My opponent this time was a fire mage.

Balls of fire sailed and crashed at me as I raised my arms in front of my face, choosing to brave the assault head on. I charged forward as I allowed Ragnarok to gradually slip into my system, trying my best to achieve a balance between power and sanity. It's a give-or-take relationship when it comes to my magic. The more of my sanity I decided to let go, the stronger I became through Ragnarok.

Killing this fire mage doesn't require me to go insane.

I saw the desperation in his eyes. He increased the firepower in his spells the closer I got to him but nothing he did managed to slow me down.

His fire did nothing from receiving a skull shattering punch to his face that ended his life in a single blow.

The crowd cheered and went wild as the announcer declared me the winner of this deathmatch. I am too numb to it at this point. Rain or shine, it is fights after fights day in and day out. All I want to do right now is to go back to my cell to rest.

An underground fighting ring was where I found myself when I first regained consciousness after that fateful day. I was bought as a combat slave and I was already here when I woke up. I never knew what happened to my fellow tribesmen who survived and were caught, if any of them even survived like I did. What I am certain of was that fate wouldn't be kind to them as well. The women and girls would probably be turned into sex slaves. As for boys… who knows.

I am now a combat slave, a gladiator fighting for my master in this colosseum. My sole purpose is to entertain the audiences by participating in deathmatches. My race as Vajin is an advertisement in itself, and people from various places would flock just to see me fight. I can still remember my first fight, how I was thrown into the ring without being told a word of what was going on and how I was forced to make my first kill.

What can I say, it gets easier as time goes on.

"- need to be careful. We had been attracting the attention of the Magic Council-"

I barely gave a glance to the guards that were walking past my cell. I hadn't known where I was when I was still in the village because we were so cut off from the world and the adults never told us a peep about the outside world beyond telling us that it is a dangerous place. Here, there are no such filters. I pretty much pieced out just what kind of world this is after I heard keywords like "Magic Council", "Dark Guilds", and "Wizard Saints" one too many times.

It seems that the world of Fairy Tail is in fact, not much of a fairy tale.

A loud banging on the door of my cell snapped me out of my thoughts. One of the guards gave me a look of contempt as he barked out his orders.

"You are up next! Get a move on!"

"Already? I just finished a match."

"You don't ask the questions here, boy-"

What he said was prematurely interrupted when I picked up a pebble lying just right beside where I was sitting on the cold hard floor of my cell, and flung it at the bars of my cage. A huge dent on the metal bars and an even louder screech rang through the underground cavern we are at.

I slowly got up to my feet. I have no idea how long had passed since I was enslaved but I am probably on the cusp of entering my teens. I had seen the adults of my tribe when I was a child. We are born larger, taller, and more muscular than the average human. Even at my age I easily tower over the guard by a single head.

"D-Don't d-do anything s-stupid," The guard tried to put up a front of false bravado. We were separated by the bars of my cell, I am heavily shackled, collared, and weighed down with magical chains and weights inscribed with runic magic and even then, he took a step backwards with every step I took forward.

I took great satisfaction when the guard released an undignified squeak when I bent the metal bars of my cell with my bare hands to let myself through. The cell is nothing but a pretense, a false sense of security that everyone knew wasn't insufficient in restraining me. What truly kept me in line is the heavy metal collar worn around my neck, inscribed with layers upon layers of magical runes that forced me into subservience of the master that I now have to serve.

I'm sure that sick fuck of that master of mine wouldn't mind if one of his guards went missing in my fit of rage. After all, Vajins are well-known by humans as mindless berserkers.

I picked the guard up by the neck, ignoring his whimpering and begs of mercy, and brought him close to my face.

"Don't, test, me."

Point made, I dropped him and made my way to the fighting ring. I have no clue which gladiator it is I would have to face in a deathmatch this time, but it couldn't be anyone too weak.

After all, the fact that I am still here meant that I had never lost a single fight ever since I first stepped into the ring. Down here, only the strongest will be pitted against the undefeatable berserker of the Vajin race.

"Annnd… on the other side, we haaaave… RAGNAROK!"

The announcer announced my presence once again through the stage name my master had picked for me, the same name of the magic my tribesmen are known for. My foe stood on the opposite end of the ring. I know looks can be deceiving, but he really doesn't look like much. I don't know who he is, never paid attention to whatever the announcer was spewing, but all I know is that the only way I could live on is if he dies by my hands.

We are gladiators, we know the rules that this place works on.

The deathmatch started without delay and I activated Ragnarok. My foe quickly leapt back to keep his distance, his fingers seemingly writing something on the air itself as runic characters shone to life.

Letter magic?

I knew through the gossips I eavesdropped on during my time here that Letter magic isn't exactly uncommon. However, this is not a type of magic that is suited for a deathmatch hosted in a colosseum where audiences pay to watch people fight to the death. Letter magic is known for its versatility, but it is also known for the long preparation time needed before its effects can be invoked. It is not a magic suited for such a situation where life and death are usually decided in an instant.

However, I also cannot ignore the fact that he was chosen to be pitted against me is also an indication that he is not the average Letter mage.

The speed of his invocation was admittedly faster than what I expected it to be. I couldn't tell just what characters he wrote, but his letters tried to skewer me like me on a stick. It would have worked if I wasn't a Vajin, because Ragnarok automatically ignores the effects of magic spells thrown at me below a certain power level. The stronger I am as a mage, the stronger the spells I can shrug off and at this point I am gradually reaching the level where I am starting to be able to ignore the harmful effects of B class magic being used on me.

Being fast isn't enough, the Letter mage needs to have more power behind his spells if he wants to live.

I can see that the Letter mage flustered for a brief moment upon seeing his spells being brushed off like that. To his credit, he recollected himself quickly and wrote something again, giving him the speed to dodge my charge and freely hover in the air.

I narrowed my eyes in annoyance. I always hated facing opponents who could fly or do something similar because Ragnarok doesn't give me any kind of long range offensive capabilities. Thankfully, there is more than one way to skin a cat.

I crouched down, my superstrength allowing my fingers to dig through the dirt ground below with ease as I easily broke apart the ground below us, gouging out a huge boulder in the process. The grin on my face probably unsettled the Letter mage as I cocked my arm back, took aim, and hurled the gigantic boulder at him with so much force that it created a sonic boom in its wake.

Sometimes, you got to love how magic just fucks over the laws of physics.

The boulder shattered upon impact, and I could feel my eyebrows raising a little higher in appreciation at how the Letter mage had somehow managed to cast a barrier around himself in such a short moment. However, while his barrier had protected him from harm, it doesn't seem to have protected him from the sheer kinetic impact of the boulder because he was being slammed into the rock wall from the force alone.

I could make do with that.

The key with dealing with a Letter mage is to not let them have the time to think and prepare a countermeasure, so I simply repeated the process again and again. I became a human ballistic cannon, ramming him with boulders after boulders that his barriers are barely managing to protect him from. My unending stamina and strength is surely going to outlast his magical reserves. Besides, if all else fails I can always choose to activate Ragnarok at full strength and simply break his barrier apart with my bare hands.

Then, as with almost all my opponents do before they breathe their last, the Letter mage did one last desperate gambit. Their one last desperate attempt for survival just like how a cornered rat will attack a cat in its very last moments.

Large magical arrays spread out with the Letter mage as the epicenter, layered with sigils and symbols whose meanings are lost to me. They shone in a bright light, the magical pressure of it so powerful that it is able to restrict my movements. The earth actually groaned at the power being released and the underground colosseum that we were fighting in actually trembled.

Alright, maybe I had been underestimating the lanky Letter mage a tad too much. Still, it's nothing I couldn't handle.

I decided to give in more to my insanity, increasing the power of Ragnarok and thereby boosting my resistance to magic. I was free to move once more. I made a powerful leap, right arm cocked back in preparation for a powerful punch that I am sure would break that Letter mage's annoying barrier.

I was promptly intercepted by eight beams of blinding light crashing into me from different angles, bathing me in a surge of destructive power that had me yowling in pain. I'm no stranger to pain, and Ragnarok always heals the wounds I suffered, but that doesn't mean the process is an enjoyable one.

I found myself capable of physically grabbing onto those beams of light. So, I grabbed onto one of those beams and with some difficulty, managed to crush it into smithereens with my bare hand. Immediately, more beams of light rained down on me, increasing the destruction being wrought on me with every passing second and forcing me to ramp up the power behind Ragnarok.

Throughout the indescribable pain, my eyes were able to somehow pick out how the runes that were inscribed onto the heavy collar around my neck were shining in response. I forgot all about the pain for the moment, too curious about this phenomena that I had never seen before. This cursed collar is the only thing holding me back from murdering everyone present, the only thing keeping me in check and enslaving me to the will of the sick fuck that I had to call my master.

Naturally, anything relating to it would catch my immediate attention.

It was then I realised that my mind had never been more clear, my thoughts feeling the freedom that I had missed ever since that fateful night. I cannot help but show an uncontrollable grin. I don't know how or why and I don't really care why such an interaction is possible, but somehow, whatever spell the Letter mage is casting with his magic seems to be able to interfere with the runes inscribed onto the collar around my neck.

For once in a long time, I felt hope once more.

As if desperate to survive, the Letter mage increased the output of his magic spell, probably trying to kill me once and for all. Ragnarok is working overtime to try and keep me alive. I had never been under the assault of such powerful magic before. Despite that, my hands rose to grip onto the collar that had been shackling my freedom for what seems like forever. I increased my grip on it, praying with all my heart and soul that my conjecture is right.

The collar started to crack. It was small and unnoticeable at first, but the crack gradually grew, and grew, and then the entire collar which had been shackling me down shattered entirely as my magic burst forth to repel everything in my vicinity. I could hear the crowd's surprised gasps, the cries of horror when some of the smarter ones understood what it meant for a combat slave to escape their master's control.

And I am someone who has remained undefeated on this stage for years.

My wounds started to heal rapidly. I could see the dark mages who were being employed as guards in this place starting to move to restrain me. Fate has granted me the chance of a lifetime and I am not going to let it go to waste.

Ragnarok

I leapt, arms raised above my head, fists clenched, and sailed in the direction of the Letter mage. I showed him a maniacal grin. He is really a lifesaver so as thanks, I will ensure that he at least gets to enjoy a swift and painless death.

I swung my fists down, breaking his barrier instantly and his head splattered into an unrecognisable mess upon the impact. There, swift and painless, just a little messy.

I did not dare to stop. I immediately scaled the walls and once I reached an appropriate height, jumped off and dove towards the ground, right towards the sick fat fuck who I had to call my master. I saw how he tried to scramble out of the way, I saw how afraid he was of me when he realised that nobody will be fast enough to save him from my wrath.

He's going to be the first one to die.

Death came too swift for him. I threw my head up and roared, my skin darkening and runic lines spreading across my entire body as I felt the power of my tribe calling out for me. I never felt so free, so exhilarated, so… unshackled as the power of my magic reinvigorated my entire being and made me feel as if I could take on the entire colosseum itself.

No, it's not if, but the fact that I can bath the colosseum in blood. I just knew it.

The first time I truly gave in to insanity was the very first time I used Ragnorak to fight for my life, honour, freedom, and dignity. Today, I gave into insanity for the very second time, for the very same reasons. Today, I will remind the world why my tribe was so feared and why it is a very bad idea to cross us.

I don't even care if I turn out to be the only Vajin left in this world. With my bare fists, I will carve their fear of us into the bodies of everyone present. Into their blood, bone, and soul.

Don't mess with the Vajins.

My skin turned darker, the runic lines spreading across my body grew, my vision turned red as I charged right into my battle for freedom and dignity. It's time.

It's Ragnarok.