Marie walked down the hallway at a brisk pace, murmuring to herself, heading directly towards the training area. As a maid on duty, she should be returning to work, but she didn't seem to care. All she wanted was to get to Anton. Once she reached the training area, her eyes wandered across the arena, full of fighters preparing for the upcoming tournament. Her gaze fell upon Anton, sparring with another fighter. Well, sparring didn't seem like the right word, considering all Anton was doing was taking blows from his partner.
Anton, a man of average build in his early 20s with glasses, was unremarkable and quite average looking. Not the type you'd expect to be fighting in an arena but rather reading in a library.
Anton took another hard hit from his sparring partner and fell on his butt.
"Come on, man, how am I gonna get any better if you don't attack?" the fighter yelled at Anton.
"I'm trying, but I just can't get the hang of it," he responded.
Anton's sparring partner shook his head. "Look, man, I get that you're struggling, but you said you wanted to train, and if you're just gonna waste my time, then you need to leave."
Anton slumped his shoulders while breathing heavily.
"I know... but... if I don't... win... I'm gonna get kicked out."
His sparring partner sighed and sheathed his practice sword.
"Look, Anton, maybe fighting just isn't for you. I've seen plenty of fighters come and go over the years. But you, you're probably the worst fighter I've ever laid eyes on, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Maybe getting kicked out is the wake-up call you need."
"But I don't want to get kicked out!"
The fighter put his hands on Anton's shoulder and gave him a sympathetic look.
"Then you need to win against that new fighter."
"I'm not gonna beat her. She's a demon."
"So you're giving up?"
"No, but..."
He trailed off.
"Well, I think you've had enough training for today. So please leave so I can actually get some training done."
Anton nodded and quickly tried to leave the arena before spotting Marie.
"Oh hey, Marie."
She approached him nervously.
"What's wrong?"
Marie looked at her brother with a nervous look.
"Anton, you're fighting against Laura, right?"
He nodded.
Marie's face contorted with rage.
"Why does Roderick have to do this to you?"
"I don't know, but I promise I'll try my best. Even though I know my best won't be good enough." He chuckled in a self-deprecating manner. "Not even good enough to beat a twelve-year-old girl who's never fought before."
"Don't say that, Anton. You have to win, for both our sakes. If you lose, I'll leave too."
Anton sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"Alright, I'll do my best." Anton flashed his sister a smile and headed towards the changing room.
As Anton changed, his mind started racing. He thought about seeing his parents being devoured by a demon and how it felt like his world was ending. How badly Marie and he struggled to survive while making their way to the capital. Now they were living in luxury by comparison, but he needed to win eventually. If he couldn't win, then Roderick would throw him away because losers don't make money. And if that happened, Marie would leave with him, and they had no backup plan. Then they'd be back where they started.
He shook his head and exhaled. He balled both his hands into fists in a show of determination.
"Bring it on, demon!"
He felt a deep responsibility toward Marie, whose fate was intertwined with his own. Losing this match meant not only losing his place in the colosseum but also losing the newfound security they had worked so hard to achieve. If he failed, Marie would leave with him, and they would be back to square one.
Anton took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He reminded himself that he couldn't afford to lose. The weight of his family's tragedy and the burden of their past spurred him to push forward, to fight with every ounce of strength he could muster.
His reflection in the mirror showed a man haunted by fear and driven by desperation. The stakes were high, and the pressure was suffocating. Anton's face contorted in a mix of anxiety and determination. He muttered to himself, almost as if trying to convince himself of his resolve.
"I have to win... I have to. By any means necessary, I will win. I lost to a demon once, and I'll be damned if it were to happen again."
He felt a surge of adrenaline, a rush of defiance against the daunting odds. Anton clenched his fists, his knuckles white with tension. The fear still lingered, but he channeled it into a fiery determination to prove himself, to protect his newfound life, and to honor the memory of his parents.
He whispered a silent vow to himself, steeling his nerves for the battle that lay ahead. "I won't be a failure. I won't let my past define me. I'll fight, and I'll win."
Marie walked down the hallway at a brisk pace, murmuring to herself, heading directly towards the training area. As a maid on duty, she should be returning to work, but she didn't seem to care. All she wanted was to get to Anton. Once she reached the training area, her eyes wandered across the arena, full of fighters preparing for the upcoming tournament. Her gaze fell upon Anton, sparring with another fighter. Well, sparring didn't seem like the right word, considering all Anton was doing was taking blows from his partner.
Anton, a man of average build in his early 20s with glasses, was unremarkable and quite average looking. Not the type you'd expect to be fighting in an arena but rather reading in a library.
Anton took another hard hit from his sparring partner and fell on his butt.
"Come on, man, how am I gonna get any better if you don't attack?" the fighter yelled at Anton.
"I'm trying, but I just can't get the hang of it," he responded.
Anton's sparring partner shook his head. "Look, man, I get that you're struggling, but you said you wanted to train, and if you're just gonna waste my time, then you need to leave."
Anton slumped his shoulders while breathing heavily.
"I know... but... if I don't... win... I'm gonna get kicked out."
His sparring partner sighed and sheathed his practice sword.
"Look, Anton, maybe fighting just isn't for you. I've seen plenty of fighters come and go over the years. But you, you're probably the worst fighter I've ever laid eyes on, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Maybe getting kicked out is the wake-up call you need."
"But I don't want to get kicked out!"
The fighter put his hands on Anton's shoulder and gave him a sympathetic look.
"Then you need to win against that new fighter."
"I'm not gonna beat her. She's a demon."
"So you're giving up?"
"No, but..."
He trailed off.
"Well, I think you've had enough training for today. So please leave so I can actually get some training done."
Anton nodded and quickly tried to leave the arena before spotting Marie.
"Oh hey, Marie."
She approached him nervously.
"What's wrong?"
Marie looked at her brother with a nervous look.
"Anton, you're fighting against Laura, right?"
He nodded.
Marie's face contorted with rage.
"Why does Roderick have to do this to you?"
"I don't know, but I promise I'll try my best. Even though I know my best won't be good enough." He chuckled in a self-deprecating manner. "Not even good enough to beat a twelve-year-old girl who's never fought before."
"Don't say that, Anton. You have to win, for both our sakes. If you lose, I'll leave too."
Anton sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"Alright, I'll do my best." Anton flashed his sister a smile and headed towards the changing room.
As Anton changed, his mind started racing. He thought about seeing his parents being devoured by a demon and how it felt like his world was ending. How badly Marie and he struggled to survive while making their way to the capital. Now they were living in luxury by comparison, but he needed to win eventually. If he couldn't win, then Roderick would throw him away because losers don't make money. And if that happened, Marie would leave with him, and they had no backup plan. Then they'd be back where they started.
He shook his head and exhaled. He balled both his hands into fists in a show of determination.
"Bring it on, demon!"
He felt a deep responsibility toward Marie, whose fate was intertwined with his own. Losing this match meant not only losing his place in the colosseum but also losing the newfound security they had worked so hard to achieve. If he failed, Marie would leave with him, and they would be back to square one.
Anton took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He reminded himself that he couldn't afford to lose. The weight of his family's tragedy and the burden of their past spurred him to push forward, to fight with every ounce of strength he could muster.
His reflection in the mirror showed a man haunted by fear and driven by desperation. The stakes were high, and the pressure was suffocating. Anton's face contorted in a mix of anxiety and determination. He muttered to himself, almost as if trying to convince himself of his resolve.
"I have to win... I have to. By any means necessary, I will win. I lost to a demon once, and I'll be damned if it were to happen again."
He felt a surge of adrenaline, a rush of defiance against the daunting odds. Anton clenched his fists, his knuckles white with tension. The fear still lingered, but he channeled it into a fiery determination to prove himself, to protect his newfound life, and to honor the memory of his parents.
He whispered a silent vow to himself, steeling his nerves for the battle that lay ahead. "I won't be a failure. I won't let my past define me. I'll fight, and I'll win."
