Siph looked out across the bowl of the Arena, instantly recognizing the massive opponent at the far end. Krath...I could beat him in my sleep, and dance an hour-long waltz around him awake. The demon chuckled.
High above on the Arena's lowest terrace, the Arena master stood, holding a blood-red cloth. "Today, the fights begin. Let them mark a noble ascension to victory, and prove themselves worthy of Calarith's challenge! When the cloth drops, have at it, fighters!" And at this, he flung the cloth down. It fluttered quickly down the side of the Arena's wall, over twenty feet down, to the dirt floor of the battlefield.
And then Krath charged.
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