Chapter 51: The Colosseum
Alex’s eyes slowly fluttered open. At first, everything was a blur, but as his vision came into focus, an unfamiliar scene materialized before him.
He found himself lying on rough stone that formed natural terraces across what appeared to be a massive underground arena. The rock beneath him was warm to the touch, as if heated by some internal source that pulsed with rhythmic energy.
A dank, earthy smell filled the air, but underneath it was something else: the metallic scent of old blood and the sharp smell of fear that had soaked into stone over countless years. Though the space looked like a natural cavern, strips of gray sky were visible through deliberate openings far overhead, allowing pale light to filter down in geometric patterns.
To his right and left, ancient iron bars stretched floor to ceiling, their surfaces pitted with rust and age. The metal bore scars that spoke of desperate attempts at escape: claw marks, burn patterns, and gouges that suggested both human and inhuman attempts to break free.
Alex pushed himself upright slowly, his body protesting every movement. The soul core damage from his battle with the Void Stalker had left him feeling hollow, like essential parts of himself were missing or cracked. Each breath sent phantom pains through his chest.
’I thought I died.’
The memory crashed back with brutal clarity: channeling SS-rank flames through an Adept-level core, the excruciating backlash, the sensation of his very essence tearing apart. He should be dead. By all rights, the internal damage should have been fatal.
But he was alive. Somehow.
Alex examined his surroundings more carefully, his mind trying to process the deliberate construction around him. This wasn’t a natural cave system; someone had carved this space with purpose. The iron bars weren’t random. They formed holding cells arranged in a circular pattern around a central arena floor.
’A colosseum. An underground fighting pit.’
The implications settled over him like ice water. Someone had been collecting fighters, storing them in these cells before forcing them to battle for entertainment. The question was whether that someone was human or something else entirely.
A grinding sound of metal against stone made him turn toward the back wall he hadn’t noticed in his initial assessment. Another wall of thick iron bars blocked what appeared to be a corridor leading deeper into the complex. The door set into those bars was opening with deliberate slowness, its hinges protesting with rusty screams.
Alex’s blood ran cold as a figure emerged from the shadows beyond.
The creature that stepped through stood nearly eight feet tall on legs like tree trunks, each footfall making the stone floor tremble. The moment Alex’s eyes fixed on it, his Adept Eyes skill activated automatically:
**[Arena Warden]**
**[Species: Scarborn]
**[Rank: SS-Class Entity]**
**[Primary Ability: ???????]**
**[Secondary Ability: Combat Mastery]**
**[Threat Assessment: EXTREME]**
Its humanoid shape was a grotesque parody of human proportions: shoulders broader than any doorway, arms that hung past its knees, and a torso that spoke of unnatural strength. Its skin was a patchwork of scars, burn marks, and thick, leathery hide that had been toughened by countless battles. Old wounds had healed into raised ridges of scar tissue that formed intricate patterns across its body, telling stories of survival against impossible odds.
The creature’s hands, if they could still be called that, gripped a weapon that matched its savage nature. A crude axe forged from what looked like scavenged metal and bone, its blade notched and stained with substances Alex preferred not to identify. The weapon radiated malevolent energy, suggesting it had been used for far more than simple combat.
But what froze Alex’s blood wasn’t the creature’s physical presence. It was its eyes. They burned with an intelligence that was distinctly, horrifyingly aware. This wasn’t some mindless beast driven by hunger or territorial instinct. This was something that understood exactly what it was doing.
The creature stopped several paces away, its massive head tilting as it studied Alex with the calculating gaze of a butcher evaluating meat. When it spoke, the sounds that emerged were guttural and harsh, nothing like any language Alex had ever heard.
"Kreth nakul. Vorthak. Zhel-mori keth nul."
Alex stared blankly at the creature, understanding nothing. The syllables were alien, carrying undertones that seemed to resonate in frequencies human vocal cords couldn’t produce. But as the sounds faded, text began appearing in his vision:
**[Foreign Language Detected]**
**[System Translation Activated]**
**[Translation: "Awake. Good. The Master grows impatient."]**
’The system can translate languages. That’s... useful.’
Alex’s mind raced through the implications. If the system could provide real-time translation of completely alien languages, what else was it capable of? And more importantly, why hadn’t this function appeared before?
"Where am I?" Alex asked in his own language, curious to see if the translation worked both ways.
The creature’s expression didn’t change, but it responded in those same harsh syllables: "Zhel-korth. Mek thurvani kresh vorth, nul wekith thuul mekthari."
**[Translation: "The Arena. Where the worthy prove their strength, and the weak feed the sands."]**
It gestured with its free hand toward the iron bars, and for the first time Alex noticed that his cell wasn’t alone. Dozens of similar enclosures ringed the central fighting pit, most of them empty but showing signs of recent occupancy. Straw bedding, food bowls, even scratch marks on the walls where previous occupants had tried to keep track of time.
As the creature’s translated words echoed in his mind, Alex felt a chill that had nothing to do with the damp cave air. He needed to understand his current capabilities and limitations.
"Status," he thought, accessing his system interface.
The familiar window materialized, but something was terribly wrong:
**[STATUS WINDOW]**
**[Name: Kael Ashford (Alexander Chen)]**
**[Age: 19]**
**[Level: 2]**
**[Class: Adept]**
**[Exp: 750/2000]**
**[Rank: ???]**
**[HP: 68/100]**
**[Strength: 12]**
**[Agility: 12]**
**[Stamina: 11]**
**[Essence: ERROR -18,004,682/20,000,000- ERROR]**
**[Available Stat Points: 0]**
**[Ability: Mimicry - STATUS: UNAVAILABLE]**
**[Mimicked Ability: Fire Manipulation - STATUS: UNAVAILABLE]**
The essence reading was flickering rapidly between 100 and his true maximum, the numbers shifting so fast they became a blur. Alex stared at the display in growing alarm. His massive essence reserves, the foundation of his power, were somehow being altered, showing his true essence capacity now.
’They’re suppressing my abilities. Somehow.’
His gaze swept the cell more carefully, looking for the source of the interference. The iron bars weren’t just corroded metal. Etched into their surface were intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with their own dim energy. Sigils and symbols that hurt to look at directly, creating an almost hypnotic effect that made his eyes water.
**[Active Quest: SURVIVE]**
**[Warning: Essence is leaking out of core]**
**[Warning: Soul core damage persisting]**
Alex tested his connection to his fire manipulation, trying to call even the smallest flame to his palm. Nothing. It was like trying to grasp water. The power was there, vast and oceanic, but something was blocking his access to it entirely.
The creature watched his growing realization with what might have been amusement. "Mek thuul vorthani," it rumbled. "Nul kresh mekthari zhel-nakul."
**[Translation: "Not time for that yet."]**
"Vorthek-thul mek zhaani?" Alex asked, attempting to use the creature’s language. He had no idea if the words were correct, but he tried to ask how long he’d been here.
**[Translation Attempted: "How long prisoner-me here-place?"]**
The creature’s eyes widened slightly, surprise perhaps, or respect for the attempt. "Nakul-vel kresh thuul. Mori-zhel keth vorthak."
**[Translation: "Two cycles pass. You recover quickly."]**
Two days. He’d been unconscious for two days. But even with that time, his abilities remained completely suppressed by whatever technology or power fueled the sigil-carved bars around him.
The creature turned and walked toward a different section of the bars, not leaving, but moving to what Alex now realized was a control mechanism. Ancient-looking levers and pulleys connected to the cell doors throughout the arena, all carved with the same energy-draining sigils.
Alex examined the restraint more carefully now that he understood its purpose. The patterns etched into the iron weren’t just decorative. They formed a complex array designed to interfere with essence manipulation.
"Vorthak-mel kesh," the creature rumbled, massive hands adjusting mechanisms with surprising delicacy. "Zhel-mori thuul kresh nakul."
**[Translation: "Rest while you can. The Master has special plans for you."]**
Alex called out: "Mek-zhani vorthak kresh?"
**[Translation Attempted: "Why prisoner-me interesting?"]**
The massive being paused, its burning gaze fixing on him with something that might have been respect. "Kresh-vel Nakul-Vorth. Thuul mek-zhani kol."
**[Translation: "You survived the Shadow-Death. That makes you interesting."]**
’The Void Stalker. They know about my fight.’
The implications sent ice through Alex’s veins. If these entities had been monitoring his battle, they knew about his abilities, his current limitations, and most dangerously, his potential. He wasn’t just another captured fighter. He was a specific target they’d been waiting for.
The creature’s words carried an ominous finality that made Alex’s damaged soul core ache with pain. Whatever entertainment its Master had planned, it wouldn’t be a fair fight. How could it be, when his opponents probably had full access to their abilities while he was reduced to baseline human capabilities?
The creature disappeared back into the corridor, its footsteps echoing with deliberate menace. As the sound faded, Alex was left alone with the oppressive weight of the suppression field and the growing certainty that he was walking into a carefully orchestrated trap.
Alex settled back against the stone wall, conserving his energy while his mind worked through possibilities. The bars were suppressing his essence abilities, but they were still just metal and stone. The arena had been designed for entertainment, which meant there were rules, patterns, weaknesses that could be exploited.
The games were about to begin, and even without his powers, Alex intended to turn the tables on whatever entity thought it could use him as a plaything.*****
Alex’s contemplation was interrupted as new text suddenly blazed across his vision
**[ADDITIONAL QUEST RECEIVED]**
**[DEFEAT THE ARENA WARDEN]**
**[Difficulty: EXTREME]**
**[Time Limit: None]**
**[Rewards:]**
**- Instant Level Up**
** +20 Stat Points**
**- +1 Ability Slot**
**[Warning: Quest failure may result in to death]**