Kinge Gerdon leaned to the side asking his son, Rafam "So how will we commence, how will the dual partners be chosen?"
Prince Rafam clapped his hands calling forward 2 servants, they held one glass bowl each, they were filled with paper cuts
"They will be chosen at random by you. The survivors may continue to the next round" replied Prince Rafam
Cages with the Vikings inside were lowered into the pit, circling the centre. Each one had a number upon it, above them mean armed with crossbows kept watch over the arena, they seated themselves in holes by the sides, awaiting the unexpected
"Ramen, self-assigned, and… number, 7!" said King Gerdon, taking a piece of paper from each pot
"Take your bets, bet on your beloved fighters here" said a boy walking between the lines
"Come here Bookie," said King Gerdon as the boy came forth kneeling to his highness "5 golden coins on the Viking slave," said the king
"I thought your highness would bet on the knight" said great reader of the Varish
"I like unexpected variables" replied King Gerdon "Do you not trust the product you brought Lord Brone?"
"No, no it is not like that at all" said Lord Brone "I am betting on the slave as well" putting 2 golden coins in the box
The majority placed theirs one the knight's side, for an armoured against a slave is no match
"I guess if the unexpected happens, we shall have ours doubled" said King Gerdon to Brone
"Yes Indeed your highness, yes indeed" replied Brone staring down the pit
The guards stepped down opening the seventh cage, he was of the normal sized ones, allowed to choose from a variety of weapons, bows, spears, axes, swords
His pick was a two-handed battle axe, it had on flat side making it almost a hammer
The knight stepped down, armoured to the brim, against a nearly naked man, with his muscles to fight off the cold steel
No hesitation in neither od their eyes, both of them stood tall
The moment the bell rang, the slave dashed forward, heavy steps pushed the ground downwards as his hands struck, a slash reaching for the moon, red sparks ignited the air
The Viking continued to strike violently, left and right, in a desperate attempt to make space, the night took his chance in a kick to the stomached
Lucky it worked, a little too well, the Slave fell knees first, griping his belly as vomit showered the grounds
His weapon fell before him as he tried to hold it in, hunger was his enemy, that is the thought that went through the nobles' minds
The knight with a grin thought "I need to finish this fast, wasting energy is going to have bad effects on me in the next rounds", sadly that thought took too long to become an action
The slave angrily snapped out of it, dragging the axe behind him, he took a long step using momentum to carry on a brutal strike forward,
The knight's shield broke apart; the axe was in the air as time slowed down
The slave gripped tightly on his axe with both hands whilst it was still in the air, he brought down that might, the knight could only reflect the thunder rage pointed at him, but the sword snapped in half. Nervous and full of fear he took the chance
The axe implanted the ground below; with the broken sword's handle he hit the slave's stomach forcing him to his knees once more
He changed the blades grip and used a thrust towards the neck, and it worked
The Viking warrior fell, trying his hardest to stop the flow of blood, with ridicules smile, the knight looked back, but he was met with weird silence
They stared him in disgust, some even whispered saying "A cheap warrior who needs trickery against a slave, he has no honour"
He started to rethink his choices, but noticing the shocked eyes staring his back he looked behind
The slave did not bleed out yet, using his last breaths he waved his axe cutting the Knight's head clean off, before falling to the side as well, giving his eyes a rest
The crowd went silent, an unexpected result came to them, both the blood hungry and the gamblers watched wide eyed, jaws low
"What are we waiting for, bring me the paper cuts!" said King Gerdon
"I guess we lost our bet your highness" said Brone as the Bookies came forth wanting to give them back their gold
"What are you doing?" asked the king
"The bets won't be accepted if neither side wins, so I came to give these back" replied the Bookie
"Did you bet on either side?" asked King Gerdon
"No your highness" replied the boy
"Then you won all of these, no one is allowed to take them back" replied the king staring the greedy lords who came wishing in so
"In fact, I wish to bet on the next round so wait here," said King Gerdon
The glassy pots were brought forward to him, picking a paper from each he spoke "The hammer, and… Number 9!"
The caged warrior was a boy, not too thin nor was he huge, he picked a needle like sword, sharp head shiny steel, small handle, moves like a feather
The knight who stepped down was a two-handed hammer warrior, he looked like a moving mountain, no holes except for where he took breath and sight
He was as big as the Viking before him, staring the boy down, ignorant of such a choice
"This fight is not going to last that's a for sure," said Lord Brone
"I wish it does" replied King Gerdon "I would like to see how fast Viking's ran on closed fields"
"Do you not wish the unexpected here?" said lord Brone
King Gerdon thought for a second then said "A heart attack would be nice"
The bell rang, the hammer knight pushed forward with pointy heads side, he waved from his left with both hands, the Viking underneath the hit, swiftly his needle danced around the knight's arm going towards the only entrance there is,
A strike to the eye reached the centre of the skull, the armoured rock fell on its face
People watched the blood pool below, but the artist looked up searching amongst the crowds, his gaze met the smiling king's, unfazed, it wasn't a mockery, but the king had a slight thought of it being a treat
With a cold tone the king not removing his eyes from the slave's King Gerdon said "Bring me the jar"