Screaming in pain, Kiel stumbled backward, flailing his arms wildly. Nero took a few cautious steps away from his opponent, the bloodied spearhead still in his hand.
Christina and Koal were just as shocked as the rest of the crowd. Christina blinked. "He had a dagger hidden? Isn't that against the rules?" she asked, confused, since she couldn't quite make out what Nero was holding in his hand.
Koal's eyes sparkled with amazement as he shook his head and replied, "No," he muttered, "That's not a dagger, but the tip of his spear that broke off earlier. So it wasn't an accident after all."
Christina thought back to the moment when Kiel had severed Nero's spearhead. "But how did Nero pick up the spearhead without anyone noticing… Ohhhhh," she exclaimed, "When he stumbled, and Kiel flung sand at him…"
Koal nodded, "Very well observed. That must have been it. It was absolutely underhanded and treacherous, but… it was the only way to win this fight."
The rest of the crowd was now beginning to realize what had happened, and loud cheers spread through the arena. Had it been any other opponent, they would have booed at such a cheap trick, but Kiel deserved it. He had always only challenged people who were weaker and smaller, and shied away from any fair fight. For years, they had wanted to finally see him fall, one way or another.
"WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?" Kiel roared as he lashed out wildly. Blood and the remains of his eyes gushed from their sockets. Nero circled his opponent slowly, like a wolf circling its prey. The bloody spearhead in his right hand.
"Are you giving up?" he asked, his voice laced with ice-cold calculation. Kiel roared with rage as he charged toward the spot from which Nero's voice had just been heard. But Nero had already moved away, so Kiel's blows fell on nothing, like those of a madman fighting an invisible foe. "COME HERE, YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT, SO I CAN WRING YOUR NECK!"
Nero paid no heed to his opponent's roar but simply stepped back briefly, picked up Kiel's greatsword, and then approached his opponent once more. Meanwhile, Kiel roared and lashed out wildly, desperately trying to grab Nero. Nero waited patiently for his moment, which wasn't long in coming. He stepped forward and rammed the sword into the back of Kiel's knee. Kiel fell to the ground again, screaming and writhing like a toddler. "I AM KIEL!" he roared, "I AM THE CHOSEN ONE!"
Nero snorted, "You're a nobody, a good-for-nothing, a mortal idiot. You don't deserve the air you breathe!" With that, he struck Kiel's skull with full force, but with the flat side of the sword so as not to kill him.
Kiel flailed his arms as he writhed on the ground. "Are you giving up?" Nero asked one last time, but Kiel wouldn't hear of it. He threw a handful of sand at Nero, who simply stepped aside. The crowd watched the spectacle in eerie silence as Nero circled the blinded man writhing on the ground, delivering blow after blow with the blunt side of his sword.
This spectacle lasted two long minutes before Kiel twitched one last time, then collapsed unconscious.
Nero was panting heavily; he was covered in sweat from head to toe, but he was unharmed. Slowly, the adrenaline from the fight subsided, and Nero staggered, feeling immense exhaustion.
He staggered slightly; his frail human body wasn't used to exerting itself like that. The small man who had led them into the armory now ran back onto the field. First, he checked Kiel to see if he was actually unconscious or perhaps even dead. But the big man was still breathing, weakly, but clearly. After nodding in satisfaction, the man raised his hand, and a loud gong sounded again; he declared the fight over. "THE WINNER IS: NERO THE PALE ONE!" he shouted, his voice amplified by the symbol around his neck so that it echoed throughout the entire arena.
Loud shouts and cheers erupted from the crowd as they celebrated Nero's victory, but he did not react to the crowd; instead, he simply staggered toward the exit.
"He actually won!" Christina exclaimed in amazement, though she had to shout so her father could hear her over the raging crowd around them.
Koal nodded enthusiastically, "He really did! And without a single injury." He shook his head in disbelief, "Who would have expected that!"
Nero retraced his steps. As he stepped outside, he noticed that the sun had barely moved. He squinted as he realized that only about ten to fifteen minutes could have passed since he'd entered the arena. It had felt to him as if the fight had lasted for hours, but that was probably due to the adrenaline. People were already streaming out of the entrance, excitedly discussing the event with one another. Many stopped to congratulate Nero, patted him on the shoulder, and cheered enthusiastically, "THE PALE ONE! THE PALE ONE! THE PALE ONE!"
Finally, Koal, Christina, and Magrett arrived and immediately joined Nero. The crowd around him parted slightly as they made room for Koal, the second most powerful mortal in the entire camp, but above all, the people made room out of respect for him. Koal was old, yet he had made many friends in the camp; there was something else Nero couldn't quite grasp. Some of the people seemed to have more than just respect for him; they seemed submissive, like subordinates. Some exchanged furtive glances, while others analyzed the people around them as if on the lookout for enemies.
Koal was the overseer of the Second District, but his power and influence were still very limited. He couldn't introduce or abolish rules; he couldn't assign jobs, except perhaps out of his own pocket or something. He was only responsible for ensuring that the mortals in the Second District followed the rules and was allowed to impose punishments if necessary.
Nero's thoughts were interrupted when Koal slapped him on the back in congratulations. "I'm very proud of you, Nero. That was a brilliant plan—did you come up with that yourself?" he asked curiously.
Nero nodded, "I knew I couldn't beat an opponent like Kiel fair and square. So I had to come up with a plan."
"Clever!" said Koal, "But that wasn't the only impressive thing. Who taught you to fight like that?"
Nero shrugged, "I don't remember," he said, "If it comes to me, I'll let you know."
Koal looked Nero straight in the eyes. He suspected a lie, but he couldn't prove it now. And it wasn't that important to him. "Either way, you won.
As a reward, you'll get ten credits for every mortal who watched in the arena—half the admission fee—plus you'll get the bounty on Kiel, which is almost five thousand credits, since he's been undefeated for many years. On top of that, you can demand travel money from Kiel, since he was the one who forcibly challenged you. You can demand up to two thousand credits!"
Nero ran the numbers in his head. "Assuming there were about 200 spectators in the arena, does that mean my total winnings are nine thousand credits?" Koal nodded. "Roughly, but you'll get the exact figure once everything's been tallied. You still need to specify how much you want to charge Kiel, though."
Nero didn't have to think about that. "As much as possible, of course. All two thousand. I blinded him; I don't have to worry about upsetting him." Koal agreed, but then added, "I don't know if it was your plan or just luck, but it's a good thing he didn't die. Otherwise, instead of getting ten credits for each spectator, you would've had to pay twenty as a penalty. But this way, it's the perfect outcome! I can only congratulate you again!"
Nero nodded gratefully. The group continued chatting as they set off on the long journey from the Thirteenth District to the Second. The people around them went about their business as usual, diligently going about their work. The sun beat down hotly on Nero as he felt a slight twinge in his stomach. He suppressed the pain, but he couldn't help but worry. Ever since this sensation had appeared, it had steadily become a little, but unmistakably, more painful, just enough that Nero couldn't get used to it: It still wasn't bad enough to be a major bother, but it definitely caused him concern. What if it keeps getting worse? He definitely had to gather his wits and see a doctor. He looked thoughtfully at Koal—maybe he had some connections?
Finally, they arrived at Koal's estate. Nero's joints were burning by now; he needed to rest, but before he could say goodbye, a small, distressed woman came rushing toward Koal. Koal stopped when he saw the woman, who came to a halt in front of him, gasping for breath.
"Mr.…Koal…Julian…is…" the woman gasped heavily. Koal frowned, "Take a deep breath; we can barely understand you."
The woman nodded, panting; she seemed to have run quite a distance. When she'd finally caught her breath somewhat, she gasped again, "Mr. Koal, Julian is here for an audience!" she reported urgently. Koal froze instantly, his eyes widening. "Are you sure?" he asked, suddenly in a nervous tone that Nero didn't recognize in the man at all. The woman nodded, "Yes, he's waiting in the living room!"
Koal exhaled deeply, "Then we should hurry!" he said to his wife, "After all, one should never keep a magician waiting, especially not as a mortal!"