Chapter 144: Let Me Stab You Once

This was a carnival resembling a grand festival! That was the first impression left upon Xia Ya after witnessing the scene before him!

The outer perimeter wall of this ancient arena was built with angular architecture, while stepping inside revealed a massive oval-shaped plaza surrounded by tiered spectator stands ranging from several meters to over ten meters in height. At the center, the ground had been excavated into a circular pit approximately one hundred meters in diameter and about four to five meters deep. The edges were built up with giant circular stones, reaching towering heights. The spectators in the surrounding stands sat safely above these elevated edges.

The highest section was located directly to the north. The stands on that side towered fifteen meters high, comparable to the height of a city wall. They featured a row of protruding balcony-like designs, supported by square stone pillars and arches. The central balcony was the highest, semi-circular in shape, with even its railings painted in gold. Flanking balconies were spaced about one meter apart, spreading outward in a wild-goose wing formation.

The rest of the stands were of standard tiered designs. When Xia Ya walked into the arena, this colossal colosseum, capable of holding over twenty thousand people, was already nearly half full.

According to Afrecat's explanation, this was merely the preliminary round; by the time the main tournament arrived, the arena would be packed to capacity almost every day. The seats closest to the front were the most expensive because they allowed one to hear the roars and shouts of the combatants in the arena from the closest possible distance, observing every detail of the bloody spectacle up close—sometimes even feeling the spray of fresh blood!

These seats had always been the exclusive privilege of nobles and wealthy merchants willing to spend a fortune.

As for the distant, box-like balconies higher up, they belonged to the true powerhouses of the empire. The highest one in the very center belonged to the imperial family. Every year during the main tournament finals, His Majesty the Emperor himself would attend to observe. The flanking balconies belonged to the Grand Chancellor, generals, the imperial chief justice, and other dignitaries.

Stepping through a grand gate into the stands, Xia Ya walked with Afrecat toward the eastern section near the north. The arena also employed dedicated attendants. These people wore short-sleeved black jackets. Despite the freezing cold weather, they were drenched in sweat, running back and forth barefoot. Some carried large trays filled with dropped slips of paper and various currencies, both gold and silver.

"These are the people in charge of placing bets," Afrecat laughed. "An athletic tournament like this is full of commercial opportunities. Many years ago, the betting rights for the tournament were sold by His Majesty to several ancient merchant guilds with deep roots in the empire. The auction for these betting rights takes place once every decade, granting them to the three highest-bidding merchant guilds to share."

Pointing at the running attendants, he lowered his voice. "Before entering, the notice boards outside list the names and origins of the fighting warriors. Before each match begins, spectators can place bets with the attendants, paying in cash and receiving a slip detailing the wager. After the match, those slips can be redeemed for winnings."

Afrecat chuckled, then pulled aside an attendant running past, slipped a silver coin from his pocket into the man's hand, and shouted and gestured loudly. The attendant promptly and respectfully led the two men to the front rows beneath the northeast stands, finding empty seats in the third row for them to sit.

Shortly after, Xia Ya experienced the intense, thrilling, and... cruel nature of the Byzantine Empire's time-honored tournament!

Down in the massive arena, the central circular pit was divided into six independent small combat arenas by stone walls equipped with pulleys that allowed them to be pushed around. This was the rule for the preliminary rounds, whereas once the main tournament began, each match could occupy the entire venue.

Different preliminary matches were taking place across the six independent combat rings. Glancing over them roughly, Xia Ya quickly grasped the essence of it.

In three of the partitioned combat rings, warriors were fighting in pairs, their skill levels appearing rather mediocre—clearly the weaker participants of the preliminaries. However, in another ring, the contest was surprisingly not between warriors, but between a human and a beast!

A man clad in leather hero armor, holding a shield in one hand and a long sword in the other, was crouching and facing off against a blood-thirsty wild wolf! The creature was an adult wolf, strong and robust. Its build was comparable to the one Xia Ya had killed on the Wildfire Plain, though its fur was thicker and more vibrant, indicating superior physical condition!

The warrior was already wounded, with deep claw marks dripping blood across his exposed arms and thighs. The wolf also had blood on one of its front paws, and as it lunged, its movements were slightly uncoordinated, clearly having been injured by the warrior as well.

As Xia Ya watched, the wolf lunged, knocking the warrior flat onto his back on the ground. However, the warrior alertly used his shield to protect his face. Though knocked down, the wolf's head slammed against the shield, and its claws tore and scratched in vain, unable to pierce the defense. Seizing the opportunity, the warrior thrust his long sword repeatedly into the wolf's belly from underneath!

With the sickening sound of squelching flesh, the spectators beside the stands cheered in unison. The wild wolf whimpered and wailed before finally being forcefully overturned by the warrior. Its belly was already ripped open, intestines spilling out, and after a few struggles, it collapsed onto the ground. The warrior strode over, drove his sword into the wolf's skull, and raised his shield in a victorious roar, winning enthusiastic applause from the nearby spectators.

Seeing this, Xia Ya withdrew his gaze and sneered.

Afrecat had also noticed the battle. Seeing Xia Ya's unimpressed expression, he explained, "During the drawing process, to increase the entertainment value, matches between humans and wild beasts were added many years ago. If a draw lands on this, it's the crowd's favorite spectacle... Well, the beasts drawn in the preliminaries are generally not too strong; ordinary jackals, wolves, tigers, and leopards are more common, while magical beasts are rare. These animals are raised by the merchant guilds specifically for use during the matches."

"It's rigged," Xia Ya said insightfully, sneering. "Look at that slain wild wolf. Hmph... How could a blood-thirsty wild wolf be so weak? These citizens of Yanjing are ignorant; they've never seen the true ferocity of a wild wolf. A real wild wolf would have torn that warrior apart in just a couple of bites."

Afrecat nodded, pondering, "My lord, you are quite right. Cheating frequently occurs in these matches. To secure betting profits, the merchant guilds inevitably manipulate the matches somewhat. Humans are hard to control, but beasts are much easier. In human-versus-beast battles, if they want the human to win, they dose the magical beast with anesthetics before the match to dull its reflexes and weaken its strength—something ordinary spectators wouldn't notice. If they want the beast to win, they give it stimulants to drive it into a temporary frenzy, boosting its combat power. As for the backlash from drug side effects afterward, no one sees it anyway once the match is over."

Xia Ya shook his head. "I'm not talking about that. Hmph... I'm just telling you, even without drug manipulation, these tournament-raised magical beasts are far inferior to those in the true wilderness."

The roughneck sighed. "Things raised in cages versus the wild instincts forged in the bloodshed of the wilderness—which is stronger goes without saying! Even a tiger, kept in a cage for years, eventually degenerates into a house cat."

Afrecat nodded repeatedly, agreeing deeply, and cast a look of genuine approval toward Xia Ya.

Just as they finished their commentary, the spectators all around them suddenly leaped to their feet, erupting into a roaring wave of cheers and applause. Everyone's face was filled with the excitement and fervor of idolizing heroes. Xia Ya and Afrecat paused and looked down... It turned out that right below the northeast stand where they sat, facing a partitioned combat ring that had previously been empty, the contestants for the next match had just walked out.

Evidently, among the fighters in this match was someone renowned or a prominent veteran with a brilliant track record, which had triggered such roaring cheers from the audience.

Afrecat and Xia Ya looked down, their eyes widening simultaneously.

"Damn it! It's actually this bastard?!"

In the combat ring below, two warriors had walked in. One of them, clad in silver refined-steel light armor and possessing handsome features, carried a silver cross sword. Gleaming under the sunlight, that suit of silver armor indeed possessed an eye-catching presence.

The sight of this fellow immediately provoked expressions of anger from Xia Ya and Afrecat. Afrecat, in particular, looked as though he had met an irreconcilable enemy!

This person was actually Philip, the leader of the Silver Python Mercenary Corps who had ambushed the two of them on the road to Yanjing!

"How could it be this guy?" Xia Ya snorted, narrowing his eyes. "Isn't he a high-ranking warrior? Isn't that so-called Silver Python Mercenary Corps quite famous? Why is he fighting in the preliminaries?"

Afrecat gritted his teeth fiercely. "Given the strength of the Silver Python Mercenary Corps, he shouldn't need to fight in the preliminaries. But... he didn't enter the past three tournaments, sending his younger brother instead. Based on past records, although his mercenary corps is well-known, in the individual competition, he has to start from the very beginning... Hmph, or perhaps he did it on purpose. After all, his brother was defeated by me in the last tournament, which hurt their reputation. This time, he's staging a comeback, planning to rack up a few consecutive wins against weak opponents in the preliminaries to rebuild his fame."

Philip down in the arena naturally had not noticed Xia Ya and Afrecat hiding among the dense crowd in the stands.

His opponent was a tough-looking warrior in his thirties, holding an iron shield in one hand and a long saber in the other, clad in a ox-hide breastplate. Regardless of actual strength, just looking at this attire and equipment, everyone already had a clear idea of who was stronger and who was weaker.

That warrior also seemed very nervous, but he had no room to retreat now; he simply stared fixedly at Philip.

Philip wore an arrogant expression. He first raised his long sword high to salute the spectators in the stands, earning a full round of cheers, before turning around to cast a cold smile at his opponent. With affected elegance, he bowed in an ancient warrior's salute, swept his long sword across in a light arc, and truly displayed a certain aristocratic flair in his movements.

Shortly after, two shirtless strongmen beside the combat ring worked together to strike a giant round bronze gong with a heavy mallet. With a resounding *clang*, the match was declared open! The two men quickly carried the giant gong away through a side door.

Philip stood his ground, his expression calm and relaxed. He had calculated that it was impossible to encounter opponents in the preliminaries who could genuinely pose a threat to him—though hidden masters weren't entirely absent in the preliminaries, he had already scattered large sums of gold to bribe the merchant guild officials in charge of scheduling. He knew the draw results beforehand, ensuring a smooth path at least until the main tournament. Afrecat guessed correctly; he was indeed exploiting the weak preliminary opponents to secure several consecutive wins and elevate his own prestige.

Prior to this match, he had already achieved four consecutive wins, one of which involved slaying a wind-attribute spined beast right on the spot! That was a mid-tier magical beast! That match had earned him immense renown, though outsiders didn't know that the spined beast he fought had been force-fed a large barrel of strong liquor laced with anesthetics before the match!

Glancing at his opponent, he noted that the man's equipment was far inferior to his own. The saber and shield in the man's hands were ordinary goods, and the leather armor was of the type used only by remote mercenary groups. Even if he merely parried without counterattacking, relying on his superior silver armor, the opponent could not easily harm him!

The opposing warrior crouched, holding his saber and shield, circling half a step around Philip to cautiously look for an opening. Philip stood proudly, holding his sword with a smug smile, watching his opponent coldly.

Finally, finding no openings, the opponent hardened his heart, let out a roar, and a faint gray glow erupted around his body—evidently, his battle qi had also reached the ranks of a mid-tier warrior. Taking a step forward, he leaped into the air, protecting his vital points with his shield, and brought his blade down from above! A dazzling display of battle qi blazed across the edge of the blade!

*Hum*!!!

Philip took a step back, parrying horizontally with his sword. With a crisp *crack*, the opponent landed, but the edge of his saber already had a notch in it! Philip laughed heartily, deliberately showing off, and shouted loudly, "You are no match for me! Surrender your blade and give up!"

With that, brilliant silver light erupted across his entire body, instantly enveloping him. Against the backdrop of his silver armor and silver sword, he radiated a sacred and awe-inspiring aura! Spectators in the stands who knew their stuff immediately began shouting and cheering.

High-tier battle qi! High-tier battle qi!!!!

"Oh?" Xia Ya couldn't help feeling a bit skeptical.

When this Philip ambushed him that day, his battle qi didn't seem this powerful, did it?

Afrecat took one look and sneered, "He's faking it!"

"Faking it? Battle qi can be faked too?" Xia Ya's eyes widened.

"His armor must be enchanted with some kind of magic. It's an illusion, using light reflection to magnify the glow of his battle qi. It looks terrifying, but actually... Heh heh, his brother used the same trick last year, intimidating opponents with aura before the fight even started to gain the initiative. But his brother still got knocked flat by me, hmph! Neither of these brothers is any good."

Sure enough, upon seeing Philip's gorgeous battle qi glow, the opposing warrior's expression turned even uglier. Philip let out a shout, leaping forward like a giant bird unfolding its wings. His movements were indeed graceful and agile. While still in the air, he slashed down with his sword, splitting a blade of light that cut downward. The opponent raised his shield to block, and with a sharp *crack*, the ordinary iron-skinned shield was instantly cleaved in two!

Philip landed right in front of his opponent and thrust forward with his sword. The opponent desperately parried horizontally, and the two traded four or five blows in one breath. The opponent's momentum rapidly weakened; outmatched in strength to begin with and suppressed by his opponent's aura, his shield had been split open, causing his attacks to lose momentum. Though he parried desperately with his saber, after several rapid *clangs*, he was forced back, stumbling clumsily. With a cry of pain, he took a sword strike to the shoulder!

Deliberately showing off, Philip twisted his sword wrist and snapped the shoulder strap of the opponent's breastplate with a sharp *snap*. With a *whoosh*, the opponent's breastplate was sent flying entirely!

Stepping forward, Philip kicked the man square in the chest. The warrior vomited blood, flew backward, landed on the ground, and struggled to get up. Just as he tried to rise, Philip rushed forward, raised his long sword, and slashed down!

*Clang, clang, clang*!!!

The gorgeous silver light practically eclipsed the opponent's gray battle qi. Under several consecutive strikes, the warrior was forced to his knees, unable to stand. After desperately blocking a few more times with his sword, with a sharp *snap*, his hand felt light—the blade had broken short!

Philip sneered, laying the edge of his sword across his opponent's neck before delivering another kick that sent the man flat onto his back. Placing a foot on the opponent's chest, he raised his long sword and gestured repeatedly toward the spectators in the stands.

At this moment, the spectators in the stands erupted in a frenzy!

Being able to witness a high-tier warrior with silver battle qi during the preliminaries was an extremely rare and precious spectacle! Masters of that caliber were usually supposed to enter the main tournament directly!

The spectators now roared enthusiastically. Many waved handkerchiefs retrieved from beneath their seats, while others with distorted expressions screamed at the top of their lungs, "Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!!"

Those who had placed bets on the opponent and lost money tore up their betting slips in anger and joined in shouting "Kill!"

The entire arena echoed with cries of "Kill!"

This was originally a blood-soaked and cruel tradition: in the arena, life and death were decided by fate, and killing was not a crime! While not every match resulted in death, according to ancient custom, if the surrounding spectators unanimously waved handkerchiefs and chanted for blood, the victorious warrior could execute his opponent at the audience's request! Such actions carried no legal penalties under imperial law.

Of course... choosing mercy and sparing a life was also common practice.

However, Philip naturally had no intention of showing mercy. Entering the preliminaries under the guise of a high-tier warrior was meant precisely to build momentum; the more people he killed, the greater the sensation he would cause!

Amidst the surrounding cries for blood, Philip wore a grim smile, looked down at the opponent beneath his foot, and the warrior—fully realizing his doom and filled with terror—shouted, "I surrender! Spar—"

*Thud*!

Before the warrior could finish his plea for mercy, Philip drove his sword straight through his throat. Twisting the blade, the sharp edge sliced clean through his neck. Philip bent down, grabbed the man's hair, and yanked hard!

*Squish*!!!

Blood sprayed wildly from the severed neck cavity like a falling rain, splattering his gleaming silver armor with red dots!

Holding his sword in one hand and hoisting the severed head high above his head in the other, blood dripping all around him, Philip laughed wildly toward the spectators in the stands.

Instantly, the passion of the spectators was ignited! People came here to seek this exact kind of bloody sensory thrill! Witnessing a live execution and the decapitation of an opponent fueled their fanaticism even further. Countless people stood up, yelling and cheering crazily for Philip. Even from other stands, people noticed the scene and jumped up to roar and applaud.

For a moment, nearly every spectator stand in the entire arena was captivated by Philip's actions, and the events in the other combat rings were completely ignored.

Amidst the roaring applause, Philip felt immensely satisfied, convinced that lowering his status to enter the preliminaries was a brilliant decision, and that the thousands of gold coins spent greasing palms were well worth it!

The surrounding applause and cheers lasted for about a minute before two strongmen emerged from a side door carrying the bronze gong, preparing to strike the ending signal... At that moment, Philip suddenly made a move that drove the entire crowd into an even greater frenzy!

He leaped forward and cleaved the gong hammer in two with a single sword strike!

The two strongmen froze on the spot!

Philip strode to the edge of the combat ring, spread his arms wide, and raised his silver cross sword high—only this time, he inverted the hilt, pointing the blade downward and the hilt upward, gesturing toward the surrounding ring of stands!

This single gesture drove the entire crowd wild, and the roaring cheers nearly blew the roof off the arena structure!

"A challenge! This is a challenge!!"

Afrecat and Xia Ya sat among the crowd. Afrecat's eyes flashed with light as he clenched his fists. "This is an ancient tournament custom! This fellow is pulling out all the stops to build his fame!"

With the surrounding clamor deafening, Xia Ya frowned and shouted, "What ancient custom? What does this challenge mean?"

Afrecat yelled at the top of his lungs into Xia Ya's ear. "It means the victor has the right to demand that the match not end, and the combat continues! As long as the gong doesn't sound! According to ancient custom, to flaunt his martial prowess, the winning warrior can issue a challenge to the entire audience! Anyone in the audience who refuses to accept this victor can immediately step down and challenge him! No matter who lives or dies, no crimes are questioned!! Hmph! He's quite clever; he knows that the people watching the preliminaries are ordinary spectators, whereas by the finals, many martial masters will be watching from the stands... So he's actually pulling this stunt in the preliminaries, the cunning bastard!"

Hearing this, Xia Ya suddenly burst into wild laughter.

"Hahaha! Free challenge? Good! Very good!! I was just wondering how to settle scores with this fellow! Since he's seeking his own death, he can't blame your grandfather here!"

With that, the roughneck suddenly patted Afrecat and shouted, "Keep your eyes wide open and watch closely as I avenge your fallen brothers!"

Xia Ya suddenly leaped up from the stands, and after executing a powerful mid-air dive, he slammed heavily onto the battle ring below with a resounding *boom*, smashing a crater into the ground right where he landed!

Brushing the dust from his face, Xia Ya looked up at Philip, a savage grin spreading across his face. "Hey, pretty boy, your granddaddy is here!!"

Philip had calculated that no martial masters would be watching the preliminaries from the stands, meaning his eccentric stunts carried no real danger. Having just incited cheers from the entire crowd, he was feeling quite proud of himself when this god of slaughter suddenly descended from the sky?!

Recognizing the newcomer, Philip felt a chill run straight through his heart! How could he possibly forget Xia Ya? During the ambush on the road that day, this madman had rudely intervened to protect Afrecat, and during their clash, his martial arts skills were ridiculously overpowering, forcing Philip back step by step! If not for the magical assistance of the spellcaster he had hired, he probably would have been decapitated by the fellow right then and there! Even so, the memory of Xia Ya brutally executing that mage head-on, carrying the spellcaster's bloody head with a towering murderous aura... every time he recalled it afterward, it turned into recurring nightmares!

And now, right at the peak of his triumph, this nightmarish figure had materialized out of thin air?!

The shock nearly caused Philip to drop his sword. Subconsciously taking two steps back, his eyes widened as he stared fixedly at Xia Ya.

"Huh? Why are you staring at me like that?" Xia Ya narrowed his eyes, slowly drawing his fire-fork, and a wicked smile crept across his face. "Don't tell me you don't recognize your granddaddy? Come on, pretty boy, step right up and let your grandfather Xia Ya poke you a few times!"

The surrounding cheers and roars rolled in like a tsunami, but at that moment, Philip felt not a shred of triumph. If anything, he wished he could slap himself twice!

Staring dead-eyed at Xia Ya, Philip's face turned pale and ashen by turns before he finally forced a sentence through gritted teeth: "You! We have no grievance nor enmity between us, why must you press me so hard..."

Xia Ya waved a hand, stepping forward relentlessly. He thrust the fire-fork into the empty air repeatedly, grinning viciously, "Grievance or not, let granddaddy poke you a few times first. Come on, don't run away!"