The First Game.

***

~Katrina~

Marissa left before the dance ended. She had been called by Lord Rowland. They spoke for a while before he dismissed her. Then, he walked over to the king, and they both glanced in my direction.

I knew instantly—it was about me.

I had chosen to wear black tonight, which made me stand out. Most of the women wore gold or white with gold accents. Even the king had matched the theme, wearing a gold mask with touches of black.

Yet, here I was, dressed in defiance.

As I watched him, I found myself wondering about his mask. He used to wear plain black, but tonight, it was different—gold with hints of black.

It made him impossible to miss.

I was curious. What would happen if he removed it?

Was the mask just a statement, or did it hide something deeper? A secret, perhaps?

I wanted to know. Maybe, if we had the chance to talk later, I would ask.

Marissa returned, slipping quietly back into place.

"What did Lord Rowland want?" I asked.

"The dress, my lady," she answered. "The king wants to know why you didn't wear his gift."

I smiled. So, he noticed.

"And what did you tell him?"

"The truth. That you didn't wish to wear it." Marissa leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "The king is not happy."

I chuckled. Good.

I had wanted to send a message, and it seemed he had received it loud and clear.

Marissa returned to her seat behind me. The first game was about to begin in five minutes.

It was my first time attending one. I just hoped it would be worth it.

The crowd fell silent as Lord Rowland announced the next game.

A gladiator would face four unknown opponents, each representing the four arenas.

Beneath the black arena, a heavy iron gate creaked open. A massive warrior stepped out, moving with a confidence that sent shivers down my spine. He was built like a giant, his body covered in thick metal armor. In his hand, he held a sword so sharp it looked like it could slice through flesh with a single touch.

His opponents didn't stand a chance.

The crowd erupted into cheers as he marched to the center of the maze, then dropped to one knee before the king.

Karl gave him a nod. Permission granted.

The gladiator rose and turned, waiting for his challengers. He paced like a caged beast, restless and eager. The way he moved, the way his fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword—he was hungry for blood.

Then, suddenly, his eyes locked onto mine.

A chill ran through me. My fingers curled around the hem of my dress, gripping it tightly. Prince Elvin leaned in, his voice calm.

"You're safe," he assured me. "He can't touch you."

But fear didn't release its hold. My chest tightened. My heart pounded. It felt too familiar—too much like the prison.

Another gate opened beneath the red arena. A second warrior stepped out, dressed in white. He was smaller than the gladiator, but still strong, his body lean and built for battle.

I studied him, doubtful. Could he really stand a chance?

"This is going to be fun, Princess," Prince Elvin said, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat.

"Hopefully," I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck. But I wasn't so sure.

A massive sand clock was brought into the arena. It was larger than any I had ever seen. The timekeeper stood ready, waiting for the king's signal.

Karl gave a nod.

With that, the timekeeper flipped the sand clock, and the fight began.

Silence fell over the crowd.

The warrior in white hesitated, his body tense. He hadn't expected to face a giant.

The gladiator swung first—and missed.

The white arena erupted into cheers. Their fighter had dodged the blow, barely escaping death.

But the gladiator wasn't done. He attacked again, and this time, the warrior raised his sword just in time. The clash of metal rang through the air, making me flinch.

I held my breath, hoping the warrior could somehow outsmart his opponent and escape this nightmare.

But I wasn't sure he could.

The fight dragged on for ten minutes. The gladiator was relentless, his strength overwhelming. The warrior fought back, but it was clear—he was losing.

Then, with one powerful strike, the gladiator knocked the sword from his hands.

A deafening roar of cheers erupted from the crowd. Even those in other arenas celebrated.

I glanced at the king. He sat there, calm, completely unbothered. Enjoying this, just as Prince Elvin had said he would.

"What happens if the white arena loses?" I asked, unable to look away from the brutal scene.

Prince Elvin barely spared me a glance. He was too focused on the fight.

"You'll see soon enough," he murmured. "Just be patient."

I turned my attention back to the arena.

The warrior in white was no longer fighting. He was running.

He screamed for help, but no one moved to stop the match.

No one would save him.

It was already clear who the winner would be.

The gladiator knew how to put on a show. The crowd cheered wildly, chanting in a foreign language that only the people from Xylonia seemed to understand.

Moving with deadly speed, the gladiator lunged at the warrior and slashed his arm with his blade. Blood spilled instantly. The warrior screamed in agony, but the people only cheered louder.

I couldn't understand what was so entertaining about this. A man was fighting for his life, and no one cared.

The warrior kept running, but it was clear he was losing strength. Blood dripped from his stomach and arm, leaving a dark trail behind him. His movements slowed. His legs trembled.

Then, finally, he collapsed.

The gladiator wasted no time. He stepped forward and, in one swift motion, cut off the warrior's head.

The crowd erupted in cheers.

I sat frozen, my body cold with shock. A shiver ran through me as I watched the gladiator lift the severed head, blood dripping, and present it to the king.

Karl gave a nod of approval.

"Are you alright?" Prince Elvin's voice pulled me back to reality. He must have noticed how badly I was shaking. He turned to the women behind us. "Water."

One of them rushed forward with a cup. Prince Elvin took it and placed it in my hands.

I took a small sip, my fingers trembling. A maid took the cup back once I was done, returning to her seat.

"Thank you," I whispered, still dazed. This was the worst thing I had ever witnessed. How could they all enjoy something so cruel?

"What happens next?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Prince Elvin leaned back in his chair. "Whoever kills the gladiator will win ten thousand gold coins. It's a fortune."

I frowned. "And if no one does?"

"Then the money goes back to the king. Since the gladiators work for the crown, the king can choose to reward the gladiator with something else—something valuable, but never money."

I swallowed hard. "Does someone always have to die? Can't they just fight without all this bloodshed?"

Prince Elvin smirked. "What fun would that be?" He gestured to the roaring crowd. "Without blood, these people wouldn't be here. They wouldn't waste their money or place their bets. This is what draws them out."

I looked away, my stomach twisting.

"I see…" I murmured. Even though I saw nothing at all.

The fight resumed, and just as Prince Elvin had said, the gladiator killed the last two warriors, including the one from the Gold Arena.

I could barely stomach it. His methods were brutal—pure cruelty.

"Have you seen your man?" Prince Elvin chuckled, tilting his head toward the king.

I hesitated, then turned to look.

Karl sat still, completely unfazed. It was as if none of this affected him.

"Will he join the fight?" I asked, my eyes widening.

Karl was strong, but could he match the gladiator?

Prince Elvin smirked. "No. Only if necessary. Why? Do you want to see him fight?"

"No," I said quickly.

Prince Elvin laughed, clearly entertained. I turned back to the game, feeling uneasy.

By now, the arena was silent.

The gladiator had defeated every single warrior. He stood in the center of the blood-soaked ground, shouting for another challenger.

"Is there no man who can defeat me?" he bellowed.

No one moved. No one spoke. The whole city held its breath.

Prince Elvin suddenly stood up and called out, "Your skill is unmatched! No man walks this earth with your strength. You are the best of the best! Even my brother and I are no match for you!"

My heart dropped. What was he doing?

I grabbed his sleeve, silently urging him to sit down. No one was supposed to compare the king. Why was he calling Karl out like this?

Some people laughed—but not the Xylonians. The only ones amused were the foreigners in the Black Arena.

Lord Rowland stood abruptly and signaled for the guards to kill the gladiator.

But Karl raised his hand. Stopped them.

"You want to fight me?" His voice was calm, but I felt the weight of his words.

Slowly, he stood from his throne.

He removed his robe. Fortuna smiled softly at him, as if this was exactly what she wanted.

Why wasn't she stopping him?

The gladiator's smirk faltered. His confidence wavered as Karl descended into the arena. He stepped back.

Karl had no armor, yet he carried himself with complete certainty.

He dragged his sword across the ground as if it were heavy in his grip, but I wasn't sure if that was an act.

"You challenged your king to combat," Karl said coldly. "Now, you fight for your life."

He turned to the timekeeper.

"Turn the clock. Let the fight begin."

Prince Elvin grinned. "This is exactly what I wanted. Let the show begin!"

My chest tightened.

I wished I could stop this. If Karl got hurt, I wouldn't be able to stand it.