The dreaded night came and we were in the arena. There was no time to waste, so I started. I unsheathed my dagger, 6 inches of pure bronze, and held it up feeling my true power. Then I thrusted it straight into my opponent, nearly missing the target. I struck a few more times in the same area to increase the damage made. I backed off a bit, seeing the gash in the opponent covered in blood and throbbing red. I then focused on a new target and made a few penetrations. My dagger dripped with blood and sweat. I could see the misery and suffering in my opponents eyes. I stopped my assault. And we both went to sleep.
