C.E.N.T.U.R.Y: No Escape.

Chapter five: down to 96

The door leading out of the battle arena opened, Williams cast one last glance at Jonathan's motionless body. There was a mix of relief and sorrow in his eyes as he took a step back, realizing the gravity of the situation.

Then the automated voice announced.

“Group A has won this match, and would be going off against group D tomorrow. So get prepared, note that your fighter cannot be changed after he has selected.”

Group A congratulated Williams for winning the fight, but Williams on the other hand did not feel like a winner. He remembered the look on Jonathan's face when the axe went through his chest. Williams had trouble sleeping that night knowing that he just took someone's life.

By the following day they were once again awake before the automated voice spoke. And ground D had their champion ready to fight, and probably win the battle. As Williams entered into the battle arena with his axe, and the candidate of group D, whose name was Philip, entered into the battle arena with a sword, the automated voice announced.

“Todays, battle would be group A against group D. Round one, fight!”

The clash of metal echoed through the arena as Williams and Philip engaged in combat. Each swing of their weapons was filled with determination and purpose. As they exchanged blows, Williams could not help but feel a mix of anticipation and guilt for what he had done to Jonathan in the previous fight.

Despite his conflicted emotions, Williams fought with every ounce of his strength. He evaded Philip's strikes and countered with well-timed attacks of his own. The crowd erupted with cheers, oblivious to the burden weighing heavy on Williams' conscience.

With each swing of his axe, Williams channeled his emotions, processing the guilt and sorrow into a powerful resolve. He could not change the past, but he could make a difference moving forward. As the battle intensified, Williams found himself gaining the upper hand.

The rest of the group members watched in awe as Williams showcased his skill and agility, all the while trying to ignore the nagging voice in his head reminding him of the cost of victory. He felt torn between the desire to win and the need to honor the life he had taken.

As the fight raged on, Williams managed to disarm Philip, sending his sword flying across the arena. Seizing the moment, Williams could have struck the final blow, securing his victory. However, something within him hesitated, recognizing that violence was not the answer.

In a surprising move, Williams dropped his own weapon, signaling an end to the battle. The crowd fell silent, puzzled by his actions. Williams approached Philip, extending a hand in a gesture of peace.

“Enough bloodshed.” he said, his voice permeating with genuine empathy.

“I am not going to fight anymore, if the game wants us dead then it should just do so, instead of making us kill each other in the bid to win and leave this messed up game.”

Philip, though initially taken aback, grasped Williams' hand, his eyes mirroring a mixture of relief and gratitude. Then in a surprising twist of events Philip turned on Williams punching him seriously as hard as he could. Williams was caught of guard and hence could not evade or block Philips attacks.

Blood splattered across the battle ground, as Philip landed punch after punch, determined to kill Williams.

Williams on the other hand could not do anything, he was both too shocked that Philip would turn on him, despite the fact that he speared his life. Philip kept on punching and punching cause severe damage to Williams body, until Williams was bleeding out.

Then Philip walked up his sword and picked it up and headed to kill Williams, but as he was about to stab Williams, he rolled out of the way causing Philip to drive his sword deep into the ground. Without hesitation Williams got up and kicked Philip in the head leaving him stunned. Then he hurried back to his axe and picked it up while Philip managed to pull out his sword.

As Philip launched himself towards Williams, his movements fueled by anger and desperation, Williams knew he had to defend himself. With a surge of adrenaline, he raised his axe, parrying Philip's sword with swift precision. The clash of their weapons reverberated throughout the arena, each strike amplifying the intensity of their struggle.

Williams could feel the weight of the moment, the weight of his past actions, pressing heavily on his shoulders. But he couldn't allow himself to be consumed by guilt or hesitation. This fight wasn't just about surviving—it was about making a stand, both for himself and for those who had been forced into this twisted game.

Gritting his teeth, Williams pushed back against Philip's relentless assault. He moved with agility and determination, his every movement calculated and precise. His body ached from the punches he had endured moments ago, but his spirit remained unbroken.

With a swift, fluid motion, Williams aimed a powerful strike towards Philip's exposed side. His axe connected with a resounding thud, causing Philip to stagger backward, gasping for air. Seizing the opportunity, Williams pressed on, relentless in his pursuit of victory.

But Philip was no ordinary foe; he too possessed a fighting spirit fueled by desperation. He pushed through the pain, retaliating with fierce strikes of his own. The audience watched in suspense, caught between admiration for Williams' courage and concern for his well-being.

As the battle continued, the exhaustion began to set in. Both fighters were bruised and battered, their bodies pushed to the limit. But Williams refused to succumb to defeat. He drew strength from within, summoning every ounce of resilience he possessed.

With a roar of determination, Williams launched a final assault, his movements graceful yet powerful. The axe cleaved through the air, finding its mark on Philip's arm. A cry of pain echoed through the arena as Philip's grip on his sword wavered, his weapon falling from his grasp.

Sensing an opening, Williams brought his axe down with a decisive blow, splitting Philips head into two and bringing him to his knees. The crowd erupted in a mixture of shock and awe as the battle came to a sudden, unexpected end.

Williams stood over Philips lifeless body, his chest rising and falling in exhaustion. But his eyes held a glimmer of hope, a flicker of compassion. But Williams had sustained too many injures during the fight and as a result he was bleeding out and was dying. So walked out of the battle ground, and slowly walked to his bed then he laid down and closed his eyes in death.