After the Quarter Sage, other solo matches ensue. Everything is a haze of red after that. My wound is patched up by an on-ground physician. But I cannot rest just yet because I still have one more match to fight.
The Pensuem.
A one-on-one match fight that is fought to the death.
Myself versus none other than Herem Rimnick.
I can barely stand, but before I know it, I am walking out of yet another portcullis. No shield in hand, only Kelan's sword to safeguard my life. All the collapsed chariots have been dumped on the fringes, in between the stagnant Watchers. All the Spartans and corpses of previous fighters have been removed, but blotches of their blood still stain the darkened ground.
Daylight fades into dusk, giving it a menacing, spectral effect.