Forced Into Tyranny

2: Blood Bath

Rusthelm Town,
Arena Of The Den.

     "Raven Roar! Raven Roar! Raven Roar! Raven...!"
     The raucous cheers echoed through the darkened hall, heralding his arrival as he strode through the warm sand with ten toes bared. Emerging into the light, he cast a fierce gaze upon his prepared subject, ready to lead him into battle.
      The pounding of his heart echoed like the beat of a thousand war drums, filling his chest with a fierce, primal energy. The sound was loud enough to shake him to his core, but he stood his ground, unafraid. He knew that the voice of his opponent should have frightened him, but he felt nothing but the rush of anticipation. In that moment, he was transformed into a warrior; the one who'd save the Navaríans from themselves.
      Thirty seconds before the game began, a fierce energy would course through his veins, pumping like the beat of his own heart. Some called it anxiety, but he knew it for what it truly was: a thrill of anticipation that he had come to crave. This was his fate, his job, his new life - a life that had become all too familiar to him. He had grown accustomed to the brutal beatings, the blood-soaked battles, and the name that had become his own: Raven. But his true name was Hektor Damasos, a name that few remembered up there among the people, the elite, even the gods.
      Within the Arena, where the glint of Weapons and Shadows of death loomed large, he fought for food, water, and entertainment. But more than that, he fought for his very existence, knowing that every battle could be his last. Raven couldn't afford to be slain by an Insider. Himself and his friends were the unbeatable ones, the ones they called Champions. Only six remained, the last of their once-great set.
      After ten long years of fighting and surviving in the Den, he was not about to let himself be slain by Deadtalon in a mere weekly match. This opponent was nothing compared to the barbaric combatants he had faced in Rebounds, Revivals, and countless other matches. He had honed his skills to a razor's edge, mastering every technique and strategy he had learned along the way. He was a warrior, a gladiator, a true champion of the Arena. And he would not fall so easily to the likes of Deadtalon.
      This was Raven Roar, a man chosen by Balius, the god of vengeance.
      At the sound of the mighty 'Raven Roar,' the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and applause, their hands slamming together in a thunderous roar that echoed through the ages.
      There they where - Raven and Deadtalon - standing once more upon the gritty sands of the pit, surrounded by a sea of faces that looked down upon them from the towering seats that encircled the Arena. All around them, the clamor of the crowd rose up like a mighty wave, their voices blending together in a deafening roar that filled the air. And yet, despite the chaos and noise, the two combatants remained focused and undaunted, their eyes locked upon one another as they prepared to do battle once more.
      Undeterred by the scorching sun that threatened to blind him, Raven looked up, his eyes scanning the sky for the familiar pattern that he always followed.
      First, Raven would squint against the harsh glare of the sun as they barely knew the whether from their dungeon. With a fierce determination in his eyes, he'd cast his gaze upon the assembled throngs of supporters who bore his name upon their chests, their hands gripping tightly to the wooden planks. Next, he would turn his attention to the Master of Ceremonies, Pillus, a man of great power and influence who anchored the Weapons and Shadows, and spoke with the voice of the Senate on all matters relating to the game. Then, with a regal bearing, he'd cast his gaze towards the monarchs, especially the man they all called King, whose very presence commanded the awe and respect of all who beheld him. And finally, with a steely resolve, he locked eyes with his opponent, ready to do battle in a contest that would test his strength, his courage, and his very will to survive.
      Tragically, on that fateful day, Raven's opponent was none other than Deadtalon himself, and the stakes were higher than ever before, for this was a Death Realm match, where the outcome was a matter of life and death.
      Raven's lips curled into a small smile as he regarded his opponent. His eyes flickered rapidly as he studied the man before him, taking in every detail with a keen and practiced eye. "Deadtalon!" He barked out, lifting up his axe, then he tossed his corinthian helmet at him. "Bring it to me...boy!"
      The crowd went crazy with roars of laughter and a big round of applause, as Raven's words echoed across the battlefield. He knew that this was all part of the show, and he was determined to give the people what they wanted. After all, he was the number one contender on the scoreboard for the week, and he had every right to show off his skills. Even if it meant engaging in a seemingly pointless match with a no-name opponent like Deadtalon.
      Deadtalon kicked Raven's corinthian helmet aside like a mere trifle, and with a fierce growl, he raised his own high above his head. "Your head will watch me become Champion."
       Raven, however, was not so easily intimidated. With a quick shove of his shield, he deflected Deadtalon's sledgehammer and darted around him, his movements as swift and graceful as a panther on the hunt. "Too easy," he taunted, his voice dripping with derision. "You'll have to do better than that to take this spot."
      Deadtalon laughed in the face of Raven's taunts, but his mirth was short-lived. Raven was upon him in an instant, his shield slamming into Deadtalon's jaw with a resounding crack. The force of the blow sent Deadtalon reeling backwards, but Raven was not finished yet. With a fierce cry, he charged forward, his body a blur of motion as he barreled into Deadtalon's chest. The impact was brutal, and Deadtalon crumpled to the ground in a heap. Raven's name rang out through the arena with a thrilling rhythm.
      Raven raised his weapons to encourage his audience. There was no victory without supporters. Sometimes, the thought of not failing them was a reason to live.
     "Get up, Deadtalon!" He backed away. "I didn't earn my spot as Champion by messing with the Arena sand."
       Deadtalon was not one to take defeat lightly, and he rose to his feet with a fierce snarl. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his eyes blazing with a savage intensity. He screamed and didn't stop until his sledgehammer knocked Raven's elbow with a sickening crunch.
      Fuck.
      Raven staggered, his balance thrown off by the unexpected blow. For a moment, he watched in disbelief as Deadtalon reveled in his own glory, but he knew that the fight was far from over.
       The guards in charge silenced the crowd, and King Hagnon stepped forward to address the warriors. Deadtalon and Raven quickly fell into line, with Raven wincing as he set his nearly dislocated elbow.
       The warriors gawked at the King, who had failed them just as his father had before him. The Galterius family was meant to be an object of ridicule, yet the whole Thevalon Kingdom remained blind to the flaws of their sovereign. Raven could hardly blame them, for theirs was a tyranny hidden under the guise of monarchy, and everyone was forced to do as they were told. They were all expected to stay quiet simply because the King had commanded it...with a mere curl of his finger.
       King Hagnon stood up and adjusted his peplos, his eyes sailing challengingly from Raven to Deadtalon and back again. "This isn't a joke, in case you are both forgetting," he declared. "Fight like men!" The crowd erupted into applause at his words. "Fight like it's the Death Realm!" The cheers grew even louder. "Fight for your lives!" King Hagnon's voice boomed across the arena, charging the warriors at themselves.
      Deadtalon swung his weapon against Raven's back even before the King had finished sitting. Had he forgotten that they were in the Death Realm? Perhaps. Raven grimaced as he felt blood trickle down his back.
      Raven eyed the foolish Deadtalon as his nose flared. "You can do better." Raven wanted to nudge Deadtalon's leg with his knee, but Deadtalon countered with an elbow to his jaw, snatching his balance from him.
      Raven spat out blood and trained his gaze at opponent, smiling. "Fight like a man."
       "I've been doing that for years," Deadtalon boasted. "Why do you think I'm number one this week?"
       "Because Storm was weak, that is why." Raven hadn't watched the match because they weren't allowed to, but he'd fought with Storm himself in Rebuff. "I bet you even killed him by mistake."
      "Son of a whore!" Deadtalon challenged, stumping down to him.
       Raven watched and waited. He'd fought with him countless times in Regular. He knew his opponent couldn't stand surprises...he couldn't recover from them fast.
      As soon as he knew he was close enough, Raven dropped on his back, covered himself with his shield, and slid under Deadtalon. Deadtalon surely missed him and couldn't recover as fast as he'd have liked to, which was enough time for Raven to send his axe into Deadtalon's crotch from behind.
      Raven stood tall as Deadtalon fell to his knees, groaning in pain. Raven knew that he could have easily ended Deadtalon's life with a single throw of his axe, but he had a rule to never kill a man from behind. So, he chose another way. With his axe in hand, Raven circled around Deadtalon's weakened body, ready to deliver the final strike.
      Deadtalon was damned the moment Pillus and the rest thought it was okay to pair him with Raven. But in reality, it was the moment he hit number one in his rank. Raven was undefeated for a reason, and his ten years of experience were no joke. Deadtalon had only been there for three years, and in terms of skill, he was no match for Raven.
      Raven grabbed Deadtalon's chiseled jaw, lifting his face to his, and tossed his axe to the side. "I told you to fetch my corinthians if you wanted to have it," he said loudly so the quiet crowd could hear. He dug his hand into his knife patch, bringing out a small knife. "You clearly didn't mind losing your head," Raven said as he held the knife to Deadtalon's throat.
      The Larynx Axe wasn't Raven's if it didn't destroy a man just by kissing his skin.
     "Raven Roar! Raven Roar..." The crowd started again, screams and laughters of joy roaming with the wind.
     They all knew this kind of slaying; burying his knife in his opponent's throat with him on his knees. Raven wanted to surprise them, to drive them crazy again.
     The cheering grew louder and, without wasting any more breaths on Deadtalon, Raven pushed the weak man's head back and dug his knife right under his jaw. Then, he began to tear him open, dampening himself and the ground with his blood.
     "See you in Hades, Deadtalon," Raven said, marching his body to the ground.
      The smell of blood roved around the air, the screaming didn't stop. His name was in their mouths again. Raven was Roaring with pride.
      Pillus started to speak as the crowd quietened. "Raven Roar," he said with boldness, "You have made the people proud, you have made your King proud."
     Raven raised his knife with both hands and screamed in jubilation, putting on a show for the crowd. He wasn't doing any of this for the King, not even for Hagnon's father who had sat there too. This was for the people and for himself.
      Giving a final glance at Deadtalon's mortal remains, he went low, wiped his knife clean on Deadtalon's clothes and sheathed it. Then, he turned and walked away, leaving the arena behind him.
       The guards opened the gate with a creak, and Raven returned to the Den, making his way to their dungeon. Down here, they had the liberty to do whatever they wanted, except killing each other. But that didn't stop it from happening once in a while. The darkness enveloped him as he made his way through the dungeon.
      In the moment that Rumble saw him, he rolled his eyes. "Tell me Deadtalon didn't cause you any trouble?"
      Raven laughed, hanging his weapon and helmet on the nails in the armoire room inside their territory. Regular question for a Death Realm match, was he serious? "He was a stubborn arse, yet an easy kill." Raven laughed.
      Raven looked around, wondering were the rest had gone. "Where are Beast and the rest?"
      "Gone to see the new Freshbloods. I wanted to make sure you didn't die, which is why I stayed," Rumble said and Raven chuckled and faced his old friend.
     "I will only die a free man, Brother."
      Rumble received a pat on the back of his head from Raven before he was assaulted by the smell of a fresh kill around from the hands that had just touched him.
     What a deadly man the Raven was.