Steven watched as the mighty warrior Drake began to approach him, filled with killing intent. He grasped his sword in one hand, the other a tightly clenched fist still bloodied from the deed of killing Favour.

Steven’s breath hitched, this was a probability he had not been hoping for. He had no idea what the gap was between his own fighting capabilities and that of Drake. For one, he was self-taught, learning from the ghastly streets of the lowlifes of the human world.

Drake was different. A man who had originated from a clan, someone who had probably been training since he was able to walk, someone who could easily hack Steven apart in a single blow.

Steven tensed at the thought.

’No wonder he’s so confident in his approach.’

He hissed as he awaited Drake, who walked slowly toward him. Steven studied his movements carefully, making sure to be wary of his domineering presence.

Then, all of a sudden, Drake sprinted forward, breaking from his slow-paced walk and charging at Steven. Raising his sword high, he swung it down with murderous intent.

Thanks to his stat points, Steven was far faster than Drake’s initial attack. Sidestepping, he avoided the brunt of the blow—but it wasn’t over.

As though Drake had known Steven would make that exact movement, he bent his sword mid-motion, slashing toward Steven’s throat once again.

The first attack had been nothing short of a feign.

Steven’s face tensed. The second strike was fast, and he was unprepared for such a swift retaliation. He raised his dagger to block, taking the full brunt of the strike. He staggered backward as dying embers coated the air from their violent clash.

Steven felt his dagger slipping from his tight grasp after that impact.

’Great... super strength and skill,’ he mused as Drake attacked again.

This time Drake was faster. He thrust his sword toward Steven’s torso. Steven dodged again, but the moment he moved, Drake’s blade bent toward him sharply, as if it had predicted where he would be.

This time, Steven was not lucky enough to escape unscathed.

The blade tore deeply into the side of his leg, barely grazing the bone. He staggered backward once more, hissing in pain.

"Damn!"

Drake dove again without giving Steven time to rest, clearly intent on taking his life this time as he lunged forward, aiming a thrust straight for Steven’s neck.

{Stun}

Steven activated his skill at the last moment.

To Drake, everything suddenly froze. His body locked in place, suspended as though bound by invisible chains. Steven took advantage immediately, stepping forward and thrusting his dagger toward the skull of the vicious murderer.

Swoosh!

To his dismay, Drake broke free of the daze, leaping backward in retreat and escaping unscathed.

’Shit! How the hell did he break out of Stun?’ Steven complained inwardly, his outer appearance tightening. In that moment, when he had used the skill, he could have won. He could have driven the blade into Drake’s skull and killed him.

After all, it was a skill that had frozen Steven for a full second when it had been used against him by the Dreadling he killed to obtain it. So why had it failed now, after barely a second, against Drake?

Confusion twisted into anger.

’If I had even gotten a scratch with the Red Fang, I would still feel some sense of accomplishment,’ he grunted.

Meanwhile, Drake rubbed his face with his hand, staining it further with Favour’s blood, before chuckling softly.

That sound made Steven even more disgruntled.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

Drake let the question linger before replying.

"That was really a good skill, might I say, Steven. I would have died if I hadn’t been cautious. You are truly a wasted fool." He stressed the last part deliberately, taunting him.

"Or more like thanks to whatever future sight you possess! You fucking bastard!" Steven spat.

Drake’s amused look suddenly sufficed, leaving only an irritating confidence behind.

"I do not read the future. Do not be foolish. I see Fate."

"Fate..." Steven repeated, his tone anxious.

"Yes. My Fate, and all I that I see, I can read all their fates." Drake began walking toward Steven again with the same mocking confidence as before. "That is how I know you won’t win this, Stevee. You should have just taken up my deal, and we’d be home by now."

Steven tensed, preparing himself for the next barrage.

When it came, he was instantly forced onto the defensive as Drake attacked, swinging his blade with rampaging fortitude. Each strike was fast, and the moment Steven managed to block one, a second followed immediately.

Injuries began to accumulate all over his body. His legs were torn and bleeding profusely. His hands grew weary from constant swings and desperate blocks. Sometimes Drake drove a knee into his gut so hard that Steven staggered back, gasping for air.

Drake did not kill him, even when he had the chance.

Instead, he chose to beat Steven, to torture him with both shallow and deep cuts. This battle was entirely in his grasp, the grasp of someone who could see Fate itself and decide which outcome would come to pass and which would be denied.

Steven was denied.

The ability to fight back was denied. Even the chance to land a single meaningful strike was denied. Seeing an opening, he dove in and swung his dagger forward—

Drake caught his hand effortlessly, twisting it aside so the attack missed completely. He stepped forward and struck Steven across the head with the pommel of his longsword.

Steven staggered, grunting in pain. His vision was drenched in blood. His body cried out in protest, begging for rest. His mind raced with a single, suffocating question—

How could he defeat someone who could see Fate itself?

There was no answer.

Fate itself had enslaved him into this realm, the Fated Colosseum, and placed him here with this divine monster.

There was no way to win.

Even using his Stun skill multiple times only granted him brief delays. A single second at most. Each time his attack almost connected, Drake moved again and evaded it with ease.

’He’s basically reading my moves before I even make them,’ Steven gritted his teeth, feeling himself pushed desperately against the wall by Drake’s relentless assault.

If this continued any further, surely, jis life would come to an end.

But the question still remained.

How would he defeat someone who could see Fate?