Sound of cheering crowd exploded right at Damocles's face like an enormous beast ready to swallow him whole, as he staggered back from it. Not his first time stepping in the arena, however something was amiss. In fact, it was as amiss, as if Damocles somehow brought sword to a shooting contest.

He sighed deeply, trying to calm down his traitorous heart, albeit without any success. Damocles never prayed to Kagami so fiercely as he silently begged right now to not let the crowd see his hesitation. Speaking of Kagami, they stopped answering his calls. It won't be a big deal... If only Damocles haven't made himself a name by secretly using enchanted by Kagami sword. And if only that said sword would work on its own, without Their Highness blessing...

"More like... Their Silentness" Damocles mused to himself, smirking nervously. He shrugged his shoulders, bracing himself for the fight. For the first round, his opponent seemed unprepared, probably thrown there as a punishment for something, as he trembled violently. Damocles's smirk faded faster than extinguished candlelight. He gripped his sword, anchoring himself. Was this all just a game for the crowd? He clenched his jaw unconsciously.

"Don't look on his face", Damocles warned himself, tightening his grip on the hilt. "Don't you dare to look", he breathed out, allowing surroundings to blend him in, as if he was merely the sand on the arena, quiet wind traveling around vast space... And somewhere in this harmony Damocles found himself surging forward, blade of the sword shining dazzlingly, as he slashed forward.

Slurping sound of cut flesh erupted, hitting him harder than cheering noise from before. Amidst this deafening chaos Damocles heard choked pained sound. He glanced at the wound. Fresh. Neither deep, nor shallow. Not killing at the spot, but not allowing to just brush it off either. Damocles looked down on his sword. Bloody. He never thought about it before, but with Kagami's blessing, the sword never got dirty or missed the target, always making a mess anywhere, but not on the blade.

Nonetheless, his opponent slowly slumped on the ground. Damocles looked up. Crowd was silent, observing. As if everyone in the arena had a collusion with him - no one in the audience would reveal that Damocles was cheating, while Damocles pretended to actually fight, not just using auto-aiming sword, which also was powered by self-proclaimed god with association to Ichor. Only now he realized the irony. But it stopped to matter the next second, as crowd erupted into... Applause.

Damocles couldn't hold back the wolfish grin, gripping his face. He once again escaped and now it was only–

Somehow, he noticed movement from the ground before any damage could be done, now pinning other man's hand to the ground with the foot. "Not happening", Damocles gritted out, his smirk growing even wider. He shot his head up, looking at the arena. All he saw was raised fingers. Surprising, but not unpleasant. Damocles stepped back, before gripping man's hand, helping him to stand up, as slaves rushed to get the defeated out of the arena.

As they led the man away, Damocles stood there, without any movement. How many he was able to spare and how many he had to kill? He shook his head, stroking forehead as if it could help him remember or rather forget the times he actually looked at his opponent's faces and saw the light fade away from their eyes. No one was dragging him here, yet it still didn't sit right to him. If it wasn't about the money, he wouldn't even be there.

But as his eyes laid on his next opponent, his eyes shot up. Perhaps, this one would not only put up a good fight, but also survive like the last one...? At least, he wished to think like he nearly won, in reality, Damocles trembled slightly, gripping his sword too tightly, as if letting it go for even a moment would be fatal.