The silence inside the arena only lasted for a bit as the entire arena exploded into chaos.
"What the hell was that?"
"Did you see him move?"
"No, only his shadow moves."
"What kind of skill was that?"
"The monk’s dead!"
Many players rushed to the edge of the railing while the gamblers scread at the booth.
A few demanded refunds not believing they even lost the safe money. Others also started southing how the machine was rigged from the start.
In all this, the devil spawn already walked into the tunnel connecting to the arena entrance.
The referee finally snapped out of his and rushed in to check the collapsed old monk.
"He’s alive!" the referee shouted.
That only made the crowd louder.
Clinch clicked his tongue. "Why didn’t you tell about your friend? We could have won big here."
Adder just stared at the barely alive monk.
The monk’s body was twitching unnaturally. Even from a distance he noticed the thin black veins crawling all over his body before fading away.
He instantly rembered the scene from the cave.
Corruption!
This reminded him of his own hand. He checked it only to see the mark after using the crimson vial had already disappeared.
’Is it related to his using the crimson vile?’ Adder clicked his tongue.
This was the first ti he had seen a skill that could corrupt soone without even infecting a single wound. Heck, even the old witch required an entire ritual and sacrificed a body part.
There had to be sothing special about that shadow movent.
He rubbed his chin and mumbled. "Interesting..."
Clinch looked at him strangely. "Interesting? Brother, that monster just folded a level thirty fighter without touching him."
Adder ignored him and turned toward the gambling booth.
There, Saitness had already made a big deal about how lucky she was.
She had already started to push past the arguing gamblers and headed after her partner, all while cursing at the crowd blocking her path.
That made Adder pause.’They’re leaving?’
That was unexpected.
If those two were here casually, then fine. But if they ca for a specific purpose...
His gaze slowly drifted upward toward the quieter upper section of the arena.
Several figures in clothes were already standing up from their seats.
Unlike the drunken gamblers below, these people wore luxury from head to toe. Multiple guild players surround these nobles with different guild emblems on them.
Even from afar, it was clear how excited they were about the demon spawn.
Many of them shouted at the guild players while pointing at them.
Adder turned back to the arena as another match had already begun, with most still discussing the previous one.
’Don’t tell reaching those nobles was their goal. Has sothing like that happened in the past?’ He rubbed his head, also not sure about all this incident.
Clinch clicked his tongue. "Looks like the upper dogs already got interested."
Adder turned to Clinch and pointed to Arena. "Can you arrange a fight for ?"
Clinch raised his eyebrow. "Whoa, what got into you?"
Adder just pointed to the arena. "You can arrange it, right?"
Clinch raised his eyebrow. "Any why you think-" He shook his head halfway. "Well, even if I could, why do you think I would do that?"
Adder turned to him. "Didn’t you want to earn big?" He simply took out 2 silver coins. "Here, that’s all I have. Just bet everything on ."
Clinch just stared at the 2 silver coins and then smiled. "You are quite an interesting fellow. Well, if you really want to fight, follow ."
...
Clinch moved quickly through the packed gambling section, weaving between drunk spectators and shouting bookkeepers without slowing once.
Adder followed closely behind.
The deeper they went, the less chaotic the atmosphere beca.
The screaming crowd faded behind thick stone walls as they entered a narrow corridor running beneath the arena seats.
Several ard n moved around the corridor as the Clinch just nodded to them.
Not long after, Adder saw a couple of restless fighters moving around.
None of them looked excited. Most had that familiar dread which he saw on the face of cafe slaves.
Adder just sighed, expecting that more than half of these fighters would likely be from one of the cafes within the nearby city.
Clinch finally stopped before a rusted iron gate guarded by a bald man with scars running across his jaw.
The guard glanced at Adder’s beginner clothes and snorted. "Another new slave?"
Clinch grinned. "Who knows?"
The man raised his eyebrow, but then his gaze shifted toward the silver coin in Clinch’s hand.
That imdiately changed his expression. "How much?"
"One silver for registration. One for betting."
The guard stared at Adder again, this ti more carefully. "You, what’s your level?"
Adder calmly said. "Lowest possible."
The bald guard paused for a bit and then shrugged. He pointed to the side. "Just wait outside, I will call you soon."
With that, the bald man walked away from the tal door as another man took his place.
Clinch pointed outside. "Well, I will wait outside."
Adder just nodded to him and kept staring at the closed tal door.
...
It wasn’t long when the bald guard ca with one of the bookers. The two of them talked among themselves as the book noted down a few things and threw a token to him. "Here, you fight after 2 rounds."
Adder quietly picked the token and closed his eyes waiting for his own turn.
The muffled roar of the arena echoed beyond the iron gate.
Adder leaned against the cold wall while fighters ca and went through the corridor. So returned bruised and limping.
Others never ca back.
A pair of workers dragged a bloodied body past him and tossed it beside the wall like broken trash.
No one reacted.
The fighters waiting nearby only lowered their heads further.
One guy quietly muttered prayers under his breath.
Another kept rubbing his shaking hands.
Adder calmly observed all of them.
’Fear.’
Not fear of death.
Fear of helplessness.
That familiar feeling of being trapped inside soone else’s ga.
Just then, the iron gate opened again.
A skinny young man stumbled out from inside. Half his face was swollen purple, and one of his arms bent unnaturally.
"Next!" the bald guard shouted.
Two n imdiately grabbed the injured fighter and dragged him away while another skinny player was shoved toward the gate.
The new fighter almost tripped.
"I-I surrender," he blurted out instantly.
The bald guard laughed.
"You can surrender after entering."
The skinny fighter turned pale.
Adder watched quietly as the gate closed behind him.
Not even thirty seconds later—
"AHHHHH!"
A horrible scream echoed from inside the arena tunnel.
Then silence.
The corridor beca even quieter.
Clinch slowly walked back from the outer hallway while chewing roasted nuts.
"Bad matchup?" he asked casually.
Adder nodded toward the tunnel.
"How long do fighters survive on average?"
Clinch tossed another nut into his mouth.
"Depends."
"On?"
"Luck."
Adder almost laughed.
Of course.
Luck.
Wrong opponent?
Dead.
Wrong bet?
Dead.
Wrong guild?
Dead.
This entire city worked the sa way.
Suddenly, the iron gate opened again.
This ti, the screaming crowd from outside beca much louder.
"Kill him!"
"Rip his legs off!"
"Push harder!"
The bald guard pointed toward Adder.
"You’re up."
Adder opened his eyes and stood.
The nearby fighters instinctively moved away from him.
So pitied him.
Others looked relieved it wasn’t their turn.
Clinch walked beside him until the gate.
"You sure about this?" he asked one last ti.
Adder rolled his shoulders.
"I need money."
Clinch stared at him for a second before grinning.
"You really are insane."
The bald guard shoved open the gate.
Hot air mixed with blood and sweat slamd into Adder’s face.
The underground noise instantly swallowed him whole.
The tunnel ahead sloped upward toward the arena light.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The crowd’s roar grew louder with every step.
As he erged from the tunnel, blinding torchlight covered the entire arena.
Thousands of eyes instantly shifted toward him.
So laughed imdiately.
"Another beginner?"
"What’s with those trash clothes?"
"Did they pull this guy from the streets?"
"Easy money!"
Adder ignored them all and calmly stepped into the fighting pit.
Across from him stood a massive bald man carrying a rusted battle axe over one shoulder.
Unlike the monk earlier, this man looked more like a butcher than a fighter.
His body was covered in old scars.
A tal chain wrapped around his left arm.
The mont the man saw Adder’s clothes, he burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! They’re feeding kids now?"
The nearby crowd joined him.
The announcer’s loud voice echoed across the arena.
"Interesting matchup!"
"One side, Gorn the Crusher! Three victories! One execution!"
The crowd roared.
"And on the other side..."
The announcer paused while staring down at a paper.
"...Adder?"
The entire arena laughed.
Even the announcer sounded confused.
"No class emblem. No rank. No history."
Soone shouted from above.
"He won’t survive one hit!"
The odds board above the arena instantly started changing.
12:1
15:1
18:1
Reviews
All reviews (0)