Within the shattered temple, an armored warrior whose limbs were twisted and broken, with a shocking indentation on his chest, lifted his head to gaze at the sacred and rugged sky above the temple and sighed weakly.
"My Lord, I have done my best."
The indentation on his chest vaguely resembled the shape of a fist. Despite such a serious injury, he did not die, for his life had transcended the mortal realm, leaving him only temporarily deprived of his ability to fight, which was not a significant consequence.
Like him, there were many Temple Gladiators who were defeated but had not lost their lives, merely their ability to battle. They too lay on the ground with complex expressions, looking up at the sky.
Today, within the temples they guarded, they had all been single-handedly defeated by a young challenger, an achievement that would be laughed at by the world if it were known.