High in their respective boxes overlooking the red stone arena, Zarekh and Zarakhim watched the spectacle with different kinds of intensity. Zarekh, a glass of wine in hand, projected a feigned confidence, but his fingers were white where they gripped the railing. Zarakhim, however, smiled, sure of his victory, his eyes gleaming with voracious anticipation.
A roar rose from the stands as Brannok emerged into the harsh light. The copper armor made him gleam like an idol. He paused for a moment, letting the crowd acclaim him, then he bent down. In an almost ritualistic gesture, he scooped up a handful of fine sand and let it flow through his fingers, absorbing the texture, feeling the dry earth. It was a predator's habit, grounding himself in his territory.
Then, he raised his heavy copper shield and his Roman-style sword, short and heavy. He slammed them together in a metallic crash that momentarily drowned out the screams.
"Approach, big ape!" he shouted, his voice carrying strangely across the arena, tinged with a calm challenge.
Across the way, Barrock, agitated by the taunt and the noise, beat his apish chest with his enormous fists. With a grunt that was utterly inhuman, he charged. He was a bulldozer of flesh and muscle, his arms raised like tree trunks to crush Brannok.
The impact was brutal. Barrock slammed into the shield head-on. The metal groaned, but Brannok, digging his feet into the sand, did not yield. The muscles in his legs and back rippled under the impact, and with magnificent strength, he deflected the charge, sending the giant stumbling past him.
Brannok seized the opening, thrusting quickly with his sword, aiming for Barrock's exposed abdomen.
CLANG!
The sound that rang out was not of pierced flesh, but of metal striking an unnaturally hard surface. The blade barely bit, deflected by skin that seemed like toughened leather and muscles so dense they were almost petrified. Only a weeping scratch appeared.
A wave of surprise swept through the crowd. Brannok himself took a step back, his grey eyes widening for a fraction of a second at the discovery.
A coarse, victorious laugh erupted from Zarakhim's box.
Ignoring it all, Brannok met Barrock's bestial gaze. The giant seemed to have barely felt the sting. A cold smile twisted Brannok's lips. It wasn't a smile of fear, but of excitement. The challenge had just escalated.
"This," he murmured, more to himself than his adversary, "is going to take a little longer."
The real fight had begun.