For three days, Arya and the twins remained in the prison, awaiting their fate. When the time finally came, the guards entered their cell without a word, dragging them to their feet and hauling them toward the pit's entrance. The twins exchanged tense glances, but Arya walked ahead, silent and composed.
The pit roared with anticipation. Yatnish had ensured that Arya's return was well-publicized, and the crowd responded in kind. They had come to witness a spectacle, to see if the warrior who once defied fate still had the fire to do it again.
The three fighters were thrown to the ground at the pit's entrance, where an assortment of weapons lay before them. Rudra picked up a chain and fastened a curved knife to its end. Raghav chose a spear and shield. Arya grasped a sword, testing its weight before selecting a shield to accompany it. Not a word was spoken between them.
As they stepped into the pit, the audience erupted. It had been months since Arya had last fought, and they had paid good money for today's entertainment. High above, Yatnish lounged in his chair, Marketu standing beside him. Ashvapati watched in silence, his expression unreadable.
Their opponents stood ready—eight men, their faces a mix of anger and desperation. They knew this was no ordinary match. This was a chance for them to carve their names into history, to be the ones who took down the infamous fighter before them. But Arya moved with ease, rolling his shoulders, swinging his sword in smooth arcs through the air, feeling out its balance. The twins followed him, tense but ready.
The pit's Master, Ganak, cracked his whip, and Yatnish gave the signal. The first two fighters charged at Arya.
He stepped forward, pivoting smoothly as the first man's sword slashed at him. Arya deflected it with his shield, twisting his body and driving his knee into his opponent's stomach. As the man doubled over, Arya spun and sliced across his back, sending him to the dirt. The second attacker swung an axe at him, but Arya sidestepped, knocking the weapon aside and striking his opponent's leg. The man crumpled, and Arya finished him with a swift downward slash.
The twins fought their own battles. Rudra swung his chained knife, keeping his foes at a distance. He wrapped the chain around one fighter's wrist, yanking him forward and stabbing him in the throat. Raghav used his spear to control space, thrusting and withdrawing with precision. Despite their efforts, they struggled—unlike Arya, they had not yet mastered this kind of battle.
Arya made quick work of his opponents. His street-fighting instincts came alive, adapting with ruthless efficiency. He ducked, rolled, struck, and dodged like a predator among prey. Within minutes, four men lay dead at his feet. The twins dispatched their enemies with difficulty, panting heavily as the fight came to an end.
The crowd erupted into cheers and chants. But Arya wasn't done yet.
Ganak cracked his whip again. Five more fighters were ushered into the pit, but these men hesitated. They had seen what had just happened. Their eyes darted between Arya and their fallen comrades.
Arya watched them, his sword resting at his side. "I won't attack first," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But if you do, I won't show mercy. And I don't expect any from you. Either lay down your weapons and walk away, or fight."
One of them, a younger man, hesitated before dropping his sword. The moment he did, an arrow pierced his chest, sending him to the ground in a heap. The crowd cheered wildly. Arya looked up toward Yatnish's balcony. Yatnish smiled, pleased with the demonstration. Arya shook his head.
"This is sad," he muttered.
The remaining fighters, now realizing there was no surrender, charged with desperate fury. The battle was swift. Arya deflected and disarmed with practiced ease, choosing not to kill his opponents but leaving them unconscious in the dirt. The twins fought alongside him, their movements more fluid than before.
The match ended with the crowd in uproar. Ganak signaled, and the guards escorted Arya and the twins back inside. As Arya stepped toward his cell, he met Yatnish's gaze once more.
This time, Arya was the one smiling.