The Rise of Seraphine

*Thud*

*Thud*

*Thud*

*Thud* 

The relentless sound of Braun's fists crashing into Seraphine's body echoed across the arena like thunder. 

The once-roaring crowd had fallen into an eerie silence. Gasps of horror replaced their earlier cheers, and the excitement had turned into a visible sense of dread. 

"Braun… isn't stopping," the announcer stammered, his once-enthusiastic tone reduced to a murmur. "This… this is brutal." 

The Queen, sitting on her throne high above the arena, observed the scene with a steady gaze. Her brows knitted ever so slightly, showing a trace of discomfort. She didn't speak, but her frown deepened as blood began pooling beneath Seraphine's crumpled body. 

Braun's fists continued to rain down, his massive body hunched over Seraphine as if he were a machine programmed for destruction. Each punch landed with precision, drawing more blood from her limp. 

The crowd couldn't bear to watch any longer.