The cheer from the crowd was deafening.
Inside the arena, Anlet-Un-Ri stood, covered in blood, some of it her own, the rest from her fallen opponents.
She knew her injuries were serious and that they required attention.
But the tournament was far from over.
More than 30 men, fresh, strong and ready to fight, stood between her and the winning purse.
Anlet-Un-Ri turned to face them.
Each man gripped his weapon firmly, ready to attack.
It appeared for a moment as if they had forgotten the rules of combat, and had all decided to turn on her, 30 against one.
Even without her gaping wound, Anlet-Un-Ri knew that she could never defeat so many all by herself.
She readied herself and struck a defensive pose.
Just then, the Pharaoh held up his hands once more.
The crowd fell silent, and t
