Travis hesitated, his instincts telling him to be cautious. But the man didn’t seem hostile—at least not yet. “I’m Travis,” he said reluctantly. “Now, how do I get out of here?”


    Xavier chuckled, a dry and humorless sound. “That, my friend, I don’t know. If I did, I wouldn’t still be here, would I? Now tell me—what’s a kid like you doing in a place like this? Most slaves here are brought in with their families or captured during raids.”


    “I don’t know,” Travis admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was sleeping, and when I woke up, I was here.” His eyes scanned the chamber, hoping to spot his belongings, but his bag was gone. The realization made him sigh in frustration.


    Xavier tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re half-naked.”


    Travis shifted uncomfortably. “I was fighting a monster. It tore up my clothes pretty bad.”


    “Ah,” Xavier said, nodding as if that explained everything. He turned and walked back to a corner, where a worn-out bed sat against the wall. Lowering himself onto it, he gestured for Travis to sit or relax, though Travis stayed where he was.


    “So,” Xavier began, “you look like you’ve got some strength in you. What’s your class?”


    “My… class?” Travis asked, confused.


    Xavier stared at him as if he’d just grown a second head. “You don’t know what a class is? You’re joking, right?” He paused, studying Travis’s face. “Unless… you grew up in some backwater village. That’d explain the ignorance. Alright, let me spell it out for you. A class is basically a title that describes your abilities. Swordsman, Mage, Archer—you get the idea. So, what’s yours?”


    “I guess I’m a Swordsman,” Travis said uncertainly.


    “That’s not bad,” Xavier replied with a nod. “As for me, I’m a Fighter, if you couldn’t already tell.”


    Travis leaned back against the bars, processing the information.


    “A Swordsman, huh?” Xavier mused. “Well, let’s hope your skills live up to the name, kid. In a place like this, you’re going to need every ounce of strength you’ve got.”


    "You said something about us fighting for people''s entertainment," Travis began. "Is there a goal, or are we just fighting for our lives?"


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    Xavier leaned back, folding his arms as he thought. “Well, I guess you could say it’s both. You’re fighting to survive no matter what, but there is an objective. Winning matches earns you the chance to buy your freedom. That’s the carrot they dangle in front of us. Most of the people here are either prisoners of war or, more commonly, folks drowning in debt.”


    “Damn,” Travis muttered under his breath. “I’m neither of those. So how the fuck am I supposed to leave?”


    Xavier’s sharp eyes flicked toward him. “You’re lucky they haven’t slapped a collar on you yet.” He tapped the metal band circling his neck, the cold, dull clink echoing in the chamber.


    Travis’s gaze locked on the collar, a cruel-looking device etched with faint runes. “What’s that supposed to do?”


    Xavier’s expression darkened. “Once this thing is on, it’s game over. There’s no getting it off unless you’re dead. And at that point, it doesn’t matter, does it?”


    Travis felt a chill run down his spine. '' He’s right, '' he thought. '' I still have a shot at getting out of here. I just need to figure out a plan. ''


    As the silence stretched, Xavier’s sharp gaze never left Travis. The old man couldn’t shake the strange sense that this kid wasn’t like the others. There was something about him—raw, unrefined, but undeniably powerful. The idea that flickered in Xavier’s mind took root.


    '' Why not? I’ve got nothing to lose. If this kid’s got potential, maybe he can make it out of this hellhole. I sure as hell won’t.''


    “Hey, kid,” Xavier called, breaking Travis’s train of thought. “Come over here.”


    Travis turned, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want now?”


    “Just come here,” Xavier said, his tone more insistent.


    Travis hesitated but eventually stepped forward, stopping a few meters away from the older man. His wariness was evident, but curiosity pushed him to comply. “What is it?” he asked, crossing his arms.


    Xavier studied him for a moment, his piercing eyes scanning every inch of the younger man as if assessing him. “Closer,” he said, motioning with his hand.


    Suddenly, Travis felt a tap on his shoulder. Instinctively, he lurched forward, spinning around to see who it was. His eyes widened when he saw Xavier standing there, a sly grin on his face.


    Travis’s gaze darted back to where Xavier had been sitting moments ago, only to find the corner empty. His heart raced. What the fuck?!


    "You saw that," Xavier said casually, strolling back to his spot and sitting down like nothing had happened. “That’s one of the skills you gain if you learn my fighting technique. So, what do you say? Want me to teach you?”


    Travis stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what he’d just witnessed. Xavier’s speed was unreal—inhuman, even. He hadn’t even heard the man move. In this grim world, where death seemed to lurk around every corner, knowing that someone could have killed him in the blink of an eye sent shivers down his spine.


    '' Man, I hate my luck, '' he thought, his fists clenching unconsciously. '' What kind of mess have I gotten myself into? ''


    He exhaled shakily and leaned against the wall for support, keeping his eyes on Xavier. “Alright,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing in his mind.


    “How do I learn your technique?”


    Xavier chuckled, clearly amused by Travis’s cautious demeanor. “Smart question, kid. Learning my technique isn’t just about swinging your fists faster or hitting harder. It’s about mastering your mind and your body to work as one—becoming so attuned to your surroundings that you don’t think, you just react.”


    Travis furrowed his brow. “That sounds… vague.”


    Xavier shrugged. “It’s not something I can just explain to you. You’ve got to experience it. But first, we need to see if you’ve got the foundation for it.” He stood up, stretching his arms. “Take a swing at me.”


    “What?” Travis asked, his stomach sinking.


    “You heard me. Hit me,” Xavier said, his grin widening. “And don’t hold back. I need to see what I’m working with.”


    Travis hesitated. “What if I actually hit you?”


    Xavier barked out a laugh. “Kid, if you manage to hit me, I’ll start calling you ‘Master.’ Now stop wasting time and come at me.”


    Travis narrowed his eyes, his body tensing.


    '' This guy’s insane, '' he thought, but he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, he pushed off the wall and charged at Xavier, throwing a punch with all his strength.


    Before he even registered what had happened, Xavier was behind him again, his hand tapping Travis lightly on the back of the head. “Too slow,” he said with a smirk.


    Travis whirled around, his heart pounding. “How the hell…?”


    “That’s step one,” Xavier said, crossing his arms. “You’ve got potential, kid. Now let’s see if you can survive the training "


    TO BE CONTINUED