Chapter 7 ~ No Bow

{Ragna’s POV}

The crowd’s noise multiplied in response to me dislocating Selene’s jaw.

She didn’t rise immediately now so they started the countdown. 

“ONE.”

“TWO…”

It was supposed to be a relief hearing the countdown but I wasn’t satisfied or convinced— not until Selene started convulsing a second later.

With this, I settled my rage and stared while the crowd’s voices grew wilder. They lived for brutality. 

I had definitely damaged other things in Selene's body but I didn’t care. Me not killing her is mercy beyond anything. 

I took one step forward as the count got to TEN, and then the crowd exploded in roars.

I had finally won but that wasn’t my focus as I stood over her now, my chest heaving, with blood dripping steadily from my chin and arms. I snarled lowly.

“I had mercy,” I said to her now, my voice rough but steady.

“Don’t expect it again.”

**

I stood alone on the sand now. 

Selene had been dragged away and the crowd was responding to me as they did other winners— which was yelling wildly and collecting the rewards of their betting.

It was supposed to feel exhilarating but then it seemed more like they were praising me as the object of their entertainment rather than a true victor… and that irritated me more than it pleased me. 

As expected, the King’s voice came now, loud and powerful.

“And here is your victor!”

He announced and the Arena roared in response but then it was short-lived as soon, these cheers were replaced by chatters and confused whispers.

People started to talk amongst themselves whilst staring back at me. The atmosphere had switched suddenly and an inexperienced person would not understand why. But I did.

The Victor of an Arena match was meant to bow… and I hadn’t. Just then, there came a new voice. 

“Bow, slave!” the Arena Master’s voice cut in sharply. “Bury your face in the sand and show respect to your King!”

Right. Bury my face in the dirt for my king, a symbolic gesture reflecting the insignificance of the wombless Arena females in comparison to our superior males and of course, honoring our King with our worthlessness. 

In simple words, it meant, “I had almost lost my life for your entertainment and I’ll do it again and again until I die— For I Am Nothing.”

This was the symbolism and every victor was required to respect it after a win. But yeah, I wasn’t doing that. 

The clamour grew louder. 

I might prefer the idea of fighting in the Arena over being someone’s breeder, but it doesn’t mean I want to be termed as nothing. 

“Are you deaf, slave?!” The Arena master barked now and I drove my gaze to him. 

I thought I wasn’t prepared for what came next but apparently, I am. Because I’ll never concur with a system that classifies me as miserable. Weak.

Insignificant.

“Bow!” The Arena master bawled louder and I sighed.

“No.”

Silence…

Then gasps and shocked reactions, tangible enough to make one panic. But then I held my head high. 

“There’s absolutely no reason to.” I added and a wave of utter shock poured throughout the Arena. You would think I committed blasphemy. 

The King rose to his feet then, authority dripping.

“Bow,” he said now, voice sharper. “Or die to the Arena Master’s claws.”

The Arena was in charge of punishment of disobedience of any sort hence his mention. Meanwhile, the King’s involvement was a warning in every sense but then I held his gaze.

“What if I don’t?”

A shocked pause.

Then, “What if I kill him instead?”

..

The Arena froze for almost a full minute…

…and then the King’s laughter broke through. 

He cackled heartily. “You cannot kill a man,” he said, still laughing. “Males are above you. Stronger. Smarter— better.”

I stared, unmoved.  

“What if I do?”

More laughter came as the Arena joined in for which I stood in the middle, a joke. 

“I like this one,” the king said, chortling with his subordinates.

And then, “Very well.” He leaned forward.

“Kill my Arena Master… and I will reward you. Land. Power. I’ll even hand you my son, the Prince.” He voiced, his amusement still there, for which more laughter rang through. 

I ignored all that. 

“All that is good but I want one thing added.” I said. “I’ll never be required to do the diminishing bow.”

He made a laugh. “Alright.”

“Your word?” I said seriously and he paused for a moment before his smile returned. 

“It is given.”

“Good,” I said and threw out my claws instantly.

With this, the Arena Master didn’t wait. He jumped down from his platform, landing with a force that shook the sand loose beneath my feet.

Then he shifted to his werewolf form:

Massive.  

Violent.

Unmistakably lethal.

I didn’t know if what I was about to do was wild or just plainly stupid but I was sure I would never tolerate the system’s belittling… 

And so I settled in a fighting position as the Arena Master approached me with his monstrous frame, and for the first time, the Arena wasn’t just watching a fight.

It was about to witness something impossible…