Start of Battle Royale [part 2]
**The Arena of the Ryushin Colosseum**
The Colosseum opened up before us like a ravenous beast, ready to devour anything that dared to enter.
The arena was a vast ocean of sand, illuminated by green flames that licked the perimeter walls.
These flames seemed alive, slithering along the ancient stones, casting dancing shadows that transformed the environment into a theater of fear and despair.
The walls of the Colosseum towered like stone giants, carved with images of ancient battles, mythical creatures, and faces twisted in eternal screams of agony.
Every detail told stories of death, suffering, and triumph, as if the place itself was soaked in the blood of those who had fallen there.
The stands, packed with a mass of spectators, vibrated with the excitement of the crowd.
Their faces were a mixture of ecstasy and cruelty, eyes gleaming with a bloodlust that only violence could satiate.
A pungent odor lingered in the air, a mix of sweat, sand, and rusted metal, with a subtle undertone of death.
The sandy floor of the arena was scarred with deep trenches, left by past battles, stained a dark red that spoke of shattered lives and spilled blood.
Amid the sand, remnants of old fights surfaced: fragments of bones, pieces of rusted armor, and broken weapons.
Every step stirred small clouds of red dust, which mingled with the suffocating heat of the flames.
At the center of the arena, massive chains hung from the ceiling, some broken, others still attached to rusted hooks that once held beasts or men destined for a brutal end.
These chains swayed slightly to the rhythm of the drums, as if the arena itself was breathing, ready to welcome another massacre.
The air was thick, almost tangible, carrying with it the muffled sounds of past screams, echoes of despair that blended with the roars of the current crowd.
It seemed that the Colosseum had a soul of its own, an ancient creature thirsty for violence, feeding on the fear and flesh of the combatants.
As we advanced toward the center of the arena, the sand beneath my feet seemed almost to move, as if it were alive, ready to drag anyone into its deadly embrace.
The heat of the flames, so close that it made the air tremble, licked at my armor, reflecting off the luminous cracks that pulsed like an evil heart, fueling the dark power that boiled within me.
The other participants arranged themselves in a circle, each with their eyes fixed on their opponents, measuring the distance and waiting for the right moment to strike.
There was no room for fear or hesitation; only the desire to survive.
The crowd's screams grew louder and louder, a deafening noise that penetrated the mind, making it impossible to think clearly.
But I didn't need to think.
My body was ready, my senses sharpened by the tension and the dark power stirring inside me.
My sword hung at my side, an extension of my will, ready to unleash death and destruction on anyone who dared to challenge me.
The Ryushin Colosseum was not just an arena; it was a killing field, a theater where souls were torn apart and consumed.
The audience knew it, the participants knew it, and now I knew it too.
But unlike the others, I was not here just to survive. I was here to dominate, to show the world the destructive power that lurked within me, a power that would turn this battlefield into my kingdom.
The sand, the flames, the screams.
Everything was ready for Ragnarok.
**The Commentator and the Bets**
The crowd's screams briefly subsided as the commentator, a man with a proud demeanor and a powerful voice, climbed onto a raised platform, visible from every corner of the Colosseum.
His dark red cloak billowed slightly in the warm wind, and the smile that spread across his face was that of a predator savoring its next meal.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" he exclaimed, his voice booming, making the air around him vibrate.
"Welcome to this spectacle of blood and glory! Tonight, the Ryushin Colosseum will bear witness to an epic battle, a Battle Royale that will shake the foundations of this ancient arena!"
The crowd responded with a roar of approval, cheering the start of the long-awaited spectacle.
The commentator waited for the noise to die down slightly before continuing.
"Before you start placing your bets, allow me to introduce the participants who will face off in this unforgettable night!"
He turned toward the group of fighters arranged in a circle in the arena, raising an arm in a gesture of presentation.
"On this side," he said, pointing to the ebony-skinned colossus with muscles carved like stone, "we have a force of nature, a war machine that has already wiped out countless opponents! His weapons are as deadly as the arcane tattoos that adorn his body! Ladies and gentlemen, who will bet on this titan who will crush his enemies like walnut shells?"
The audience erupted in cheers, and some immediately began shouting their bets, placing their faith in the colossus with almost blind confidence.
The commentator let the frenzy build for a moment before turning his attention to another fighter.
"And here, straight from the shadows themselves, we have 'Serpent'! A name that strikes fear into anyone who knows it. Fast as lightning, lethal as venom! This silent assassin has honed his skills to take down his opponents before they even realize they're in danger. Who among you is brave enough to bet on this deadly serpent in the sands?"
Once again, the crowd reacted with enthusiasm, the bets multiplied, and the bookmakers scrambled to collect the wagers.
Finally, the commentator paused theatrically, allowing the silence to intensify as he focused his gaze on me.
The tension was palpable, the moment charged with expectations. With a dramatic gesture, he raised both arms toward me.
"And finally," his voice dropped, becoming a whisper that nevertheless reached every corner of the arena, "we have Ragnarok! A warrior shrouded in darkness, his armor seems forged in the very heart of hell! Look, ladies and gentlemen, at the destructive power hidden beneath that mask, an unstoppable force that could turn this arena into his own personal kingdom of terror and destruction!"
The crowd was in a frenzy, some impressed by the terrifying appearance, others drawn by the mystery of the name that evoked the end of all things.
Bets were flying in every direction, each person trying to predict who would emerge victorious from this bloody massacre.
The commentator, satisfied that he had ignited the crowd's excitement, turned to the participants, his eyes gleaming with a sinister satisfaction.
"Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen, because tonight only one will claim victory! May the gods have mercy on the losers, for here in the Ryushin Colosseum, mercy is not contemplated!"
The crowd roared once more, the excitement now turned to fever as money changed hands, and all eyes were fixed on the arena, ready to see who would draw the first blood.
As the sound of bets subsided, the steel doors at the ends of the arena began to close slowly, sealing off every escape route. The commentator raised his voice again.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen... let the Battle Royale begin!"
A chilling silence fell over the arena, interrupted only by the sound of drums that resumed their beat, the prelude to a massacre.