Four years had passed since I woke up in this world, and in that time, I had changed a lot. The harsh life of the arena had shaped me, hardened me, and forced me to become stronger just to survive. I wasn't the weak, scared kid who had been thrown into the coliseum that day. I had fought, bled, and endured more pain than I thought possible. But I was still standing.
Over the years, I had secretly trained my magic, hiding my abilities from the guards and soldiers who watched over us. Using my knowledge from both Magi and science, I had managed to develop my own way of manipulating magoi. I could now use fire and light magic without needing incantations, making me much faster in battle. A simple thought could ignite a fireball in my hand, or create a blinding flash of light. My magoi reservoir had also grown, allowing me to fight longer without getting exhausted.
But magic wasn't my only weapon. My combat skills had improved tremendously. Fighting every day against strong opponents, experiencing countless near-death situations—it had all molded me into a deadly warrior. My body had become stronger, faster, and more flexible. I had mastered daggers, boxing, and incorporated a brutal fighting style that made use of my inhuman strength and agility. Over time, I earned a reputation in the coliseum. They called me the Red Blaze Reaper—a name given to me after my first battle, and it stuck.
Today, I stood in the underground holding area, waiting for my next fight. The air smelled of sweat, blood, and dust. My muscles tensed in anticipation as I heard the muffled roars of the crowd above.
Then, the announcer's voice boomed through the arena.
"And now, our champion! The undefeated warrior! The nightmare of the coliseum! The Red Blaze Reaper—NABERIUS!"
The gate in front of me creaked open, revealing the bright sunlight and the massive crowd. As I stepped forward, the ground vibrated with the thunderous cheers of thousands of spectators. I had gotten used to it by now. These people worshipped blood and death, and I had given them plenty over the years.
I walked into the center of the arena and looked at my opponents. A hundred massive ape-like monsters stood before me, each one a hulking beast with sharp claws and thick muscle. The sight reminded me of my very first battle, but unlike back then, there was no fear in my heart. No hesitation. Just confidence.
The moment the signal to start was given, I moved. To the crowd, it looked like a blur—one second, I was standing still, the next, I was already in the middle of the monsters.
I didn't need weapons. My fists, my feet, my magic—they were all I needed. My first strike crushed an ape's skull, sending blood splattering across the sand. The second one had its throat ripped open before it could even react. Flames erupted around me as I tore through them, my fire magic enhancing every attack. Each movement was calculated, precise, and deadly.
In a matter of seconds, all one hundred beasts lay dead, their bodies torn apart and blood soaking the arena floor. The crowd fell silent for a brief moment, stunned by the sheer speed of the massacre. Then, they erupted into cheers, their excitement reaching a fever pitch.
I stood among the corpses, breathing heavily. My knuckles dripped with blood, some of it mine, but mostly from my enemies. I raised a fist into the air and let out a roar.
"WHO ELSE WANTS TO DIE?!" I bellowed, my voice carrying across the coliseum.
The crowd roared back in response, their energy matching mine. They cheered, they chanted my name, completely enthralled by the violence and power I had just displayed.
I looked around at the arena, at the people screaming for more blood.
This isn't where my story ends. I thought. I will get out of here. No matter what it takes.
To be continued...