The metallic sound of the last spear falling outside the arena echoed through the coliseum. Kyrian was breathing calmly even after defeating, alone, forty-nine opponents. He would be the only one from his arena.
For him, there was no difficulty, his strength, speed, technique, and fighting experience were superior. And with his eyes, there was no point where they could attack him without him noticing.
But during the fight, Kyrian was not relaxed. In fact, his brow was slowly furrowing. Something was completely wrong and out of place.
While the crowd screamed for the 'brat,' his instincts, with his vision sharper than anyone else's, noticed what was happening around him.
When he had already defeated half of his opponents, he noticed two young men approaching his arena after leaving theirs without even fighting, even though they could have easily won.
The two, who were at the first level of martial artist, were walking toward his arena as if they were waiting for something.
