Chapter 400: Krix the Venomous
Jack scanned the seating arrangents visible through archways leading to the arena. The Colosseum was organized in tiers, each section offering different views and presumably different levels of prestige.
"Near the announcer’s booth," Jack decided. "I want a clear view of whoever’s running this show."
They made their way through the crowd, Jack’s armor drawing stares wherever they passed. Demons gave them a wide berth, their expressions ranging from curious to hostile.
A few brave souls started to approach before thinking better of it, sothing about Jack’s presence warning them off.
The announcer’s booth was impossible to miss. A crystallized structure jutting from the Colosseum wall like a tumor, elevated to provide perfect sightlines across the entire arena. Jack led his group to a section of seating directly below it, claiming spots that offered excellent views.
The arena floor stretched before them, a perfect circle of polished stone surrounded by seating that rose in graduated tiers.
Every seat was occupied by creatures that belonged in nightmares. The crowd’s roar was constant, a wall of sound that pressed against Jack’s consciousness.
And then, a sudden movent in the announcer’s booth caught his attention.
A figure erged, and Jack felt his blood turn to ice.
The Lich Lord was unmistakable from this distance. His skeletal fra was draped in robes that were decorated with runes that pulsed with necrotic energy.
A crown of blackened bone sat atop his skull, and when he moved, the air around him shimred with death magic.
But it was the skull itself that made Jack’s hands clench around his spear.
He knew that face. The lich who supposedly tried to kill him when he was six years old, the assassins who’d driven a cursed blade into his back and left him for dead.
Valdoren the Magnificent.
[Entity Identified: Valdoren the Magnificent]
[Class: Lich Lord]
[Level: 89]
[Field Boss]
[Threat Level: EXTRE]
[Warning: Entity displays hostile attention towards you]
Jack’s vision narrowed, red lightning crackling across his gauntlets as rage threatened to overwhelm him. Every instinct scread at him to attack, to summon Oscar and drive the spear through Valdoren’s skull, to make him pay for what he’d done...
Corvin’s claws dug into his shoulder, the sharp pain cutting through the fury. Through their bond, Jack felt the raven’s warning: Control. Patience.
This was not the mont.
Jack forced himself to breathe, to think rather than react. Attacking Valdoren now would be suicide. The lich was level 89, surrounded by thousands of demons, and clearly held significant authority in this place. Jack would be dead before he took three steps.
’System,’ Jack thought, his internal voice tight with barely contained rage. ’Remind
of my quest status.’
[Quest: Learn Who Tried to Kill You]
[Status: Incomplete]
[Reward: ???]
The quest was still active despite Jack literally staring at the person who’d been responsible for a blade into his chest.
Which ant either Valdoren wasn’t actually responsible, or there were layers to this assassination attempt that Jack hadn’t uncovered yet.
Neither option was comforting.
Valdoren stepped to the edge of the announcer’s booth, his skeletal hands gripping a black-iron microphone. When he spoke, his voice bood across the Colosseum with supernatural amplification, cutting through the crowd’s roar like a knife.
"LADIES, GENTLEN, AND INDESCRIBABLE HORRORS!" Valdoren’s voice carried theatrical enthusiasm that made Jack’s skin crawl. "WELCO TO TODAY’S SPECTACULAR ENTERTAINNT!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound so loud that Jack felt it in his bones. Thousands of inhuman voices raised in anticipation, creating a wall of noise.
"I am Valdoren the Magnificent, your host for this afternoon’s bloodshed!" The lich gestured dramatically. "We have EXCELLENT matches lined up today. Skilled warriors, brutal combat, and the ever-present possibility of GLORIOUS DEATH!"
More cheers. The crowd was eating it up; their bloodlust was palpable.
"But first," Valdoren continued, "let
introduce you to our CHAMPION! The warrior who has dominated this arena for CENTURIES! UNDEFEATED in over TWO THOUSAND battles!"
Gates set into the arena floor began to open, massive chanisms grinding as portals to holding areas revealed themselves. From the largest gate erged a figure that made even the confident demons in the crowd lean forward with interest.
The Champion stood nearly three ters tall, his body a masterwork of muscle and scarred flesh. He wore minimal armor, just enough to protect vital areas without restricting movent.
His skin was dark as volcanic rock, marked with scars that told stories of countless battles. He carried a massive two-handed sword that glead with dark enchantnts, the blade easily as tall as Jack.
[Entity Detected: The Undefeated Champion]
[Rank: Nightmare]
[Level: 55]
[HP: 112,000/112,000]
[Warning: Extrely dangerous combatant]
The Champion walked to the center of the arena with complete confidence. He didn’t acknowledge the crowd’s roar or show any emotion at all.
He stood there, sword held casually, waiting for whatever opponent would be thrown at him.
"And his challenger," Valdoren announced, "a warrior who has survived the pits of Floor 15! Skilled with blade and poison! Give your attention to... KRIX THE VENOMOUS!"
The opposite gate opened, revealing a demon smaller than the Champion, barely two ters tall, with skin like tarnished copper.
He carried two green sickles that glead with obvious enchantnts, the blades curved and wicked-looking.
[Entity Detected: Krix the Venomous]
[Rank: Dread]
[Level: 42]
[HP: 37,000/37,000]
[Abilities: Poison Strike, Enhanced Agility, Dual Wielding]
"An interesting matchup," Pho observed quietly from beneath his hood. "The Champion outclasses him significantly in raw power, but those sickles..."
"Poison weapons," Jack finished, his eyes tracking the green shimr along the blades. "Krix is betting on attrition rather than direct confrontation."
Valdoren raised one skeletal hand, and the crowd’s noise sohow managed to intensify even further. "FIGHTERS! ARE YOU READY?"
The Champion didn’t respond; he shifted his stance slightly. Krix spun his sickles in a flourish, showcasing his skills for the audience.
"Then... BEGIN!"
Valdoren’s hand dropped, and the fight exploded.
Krix moved first; his agility carried him forward in a blur of copper and green hues. He went low, sickles slashing at the Champion’s legs in coordinated strikes that would have crippled most opponents.
The Champion’s response was almost lazy in its efficiency. His massive sword ca down in a vertical slash that forced Krix to abort his attack and roll sideways.
The blade hit the arena floor with a sound like thunder, actually cracking the stone where it landed.
"He’s holding back," Father Caelen observed, his voice carrying confusion. "The Champion could end this in seconds if he wanted."
"Entertainnt value," Loryn replied, his purple eyes gleaming with understanding. "The crowd wants a show, not a quick execution. The Champion is prolonging the fight deliberately."
Krix ca in again, this ti from the side, his sickles moving in patterns that were hard to follow. The Champion blocked with his sword, the clash of tal ringing across the arena.
But one of Krix’s sickles slipped past the guard, scoring a shallow cut across the Champion’s ribs.
The crowd roared approval, and Jack saw green poison shimr along the wound.
"First blood to the challenger!" Valdoren announced, his voice carrying excitent. "Will this be an upset? Can Krix the Venomous actually defeat our Champion?"
The Champion’s expression didn’t change, but his subsequent attack was noticeably faster. His sword beca a blur of dark tal, each swing powerful enough to shatter bone. Krix barely managed to dodge; his agility was the only thing keeping him alive.
But he was landing hits. Minor cuts and shallow wounds, which individually ant nothing. But each one carried poison, and Jack could see the green shimr spreading across the Champion’s skin as toxins entered his bloodstream.
"Smart strategy," Jack muttered. "Death by a thousand cuts. Build up enough poison, and even the Champion’s massive health pool won’t matter."
"Assuming he lives long enough," Pho countered. "The Champion is getting faster. More aggressive. He knows what Krix is trying to do."
The fight continued. Krix danced around the Champion’s attacks, his sickles finding gaps in the defense, landing cut after poisoned cut.
The Champion’s counterattacks grew more savage, each swing of that massive sword coming closer to ending the fight.
Then Rhys spoke up, his voice carrying confusion. "Why is everyone staring at us?"
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