The same pillar of light descended onto the arena again. It was already Zalanir’s second time seeing this, but it was still as magnificent and destructive as the one that had come previously.

  Though this time it was a bit “weaker”? He couldn’t really tell with his eyes, but the sound when the light touched the earth was a tad lighter. But it didn’t make the sight less captivating by any means. If he were inside of that, well, no need to theorize. The result was obvious.

  The audience gasped even though somewhat knew beforehand that the attack was coming. But soon, the stifling atmosphere turned partially up when Djaxinz rushed out of the doom spot. Except for the dumb green hat with the three feathers being intact, his whole upper armor was gone. Two burning pieces of cloth on the shoulder were barely clinging on, wavering with even the softest of winds, but outside of that, he was naked, from top to bottom.

  Zalanir forced his mind to erase everything that he had seen. There was no need to remember those details on the man’s lower half. That would absolutely do him no good.

  Djaxinz, on the other hand, took his time to conjure a set of plain black costumes and … put them on in the middle of the arena, under the gaze of thousands of spectators. His face didn’t hint at any sight of disgrace. Instead, the man even hummed a soft hymn when the girls in the grandstands screamed his name.

  Zalanir just shook his head. The fact that the man was still standing after that attack meant that this fight wasn’t over yet.

  Except for every vulgar and silly things, it had been a high level fight. Now that Djaxinz had survived that heavenly pillar, what would be next? If Schallin called down several of those pillars and layered them on top of each other, Zalanir doubted that anyone could survive that. The question was if she was able to do—

  “That really was something. Thank you for going easy on me,” Djaxinz bowed with both hands forming a fist in front. Even with different clothes, the man was still exuding beauteousness.

  That action divided the audience. Half of them were booing, while the other half were clapping and cheering for both fighters. His filter was up again, so all the generic praises or curses were thrown out of the window, except for two short conversations. They were whispers somewhere behind his spot.

  “That ward bracelet isn’t something a rando could possess.”

  “Must be at least rare, if not lower-end epic.”

  “Holding back, huh?”

  “Not everyone is as cold-blooded as you.”

  “Hey, even I wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “On the bed?”

  “Well, that’s a different story.”

  So it wasn’t Djaxinz’s loss, but he just chose to forfeit the fight? Yeah, the man still looked like he was good to go. About the ward bracelet, where was it? Zalanir saw no such thing on either Djaxinz or Schallin’s wrists. Maybe it was used when he was engulfed by the pillar? How could they even see that? Must’ve been some kind of special abilities to see through that beaming pillar, or that they were at least as strong as those two down there.

  “There it is. Djaxinz’s winstreak has ended. And it is by none other than our beloved Schallin. What a return to the arena, defeating a rising star like that! But if what I heard is right, she might leave us to join the Zerkshi mercenaries. We wish for your success. Even if we will be sad, please come and visit us. Give it up for possibly one last time, Schallinnnnnn!”

  That announcer was obviously a simp for her. But who could blame him? Even Djaxinz, who seemingly had a line of women going after him, had also expressed his affection to her in front of this whole crowd.

  As for Zalanir, well, if only she wore a whole set of white tennis clothes. That tradition at Wimbledon was the best thing ever created, and it was the reason for the grass season to be the peak of a calendar year, in his undeniably 100% unbiased opinion. Every female player who competed in the grass season were angels.

  But that was to say, if he had a chance with Schallin, there was no way he could let it pass. That purple hair was money. He would be stupid to not cradle that treasure.

  With the last battle concluded, Harkon once again addressed the audience, fighters, and especially the Zerkshi mercenaries. The show that popped up out of nowhere had finally ended.

  Back at the shack, Ulken was nowhere to be found again. Where did the man go? He had left the arena right after the initial battle. The man had been doing something in secret; there was no other explanation. Going back really late, and leaving when the sun hadn’t even risen yet. If that wasn’t a clear signal, he didn’t know what was.

  The three thoughts that crossed his mind were woman, secret training, and work. But where? He was level 33 — Zalanir finally got that a couple of days ago — so a bit short of the milestone 35. Unless he found a way to get out to the settlement, work might be off the table. Perhaps something directly related to the organizer of this fighting pit? Could be. Anyway, prying on this matter would serve nothing. He could just ask the next time he saw the man.

  Pulling out the brown leather bracers, Zalanir caressed and poked the equipment. The surface was quite smooth, in contrast with his initial image of crude and rough.

  [Hippohide Bracers] — Uncommon: Originally from the back of a ferocious beast, the bracers are processed by a rough method, leaving much to be desired. Only the deflective nature remains. +10 Constitution. +2 Strength. +2 Dexterity.

  Zalanir couldn’t hold off his elation. Even if he ignored the +2 to the two attributes he didn’t really use, the ten free points to Constitution was equal to almost a third of what he currently had. No wonder the mercenary had been hard to take down. If all of them were loaded with these items, then they really belonged to a different league. That would also put Yar-Pattler, Djaxinz, and Schallin — who defeated them — into an even more ridiculous group.

  The bracers also helped with deflation, which he assumed to be quite effective against projectile attacks such as his bolts, as the mercenary had also used these bracers for this purpose during the fight. Though based on the wording, the hide of a hippo had to be even more amazing. The description gave some obvious slights for the creation of this item. The System must’ve been furious throughout the whole process for whoever wasted such material.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Zalanir put them on before going to rest. Yeah, sleeping is so much better with them.

  ***

  The fighting pit rested for the next two days with no activity for the audience. Yar-Pattler and Schallin had left with the Zerkshi mercenary yesterday, making quite a scene among the fighters. Some of them even came to see these two off, though Zalanir was sure 99% of them were there for the purple-haired babe.

  It didn’t really bother Zalanir much. On the contrary, he was glad at this small break, as he could spend the whole time in the training area honing his skills. With no fighting, he could just empty his resources to the last drop and then Meditate to get them back.

  The fight with the mercenaries once again reminded him of how crude and weak his skills were. Against that first puppet, his attacks just couldn’t do anything. Putting the level difference aside, even Lithma managed to be more useful than him. He had to be stronger and faster. Couldn’t slack in training if he wanted to catch up to the top of the field like those mercenaries.

  Though the food had been awful. The Schallin rice balls were still bad; nothing could change that. But after one month, he had somehow gotten used to just throwing it inside his mouth and chewing through it whole without needing to pay much attention. It was as if his immune system had placed this specific meal on its blacklist, so that he felt nothing.

  But now with Schallin’s departure, the cafeteria instead served what tasted like rotten chicken legs: tough, bitter, and rancid. Again, the food in this world, or in this cafeteria to be exact, was just borderline inedible.

  Lithma had been in a foul mood since yesterday, and now even on the morning of the third day, he was still a husk of himself. The attack was too soft and slow that a stranger could mistake him for being benevolent enough to avoid hurting the air. His face exuded nothing but lifeless and gloomy, and the posture and movement just lacked the energy necessary not only to spar but also to do anything that required effort.

  At first, Zalanir thought that it was about the death of the two men usually hanging out with him in that simp group of theirs, but apparently they weren’t even that close to each other. No, the reason he showed this miserable state was simply because … Shinnya had left the fighting pit. The Mohawk found that out yesterday morning, when she left with the trade envoy.

  Zalanir had learned that the Zerkshi mercenaries were just coming along acting as guards, whereas the main power in charge was a group of merchants from Vendona, the biggest and richest merchant guild in the nation. Outside of Yar-Pattler and Schallin, there were others who also left the pit, and Shinnya was one of those.

  “You are so pathetic acting like that just because a girl is gone. She didn’t even pay you any attention.” Zalanir was sick of his sparring partner looking like that.

  “You don’t understand. She’s my guiding light.” The Mohawk let go of the winged spear and dropped his butt to the floor.

  “Then what did you do before meeting her? What was your guiding star back then?” Zalanir scoffed.

  “I train to meet her. It’s my destiny.”

  “Hah, and now that destiny has gone away. How long has it lasted?”

  Zalanir waited for several minutes, but seemed like the man didn’t want to continue. He just sat there and gazed out of the training area, to god-knows-where.

  “Think about it this way,” Zalanir sighed. This scene had been all too familiar. “Her level is higher than yours, correct? Good. Which do you think was the better place to sign up for, here or the merchant guild? Merchant guild. Okay. You think she is the most gorgeous, ideal woman, am I right? Yeah, yeah, she is the best, no need to nod that hard. So what do you think will happen if you stay this way? There are plenty who are stronger than her in that famous merchant guild, I’m sure of it. So what would happen if one of them approached her? She is not yours, you know? Not if you, who are weaker and lazy and pathetic to even stay deflated like this, wasted time sitting around and doing nothing. While you are here sulking, someone else might have already made a move. Or maybe Shinnya herself has already taken the initiative. So yeah, it’s up to you to decide.”

  The man jolted up, looking like someone who had been sitting on a fire for too long without realizing that his clothes had already been burned to ashes, and now that the fire had started to tickle his skin.

  “So you are saying that I have a chance?” His eyes were beaming.

  Zalanir had no idea how the man had even arrived at that conclusion, but whatever. Seeing he was that eager, Zalanir would just play along.

  “You have. What if she is higher level than you? Just train harder. Hit heavier. Leveling up faster than her, then surely you will catch up in no time. Imagine walking up to her when you have reached B or even A-grade while she is still a weakling, how would you feel? Still doom and gloom, or overflowing with confidence?” Well, that last part was a bit too much, but what came out had already been there. The point he wanted to make was still the same.

  And the Mohawk did take it with positivity. He grabbed the spear and started to swing it around, even called out the wolf and had it slammed onto a training dummy.

  “What are you standing there like an idiot for?”

  Well, well, well. Look how the tables have turned. Zalanir smiled. This trick worked almost every time.

  But the situation with Shinnya was a bit weird. She was strong alright, but there was no way she surpassed her brother. So why was he still here? Zalanir saw him yesterday hanging out with some chicks outside of the main gate. Why didn’t Vendona or Zerkshi take Djaxinz? His performance was flawless — Zalanir was sure that no one saw his loss to Schallin as genuine, anyway. Unless the criteria weren’t just about power. Or there had to be some hidden reason.

  Zalanir caught Ulken standing with a group of fighters in a corner right outside of the cafeteria. He planned to just leave the man there, but Sound Sense turned him into an eavesdropper by accident.

  A man and a woman were expressing their disdain to the fighting pit for killing their brother and husband, respectively, in the show the other day. They cursed Harkon, the organizer, and even the mercenaries who enjoyed that heartless parody. Ulken did offer them some comfort, but that didn’t solve anything. Instead, the topic then extended to even the settlement council.

  That result was inevitable, wasn’t it? He agreed that the show had pushed the boundaries too far. Too many people had died during that night. He was lucky to still stand here, and this only added more to his desire to get to level 35 as soon as possible. He wasn’t selected by anyone, so that was his only way to get out.

  ***

  The next thirteen days passed by with regular pit fighting and training, netting Zalanir another two levels. He had gone up against the Red Nose of the Invincible Gang in an arena fight and lost in the end, but not without making the man tasted blood. He could’ve been dead there, but looked like that stupid gang wanted submission. Like hell would he give them that.

  During this time, an unexpected situation occurred that took the whole camp by surprise. Vitius, the right-hand man of Harkon, successfully evolved into C-grade and left the fighting pit. All of his management tasks were now handled by Dgun, the other henchman, who hardly showed up inside the arena. This change of leadership led to the Invincible Gang being even more daring and cruel with their bullies.

  Such a stupid change. Zalanir had to wake up even earlier than usual just so that he could turtle up inside the training area. For some reason, he had never seen the Invincible Gang there.

  Though the situation wouldn’t last long. Only several levels more, and he could probe Harkon for a way to get out. He had no coins, but wasn’t there another way? Ulken had mentioned doing personal quests and stuff.

  But life sometimes threw a wrench in random directions, and this time, a big one headed toward the fighting pit that would change Zalanir’s path forever.