Chapter 350 Chapter349-Death Arena
Within the Death Arena, the host stood on an elevated platform, delivering a fiery and impassioned speech.
His voice seemed enchanted, effortlessly swaying the emotions of the audience below.
As his words came to an end, fervor engulfed the entire arena.
The audience was in a state of frenzy.
Some even stripped off their shirts, revealing chiseled muscles.
The arena was a testament to the raw, brutal aesthetics of violence; everything here resonated with primal wildness.
In the realm of sports, one-on-one combat, as a unique athletic event, is the most heart-stirring of battles.
The host tapped his microphone as a massive cage emerged from the center of the arena. With a surge of excitement, he bellowed:
"Let's welcome the Orc Tribe's warrior, Moka, to face off against our novice challenger, [Galewind]!"
"Will the Orc Tribe's champion prevail, or will our newbie emerge victorious? Let's wait and watch!"
With the host's whistle, the orc warrior Moka, brandishing a huge axe, charged forth.
Galewind dodged with a nimble sidestep and retaliated with a swift strike of his Divine Blade.
A million points of damage!
A thirty-something percent critical hit chance!
How could he possibly lose with stats like these?
The Divine Blade pierced Moka without resistance.
The orc warrior froze, his pupils gradually fading.
He looked at the calm John and cried out:
"Oh, no!"
His voice was filled with anguish. John remained expressionless.
Beside him, the towering host wiped his brow with a handkerchief and donned a theatrical expression:
"Our contender, Galewind, is shockingly powerful! With just one blow, he defeated the Orc Tribe's champion. Such a battle is truly..."
"Enough with the chatter. I'm on a tight schedule. Keep blabbering, and I'll cut you down." John sheathed his Divine Blade, interrupting him.
Taken aback by John's assertiveness, the host quickly declared, "Alright then, Round two! Galewind vs. the Werewolf Warrior!"
...
From the second to the ninth round, John's victories came effortlessly. A damage output of one million was insurmountable for these non-mythical native beings.
The atmosphere in the arena quickly became electric, with the host screaming at the top of his lungs:
"Can this player, Galewind, truly challenge the champion of the Death Arena?"
"Will this battle herald the rise of a new king or yet another glorious jewel in the crown of the reigning monarch?"
John began to take things more seriously.
As part of the Twelve Trials of the Hero hidden trail, this round, based on the Seven Deadly Sins, represented Wrath.
Even he had felt a slight mental disturbance earlier.
In this environment, the gladiatorial arena birthed the Apostle of Wrath – an entity of immense offensive power.
Within the arena, a massive cage emerged, revealing a creature covered in scars, bearing a fierce expression, and with two enormous, protruding beast-like fangs.
As John gazed at the creature, the beast stared back, a mocking glint in its eyes.
The host shouted to the side, "Let's honorably welcome the Emperor of Wrath, the mightiest warrior, the Abyssal Apostle of Wrath!"
Upon finishing, the host immediately jumped from his platform, approached another cage, entered it, and locked himself in with multiple locks.
A group of gnomes assisted the Apostle of Wrath by unlocking the cage's door and releasing the chains that bound him.
The Apostle of Wrath looked down at the gnomes, who only reached halfway up his body.
Three seconds!
In merely three seconds, he tore those gnomes apart, a cascade of blood raining down upon the arena floor.
The surrounding audience roared in unison:
"Apostle!"
"Apostle!"
"You are the mightiest! Destroy this newbie!"
John's eyes slightly narrowed as he observed the Apostle of Wrath's stats: high attack, medium defense, medium agility, and low intelligence.
It was, unmistakably, a killing machine.
The Apostle of Wrath charged towards John.
In response, John hastily swung his Divine Blade.
While John was struck by a punch from the Apostle of Wrath, the Apostle himself received a blow from John's sword, leaving a ghastly wound on his shoulder from which blood flowed freely.
The Apostle of Wrath displayed no emotion, merely continuing his furious assault on John.
After taking a punch from the Apostle, John was startled to hear a system alert:
[Player Galewind, HP decreased by 10%!]
[Facing Apostle of Wrath, healing and buff items cannot be used!]
John glanced at his inventory, noticing all the items had turned gray.
Frowning, John hadn't anticipated that he wouldn't be able to use items while battling the Apostle of Wrath.
His entire inventory seemed locked.
John's gaze hardened as he studied the Apostle of Wrath.
This Apostle was different from the previous two emissaries of the Seven Deadly Sins.
A combat machine bred for slaughter, knowing only killing.
This was its weakness, but in the realm of combat, it was also its strength.
Being of a hidden class, John needed to avoid getting killed by entities below the gods, or he'd lose a significant amount of attributes.
He pondered on how he could survive this battle with the Apostle of Wrath.
Scanning the surroundings, the arena appeared to be an iron-clad enclosure with no terrain to exploit for strategy.
But then...
John's eyes suddenly darted to the spectators in the stands, a daring idea flashing in his eyes.
With a taunting glare at the Apostle of Wrath, John unleashed a ranged slash before dashing towards the audience stands.
Enraged by this attack, the Apostle of Wrath charged straight at him.
Caught off-guard, John took a direct hit without retaliating, continuing his sprint towards the spectators.
The audience, just moments ago cheering fervently, began to panic and shout as they saw John rushing toward them:
"Damn it, don't come this way!"
"Referee, referee, stop the match!"
...
The lanky referee witnessing the scene shouted, "Player Galewind, your battlefield is the arena, not the spectator stands!"
In response, John retorted, "From the outset, this battle was without rules. I'll decide which rules to use. If you have the guts, unlock my inventory, and I'll wear you all down, you worthless lot!"
The Apostle of Wrath, with limited intelligence, had only a thirst for slaughter.
Only upon fulfilling this bloodlust would he find peace.
Any assault on him merely fueled his Wrath, diminishing his already limited rationale.
To quell his burning fury, every living being before him had to be annihilated.
As the Apostle of Wrath barged into the stands, the spectators were catapulted into the air, as if struck by a rampaging bull.
Some were horrifically torn apart by the Apostle himself.
These unfortunate souls bore the brunt of the Apostle's onslaught.
While the Apostle wreaked havoc on the audience, John, ghost-like in his stealth, plunged his Divine Blade into the Apostle of Wrath.
Enraged by John's attack, the Apostle tried to rush towards him to rip him apart but was obstructed by the scattering spectators.
John's eyes narrowed slightly, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, "Initially, I thought the audience couldn't be attacked. That their shouting and screaming were merely for ambiance. I hadn't realized they could serve this purpose."
Existence has its reasons!
If the system created the audience, then why make them immune to a player's attack? Was it merely for ambiance?
Clearly not!
Moreover, from the start, when Apostle of Wrath killed the gnome and the host hiding inside the cage, it was evident that he could harm these neutral entities.
As John took advantage of the Apostle's onslaught amidst the chaotic crowd, he would strike and then immediately distance himself from the Apostle.
John's blade struck like thunder, swift as lightning!
Each strike against the robust body of the Apostle added fresh wounds to his scarred muscular frame.
These wounds were ensnared by a force of mind power, making the Apostle's regenerative abilities futile.
The Apostle of Wrath didn't even think to dodge.
All he knew was to attack relentlessly.
His continuous assaults were always impeded by the unlucky bystanders around him.
The eyes of the Apostle of Wrath began to dull.
Perhaps it was his final surge of energy, or maybe he still had a trick up his sleeve.
His entire body turned a fiery red, brimming with the will to fight.
He bellowed, "Die!"
As John's Divine Blade penetrated, all that was left of the Apostle of Wrath was a muted murmur.
His head was severed, yet his colossal frame, reminiscent of ancient war gods, continued its senseless slaughter.
John kept a considerable distance, watching the headless Apostle, who was now bereft of the ability to sense his surroundings and acted purely on instinct.
In the stands, the last terrified spectator collapsed.
The Apostle's massive frame wavered for a moment and then fell to the ground.
The Apostle of Wrath was dead.
John chuckled, addressing the fallen giant, "Did you truly believe you were powerful? It wasn't you controlling the slaughter; the slaughter controlled you!"
John collected the rewards from the Apostle's lifeless form:
[Name: Heart of Wrath!]
[Type: Rare]
[Effect: Attack Power +100000, Critical Rate +15%, Accuracy +10%]
[One of the items needed to ignite the God Flame]
John secured the Heart of Wrath and, with other materials in hand, opened his inventory.
He gulped down a healing potion, feeling a bit more settled.
That the Apostle of Wrath could seal his items was unsettling.
This made John ponder.
As battles in the future might involve more peculiar abilities, he'd need to consider updating his equipment.
John stepped onto the teleportation circle, leaving the eighth layer.
A system notification echoed:
[Player Galewind has entered the Ninth Layer of the Twelve Trials of the Hero hidden Trail: Land of Lust.]
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