Chapter 382

Chapter 382: The Competition Begins

Years ago during the civil war of the Belmar Kingdom, Midi journeyed into the scorched Forest of Gran seeking the Palace’s heritage.

During that gamble, he met the sister duo "Spark Dual Pistols" Odel and "Butterfly Dual Pistols" Alyn, securing support from mercenary corps like Iron Blood, Mountain Wolf, and Morning Star.

These mercenary corps later became the foundation for Midi to abandon traditional army structures and forge the Hawk Brigade—an elite Legion entirely composed of practitioners.

In that same gamble, he clashed with a hostile faction: the Blood Blade Mercenary Corps.

While competing for the Palace’s heritage, Midi crushed the Blood Blade forces, scattering them in defeat.

Their strongest fighter—Mason, a Level 45 dark elf roaming gunslinger—had both hands severed by Midi before fleeing in disgrace.

Though Midi faced countless enemies over the years, Mason stood out: a ranged specialist countering Melee Fighters, encountered when Midi himself was still weaker.

Now, to Midi’s mild astonishment, that same dark elf—matching his memories of posture and expression—stood among another team of slave warriors… as their top-ranked combatant.

Confirming through Zaknavan, Midi learned this was indeed Mason.

The dark elf’s hands had been magically restored, his power awakened to Level 61’s peak. Though once broken by Midi, he’d clawed back from defeat.

Why Mason now served as a slave warrior remained unclear, but complications were inevitable.

Fortunately, Mason’s prolonged missions kept him unaware of the Wolfspider tribe’s new human arrival. He entered the points competition coldly focused, showing no interest in scanning the crowd.

Yet Midi’s imminent participation would expose everything.

Zaknavan aimed only to defeat the fourth and fifth ranks. But with the unrivaled top fighter harboring old grudges against Midi, chaos loomed. Even Midi couldn’t predict the outcome.

Before further contemplation, the competition commenced.

Each slave warrior received numbered tags upon entry. Midi held Red Nine—lowest rank in the red team. The dark elf mage "Ice Hand" claimed Red One.

Match order relied on random draws, not rankings. Since points required battling all eight group members, the Wolfspider tribe prevented "sniping tactics"—weaker fighters draining strong challengers to protect top ranks.

This draw system sometimes paired champions against challengers immediately.

Identical rules governed both slave warriors and the tribe’s own warrior selections.

No matter where you were, being the strongest defined the style of the Shaded Realm.

As the drawing rounds proceeded, group selections began.

“Red Four versus Red Five!”

“Green One versus Green Seven!”

“Black Five versus Black One!”

Judges’ announcements echoed across the arena.

Early matches concluded swiftly.

The judges, captains of the Wolf Spider family warriors, were experienced and sharp-eyed, quickly deciding matches where the strength gap was clear.

In the Black Five versus Black One match, the rankings alone revealed the disparity. The dark elf Demon Swordman “Blood Hand” (Black One) wounded his opponent within moments, leaving no doubt.

Unlike the bloodshed of Black Rock Cave, slave warriors here held back, avoiding lethal force.

This was a points competition, not a single decisive battle.

Even reigning champions avoided early ruthlessness. Overly aggressive tactics risked provoking desperate counterattacks, making point accumulation harder.

Even total victory through killing all eight opponents would leave them exhausted against other group champions later.

Thus, none revealed their full power or trump cards initially.

“Red Nine versus Red Six!”

Midi’s turn arrived.

He leaped lightly onto the platform.

Red Six, a barrel-shaped gray dwarf in heavy armor, gripped his axe warily.

Gray dwarves relied on attack power, defense, and low-center stability, typically countering agile dark elves.

But their poor magic aptitude limited most to brute-force combat, unable to contract demon gods.

Midi had already demonstrated overwhelming strength by sending the mighty Lizardman flying.

“Mountain Shatter!”

The gray dwarf warrior charged, channeling all his strength.

Though fearsome-looking, this strike lacked the power of the demon god, merely crudely manipulating magic. Midi dismissed it.

Midi stepped forward casually.

His dual swords flashed, unleashing the true Demon Swordman skill “Mountain Shatter.”

Metal clashed, sparks erupting where blades met axe.

A golden-red glow enveloped Midi as his swords struck like rainfall from all angles.

Against the sturdy dwarf, Midi maintained his “direct combat” dominance—not through brute force alone, but with masterful swordsmanship and battle-hardened ferocity.

Every strike was powerful, swift, and fluid. How could a gray dwarf relying only on brute force withstand such an onslaught?

In just two exchanges, Midi broke through his opponent’s defenses. Charging forward, he flipped his sword and smashed the hilt into the gray dwarf’s stomach.

"Argh!" The dwarf shrieked, flying backward like a kicked ball before tumbling out of the arena.

"Red Nine’s victory."

After a brief pause, the judge announced the result.

Midi’s first match ended in an easy win.

The weak opponent drew little attention. Neither Galantis who came early nor the dark elves familiar with Midi’s brute strength seemed surprised by his victory.

Yet unease lingered in the priestess’s gaze. She knew Midi would inevitably face Ice Hand this time.

Within the Wolfspider tribe, the dark elf prisoner of war boasted notable contribution points, but both he and his brother Blood Hand were known for cruelty.

"Red Nine versus Red Eight!"

Midi’s second match commenced shortly after.

Having easily defeated the sixth-ranked gray dwarf, the eighth-ranked black dwarf stood even less chance against his assault.

The twin blades sliced through the air like a cold wind.

Thud!

Another hilt strike to the gut. The black dwarf collapsed, weapons clattering as he rolled off the platform clutching his stomach.

"Using basic moves to win…" dark elves murmured. "Once might have been a fluke, but twice was intentional."

This time the judge immediately declared: "Red Nine wins!"

Two consecutive victories shifted the crowd’s attitude. Fewer dark elves viewed the human as mere entertainment now.

Midi maintained his strategy through subsequent matches – overwhelming defenses with storm-like barrages before finishing opponents with his sword hilt.

Four straight wins!

"Red Nine versus Red Three!"

Midi’s fifth opponent marked his first high-ranked challenger – a half-giant with stone giant ancestry. The towering figure dwarfed even lizardmen.

Midi recognized him as Ice Hand’s lackey, the loudest heckler during yesterday’s skirmish.

"Crush him completely," Ice Hand ordered loudly, ensuring Midi heard.

"Puny human! I’ll grind your bones to paste!"

The half-giant loomed like a towering mountain, blocking Midi’s entire view. Dark Magic seethed through his limbs, oppressive energy flooding the arena.