Phil's voice boomed out, strained but jubilant:
"Next up, folks, we've got a real special matchup! On one side — the spear-wielding warrior from… where again… ahh, who cares from the north, Helga! And on the other — the one, the only, the walking monologue himself, the Grim Avenger!"
A hush fell, just for a breath, before the roar returned, louder than before.
Helga marched out, spear in hand, shoulders squared. Her eyes, sharp and focused, cut across the arena like steel. She twirled the spear once, a controlled motion meant more for herself than the crowd.
Across from her, the Grim Avenger emerged from shadow as though born from it, his armor black and glossy, his cape fluttering behind him. He raised his longsword in salute, then lowered it with a flourish.
"Behold!" he cried, voice echoing. "The lady warrior approaches, her spear thirsting for justice, her heart steeled for the test! Yet she shall fall — for the Avenger accepts all challenges, and none shall triumph over his endless crusade!"
The crowd erupted with laughter and cheers. Helga didn't so much as blink.
The gong rang.
Helga lunged first, her spear darting like a silver streak. The Avenger slid sideways, cloak swirling, narrating as he moved:
"A thrust! A vicious bite of steel — and yet, the Avenger sidesteps, a shadow in daylight, untouchable!"
His sword slashed in a horizontal arc. Helga parried with the shaft of her spear, the clash ringing like a bell. She shoved forward, driving the spearpoint toward his chestplate. He twisted, kicked off the ground, and fired a bolt from the crossbow mounted on his gauntlet.
The arrow hissed past her cheek, leaving a stinging cut.
Helga didn't flinch. She spun, spear sweeping low to sweep his legs. He vaulted over it, laughing.
"The dance continues! Her form is relentless — but the Avenger's saga is endless!"
The crowd roared again, some shouting for Helga, others chanting the Avenger's name.
For minutes, they exchanged blow after blow — spear ringing off sword, crossbow bolts deflected by quick twirls. Dust clouded the air. The crowd leaned forward with every impact.
Helga pressed, her spear jabbing in a flurry of precise thrusts. She managed to nick his shoulder, scraping armor. The Avenger staggered back a step, then dramatically slapped the spot.
"Blood drawn! A crimson mark upon my tale! But beware — for every wound only fuels the vengeance yet to come!"
He surged forward, blade crashing down. Helga caught it on her spear — but the steel groaned, cracked. His next strike shattered it in half, wood splintering in her hands.
The crowd gasped.
Helga stared at the broken weapon. The Avenger raised his sword skyward.
"Behold! Her weapon shattered, her hope crumbling — the Avenger stands triumphant!"
Helga tossed the fragments aside and rolled her shoulders. She cracked her knuckles, her stance shifting. No more distance. No more reach.
The Avenger tilted his head. "Unarmed? Brave, but foolish—"
Helga exploded forward, bare hands blurring. Her elbow smashed against his chestplate with enough force to make him grunt. She followed with a low kick, hooking behind his knee, then twisted into a grappling lock that nearly wrenched his arm.
The crowd roared anew, half in shock, half in thrill.
"She fights with fists!" someone shouted.
Helga slammed a knee into his gut, followed by a snapping kick to the side of his helmet.
The Avenger staggered back, his narration faltering. "A— a brutal strike! An unexpected… ah—counter!"
Helga pressed, drawing from every style Tempest had drilled into her — Krav Maga's vicious knees, Karate's precision kicks, Jiu Jitsu's joint locks, Muay Thai's elbows. She flowed between them seamlessly, a storm of disciplined violence.
For the first time, the Avenger was on the defensive.
Brutality
But he wasn't finished.
Snarling, he lashed out with his sword, the edge slicing across Helga's arm. Blood spattered the dust. She gritted her teeth, ignored the sting, and lunged again.
An arrow sank into her shoulder, shallow but burning. She ripped it free with a hiss and hurled it back at him. He swatted it aside, voice rising:
"Even wounded, she presses! But the Avenger does not falter — no, never!"
Helga's knee drove into his chest again. He countered with a kick that slammed her onto the ground. Dust filled her lungs. Pain flared in her ribs. She rolled, avoiding his sword as it plunged where she'd lain.
She spat blood, forced herself up, and answered with a brutal hook to his helmet that rang like thunder.
Both staggered. Both bled. The fight had gone past spectacle into raw survival.
The Grim Avenger raised his sword high, voice booming through ragged breaths:
"This is the finale! The Avenger unleashes his storm!"
He fired a flurry of arrows, then charged with a spinning, sweeping strike meant to end it.
Helga ducked beneath the arrows, some grazing her skin. She twisted into his charge, caught his arm mid-swing, and locked it tight. A joint snap echoed. His sword wrenched from his hand, clattering to the floor.
Helga didn't stop. She slammed him down with a hip throw, drove her knee into his chestplate, and hammered her elbow into his helmet again and again until the steel dented.
The Avenger gasped, voice faltering:
"A desperate… finale…! The warrior… triumphs…"
Helga raised a fist, trembling, then stopped just short. Her bloodied knuckles hovered over his visor.
"Yield," she rasped.
The arena went silent.
The Avenger lay pinned, then let out a long, dramatic sigh.
"…Very well. The Avenger… concedes this chapter of his saga."
The crowd erupted, a thunderous cheer shaking the walls.
Victory
Phil shouted above the din. "Helga wins! By gods, what a fight!"
Helga pushed herself off, chest heaving, blood dripping down her arm. She staggered, nearly fell, but caught herself.
The Grim Avenger sat up, his helmet dented, his armor battered. He raised one hand toward her, then to the crowd, as though saluting the tale itself.
The crowd chanted her name.
Helga gave them only a short nod before limping toward the exit, every step heavy. She'd won — barely. But she'd won.
Behind her, the Grim Avenger's voice echoed faintly as he was helped up:
"Thus ends this duel — but fear not, for the Avenger's saga shall never end…"
The Colosseum shook with cheers, the memory of their brutal, unforgettable clash carved forever into its stones.