Idols. I've watched mine fall. It's a sinking feeling deep in your stomach when you realize they aren't heroes or gods. This isn't their story—just inevitable disappointment to those who look up to them.
"F— Flio, what happened?!"
Flio didn't respond. His face was frozen in place while his jaw hung to the floor.
Milo looked across the way to see Jareth unconscious. Two other men beside him had extensive bruising on their faces and bodies.
He beat three men in the time it took me to get this?
Milo looked down.
The bread in Milo's hand became a little more stale, and the taste in his mouth soured.
It didn't take long for Jackson to push himself up off the ground. His upper body was held up by his two hands planted in the sandy soil. He shook his head and looked around, sending dirt from his scalp. The fog began to lift from his mind as he stood.
Jackson walked over to the group, holding his head.
"Flio... what happened?"
"I— I don't know."
Milo looked up to Flio.
He doesn't know? Wasn't he watching too?
Before there was much time to discuss what to do, Flio was forced to step into the ring.
The man in front of him dwarfed Flio's one hundred and seventy-five-centimeter stature.[1] He must have been around Jackson's height—maybe a little shorter.
"Begin."
Milo had never seen Flio fight another person before.
Have I ever seen him fight in general?
Flio charged and took the first swing, but the man easily dodged and countered with his own punch.
His fist barreled toward Flio, seemingly impossible to dodge.
He has to block.
*Doom*
A blast of air was sent out as Flio met the man's fist with his own. Sand shifted from the shockwave of their collision.
Even if Milo wanted to say or think something, no words came to mind. The sheer force Flio packed within his punch was beyond anything Milo had seen before from such a small fighter.
More and more, Milo began to realize how small he was in a world full of great fighters. The boy swallowed as he thought about all of the potential opponents he might face one day.
Flio ducked under the point of impact and sent multiple quick punches to the man's side. Each contact rang the same deep bellow as before.
A quick left hook countered and sent Flio back a couple of feet, creating distance between the two.
Before his opponent continued, he touched his side and spun his shoulder to stretch the pain away. Again, he raised his guard and entered Flio's range.
"Wow," Milo whispered.
"I didn't know Flio was..."
"Yeah, well, he's beat me a couple of times," Jackson scoffed, "so he should at least be this good."
I don't understand? How could Flio be holding his own if Jackson was beaten?
Milo scanned the man's body before a patch of red jumped out at him. It was nothing big. Not blood or an open wound.
His leg.
On the man's front leg, Jackson had left some damage to the outer quad, causing his movements to lag.
"It's not why he's winning," Jackson said.
"W— What?"
"You're thinking that Flio's winning because of the hit I landed, right?"
Milo's eyes looked to the man's leg before he turned back and nodded.
Jackson sighed.
"Yeah, maybe I kicked the bastard pretty good, but Flio has his own strengths. Really, this is just a good matchup for him."
A good matchup? Kicking?
Milo looked back at Flio and watched his every move.
Is Flio that amazing?
Memories of their first mission flashed through his mind. It didn't make sense. Everything Milo knew about Flio discredited the idea that he was an elite fighter, but the boy couldn't deny what he was seeing.
Flio's hands were quick and powerful. His vision made it seem as though he knew when and where every punch was coming from as the man in front of him struggled to land a clean hit.
*Crack*
The man's side made a sharp cracking noise as Flio hit it once more, dropping the man to the ground.
Sweat dripped from Flio's face as he quickly finished the match with a final blow.
The next opponent stepped in quickly, but he paled in comparison to the teammate who had fought the previous round. He took advantage of Flio's fatigue and managed to get him out of the circle.
"Booo!" The spectators were in an uproar.
"Fight him like for real, you fuckin' loser!"
The man waved the crowd off as he readied himself for the next fight.
Luckily, with both Adreas and Loke still in the fight, the final opponent didn't stand much of a chance.
Adreas tired him before Loke stepped in to finish him off. And before Milo knew it, his team had won the first round.
Milo took a short break to rest and eat. He wanted to go around and watch other fights, but the second round ended quicker than he had imagined. He finished another loaf of bread and quenched his thirst using the well before being called over to a different ring.
"Fighters ready?"
The boy looked to Jackson and Flio, who nodded for him to approach.
Milo stepped into the circle as his opponent did the same.
I can do this.
The judge raised his hand high in the sky.
I want to do this.
As the judge's hand came down, he shouted.
"Begin!"
Taking the offensive, Milo dashed in close.
Confidence was painted on his opponent's face, but unlike other competitors, the man was disciplined. His strikes were sharp and precise.
He's not underestimating me.
A slight smile took hold of Milo's lips.
Word had spread about his feats from the first round. Some argued that Jareth's overconfidence almost cost him, while others argued in favor of Milo's improvement.
"Aren't brains supposed to be all, I don't know, squishy at that age? No wonder he's soaking up all this knowledge," Flio said.
Jackson looked at him and squinted before shaking his head. They both turned back to the fight.
It seemed evenly matched, given the age difference. Milo was using his footwork to narrowly dodge punches, while his opponent used his range to hinder Milo's movement.
Just as he'd done with Jareth, Milo pushed himself further in range of the punches.
The man smiled as a flurry rained down on the boy, but the happiness quickly drained from his face.
Faster and faster, Milo bobbed and weaved his head. His toes tapped the ground before shifting and turning his torso around.
Milo threw out a sharp jab, but the man parried it.
Blood splattered across the sand as Milo took a hard cross to the jaw. He stumbled back, but kept himself moving. His eyes showed double.
Milo's eyes readjusted as he dodged a hard overhand. He twisted his body and rolled around the man's arm as he loaded a punch.
As Milo swung his body around, he unleashed a strong right. In an instant, he pulled back, scarcely dodging a kick to his skull.
Shit. I forgot about kicks.
It was a weak endeavor, but it was enough to give the man time to regain distance and his advantage over the boy.
Milo panted.
Stamina was one thing he'd trained hard for, but still lacked compared to others around him.
The two stared at each other before reengaging in battle.
I need to end this. Quick.
Looking for any weakness, he scanned his opponent's body.
There.
Milo ducked and delivered an overhand into the man's gut. As his opponent recoiled, his head dropped. Milo reared back and aimed for a bruise under the man's eye. In response, the man raised his guard next to his head.
*Crack*
Bone rattled as Milo turned his punch into an uppercut. The man's jaw snapped shut as he was sent to the floor.
Black.
Milo did it.
He turned to his group. Everyone around stared as the boy walked to the edge of his circle.
Jackson, Flio, Adreas, and Loke roared out and jumped around.
"HOLY SHIT!" Flio shouted with his hands to his head.
"You actually beat him!?"
Jackson laughed as Milo looked down, smiling.
I actually did it?
Milo looked back at the man on the ground. He wasn't a top fighter, large, or a master fighter, but Milo had beaten him with his own two hands.
"Tsk."
Ralph stood across the ring, looking down on the fallen soldier. His eyes met with Milo as he stepped into the ring.
[1] Around 5'9"