In another room deep within the coliseum, a man sat hunched on a small wooden stool, his head bowed, eyes fixed on the bare stone wall in front of him. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light a single flickering torch mounted on the wall. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow as he wrapped his bandaged hands tighter, the worn fabric straining against his scarred knuckles.


    A sudden knock on the door shattered his focus. He looked up, his sharp brown eyes narrowing. Without a word, he stood, rolling his shoulders as the tension in his body seemed to ripple outward. The knock came again, more insistent this time. With a final tug on the bandages, he walked to the door.


    Taking a deep breath, he opened it and stepped out. The dim corridor outside offered little comfort, the sounds of the roaring crowd faintly audible in the distance. His lips curled into a tight smirk. This wasn’t his first fight—and he was determined it wouldn’t be his last.


    ---


    On the other side of the coliseum, Travis was being led through a narrow hallway. The noise of the crowd grew louder with each step, a pulsating roar that seemed to vibrate through the stone walls. His palms were slick with sweat, and he wiped them on his pants, his stomach twisting in knots.


    “Fuck, this is not the time to get scared,” he thought, his pace quickening as if moving would chase away the unease. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to steady his nerves. The hallway seemed endless, each step dragging him closer to the unknown.


    ---


    In the center of the coliseum, a man stood confidently, holding a microphone in one hand. His outfit was a dazzling array of gold and crimson, designed to captivate the crowd’s attention. A long feathered hat perched atop his head, and his polished boots gleamed in the sunlight. He raised his free hand, silencing the audience for a brief moment before speaking.


    “Ladies and gentlemen!” he bellowed, his voice booming across the arena. “May I have your attention! My name is Carlos, and for this tournament, I will be your announcer! Today, we have a special fight—one that will determine the freedom of two brave souls!”


    The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, their voices merging into a deafening roar. Carlos grinned, his teeth gleaming as he basked in their energy.


    “Now, let us welcome our first fighter!” he announced, gesturing dramatically to one side of the arena. “On my left, a man with debts so massive they could bankrupt an entire town—Adrian Grant!”


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    The crowd roared again as Adrian strode into the arena. His short brown hair gleamed with sweat under the midday sun. Dressed in nothing but a pair of ragged shorts, his muscular frame was on full display. His body was a testament to years of brutal fights—scarred, battered, and undeniably powerful. Adrian raised a hand to the crowd, a broad smile plastered on his face as he soaked in their cheers.


    “And now,” Carlos continued, turning to the opposite side of the arena, “on my right, the man of the hour! TRAVIS!”


    The crowd’s roar grew even louder, a wave of sound that made Travis’s chest tighten. As instructed, he stepped forward into the tunnel leading to the arena. His heart pounded against his ribcage as sunlight flooded his vision, momentarily blinding him. Squinting, he emerged into the open air and was struck by the sheer size of the coliseum. Thousands of faces stared down at him from the towering stands, a sea of excitement and anticipation.


    He inhaled deeply, his gaze locking onto Adrian at the other end of the arena. His opponent’s confident stance and towering physique only added to Travis’s uncertainty. He had no idea how strong Adrian was or what kind of fighter he was facing. All he knew were the rules—and at this point, that didn’t matter. It was far too late to ask questions.


    Carlos leaped back to the announcer’s podium with dramatic flair, raising his arm high in the air.


    “And now,” he declared, his voice dripping with excitement, “it is time for the tournament to begin!”


    The crowd chanted, their voices counting down with him.


    “Three… Two… One…”


    “Fight!” Carlos shouted, and the arena erupted into chaos as the two fighters stepped forward, their eyes locked in an unspoken challenge.


    Here’s the enhanced version of your fighting scene, with added fluidity, vivid descriptions, and sound effects:


    ---


    Travis stood firm, his hands raised in a disciplined fighting stance. His eyes narrowed, scanning his opponent. He knew nothing about the man facing him—neither his name, his abilities, nor his techniques. It didn’t matter.


    “Alright, let’s do this,” he thought, tension coiling in his muscles like a loaded spring. Just as he prepared to lunge forward, a blur of motion caught his eye.


    A fist shot up from below, lightning-quick yet deliberate.


    *Whoosh!*


    Travis instinctively leaped backward, narrowly evading the devastating uppercut. The air where his jaw had been seconds ago trembled from the force of the near-miss.


    “What was that?!” someone yelled from the crowd. “Adrian moved faster than anything I’ve ever seen! He was inches away from shattering Travis’s jaw with that uppercut!”


    Landing lightly on his feet, Travis steadied himself, shaking off the close call. No time to overthink—just move. But before he could formulate his next attack, Adrian was in front of him again, closing the distance with terrifying speed.


    *Bam!*


    A powerful right jab came streaking toward Travis’s face. Reacting on instinct, he angled his elbow, deflecting the blow downward with a sharp crack. Wasting no time, he countered with a punch aimed squarely at Adrian’s face, but his opponent tilted his head just enough to evade it.


    Adrian’s eyes flickered with focus, calculating his next move. Without hesitation, he stepped back and launched his right leg upward with precision.


    *Thwack!*


    The kick sliced through the air, aimed at Travis’s left arm. It carried a bone-breaking force, but Travis twisted his body, retreating just out of reach. The missed kick left Adrian open—Travis saw his chance.


    With explosive speed, he surged forward and delivered a gut-wrenching punch to Adrian’s abdomen.


    *Boom!*


    The impact reverberated like a thunderclap, and Adrian’s body folded slightly before he was sent skidding backward across the ground. He clutched his stomach, teeth gritted against the pain. Dust trailed behind him, marking his retreat.


    “Unbelievable!” the announcer bellowed. “Travis’s punch landed flush, sending Adrian sliding across the arena! But he failed to capitalize on the opening! The fight’s not over yet!”


    Adrian coughed, straightening up with a grimace. He wiped his mouth, a smirk creeping onto his face.


    “That was a dumb move on my part,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders and settling back into his stance. His voice carried a quiet confidence, an edge of determination. “Well, I won’t be making that mistake again.”


    TO BE CONTINUED