Talking with the three women in the baths, Yuki began to piece together a better idea as to how the Coliseum worked and the people that she would have to deal with. A person fought every three days. The matchups were determined beforehand by the Fiddler, but they were never known until the fights began. 

Each fight had a random weapon assigned that both fighters would use. Sometimes, like in Yuki’s case, there were no weapons and fights were fought through either magic or hand to hand. From the experiences of the three women, the weapon would be anything. There was no pattern and the variety of weapons that have been used was immense, ranging from guns to daggers to polearms. Whips were even used at one point.

The outcomes of those fights determined your treatment in the Coliseum. Winners were given benefits such as using the bathhouses, room upgrades, and better food. Those that lost were given the normal. The ones that had a losing record were moved to different rooms. From how Jesse described those rooms, it was essentially the prison cell that Yuki was in.

“I’ve been in there,” Jesse had said. “No one in their right mind would want to be stuck in that hell.”

“How long have you been here?” Yuki had asked.

Jesse had forgotten how long she had been in the Coliseum. Yuki listened to her as she tried to guess, but they got as far as “more than a few years.” Alex and Karie were the same. 

When Yuki was satisfied, she left the bathes with much blushing from the other three. She changed into the set of clothes she found, taking an extra shirt with her. Then she bade the three farewell and went back to the arena, creating a small area of heat around her hair to dry it as she walked.

As she left the hallway, she noticed the same guard still standing at his post, but his attention was fixated toward the glass between the dirt of the arena and what Jesse had called the “challenger’s lounge”.  

“What are you looking at?” Yuki asked. The guard glanced at her but returned his gaze back to the arena. 

“The Bull is going to fight,” the guard replied. “You should get a good look. If you’re lucky you might not need to fight him.”

“Then I’ll probably be fighting him,” Yuki said.

“Ha. You also might be able to watch the Bull fall today. I heard his opponent isn’t to be trifled with.”

“I see. Thanks.”

She left the guard and slid between people, some making way for her as they recognized her. When she got to the glass, the Fiddler was beginning his announcements.

“And now, the fight that you all have been waiting for,” his raspy voice boomed. “The Bull, fighting to extend his win streak to thirty eight wins and his challenger, the up and coming fighter himself, Ghost!”

The crowd roared as the two fighters appeared on the battlefield, one on each end. It was the first real good look Yuki had of the man called the Bull. His physique matched his name. He was a giant, muscular man who was a bit top heavy. His lack of a shirt only served to showcase his toned muscles even more. Confidence exuded out from him as he stood there with his arms crossed.

On the other side, the one called “Ghost” was a stick figure compared to his opponent. That wasn’t to say that he was skinny or weak. Yuki could see his well built body even through the baggy shirt he wore. His fingers drummed against his thigh and his feet shuffled in place. All signs of a nervous man.

But Yuki knew better. She could see his eyes and how they were locked onto the giant man he was about to fight. They were cold and calculating. And an odd orange.

‘A demon?’ Yuki thought. Only a demon could have eyes like that. ‘But what kind of demon?’

“Let’s see the weapon for this fight!” the Fiddler said.

A bright flash and a sword appeared in the air, glowing brightly for all to see. 

“Ooo, a sword. This battle should be an interesting one indeed.”

As he spoke, two swords materialized out of thin air and floated towards the two combatants. They took a hold of them and waited for the Fiddler to announce the start of the fight. Yuki watched the two carefully, observing how they handled their newly given weapons. They both seemed familiar with a sword, though how well they could use one, Yuki couldn’t tell.

“Let’s start the countdown,” the Fiddler said.

The timer appeared and began to tick down. The lounge fell quiet as all attention was directed to the fight before them. Then when the timer hit zero, the room held its breath.

The Bull bursted forward, dust blowing up behind him as he blurred past Yuki’s eyes. In one moment, the giant man had been standing still, and in the next, he was moving faster than Yuki could see. When he reappeared a second later, he was on the other side of the arena with his sword thrusted out towards where his opponent had just been standing on.

However, his blade touched nothing. The man called Ghost was standing a few feet to the side of where he had been. He looked at the Bull with the same cold eyes he had been wearing when he was introduced.

The Bull roared and disappeared, only to appear right before Ghost and let loose a mighty swing that ripped through the air. Yuki’s eyes narrowed as he saw the blade go right through Ghost as if he was nothing. 

‘He can’t be an actual ghost,’ she thought. ‘Magic? Then the Bull must have used magic to accelerate so fast. There’s no other way.’

She could only guess. The glass between her and the battle had some sort of magic blocking capabilities that prevented her from feeling whether or not someone used mana. 

The Bull glowered, his jaw clenching before he began a flurry of slashes and thrusts. Ghost stood there, his expression unchanging as he watched the Bull hack away at nothing, the blade continually going through Ghost’s body. 

With his attempts to hit Ghost failing, the Bull got angrier and angrier while Ghost looked on unimpressed. The Bull roared and raised his blade again, this time the blade starting to glow blood red. Then he attacked again, his strikes even more frenzied than the ones before.

‘He’s persistent and has the stamina for that persistence,’ Yuki thought. “I’ll give that to him. But that fighting style. It reminds me of someone.’

That old man from the Shikaku that had humiliated Yuki in that treasury. The old man that could become the very air itself to the point where nothing could touch him. The memory made Yuki’s heart alight with anger and anticipation. Anticipation of having a rematch. She clamped down on a growl that was building in her throat, shoving it down along with the bubbling emotions that tried to surface.

‘I need to figure out what’s the deal with this growling situation,’ she frowned. 

She refocused her attention on the battle in front of her. It was important to gather information on both of these fighters, since one day she may fight them. And who ever won would be the one she had to worry about the most.

But the winner of the fight was already decided the moment the Bull couldn’t land the first hit against Ghost. The Bull couldn’t defeat something he could hit. 

At last, it seemed the Bull began to tire when Ghost’s expression had changed to become one that was bored. His lips moved as he spoke to the Bull. Yuki doubted that he was giving his opponent words of encouragement. 

And now, Ghost moved. He jabbed his blade forward towards the Bull’s solar plexus. The Bull attempted a block, but Ghost’s blade went right through the block, phasing through as if the block was never made. Then it struck true, hitting the Bull right in the center of the chest.

The blade didn’t drive deep, but that didn’t seem to be Ghost’s intention in the first place. The Bull staggered back as his breath suddenly left him from the strike. Then he collapsed, his body writhing from pain. Yuki heard a faint scream come through the thick glass. 

‘What happened?’ Yuki thought. ‘He must have used magic. But what did he do? No way a strike like that inflicted so much pain.’

The scream stopped and so too did the Bull. He remained unconscious on the arena ground, his body still quivering. 

“Game!” the Fiddler shouted, his voice booming. “Unbelievable! The Bull has been brought down by a Ghost! Who would have thought?” 

The Fiddler appeared in the center of the arena and spread his arms wide.

“And just like that, the Bull’s win streak has been brought to an end. So close to that milestone, yet so far at the same time,” the Fiddler said, shaking his head. But Yuki could see his satisfied smile underneath that sad expression. 

He waved his hand toward the body of the Bull which promptly disappeared. 

“Now then. Who is the leading fighter now? I’m sure you’re all asking yourself that question,” he grinned. “Want to try and wager a guess?”

The crowd shouted a number of titles and numbers, their words tumbling down in a cacophony towards the Fiddler who absorbed it all with a smile. Then he put his hand up, stopping the guesses.

“Let me tell you who it is,” he said, his voice lowering to a deep rasp. “He’s standing here right now. With this victory, his streak extends to seventeen. It’s the one and only, Ghost!”

Cheers thundered at the Fiddler’s words, but the man of the moment looked indifferent toward it all. 

“Now he races towards the path of fifty wins. Will he get there? Or will he be struck down like he did to the Bull today? Who knows.”

‘You know,’ Yuki thought. 

The reason behind the Fiddler’s satisfied grin was becoming clear to Yuki. This whole grandiose narration, the audience’s reactions; it was what he lived for. But true to his name, he enjoyed being the one pulling at the strings. And the strings were the fighters.

‘He’s rigging the match ups so that no one can win fifty,’ Yuki thought. She pressed her lips together and set her jaw. ‘If that’s the case. Then I’ll just take anything he throws at me. I must.’