On his knees, the tip of the sword resting against his neck, his own sword out of reach, he was defeated, all that remained was the verdict.
He looked around the arena. The crowd, a multi-headed beast that shared only one brain, jostled for the best position, all baying for blood.
Would his opponent’s blade finally free him from slavery?
The crowd silenced as the Editor of the games who held his fate stood up.
He waited.