The torches blazed against the damp walls of the cave, throwing jagged shadows across the crowd now gathered in a twisted circle. The makeshift arena was carved out of stone and blood—its floor a tapestry of dried crimson. The air was thick with sweat, ale, and death.
Rudra stepped into the pit, his eyes burning not just with anger, but vengeance. Across from him, Varric Grimore stretched, cracking his neck and flexing his knuckles like a man eager to break bones.
Varric's voice oozed amusement. "You look too clean, little rat. Let me fix that."
He charged like a beast loosed from a chain. Rudra barely ducked the first swing—a brutish hammer-fist aimed to split his skull. The air whooshed past his ear. He spun under Varric's arm and countered with a sharp elbow to the ribs. It landed, but Varric didn't even flinch.
"That all you got, Shadow Boy?"
Varric grabbed Rudra by the collar and slammed him into the stone wall. The cave shook. Blood burst from Rudra's lip. Varric drew back his fist—no finesse, just raw violence—and slammed it again into Rudra's gut. A sickening crunch. Rib, maybe two.
Rudra coughed blood but grinned. "I thought you'd hit harder."
He planted both feet into Varric's chest and pushed off, flipping backward, landing with a thud. Then he was a blur—knees, elbows, palms, like Alex had trained him. He struck Varric's jaw, throat, and temple in a combo fast enough to slice wind.
Varric stumbled.
"Now we're talking!" Varric laughed, blood dribbling from his mouth.
He roared, grabbed a broken chair leg from the crowd and charged. The weapon whistled through the air as Varric swung like a madman. Rudra ducked, but not fast enough—the wooden stake grazed his shoulder, tearing fabric and skin. He hissed but didn't fall.
Rudra's eyes narrowed. "You're done."
He darted in, sweeping Varric's legs. The brute hit the floor hard. Rudra mounted him, fists raining down—nose, teeth, eye socket. The crowd screamed, but Varric didn't beg. He laughed through the blood.
"You're too late... she's already gone."
That stopped Rudra cold. One second of hesitation.
Varric headbutted him. Skull to skull. Rudra reeled back, dazed. Varric tackled him into the mud. He bit Rudra's arm. Flesh tore. Rudra screamed and punched Varric in the temple until he let go.
Then Rudra remembered Alex's teaching: brutality isn't rage—it's control.
He exhaled. Focused.
One step, two—he flipped over Varric's back and locked his arm around Varric's throat in a rear choke. Varric thrashed, tried to bite again, but Rudra squeezed harder. His vision blurred. His grip never loosened.
Varric's body jerked, slowed—
But suddenly, he roared back to life.
Varric licked the blood from his knuckle with a sick grin. "You're quick, brat... but don't be that quick. It's just started."
Without warning, Varric feinted left, then vanished from sight, only to appear above Rudra with monstrous speed.
Rudra's eyes widened—too late.
Crack! Varric's knee slammed into Rudra's shoulder, forcing him to the ground like a hammer driving a nail. Before Rudra could roll away, Varric straddled his chest, pinning him down with the weight of a seasoned predator.
"Now die slowly, little shadow."
Varric's fists became a blur.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Twenty punches—maybe more—all in a blink. Each blow slammed into Rudra's face, his ribs, his jaw. Blood sprayed with every hit, splattering the stone beneath them. The sheer ferocity of the assault made even the most bloodthirsty bandits flinch.
Rudra's vision blurred, ringing filled his ears. His consciousness teetered at the edge of collapse, yet something deep inside him—the fire that never died—held on.
"Still breathing?" Varric growled, his breath ragged. He grabbed Rudra by the collar, lifting his bruised face. "You bastards from Division 7 always think you're gods. Let me remind you... you bleed like the rest of us."
Rudra coughed blood into Varric's face and chuckled hoarsely. "And you... talk too much."
BOOM! Using the last ounce of his strength, Rudra drove his forehead into Varric's nose, shattering it with a sickening crunch. Varric roared in rage and staggered back, clutching his face.
Gasping, Rudra rolled to his side, using the moment to recover, spitting blood as he wiped his eyes clear.
"You're strong, Varric," Rudra muttered, slowly rising. "But I've fought monsters in my dreams more terrifying than you."
Rage twisted Varric's face. "Then let me become your nightmare."
He charged again—
But this time, Rudra didn't back down.
Blood dripped from Rudra's brow. His face was bruised, his lips swollen, but he stood—barely. The arena was silent now, every thug watching with bated breath. Even Grave narrowed his eyes, sensing something shift in the boy.
Varric, wiping the blood from his broken nose, snarled like a beast. "You don't know when to die."
Rudra raised his fists. "I can't die... Not yet."
Varric lunged again, throwing a heavy right hook. Rudra ducked, then countered with a sharp elbow to Varric's gut—crack—a rib gave way. Varric grunted and swung again, but Rudra caught his arm mid-air and twisted.
"You know nothing... about pain!" Rudra yelled, driving his knee into Varric's thigh and sweeping him off his feet.
They both crashed to the ground, but Rudra was already on top this time.
"You took Lily..." He drove a punch into Varric's jaw. "You hurt innocent people..." Another punch, harder. "You laughed while others screamed..." CRACK! A brutal hook to the temple.
Rudra grabbed Varric by the collar, panting. "And years ago… people like you murdered Patric—the son of my captain. Alex never smiled after that day. I watched the light die in his eyes… You people took that from him."
Varric spat blood, still grinning. "You think... your pain makes you special?"
Rudra's eyes narrowed, dead serious. "No... but it makes me dangerous."
BOOM! Rudra slammed his fist into Varric's face again. And again. And again. A rhythm of vengeance. The crowd flinched. Even Grave leaned forward in silence.
Rudra didn't stop. Tears mixed with blood. Not for himself—but for Alex, for Lily, and for every innocent soul twisted and broken by the Mountain Leopards.
Finally, Varric's head dropped back—unconscious, broken, beaten. His face was unrecognizable, a mask of blood and pain.
Silence. Then gasps. Then… chaos.
Rudra stood over him, body shaking. His hands were raw, skin torn, but he didn't fall.
He looked up at Grave, breathing heavily, eyes blazing.
"Your turn."
Varric's body hit the ground like a broken statue. Limbs twisted, nose shattered, jaw hanging slack. The once-proud vice commander of the Mountain Leopards now lay in a pool of his own blood and spit.
Rudra stood over him—chest heaving, fists trembling, his own blood dripping onto the cold cave floor. The silence in the cavern was deafening. The jeering crowd had gone still, eyes wide, mouths shut.
Even Grave, still seated on his throne, leaned forward—his wicked grin faded into something unreadable. For a second, just a second, the devil in the man blinked.
Elendro, still being held by two guards, could only whisper, "He… he did it."
Rudra didn't speak. He didn't raise his fists in victory. He just turned—face bloodied and bruised—and locked eyes with Lily, still trapped in the iron cage. She looked at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. The child's small hands clutched the bars, but for the first time, there was hope in her eyes.
Rudra took one step forward… then two… and collapsed to his knees.
Exhaustion crashed over him like a wave. But even as his arms wobbled, he whispered under his breath:
"I'm not done… not until she's safe."
Grave slowly rose from his throne, slow claps echoing through the cavern.
Grave: "Bravo… that was quite the show, boy. Varric was a monster. But you? You're something else." He smirked, dark and dangerous. "Tell me… where does all that fire come from?"
Rudra looked up, eyes still burning through the haze of blood and pain.
"From the dead," he said. "And I'm not done making you join them."
Guards tensed. The crowd shifted.
Elendro broke free in that moment, rushing toward Lily's cage. He dropped to his knees, trying to unlock the door.
Rudra slowly stood again—wounded, yes, but unbroken.
The fight with Varric was over, but in this dark place—this den of devils—the war had just begun.