The audience burst into cheers as the ogre defeated his drugged opponent. For a moment, even the ogre felt blessed and excited, as though he were everyone's champion.
He raised his enemy's head high, drawing even louder ovation. He planted a heel on the fallen chest and threw his shoulders back like a statue. Ropes of muscle stood out under oily skin, and steam curled from the blood on his forearms. He let the head tilt so that the severed hair trailed down his bicep like a banner.
Arena torches picked out every scar. He bellowed once, low and proud, and the sound rolled through the pit. The bronze collar bit into his neck as he threw back his head. For a heartbeat he looked less like property and more like a crowned brute. The crowd howled names for him: ogre, monster, champion, anything that let them belong to his victory, if only for a breath. He basked in it, thinking he might become something more than a slave soon!
Han clapped his hands once, his eyes cool.
