Chapter 294: Act 61 – The King of the Underground (12) (Third Update)
While everyone was whispering, a loud voice suddenly interrupted the young girl’s words:
“Mortals, welcome to the Hall of Heroes!”
This voice was cold and authoritative, as if filled with an unstoppable power: “Here, you shall challenge your respective destinies, either for mere survival or to become the rulers of the land—”
“Now then, humble challengers, step forth so we may witness the moment destiny is born.”
The voice echoed thunderously above the arena, resonating like rolling thunder, causing everyone to pale. Xi and Medisa turned to look at Brendel, who was observing the entire coliseum.
He was contemplating the potential challenges ahead; within the Destiny Arena, a variety of monsters could appear, mostly related to the arena’s environment. In a regular arena like this, it was most likely to encounter powerful creatures on land or in low air.
He secretly let out a sigh of relief, glad it wasn’t the Divine Arena. That type of arena, situated in the void, was likely the most frightening of all in the Destiny Arena.
Though the challengers wouldn’t face true deities, the beings from myth were enough to make one’s scalp tingle.
“One at a time, no need to rush. I will arrange the order,” Brendel said, looking at the red-haired girl. “Xi, you and that miner will go together; since neither of you possesses strength above black iron, you can be considered a group. It will be easier for me to rescue you later.”
Brendel’s words caused Medisa to pause in surprise, unable to help but look at the red-haired girl with confusion: “Who is Xi?”
“I’ll explain later,” Brendel replied. “Old man, you can go second.”
“What?” Kuran raised an eyebrow. “Are you worried I won’t pass the challenge?”
Brendel shrugged and shifted his gaze back to Medisa, thinking: “Medisa, you’ll come up with me to try later.”
“Is that okay?”
“You are a summoner; you should be able to give it a try.” Brendel thought that if the summoned creature could accompany him in the arena, then this challenge could potentially be promising.
But before he could feel happy about it, the scene in the arena suddenly changed. The surrounding walls raised barriers, revealing rows of cages behind them.
“Lord!” Suddenly a person stood up in one of the cages, and upon seeing the others outside, she anxiously shouted, “Medisa, Xi, I’m here!”
Brendel immediately turned to look over, and his expression darkened. The person in the cage was none other than the leader of the Female Mercenary Band, Juliette—and in the two adjacent cages were Kewen and Joeka, who had obviously also seen Brendel and were showing expressions of desperation.
“Sir, can you help us?” Joeka shouted loudly.
Brendel remained silent; he was reluctant to assist. He didn’t mind rescuing someone casually, but if he chose to extend help, according to the game rules, he would have to face at least five challenges. Calculating it out, the highest-level challenge he would ultimately face might be the Mythril Sage.
This was no joking matter.
That entity was designed by the rune dwarves, a puppet creature standing at the pinnacle of gold—this was one of only two types of puppet beings close to enlightenment—the other being the diamond golems designed by Bud’s wizard; however, the former was a magic swordsman, while the latter was purely a melee unit.
From this perspective, the rune dwarves were clearly superior to Bud’s craftsman wizards, and it was one of their prides.
Brendel knew very well that it was somewhat strained to face a gold-level existence with just himself and Medisa; although adding the Wind Spirit Spider might not eliminate their chances, that hope seemed exceedingly slim.
Because of this, he could only remain silent.
Then the young man waved his hand: “Xi, it’s your turn! Don’t push it; just concede right away!”
“What about Captain Juliette…?” Xi asked softly.
“I’ll rescue her,” Brendel replied. “Go on.”
The red-haired girl nodded, steadying her Thunder Lance in one hand while dragging the already fainted miner along with the other, stepping into the arena.
A deafening cheer erupted in the arena, and Brendel listened carefully; he could finally hear the audience chanting ‘Blazing Claw! Blazing Claw!’ Although he knew this was merely a product situated between fantasy and reality, a slight, inexplicable tension crept into his heart.
“Are you scared, Medisa?” he turned his head to ask.
“Lord,” Medisa smiled, “I am undead.”
Brendel suddenly felt his face flush.
So he ceased speaking when he saw a massive door across the coliseum slowly open, and a terrifying monster dragged countless iron chains as it leapt out from behind the door. It intended to pounce directly on the red-haired girl standing in the center of the arena, but those iron chains held it tight, making loud clattering sounds before it had to stop, roaring in deep tones less than twenty meters from Xi.
“What is that?” the old swordsman asked, staring at the creature.
Brendel looked at the monster, nearly two stories high, with its three massive heads colliding together and emitting deep, thunderous roars from its throats—once it entered the arena, the smell of foulness immediately filled the coliseum—sulfuric stench.
“The Hellhound.” Medisa answered promptly.
“The demons from beneath the Sulfur River have also followed the Dark Dragon,” the Silver Elf Princess murmured, “I have dealt with them on the battlefield before; these creatures are quite troublesome—”
“What battlefield?” Kuran looked at the silver-haired young girl, puzzled, wondering what kind of battlefield she would find herself battling such horrible creatures.
But Medisa turned back, smiling slightly at this veteran who had participated in the War of November: “The War of the Saints.”
The War of the Saints? Kuran was instantly dumbfounded; he instinctively thought this young girl was joking with him. He now felt that Medisa was simply a sly little girl.
“Fortunately, it’s not the Hellhound Lord; that thing possesses silver-level power. If you’re careful, it should be alright,” Brendel turned back to Kuran and said, “Watch out for its breath.”
“You brat, are you trying to remind me?” the old man was taken aback, quickly registering the implication.
“I just don’t want to rescue another person,” Brendel replied.
“Hmph, you haven’t seen my real strength yet, kid.” The old man touched the hilt of his sword: “You better worry more about yourself.”
As Kuran said this, he felt a surge of frustration within. In fact, this aging sword master had indeed been going through a bout of bad luck; when he intended to strike first, he was interrupted by a landslide, then completely unexpectedly ambushed by Medisa and nearly died in a mining accident—considering himself as an experienced gold-level expert, this was overly embarrassing.
Although he was injured now, dealing with a creature of silver level should pose no problem. Not to mention that in a same-tier confrontation, magical beasts, monsters, or lower-tier demons were generally inferior to intelligent beings, as beyond sheer power, they lacked many of the techniques.
The elder had already made up his mind to vent his frustrations on what he deemed cannon fodder.
He even turned back to Brendel and said, “Do you need me to rescue someone for you, kid?”
“Forget it,” Brendel hurriedly shook his head, thinking this guy really didn’t know when to give up. The challenge level in the Destiny Arena escalated with each round; this time it was a Hellhound, next might directly escalate to a Hill Giant.
Kuran let out a slight snort, seemingly displeased with Brendel’s contempt. “What’s your name, kid?” he suddenly asked.
Brendel was staring at the arena and without thinking, he blurted out, “Sue… Brendel.” He suddenly realized, staring at the man, “What’s the matter, old man? Want to remember my name to settle accounts with me in the future?”
Unexpectedly, this time the old man didn’t puff up and glare; instead, he repeated “Brendel, Brendel…” twice with a mysterious smile, taking on an inscrutable demeanor and falling silent.
Kuran’s reaction surprised Brendel greatly, and he felt a bit wary, placing a hand on his sword, in case this guy suddenly caused a ruckus—there was nothing amusing about making trouble in the Destiny Arena.
Just as Brendel tensed up, the situation in the arena had already changed. Xi conceded without even waiting for the Hellhound to break free from its chains; with a flash of white light, she was sent to the nearby cage.
“Xi!” Juliette looked in astonishment at her companion who had just been confined—seeing the same red hair reminded her of her own sister, and she couldn’t help but ask worriedly: “Why didn’t you resist?”
“I’m sorry, I was injured,” the red-haired girl replied, a tinge of sorrow in her expression.
Juliette frowned: “But you don’t know the rules here; with an extra person, it becomes much harder to rescue the others.” She sighed deeply, saying somewhat gloomily, “But it’s not much; whether that young noble will save us is still a question. Nobles aren’t likely to risk themselves…”
Thinking of this, she sat down dejectedly in the corner of the cage; compared to herself, she was more worried about her mercenary band. If anything happened to her here, Crenshia and Vurn would certainly not be too polite.
But while she worried, Xi remained silent. She gripped the iron bars, looking in Brendel’s direction, and for some reason, she knew Brendel would surely rescue them.
Not just her; Juliette felt the same.
At that moment, Brendel was watching the old man beside him stepping boldly into the arena with a solemn expression. Kuran grasped his sword with one hand, looking unflinchingly at the Hellhound; just as he was about to leave, he suddenly turned back to Brendel and said:
“Hmph, arrogant brat from the Tobus family, let me show you what true swordsmanship looks like. Lest you end up with your tail in the air—”
Upon hearing these words, Brendel froze momentarily.
Because Tobus was his grandfather’s name. (To be continued. To find out what happens next, please log in for more chapters; support the author, support legitimate reading!)
