," the assassin hissed. "I almost feel bad about this. Almost."
Ding!
The bell rang.
The Viper exploded into motion. Both blades came in low and fast, one aimed at Holden’s stomach, the other sweeping at his thigh. The green poison dripped from the edges, promising a slow and painful death even from a scratch.
Holden didn’t dodge.
He didn’t block.
His hands moved.
Clang!
His right palm caught the first blade flat against his Iron-Body skin. The steel screamed against his flesh like a knife trying to cut stone.
His left hand caught the second blade the same way.
The Viper’s eyes went wide.
"What the f—"
Snap!
Holden closed his fists. Both poisoned short swords shattered, spraying fragments across the floor. The assassin stumbled backward, suddenly holding nothing but broken hilts.
He looked up at the masked figure in horror.
Holden took one step forward.
He swung his palm in a powerful arc.
Thwack!
The blow hit the Viper’s chest with a sound like a boulder hitting a sandbag. The assassin was knocked clean off his feet and sent flying across the cage. His arms spun frantically before he crashed into the iron bars with a deafening rattle.
He slid down.
He didn’t get up.
Silence fell over the colosseum.
Thousands of faces stared at the masked figure standing in the cage. They saw the shattered sword on the floor and the unconscious veteran hanging off the cage bars, looking completely limp and lifeless.
The announcer’s voice came back, quieter now. Almost shocked.
"...Asura wins."
[Ding!]
[Rank 2 (3-Star) Cultivator Defeated!]
[Base Reward: 500 KP]
[Colosseum Victory Bonus: +500 KP]
[2x KP Booster Applied!]
[Total: +2,000 KP]
[Current Balance: 13,790 KP]
Across the pit, Varga had stopped laughing.