The blue flares overhead flickered low, casting long, swaying shadows across the dust-choked arena. Neither man moved for three full seconds. The crowd’s roar fell into a hushed, breathless rhythm—thousands waiting for the final spark.
Kaelen shifted his stance, bringing both short blades up into an X-guard. His left shoulder drooped slightly from where he’d struck the stone floor, but his eyes were bright with a raw, focused heat. “Last pass, old friend,” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the hum of the bio-luminescent lamps.
“Make it count,” Jax replied.
Jax didn’t charge this time. He advanced slowly, taking heavy, deliberate strides that forced Kaelen to yield ground toward the curved concrete wall of the pit. Driven by instinct and survival, Kaelen lunged first, darting forward like a strike-viper. He feinted low toward Jax’s compromised left knee, then leaped upward, driving both blades toward the joints in Jax’s neck armor.
Jax anticipated the trap. Instead of raising his sword to block, he threw his entire upper body forward, slamming his heavy steel breastplate into Kaelen mid-air.
The collision was brutal. Air exploded from Kaelen’s lungs as they both hit the ground, rolling through the red grit in a flurry of limbs and steel. Kaelen dropped his left dagger to jam his forearm beneath Jax’s chin, forcing Jax’s head back while digging his remaining blade down toward the gap under Jax’s shoulder guard.
Jax felt the point pierce leather and bite into skin, a sharp jolt of heat spreading down his arm. Ignoring the pain, Jax reached around Kaelen’s back, locked his fingers into the shoulder straps of his harness, and pulled with everything he had left.
With a deafening crash, Jax hauled Kaelen over and slammed him face-first into the concrete floor. Jax dragged himself up, gasping, his weapon tossed aside in the scuffle. Kaelen rolled onto his back, blood streaming from his nose, but his right hand was already coming up—his dagger aimed directly for Jax’s exposed chest.
Jax caught Kaelen’s wrist inches from his heart. The steel trembled between them, held in place by two men straining with every ounce of remaining strength. Jax put his free hand over Kaelen’s knuckles, leveraging his entire body weight onto the strike. Slowly, agonizingly, he drove Kaelen’s arm back down to the stone until the steel clattered harmlessly away.
With a final heavy thud, Jax pinned Kaelen’s arm to the floor and dropped his forearms onto Kaelen’s shoulders, immobilizing him completely.
Silence swept through the grandstands.
Kaelen stared up at the vaulted ceiling, his chest heaving under Jax’s weight. For a long moment, only their labored breathing filled the air between them. Then, Kaelen’s tension snapped, and he let out a short, wheezing laugh that turned into a cough.
“You… heavy bastard,” Kaelen wheezed, closing his eyes. “I had you on the drop.”
“You had me five minutes ago,” Jax grunted, releasing his grip and falling back onto his haunches in the sand. He offered a bloodied hand.
Kaelen looked at the hand, shook his head with a faint smile, and took it. Jax pulled him up.
The referee stepped into the ring, signaling the end of the bout, and the arena exploded into a wall of applause. Side by side, battered and limping, the two fighters turned to face the crowd, the blood on their armor shining blue under the flaring lights.
