The Butcher charged, machetes slashing through the air, aiming to carve me open.
I moved.
Faster than he could see.
I ducked the first swing, sidestepped the second, then closed the distance in a blur. My sword flashed, a silver arc in the dim light, slicing through the air with deadly precision.
The first machete clattered to the ground, severed at the hilt.
The second followed before he could react.
Then—
My sword slashed horizontally, biting into his neck.
Blood fountained, hot and thick, spraying across the sand as his head toppled from his shoulders, rolling like a gruesome ball before coming to a stop at my feet.
His body collapsed, blood pumping from the stump of his neck, his fingers twitching as the last of his life drained away.
The crowd screamed.
"DEMON!"
"DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!"
I didn't look at the body.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena, echoing off the blood-smeared walls, "We have our winner, ladies and gentlemen—Death!"
