For all who watched the clash between Halo and Helios, silence fell. Not even the roar of the coliseum could mask the chill that crawled down every spine. Halo's scream of fury wasn't just anger, it was something deeper, something broken. Helios stood steady, his gaze fixed on his rival. There was no pride in his victory, no joy in bringing the coliseum to its feet. Instead, he felt pity. Halo wasn't a monster, not truly. He was drowning. Rage was only the mask, grief the true weight shackled around his heart. He's lost in himself, Helios thought. His strength is real, but it's been twisted by his sorrow. I can't let him fall like this. I won't let a warrior of his caliber destroy himself. Across the arena, Halo staggered forward, his chest heaving, spittle foaming at his lips. His eyes, wild, bloodshot, saw nothing but Helios. No crowd, no overseer, no world beyond the target in front of him. His grief had become fury, and fury had become blind obsession. With a guttural roar, Halo surged forward, his body trembling with unrestrained violence, sword clenched tight. He was no longer fighting to win, he was fighting to consume, to erase. Helios lowered into stance, gripping his blade with both hands, his expression calm yet firm. So be it, he told himself. I'll end this madness… and bring him back to his senses. Halo swung down with his blade, mana shrieking along the steel, but Helios was already ahead, his body had adapted to Halo's rhythm. With calm precision, Helios caught the strike, letting the blade slide off to the side, twisting his stance into a perfect counter. But Halo was fast, already slipping away. Helios didn't hesitate. His sword left his hand like a spear, cutting through the air toward Halo. With a grunt, Halo batted it aside, forcing it from his sight, only to feel the suffocating surge of mana behind him. Helios appeared like a phantom, fist crashing into his liver. The blow sank deep, wringing the air from Halo's lungs. Pain rippled through his body, but still he stood, refusing to stagger. He snarled and tried to unleash Whistling Iron, but Helios was too close. His hand snapped up, seizing Halo's wrist. With one brutal wrench, bone gave way with a sharp crack, the sword tumbling helplessly from his grip. "GhHH!" Halo choked, but Helios didn't relent. He yanked Halo forward, channeled every drop of mana into his fist, and buried it into his gut. The impact crushed the breath from him, vomit spilling from his lips as his body convulsed. Helios kept going. A jab to the jaw. A hook to the ribs. A hammering blow to the stomach. A strike to the temple that made Halo's vision blur. Each hit was deliberate, merciless, perfection laced with brutality. Then Helios leapt, twisting his body in the air, mana sparking around his frame. "Time to sleep." His heel came down in a spinning arc, smashing into Halo's skull. The gladiator reeled, nearly toppling. But Halo roared, wild and unbroken. His hand lashed out, seizing Helios by the leg. "RRRRAAHHHH!" He slammed Helios into the ground with monstrous force, stone cracking beneath the impact. Again. And again. The arena shook with each strike, the audience howling in disbelief. Again. And again. The arena shook with each strike, the audience howling in disbelief. But even as Helios's body hit the ground, he forced himself to move, twisting mid-slam to lessen the impact. Blood ran down his chin, but his eyes burned with focus. On the fourth slam, Helios drove his fist into the floor, stopping his body from bouncing, and used the recoil to whip his free leg upward. His heel smashed into Halo's jaw, staggering him back a step. Helios ripped himself free, rolling across the dirt before launching forward. His fists blurred, battering Halo's ribs and chest in a relentless barrage. Halo absorbed each blow like a beast, spitting blood and snarling, his own fists lashing out with equal fury. The coliseum roared as the two collided, bone against bone, flesh against flesh, neither willing to back down. Helios ducked under a wild swing, driving a knee into Halo's gut, then a hook across his face. Halo staggered but roared again, surging with what looked like endless rage. He caught Helios by the shoulder, slamming his forehead into his skull, dazing him. Helios stumbled, vision flashing, but his instincts screamed. He dropped low, swept Halo's legs, and as his rival buckled, Helios hammered his fist across his ribs with bone-cracking force. Halo spat crimson, but instead of falling, he tackled Helios outright, dragging him into the dirt. The two rolled, fists flying, neither caring for defense. Blood smeared across the sand as the crowd lost their minds, some screaming Helios's name, others chanting for Halo. But then, something changed. Halo's swings slowed. His body, once trembling with rage, now shook with exhaustion. His punches lost their bite. His breathing was ragged, wet, strained. Still, his eyes burned with hatred, but his body could no longer keep pace. Helios shoved him off, rising to his feet. Halo tried to follow, tried to lift his fists once more, but his legs gave out beneath him. He dropped to his knees, wheezing, foam spilling from his lips. He clawed at the dirt as if sheer willpower could keep him standing, but his body had reached its breaking point. And then, with one final roar of defiance, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed forward into the sand. Out cold, not defeated by Helios's hand, but by the storm of his own grief and overexertion tearing him apart. The overseer and the hooded figure ran into the arena to check on Halo. The coliseum erupted in cheers, half in awe, half in disbelief. Helios stood above his fallen rival, chest heaving, blood dripping from his face. He didn't smile. He didn't raise his hands. He only stared down at Halo, pity in his eyes. People left the coliseum in awe, their voices echoing through the stone halls and spilling into the streets. What they had witnessed wasn't just a match, it was a clash carved into memory. Mothers clutched their children close, while those very children mimicked the strikes in the air, shouting out the words Halo had bellowed in his frenzy. His rage, his madness, his will, it would haunt them, inspire them, terrify them. It was a true display of warriors who had put everything on the line, not for money, not for spectacle, but for something deeper. Honor. Strength. Pride. Some swore they had seen Helios's body move faster than human eyes could track. Others whispered that Halo was no mere man at all, but a demon caged in flesh, his fury something born from the abyss. But everyone agreed on one thing: never again would they forget this duel. The arena still reeked of sweat, blood, and dust, yet in the silence left behind, it felt holy. As though the ground itself remembered every strike, every roar, every ounce of willpower the two had poured into the sand. And in the shadows of the emptying stands, Helios stood alone, watching as Halo's unconscious body was carried away. His fists were still trembling, not from fear, not from exhaustion, but from the weight of understanding. He had won, but victory was hollow. Halo wasn't his enemy. He was a man drowning in grief. Helios exhaled, exhaustion clinging to him like the sweat on his skin. A towel hung loose around his neck, his clothes torn and stained with blood and dust. Every muscle in his body screamed, but what truly grated on him was the sight in front of him. Bow sat cross-legged on a crate, happily munching on a skewer of roasted meat, a pile of empty plates already beside him. He looked as if the world was perfectly at peace. Helios stopped dead in his tracks, glaring. "Bow… are you really eating right now?" Bow glanced back, cheeks puffed like a squirrel mid-bite. His eyes lit up. "OOH, HEY! Haven't seen you all morning. Where've you been? You look a little, uh…" he gestured vaguely at Helios's ruined state, "...messed up." Helios pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Are you kidding me? I was just FIGHTING. In the ARENA. Did you seriously not know?" Bow froze mid-chew, then coughed, choking on his food. "Wait, what? You were?! Since when?!" "It was a last-minute thing," Helios said flatly, dropping onto a nearby bench. "I had to fight Halo." Bow's jaw dropped, grease still on his lips. "NO WAY! Halo?! DUDE, agh, that sucks! I should've gone and seen it!" Helios just stared at him, towel pressed against his face.
"Unbelievable…" he muttered. Bow leaned forward eagerly, food forgotten. "So, c'mon, tell me, how bad did you mess him up?" Helios lowered the towel just enough to show the faintest smirk. "Bad enough." Later that day at the infirmary it was quiet, the torches dim and flickering. Halo lay bandaged, his breaths shallow but steady, locked in uneasy sleep. Slowly, his eyelids began to twitch, then lift. His vision blurred at first, shapes swimming in the dark. But as his eyes adjusted, the haze cleared. Someone was there. A hooded figure stood at his bedside, silent and still, watching. Halo's breath caught in his throat. The hooded man lowered his hood, his gaze locking onto Halo's eyes. "Halo… today was the first time I saw you fight with everything you had." Halo looked away, shame and disappointment written across his face. "I… I'm sorry, Father. I lost. I'll never be as strong as Gideon. I failed as a warrior. I've lost everything, even my title as champion. I'm nothing but a failure." Gently, his father lifted Halo's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. "No, Halo. You fought brilliantly today. All your past victories… they weren't truly strengthening you, they only stroked your ego. Today, you learned. Today, you fought harder than ever before." Halo's eyes widened, uncertainty and hope warring in them, as his father continued. "To be honest, I should never have compared you to your brother. You two are completely different people. I regret my pride, my harsh words, my insults. I thought you were dishonoring my pride, our family's honor… but it was my pride that bound me. I loved you too much to see the path you were taking. Your reckless ways made me angry, and I thought that comparing you to Gideon would steer you straight. It only fueled the fire. I see that now." He placed a firm, loving hand on Halo's shoulder. "I am sorry, Halo. You are a wonderful son, and today… today you performed magnificently." Halo's father's eyes softened as he studied Halo's bruised, exhausted form. "Halo… I've watched you today. I've seen the fire in your soul, the skill, the strength, but more importantly, I've seen the part of you that can still grow." Halo's chest heaved, pride and shame warring within him, but he didn't speak. His father continued, voice steady and firm, yet tinged with warmth: "There's someone… a warrior, Helios. You've fought him, and you've felt his power. That encounter, every strike, every movement, you've glimpsed what true rivalry can teach. Strength alone does not make a man great. Wisdom, discipline, restraint… and understanding oneself, that is how a warrior becomes legendary. And Helios… he can push you to reach that." Halo's eyes flickered, a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Travel with him," his father said softly, leaning closer. "Learn from him. Test yourself against him, grow alongside him. Become his equal, or even surpass him. Not for glory, not for the crowd, not for pride, but for yourself. For the man you are meant to be. Only then will you understand what it truly means to be strong, and only then can your rage and grief be tempered into purpose." He placed a firm hand on Halo's shoulder. "This is your chance to stop being lost in your anger. To stop being a prisoner of your own pride. Go to him, Halo. Let him shape you, challenge you, make you more than you are today. You will not only become a better warrior, you will become a man worthy of your own name." Halo blinked, the words sinking deep. A slow, heavy breath left him. Somewhere in the shadows of his defeat, a spark had been lit, one that could only burn brighter alongside the one who had bested him: Helios.