All Chapters of All Is Fair In Love And Blood: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

{Ragna’s POV}It was honestly impressive.The amount of hatred people could develop simply because you refused to die.Yes, I had shifted Selene’s jaw.Yes, I had broken Paige’s fingers.And yes, both females had since disappeared into whatever dark corner the Arena stored people while they recovered or tried not to die.But none of that changed the fact that both situations had involved a very simple choice.Them or me.I had chosen me.Apparently that made me the villain.I had spent years planning my climb through the Arena system. Years telling myself that if I fought hard enough and survived long enough, I would eventually reach the top.Back then, that dream had included Darian.Now it didn’t.Still, the goal remained.Fight.Win.Climb.Simple.Or at least it would have been simple if the Reigns would stop interrupting my damn life.First, they had thrown me into the dungeons and accused me of murdering their Arena Master.Then they had nearly executed me.And now I was being s

{Ragna’s POV}“Wait. What?”Liam looked completely serious.“A fight.”“A fight between you and I?”“Yes.”“No way.”That finally earned the slightest reaction from him.“Why?”“Because you’re the Crown Prince.”“And?”“And I’m trying to decide whether this is insane or just unusually creative.”His expression remained calm as he moved back toward the table and continued arranging the scrolls as though we were discussing the weather or something as random. “You continue insisting that you did not kill the Arena Master. You continue insisting that you don’t remember doing it. This allows me to verify the truth for myself.”I folded my arms.“And if this tells you that I didn’t kill him?”“Then you’ll prove me wrong.”I stared at him for a moment, unsure what exactly I was supposed to do with that answer.Liam finally looked up.“But you will not hold back. I need your full effort.”I was still trying to process the conversation because it somehow kept getting stranger every time he ope

{Ragna’s POV}You’ve got to be kidding me.That was the first coherent thought that managed to survive the shock.Grunta’s finger remained pointed directly at me while the entire Bone Yard stared as though I had suddenly grown another head. What made the situation worse was the complete lack of humor anywhere around me. Nobody laughed. Nobody corrected him. Nobody even looked confused. The Older Blood he had selected earlier stood waiting with her arms folded across a chest broad enough to qualify as an architecture, while Grunta himself looked perfectly content to remain standing there until I obeyed.Oh.This is actually real.I still looked at the Older Blood again, hoping I had somehow misunderstood the situation, but she was still there, still enormous. Waiting.Then I looked back at Grunta. His finger hadn’t moved.What…Slowly, I started walking.A path opened before me almost immediately as the bloods shifted aside to let me pass, and I couldn’t help noticing how considerate

{Ragna’s POV}After Grunta’s announcement, the Arena erupted once more, the cheering rolling across the sands while I remained kneeling where I was, blood dripping steadily from my body as the reality of my situation settled over me.The match was over.Varka had won, which meant I was fucked.I was now the entertainment.Wonderful.I pressed a hand against my stomach and immediately threw my hand back. The wound Paige had left behind had reopened somewhere during the fight, and warm blood continued slipping between my fingers. My face felt even worse. Every pulse of my heartbeat seemed determined to remind me that Varka had carved her victory signature into my skin like some artist proud of her work.I should have been paying attention to the beasts. I should have been thinking about survival and preparing for whatever fresh horror Grunta had planned next.Instead, my eyes searched the crowd again.My Mother.I found her almost immediately and, despite everything that had just happene

{Hagari POV}The horn continued to echo across the Reigns long after its first blast had shaken the city.I stood near the outer structure of the Arena and watched the panic unfold around me while dust rose from hurried footsteps and frightened voices merged into a single restless current. People were running in every direction. Merchants abandoned their stalls. Guards pushed through crowds and families hurried their children away from the Arena district without bothering to explain why.None of them knew what was happening. That was the strange thing.They were running because the horn demanded it as the sound itself was enough.The horn had existed long before most of these people were born and had become woven into stories, warnings, and inherited fears. It belonged to the kind of danger people prayed they would never witness, which meant that when it sounded, nobody waited for explanations.They simply ran.Because the horn meant danger. Because the horn meant survival depended on