His first fight had left the handlers impressed.

Not so much by the match itself as by the people in the stands who had recognized Technoblade from his Hypixel days. It wasn't exactly what he had planned on happening, but he'd take it. The arena master had him brought into the office again and asked whether there was any truth to the rumors of him being a former champion.

Funny, considering Techno hadn't exactly been keeping that under wraps. It had been part of him convincing them to take his deal. But they must have assumed he was lying. He pretended to need to think about it for a hot second, before shrugging. "Yeah, I guess I did win a couple of times."

Gossip spread like wildfire on smaller servers. Before the end of the week, there would be people showing up to the arena specifically to watch him at work. Others might come to fight him – to find glory in defeating the unbeaten. But all thoughts of putting Ranboo out in the ring were forgotten at once and that was all Techno truly cared about.

Their lunch the next day was a meager helping of porridge served in metal bowls, distinctly lacking any seasoning that would otherwise have made the dish appealing. Ranboo's face contorted in disgust after the first spoonful. "What did they put in here, sawdust?"

Techno kept eating. "And a pinch of sand, I believe."

Sliding his bowl onto the table, Ranboo sat back down. "I miss my infinite cake."

The door swung open, the same handler who had helped Techno gear up yesterday now stepped into the room. He was a short man with cropped green hair and three slits along his neck that Techno assumed were gills. "You, with me." He gestured with one clawed hand. Techno got up to follow him. Ranboo did the same but the man waved him away. "You can stay. They'll send somebody for you when they need you."

Ranboo plopped back down onto his cot, face falling. "Oh, okay."

Techno gave him a glance and a reassuring nod before walking outside. One of the armories was pretty close to their cell and it was the one they went to again, compared to the day before it was bustling with activity. "We're having a battle royale today, last man standing wins. They tend to draw larger crowds," the handler explained at seeing his confusion. "My name is Mel by the way. I'll be in charge of you, so if you ever need anything you know where to find me."

"Right." It had been a while since Techno had competed in a free-for-all. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny there was a tiny part of him that reacted with happy anticipation, as did Chat. They had always loved battle royale tournaments. "Sword and shield?"

"Anything you want really, so long as it's not sharpened. You can immobilize your opponents however you see fit but it's a bloodless match today, newbie stuff. We have a whole arsenal of blunt weaponry for the occasion." Mel grabbed a crossbow off the wall - Techno noticed a thin pale green webbing between his fingers - and turned it over in his hands before throwing it at Techno, leaving him to catch it midair. "You used these back on Hypixel, right?"

"Somebody has been reading up on my Wikipedia page," Techno answered. He was glad to have the bow though. It felt solid in his hands, familiar.

"Bolts are over in the chests," Mel directed. "You can have free pick of the rest too. I'll be around." He turned away to deal with the other fighters.

Techno went and picked up a bundle of the crossbow bolts, noting their solid wooden tips. Non-lethal maybe, but they would still hurt appropriately when making contact with unguarded skin. Reluctantly, he decided to use the misshapen leather armor today. It would be better than nothing out there.

When the match was set to commence, the arrival of the gladiators was complimented by a rising pitch of trumpets playing over the ruckus of screaming voices. The handler hadn't been lying when he said free-for-all matches drew in a larger audience, the stands were packed. Techno stared at the masses and wondered which ones of them knew that this arena used slave labor. Then he wondered which ones would actually care if they did.

There were close to twenty warriors in the ring, give or take. Most of them had opted for swords, making Technoblade pleased with his pick of the blunt battle-ax with a longer handle. Moving fast would be crucial, sure, but hitting hard would be more important still. With this many combatants, the last thing he wanted was a drawn-out fight that would leave him with less stamina when the match was at its most decisive.

He flexed his fingers on the handgrip, trying to use the few seconds he had to spare to get more accustomed to its weight. Fighting with weapons not his own was such a pain, he had never missed his gear as much as he did in this arena. Then the trumpets were cut off by a single gunshot and chaos erupted.

Techno hung back, knowing somebody else was more likely to make a move on him first. As predicted a younger man with scars running up both arms immediately charged at him. Technoblade deflected the blow from their sledgehammer, skidding back in the sand.

Phil would often jokingly compare Techno's fighting style to a dance. Piglin nature, he called it. There was a lightness to his steps, armed with the knowledge that the only attacks needed to be feared were those that connected with their target. All Techno had to do was make it so he didn't get hit, which he was very good at. He caught or dodged their every strike, then with practiced ease he turned the ax in his hands, gracing their chin with the end of the handle. The man flinched, giving Technoblade the opening he needed to catch them unguarded. Slamming the side of the weapon into their chest with enough force it left them on their knees wheezing for breath and probably out of action for the remainder of the battle.

Straightening his back, Techno wasted no time and aimed at the nearest opponent with his crossbow.

It was easy pickings from there on out since most of the other combatants were paired up and engaged in their own skirmishes at this point. Hitting moving targets was a piece of cake when aiming for their torsos, but Techno tried to hit most of them in the legs so there would be less chance of them getting back up. Anybody that did get close to him would meet the business end of his ax.

Before long there was only one other person left standing on the pitch not incapacitated. Her dark eyes narrowed as they fixed on Techno, shoulder-length hair sticking to her sweaty face. A deadly, scaled tail whipped out behind her.

Another hybrid. Techno couldn't know if she was a voluntary participant or fellow prisoner. Chat told him it didn't matter and he was inclined to agree with them.

She ran towards him, dodging the two bolts shot her way. Techno snapped the crossbow back to his side, wielding his ax with both hands instead. Not wasting any of her momentum, she barely slowed down when getting within reach of him and slammed her sword into his side.

Technoblade bit back a hiss, pain flaring upwards from his hip. It wasn't enough to knock him over and his opponent still had her weapon extended. Using that to his advantage he tried to disarm her but failed. Before he could react she had pulled away and moved again, and this time he wasn't in time to dodge.

The sword hit him square in the face, an unpleasant crack echoed through the arena. Technoblade reared back as blood started pouring down his face.

He could taste it on his tongue – metallic, wet. The voices roused alive, always much more eager once blood had been spilled. Swelling in volume, in pitch. Techno didn't mind them swallowing all outside noise. It could help him focus.

The woman had pulled back, surprised that she hadn't managed to throw him with such a powerful hit. Any other person would have surely been downed by it. She surged forward to strike him again but this time Technoblade caught the sword in one hand before it could connect, twisting to unbalance her before slamming his own ax into her temple. She crumbled to the ground immediately.

The post-battle rush passed in a blur. Technoblade walked back to the arches, trying with his arm to stem the bleeding from his broken nose. It hurt – but not worse than some other injuries he's had to endure before. Mel quickly helped him out of his armor, took the ax and crossbow from him, then nodded him in the direction of the infirmary. "So much for a bloodless fight, huh?"

Some of the other participants were already there tending to any wounds they sustained during the match. Inside, Technoblade was surprised to find Ranboo wrapping a bandage around a fighter's wrist. He was probably called in to help because these types of matches meant a lot more fighters were in the ring, likely to get hurt. He looked up at Techno when the piglin entered, dropping his end of the bandage in surprise. The man he was tending to grumbled, trying to catch it before it could roll off onto the floor.

"What happened?!" Ranboo blurted. Then he started shaking his head. "Wait, no, that's not- Stupid question, let me get you a potion or something."

"It's fine," Techno answered, but Ranboo was already in motion. He sat down on one of the cots and grabbed a whole wad of tissue papers, pressing them against his nose. Just as Ranboo was returning to his side, Techno pushed the bone back into place with a sharp crack.

The enderman physically cringed. "Oh my- Did you have to do that?"

"Beats leaving it as is," Techno said simply.

"Here." Ranboo shoved the small health potion into his hands. Techno knew he didn't really need it but drank it anyway, the pain instantly fading under its sickly sweet influence. His nostrils felt clogged up with dried blood.

"Thanks," he said.

"Was it..." Ranboo stopped. Techno waited for him to finish his thought. "Was it hard? The fight."

"Nah." He licked his lips, the telltale sticky aftertaste of glistening melon hard to shake. It had always left him slightly nauseated – one of the several reasons why Techno preferred golden apples. "Turns out fighting in the pit is like riding a bike. You never really forget how to be good at it."

And he didn't want to think about why those words made Ranboo shrink and turn away from him as quickly as they did. He didn't want to think about if it mattered that Ranboo despised what he was doing or not. Technoblade knew he would continue doing it either way.