Morning arrived. The clouds hung low in the sky, promising another downpour. Yet for now, the rain held off, leaving the air cool and thick with tension. The arena was alive with noise, the clamor of footsteps and the distant rumble of drums. The crowds were fuller than ever, spilling into the stands. Merchants moved their wares near the entrances.
Today was not like other days.
The king of the kingdom and his family were approaching. Royal soldiers led them to the main pathway to the arena. Cheers erupted in waves as the royal procession appeared on the horizon. The crowd surged forward, shouting praises and waving flags emblazoned with the kingdom's sigil.
Inside the arena, the host—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a booming voice and a commanding presence—stepped onto the central platform. This man, the one responsible for chaining Chainless to a life of blood and survival, raised his arms high.
"Lords and ladies of the kingdom! Today, you are graced by the presence of our noble king and his esteemed family! Let us show them the strength, the courage and the spectacle of our gladiators!"
The crowd responded with deafening cheers. The host gestured toward the massive iron gates that lined the arena floor. Slowly, they creaked open, revealing the first wave of fighters, gladiators bound by shackles they couldn't break.
The games began.
One by one, the fighters faced monstrous creatures dragged into the arena by chains thicker than a man's arm. Towering beasts with massive claws and fangs lunged at the gladiators who fought desperately for survival. Some managed to slay their foes, earning cheers and temporary reprieve. Others fell as the crowd gave their approval.
The host watched with a sadistic smile, reveling in the violence.
High above, at the very top of the colosseum, Vastarael stood unnoticed. The Invisible Veil had worn off hours ago but his vantage point was so distant and shrouded in shadows that no one bothered to look his way. His golden eyes gleamed as he observed the arena. From his perch, he could see the host smirking below and the king and his family seated in their royal box, enjoying the carnage as though it were theater. He scanned the cages and cells lining the lower levels of the arena, noting the faces of the enslaved fighters waiting their turn.
"Today is the day of freedom."
As if responding to his words, the first drops of rain began to fall. It started as a light drizzle but within moments, the clouds burst open, unleashing a downpour. The crowd groaned, pulling up hoods and raising makeshift covers. The torches lining the arena sputtered and hissed. Vastarael tilted his head back, feeling the rain on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the coolness and the clarity it brought to his thoughts.
"Oh I love the rain. Is it because of my Water divinity? If only I could flood everyone here like I did with Stephos but that's a mercy they shouldn't receive."
He looked down at the arena. His gaze shifted to Chainless, hidden in the shadows below.
"Well, time for a dramatic entrance."
With that, he began to descend. The moment he landed, a deafening boom echoed across the colosseum as he struck the wet ground. Mud and bloody water erupted outward in a circular blast, sending creatures and gladiators alike sprawling to the ground. Weapons clattered from hands and even the crowd above were slightly sent back from the force. His cloak (he stole it from the colosseum for dramatic effect) moved slightly as he looked around.
The beasts that had moments ago torn through gladiators with feral rage turned their attention to him. Their eyes burned with primal hatred and they roared in unison, charging toward him with thunderous steps that shook the ground.
Vastarael didn't move.
As the first beast lunged, he raised his hand. Sapphire shards materialized in midair, slowly swirling like drills. With a flick of his wrist, they shot forward, piercing the creature's skull. It fell instantly. The second beast followed, and then a third, but their fates were no different. Each met the same end. A silent, merciless death was delivered by spikes of sapphire. Within moments, the creatures lay motionless.
He tapped the ground once using his right boot.
A massive blue Barrier Rune he previously made flared to life, spanning the entire arena with an otherworldly glow. It shimmered like a protective dome, sealing the space within a translucent hemispherical barrier. The rain bounced harmlessly off its surface and the crowd gawked at the display of power.
Vastarael lowered his hand as he glanced upward. His face was still covered by the mask he wore. But then, he reached up and removed it.
The women in the royal box, particularly the king's daughters, gasped audibly. Their cheeks flushed as they laid eyes on him; The youngest daughter bit her lip. Her hands gripped the edge of her seat as if to steady herself. The eldest looked away but her thighs shifted uncomfortably under her gown, betraying her emotions. Even the queen, seated beside the king, found herself momentarily distracted.
Vastarael's face was a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship. His features exuded a beauty so potent it felt almost unnatural. He raised his voice. It rang out across the arena, amplified by a Sound Enhancement Rune.
"People of... this kingdom, whatever it's called. Today marks the end of this barbaric spectacle. No longer will these slaves, who you call gladiators, be forced to fight for your amusement."
The crowd murmured, but many found themselves captivated despite their unease.
"You cheer for bloodshed but do you understand the cost? Do you see the lives you've taken and the families you've destroyed? Or have you blinded yourselves to the truth? Not that I care but how sadistic are you people? I know I'm the same but at least I have my limits. You guys are messed up."
The king, sitting stiffly in his throne, glared down at Vastarael, his face dark with anger.
"Who dares disrupt this event?"
"Who am I, you ask? I am merely a prince from another land. A wanderer, if you will. But today, I am your reckoning."
The women in the audience could hardly contain themselves. Vastarael's presence was intoxicating. He turned slightly, finding Chainless in the shadows near the cages. She stood silently ready to strike. He nodded.
With the barrier in place and the creatures slain, the time for freedom had begun. And Vastarael, with his devastating smile and unshakable resolve, would lead the charge.
"So let me ask you this. What are slaves to you? Are they property? Things to be bought, sold, used and discarded? Are they tools for your amusement? Mere objects whose lives are worth less than the coins you spend to watch them bleed?"
The crowd shifted uneasily. Some murmured among themselves, while others remained silent, mesmerized by his words.
"Do they have no dreams of their own? No families waiting for their return? No right to exist beyond the walls of this cage you call an arena? Do you not see the hypocrisy in your joy? You call yourselves noble and civilized yet you sit there, dressed in silk and gold, while those you call slaves die for your entertainment. What nobility lies in that?"
The eldest of the king's daughters, unable to control herself, leaned forward in her seat. Even the youngest daughter, though bashful, could not look away.
"I'll tell you what I see when I look at these people. I see strength. Resilience. Courage. I see individuals who've endured what none of you could bear for a single day. And you dare to call them lesser? You, who sit idle while others bleed for your pleasures? At least do that to your enemies, not people from your own kingdom!"
The women, enthralled by his beauty and power, found themselves leaning forward unconsciously. Even the married women were not immune as their minds wandered to forbidden fantasies. The men, on the other hand, glared at him with jealousy. But even as envy swirled within them, they couldn't deny his words.
"I didn't come here to give you a lecture. I came here to put an end to this. But let me tell you one thing before I do. Freedom is not given. It's taken. It's claimed by those who refuse to bow down, those who refuse to be broken. And today, I will help them claim it."
The king stood abruptly but his daughters, lost in their desire, barely noticed. One of them whispered, almost inaudibly;
"He's perfect."
Vastarael, unfazed by the reactions around him, turned his attention back to the gladiators in their cages.
"To all of you who've endured, stand with me. Fight with me. And I promise you, today, the arena falls."
The rain began to pour harder as if the heavens themselves acknowledged his declaration. Vastarael stood tall, his sapphire shards hovering in the air around him. And with that single speech, he gained a new title.
The Handsome Prince of Freedom.