Chapter 238

Chapter 238: The Hundredth Floor Starting Point

The Radiance of Light absorbed by Midi transformed into a milky-white current of warmth that flowed through his body. Sensing the aura of light elements within this energy, the Dragon Sealing Sword inside him trembled, instantly pulling the warm current to coil around its blade. Golden light surged beneath Midi’s skin, glowing from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils as a hazy mist formed above his head—a faint sign of leveling-up phenomena.

But the vision vanished as quickly as it appeared. When all the Radiance of Light had been absorbed, only sharp yet intricate light patterns remained etched on the Dragon Sealing Sword. Remembering his battle against the Lord of the Light City, when activating the Berserker’s Awakening Skill "Blood Rage" had boosted him directly to level 55, similar patterns had appeared. Midi realized now: for an Awakened One of Extraordinary Awakening like himself, "leveling up" meant refining the Dragon Sealing Sword within him.

Though Radiance of Light didn’t directly strengthen his body, it was vital for enhancing the sword—and thus key to his growth. Likely, future "Dark Radiance" and "Fang Radiance" would work the same.

A few hundred grams of Radiance of Light weren’t enough to level him up, but after absorbing it, Midi felt his stagnant power loosen slightly. This small amount had done more for him than a year of gambles!

"Finally, a clear path forward." Midi grinned, sensing the sword’s changes. Even without the Rothschild Guild’s help, this trip was already worth it for the Radiance alone.

Truthfully, battles in the Sky Arena now mattered more than the guild’s secrets. His goal had always been strength—for himself, the Hawk Brigade, and Belmar. With this clarity, there was no need for detours.

Charge straight ahead.

A fierce glint flashed in his dark eyes.

The next day, Midi won three battles, rising to the 85th floor. On the third day, three more victories took him to the 100th floor—the mark of an Awakened Expert recognized across the Sea of Clouds.

No longer just a curiosity, he’d become a gladiator respected by audiences and feared by enemies. Tickets for his matches now cost ten times more, spawning a frenzy of scalpers.

Factions scrambled for intelligence. Some sent their own gladiators to test him—only to be crushed instantly. Others deployed scouts, but found nothing. Yet Midi’s growing power and mystery only amplified his fame.

The dark elf attendant, unable to seduce him, shrewdly became his agent, handling all arrangements.

When Midi reached the 100th floor, bets finally emerged. While unofficial gambling had existed below, his brutal efficiency made wagering pointless—eleven straight fights, all under a minute. The longest? Forty-nine seconds against a Dragonkin using turtle-like defense tactics. The man still flew out with half his bones broken, unconscious.

Now, the only bets left were:

Could an opponent last a minute?

Could they survive?

Unfortunately, even with the "one-minute" limit, the betting scale remained small. Almost everyone believed Midi would secure an overwhelming victory, causing the odds to tilt heavily. Whether his opponent survived depended entirely on Midi’s mood at the time—something no one could predict.

Even the shrewdest bookmakers couldn’t devise decent betting options and eventually gave up.

Luckily, the wait wasn’t long. Lured by the "Radiance of Light," Midi’s focus sharpened. In three days, he claimed ten consecutive victories and effortlessly rose to the hundredth floor.

Now the real game began for the bookmakers. Only at the hundredth floor would True Experts emerge.

"Mr. Blade, here are the post-hundredth-floor rules and reward list. I’ve also compiled data on high-tier gladiators above this level," cooed the dark elf attendant, handing Midi a steaming cup of black tea. She slid a thick dossier toward him, deliberately brushing her chest against his arm.

Midi sipped his tea, ignored her advances as usual, and began reviewing the documents.

The rules beyond the hundredth floor differed completely. Floor progression grew complex, opponents became fiercer, rewards richer, and gladiators gained new privileges.

Here, gladiators had to fight at least once monthly. Missing a match counted as a loss. Four losses stripped them of their high-tier gladiator title and dropped them back to the fiftieth floor—starting over.

Four straight wins or seven victories in ten matches earned the right to challenge a floor master. Success granted the "Heavenly Tier Gladiator" title.

The rules said nothing beyond this—Midi’s current status didn’t permit deeper knowledge.

Rewards mirrored his previous tier, as his ten wins already matched hundredth-floor standards. Only the "Radiance of Light" interested him. Becoming a Heavenly Tier Gladiator might yield crystallized Radiance instead of mere powder.

"My current goal is clear—become a floor master," Midi concluded.

"Exactly, Mr. Blade. But since you’ve just arrived, why not rest this month? Learn the arenas, study opponents, devise tactics—" the dark elf reasoned. Lately, she’d transitioned from seductress to strategist, though occasional flirtations persisted.

"Prudent advice, but I’ll challenge immediately." Midi shook his head. This wasn’t arrogance—it was about momentum.

Ten straight wins made him the spotlight. Hiding for a month would scatter his audience and invite "bully of the weak" accusations.

Reputation meant survival. Alone in the Sky Arena’s Sea of Clouds—no army, no allies—each loss risked expulsion. He couldn’t waste hard-earned fame.

He needed to prove his dominance extended beyond the lower floors.

"Understood. Shall we pick your opponent now?" Unfazed by rejection, the attendant flipped to the gladiator profiles. Her dossier combined official records with personal investigations.

Some entries brimmed with details; others offered sparse notes on mysterious fighters. The thoroughness impressed Midi—especially considering her recent role shift from seductive maid to analyst.

Reaching the hundredth floor in three days had demanded her utmost effort.

For a heartbeat, Midi felt tempted. A capable aide saved precious time. Yet she remained an enigma—Sky Arena assignee, potential spy. Trust required caution.

Still, she’d earned his notice.

"Your name?" he asked suddenly.

"Eh?" The dark elf blinked, then beamed. "Avril, Mr. Blade!"

"From now on, you’re my secretary. Build a team—handle details through them." Midi met her gaze squarely.

Avril’s breath hitched. This wasn’t just promotion—it was validation. Days of tireless work had borne fruit.

Tears glistened. Performance or sincerity? Midi wondered.

Clearing his throat, he tapped the dossier. "My opponent’s decided. We fight in three days."

The page showed a People of the Heavens Demon Swordman:

"Bloody Killing Sword" Batolun.

Level 56.