The Fall of Everything [Rewrite]

Corvus now had only about two hundred men left in front of him. All the rest of the warriors had shown their skill and sealed their fate. These two hundred men had just used their last chance. Those who had won the first round of fights had risen straight into Corvus' favor. As the defeated men writhed in despair, Corvus gave them another chance. Some were unable to participate in this second round of fights because of severe injuries. Others, even in defeat, managed to prove their skills.
In total, three fights were fought and in the end there were two hundred people left. These two hundred people had lost all their fights, but they were neither unable to fight nor had they given up. They had not left the field because they were still looking for one last chance.
One of them was a man named Varick. Varick was a father of three children, a fighter who had been unemployed for a long time. His father, although a good warrior, had one day challenged a Sharizar from a big family. Varick's father won the fight, but the members of the losing family could not take the defeat and provoked others to challenge Varick's father at every opportunity. Eventually, Varicke's father was permanently disabled. Varick suffered great hardship in his youth because of this. The father's inability to work and the mother's barely earning enough money to support eight children taught him deeply what it meant to be poor. As his hatred for the unjust system of big families grew, his dream of becoming a warrior never faded.
After years of effort, Varick finally entered Varek's service a few months ago; now he was under Corvus. However, he was likely to be out of a job, having lost all three fights before he could make a single move. Unfortunately, all of Varick's opponents were among the strongest in the group. The moment Corvus stood before them, a desperate hope flashed inside Varick: "One more chance... Please, just one more chance..." he muttered. He stood in the front row, a few feet away from Corvus. But things did not go as he thought. Corvus' words shattered Varick's hopes.
"I gave you three chances! Three chances, and not even once have you been able to defeat your opponent. Some of you, though defeated, managed to show their skills, but you! You couldn't do anything! I don't need losers like you!"
Corvus' harsh words pierced Varick's heart like a dagger. Another dream, perhaps his last hope, shattered under the weight of those words. He felt wronged, just as his father had once been. Perhaps if he had faced a different opponent, he might have won. And why was Corvus being so cruel? There were countless Sharizars out there with no soldiers at their disposal, and he was wasting what he had. But the answer was obvious, Corvus belonged to a great family, like those who had injured his father. Finding unworthy warriors like himself should have been no problem for him.
These thoughts boiled inside Varick like a volcano. His anger reflected in his face, his veins bulged and defined, a dark fire flashed in his eyes. This anger, mixed with despair, gave Varick's face a hard, menacing expression. Corvus, standing before him, recognized this rage and the bloodlust directed at him. Almost all of the two hundred men were thinking and raging like Varick, but there was something different about Varick's expression. This anger was not pure aggression, but a challenge from the heart. For a moment Corvus felt a small fear stirring inside him. The darkness in Varick's eyes showed that the courage to stand up to him had been born.
As if to crush this challenge, Corvus stepped towards Varick. The distance between them was now only a few feet. He fixed his eyes on Varick, trying to pierce him with his gaze. Then, as if to suppress the small fear inside him, he exclaimed in a loud voice: "This is my decision! If anyone wants to challenge it, here I am!"
These words were not a challenge, not a threat, but a provocation that only fueled Varick's anger even more. Corvus had put his full weight on Varick to crush him. The flames in Varick's eyes signaled the beginning of a path of no return. He drew his sword and roared as if to prove he was a true Rhazgord warrior. "I am Varick Oran! I challenge you, Corvus of the Tiamats!". Both his roar and his words shocked everyone. Even the soldiers nearby could not believe what they were hearing. Those in other training areas were coming slowly to find the source of the loud noise.
The anger inside Varick was like a volcano, ready to explode. Corvus' silence was like wood thrown on the fire in Varick's soul. It had all started at the moment of the challenge. Corvus was trying to drive Varick into the ground with his gaze. But Varick was too proud a warrior to be defeated by his gaze. Rhazgord's honor was as real as the blood that ran through his veins and he needed to be a soldier to feed his children. So he was determined to give everything he had.
In the center of the circle of soldiers, two fighters stood facing each other. The axe in Varick's hand reflected the light of the sun and struck fear with its gigantic form. On the other side stood Corvus, unarmed, as if this fight was an ordinary event for him. There was no emotion on his face - no fear, no anger, no compassion. Just a cold, calculating expression. This humiliation of Varick's pride fueled his anger even more.
Zarqa gave the order and the fight began. Varick made the first move. He swung his axe with great fury, as if he wanted to knock the man in front of him down in one blow. Corvus, however, showed not the slightest flinch in the face of this attack. Sliding slightly to the side, he skillfully dodged the axe's deadly crescent. Varick, suppressing his disappointment at this failure, immediately attacked once more. This time, he attacked at a wider angle with his axe, but Corvus dodged this attack with the same calmness. Varick's anger was growing; this man was playing games with him, trying to humiliate him.
Varick was preparing to lunge once more when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his ribs. In the blink of an eye, everything had happened. Corvus, silent as a ghost, lunged forward and landed a punch that struck Varick squarely in the ribs. Varick fell to his knees in pain, struggling to breathe. His eyes glazed over for a moment, but he was desperate, he had to defeat Corvus. This forced him to stand up again. He realized Corvus was watching him. Instead of knocking him down and finishing him off, his opponent preferred to humiliate him further. It was a blow to Varick's pride, but it was also an extra push to get back on his feet.
Varick was more careful this time. He could no longer underestimate Corvus' speed and agility. Instead of attacking his opponent, he decided to wait for his move. For a few seconds the two stared at each other, as if searching for each other's weaknesses in the eternity of this moment. Varick's heart pounded in his chest like a war drum. Every moment, he was trying to predict what Corvus would do. And at that very moment, Corvus lunged forward unexpectedly. This move to close the distance and prevent Varick from using his axe was like a death sentence in Varick's eyes.
Corvus swung a punch towards Varick's jaw. Varick, relying on the speed of his reflexes, narrowly dodged this deadly attack. If he had been a split second too late, he would have been knocked down. His heart began to beat even faster. The man in front of him possessed not only speed and power, but also a deadly intelligence. Varick realized that this fight was not only a test of brute strength, but also of his intellect.
Corvus' attacks came not with the brute force as Varick was used to, but with a graceful but deadly precision. Every move seemed to be part of a pre-planned strategy. For a moment Varick's anger seemed to give way to fear, but he quickly recovered.
Corvus had noticed Varick's hesitation. The coldness in his eyes provoked the other man even more. Unable to stand the silent taunt any longer, Varick struck again. This time he swung his axe from the bottom up, aiming to catch Corvus off guard. But Corvus, as if anticipating this attack, took a step back and missed the wind created by the axe by only a few inches.
This time he kept his cool and stepped back. He realized that Corvus was expecting the attack, so he decided to disrupt his strategy. Instead of swinging his axe, he suddenly threw a punch with his left hand. This unexpected move distracted Corvus and allowed Varick to deliver a hard kick with his right foot. The kick knocked Corvus off balance and he was forced to step back for a moment. Nevertheless, he was unable to inflict the slightest damage on Corvus.
Not wanting to miss this opportunity, Varick pounced on Corvus. He brought his axe down with great force over his head, but Corvus used his speed to move to the side. With the axe lodged in the ground, Varick was momentarily exposed. Corvus seized the opportunity and delivered a swift kick to Varick's arm. Varick's arm went numb and he dropped his axe. Corvus immediately stepped back, giving Varick a moment to catch his breath, but the look in his eyes told him that this fight was far from over.
Varick stared at his fallen axe, trying to predict what Corvus would do. His opponent had clearly outmaneuvered Varick with this move. But Varick had no intention of giving up. As a Rhazgord warrior, he would fight to the end, even die with honor if necessary. Whether Corvus would give him that chance remained to be seen. Varick took a deep breath and looked up at Corvus. Corvus gestured for him to pick up his axe. Varick swallowed the insult and picked up his axe. His eyes were full of determination and conviction. "It's not over yet," he growled. He was going to win this fight at the cost of his pride. He had to win.
Corvus' expressionless face changed like a sudden flash of lightning through the gloomy gray clouds. His red eyes, typical of the Tiamat, flashed for a moment. Corvus, who had kept his composure until that moment, began to move in the circle of humans like an angel of death. Varick had sensed Corvus' intentions; Corvus had finally decided to end the fight. But Corvus' next move was far beyond Varick's expectations.
Corvus began to walk towards his opponent with calm, calculated steps. Each step was like the sound of death bells echoing across a battlefield. Varick's heartbeat quickened and his hands began to sweat. The cold-blooded approach of his opponent was driving Varick mad inside. But this anger was crushed under the heavy shadow of fear. He wanted to run away, maybe even attack, but he felt as if his feet were crashing to the ground. The darkness that burned in Corvus' eyes had taken Varick completely captive.
When Corvus came within range of Varick's axe, an alarm went off in Varick's mind; there was no turning back. His instincts kicked in and he swung his axe with all his might. This was his last chance, this blow was all he could hope for. However, time seemed to almost stand still. As the sharp edge of the axe moved towards Corvus, for a moment everything became clear in Varick's mind. This attack would bring victory or defeat.
Then came the terrifying moment. With his bare hands, Corvus easily grasped the axe that Varick had put all his hope and energy into. Where steel and flesh met, there was no scar, no blood. Time slowed even more for Varick, everything became a blur. His eyes widened and his heart pounded in his chest. This moment would be forever etched in his mind.
Corvus's fist came at Varick with a force faster and more devastating than thunder. The fist completely obscured Varick's vision. As his eyes widened helplessly in the shadow of the oncoming blow, only one word echoed in his mind: "Lightstone." As this word echoed in his mind, as if from the depths of the past, Varick's body drifted into darkness. As his eyes slowly closed, in that last moment, the dark silhouette of Corvus was etched in his mind. And then, there was only silence.