And so, this utterly chaotic melee, a spectacle of unbridled fighting, drew to a close with a decisive triumph for the East District.By the time the results were clear, it was already approaching noon.Everyone was granted a precious two-hour intermission, yet in this brief respite, a far greater storm of gladiatorial combat, a more terrifying abyss of death, crept closer with each passing second.
“Welcome back; our revelry now continues.”
At precisely two o’clock in the afternoon, accompanied by Salakriffin’s understated declaration, the King of Combat Festival commenced on schedule!
“This year’s King of Combat Festival is special,” he announced.
“I shall grant all of you a singular opportunity—a chance to challenge anyone you desire, regardless of their status or position… even the four lofty wardens, even I, Salakriffin, standing here before you!”
Amidst Salakriffin’s fervent pronouncement, the spectators in the fourth ring erupted once more, their excitement escalating into frenzy.
‘What did they hear?’
A chance to challenge? Anyone at all? Even the wardens? Even Salakriffin, the master of the arena?
What an utterly insane and exhilarating set of combat rules! How utterly impatient it made them!…
The gates to the four districts had long since opened, yet after a considerable wait, not a single challenger emerged to issue a named challenge, a silence that began to fray the audience’s patience.
‘Were those damned death row inmates below nothing more than craven cowards, clinging to their miserable lives?’
Meanwhile, on the main platform, Salakriffin appeared utterly unperturbed, lounging languidly in his golden-carved throne, betraying not a hint of urgency.
****
‘So, it’s finally time?’
In the East District waiting hall, You’er lifted his long-closed eyelids, the emptiness within them failing to conceal the sword-like sharpness of his gaze, which fixed westward, his face alight with burning killing intent.
“Boss, I wanted to—”
Veron, his body swathed in bandages, approached, intending to speak to You’er, but You’er cut him off with a raised hand.
“I know what you want to say, but you are no match for him, and I won’t send you to your death in vain.”
Patting Veron’s shoulder, You’er told him in a calm tone, “Leave it to me; this is my promise.”
“Then, everything is in your hands, Boss; your brothers eagerly await your triumphant return!” Veron declared with weighty conviction.
“May Boss return victorious!”
Behind him, Keane and the others bowed their heads in farewell.
“Well then, I’m off.”
Smiling as he bid farewell to his friends, You’er walked step by step towards the grand gate.
Opposite him, another figure emerged from the West District’s main entrance: Heggel Gale.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd!
“The Twin Prodigies! It’s the East and West Twin Prodigies!”
“My heavens, could these two be about to—”
“…”
The sight of You’er and Heggel Gale emerging to face each other instantly ignited a massive uproar in the fourth ring; with both Twin Prodigies appearing simultaneously, did this signify that their long-awaited, spectacular battle was finally about to commence?
In the very next moment, the two men, declaring in unison, answered both their questions and their eager anticipation.
“I, Gugu You’er Guinevere, hereby challenge the West District’s No.1, Heggel Gale!”
“I, Heggel Gale, hereby challenge the East District’s No.1, Gugu You’er Guinevere!”
A thunderous roar!
The two declarations of war, intertwined into a single resounding challenge, transformed the earlier uproar into an overwhelming surge.
At this moment, even more astonishing events continued to unfold before the spectators.
Thud-thud, thud-thud.
Amidst the deep, muffled thuds, a man with a giant-like physique emerged from the East District gate, his imposing ferocity and two-and-a-half-meter-tall frame eliciting gasps of astonishment from countless individuals in the fourth ring.
“I, Quia Terra, hereby challenge the East District’s No.1, Gugu You’er Guinevere!”
“I, Rigalantie Hogan, hereby challenge the West District’s No.1, Heggel Gale!”
The very next second after Quia’s challenge was issued, another man with bronze skin emerged from the West District’s main entrance, his arrival likewise accompanied by a resounding declaration.
Quia, the East District’s former No.1 and one of the individuals You’er most desired to eliminate, required little further introduction.
The bronze-skinned man, Rigalantie, whose short stature might even lead one to mistake him for a dwarf, was the West District’s former No.1 and currently Heggel Gale’s sole rival within the West District, albeit with the support of West District Warden Moses.
While silence had reigned before, now four individuals had appeared at once, and four of such astonishing identities! This bizarre turn of events caused the spectators in the fourth ring to fall silent, all eyes turning to Salakriffin on the main platform, awaiting his decision.
Clap-clap, clap-clap.
This somewhat solitary applause emanated from Salakriffin, who cast a meaningful glance at Moses and Miekin on either side before slowly rising from his grand chair, moving to the edge of the platform, his gaze settling upon You’er, Heggel Gale, Quia, and Rigalantie, who now occupied the four corners of the arena.
He spread his arms, accepting the audience’s rapt attention, and only after a long moment did he finally open his mouth to speak.
“What follows,” he announced, “is the grand ritual I have meticulously prepared for an entire year specifically for today’s King of Combat Festival. I hope you all enjoy it.”
These seemingly light words caused the expressions of all six individuals, both above and below, to drastically change.
‘What did he just say? Prepared for an entire year?!’
‘This meant that his initial agreement with You’er and Heggel Gale was never about admiration or care for them!’
‘He knew of You’er’s untamed spirit, yet he indulged it so!’
‘He was aware of the two wardens’ clandestine maneuvers, yet he never exposed them!’
‘Everything was for today’s “performance”!’
Salakriffin was, in fact, a complete and utter madman, willing to calculate every single factor to achieve his desired outcome, including You’er, Heggel Gale, Miekin, Moses… and even the entire Death Arena itself!
‘This was an utterly terrifying individual!’
“Lord Salakriffin, we merely wished to maintain our positions; we harbored no rebellious intentions whatsoever!”
Miekin and Moses, their schemes exposed, both bowed their heads in supplication, conveying their loyalty to him with voices trembling in trepidation.
“I believe you,” Salakriffin said.
Salakriffin displayed a benevolent expression, yet even with such a look, he suddenly lashed out, striking Miekin and Moses down into the gladiatorial arena in an instant, before either could react.
“I believe you will deliver an even more spectacular performance for me.”
Salakriffin, his lips stretched into a smile, appeared utterly terrifying.
“Therefore, I declare the Six-Way Deathmatch to begin now! Only three of you, at most, shall survive, you know.”