The black wolf continued calmly on its way before joining Irene. It lay down beside her as the young woman celebrated her victory with her crew.
Meanwhile, Nolan took out his card and carefully studied the number on it.
"I wonder when my turn will start..." He sighed. Waiting around doing nothing was clearly not his style.
No matter when his fight began, he refused to sit and wait.
Nolan set Tempête down on the ground.
"Well, I might as well use this time to prepare." He started with a few simple exercises.
Quick push-ups.
Then pull-ups on the bars provided.
His pace gradually increased.
Even though the exercises were relatively basic, Nolan performed them with a certain intensity.
After a few sets, he noticed a rope lying abandoned in a corner.
He retrieved it and securely tied it to a metal bar.
He then secured his feet to the bar and let his body hang in mid-air.
Then he began a series of abdominal exercises, lifting his torso towards his legs.
Once.
Twice.
Ten times.
Twenty times.
Nolan continued without slowing down.
Gradually, eyes began to turn towards him.
Fighters who had been talking momentarily stopped their conversation.
A pirate watched Nolan in silence.
A knight crossed his arms.
Even some mages seemed intrigued by this young man training calmly amidst all these fighters.
Nolan, however, couldn't care less.
"Let them watch if they want."
From waking up in Azaria's house until arriving here, he had barely used his body.
And he was beginning to feel that unpleasant sensation. "I've spent the whole day without any real physical exertion… My body is already starting to succumb to laziness." He continued his training with determination.
Meanwhile, Tempête was calmly exploring the surroundings.
The little wolf walked among the fighters, observing everything around him with insatiable curiosity.
Then his attention was drawn to the large metal gate leading to the arena.
He approached it.
He studied the bars for a few seconds.
Then, without the slightest difficulty, his small body slipped between two sufficiently wide gaps.
Tempête found himself in the arena.
He wagged his tail happily and flapped his wings slightly.
Nolan, still hanging from his rope, suddenly noticed his absence.
He frowned.
"Tempête?" He looked around.
Then he spotted him.
His little companion was calmly in the arena. "...What are you doing over there?!" Nolan quickly untied the rope.
He landed on his feet and headed for the door.
But before he could reach Tempest, a voice called out to him.
"Hey, young man." Nolan stopped.
He turned around.
An old man stood behind him.
His appearance was, to say the least, peculiar.
He wore a long black and green wizard's robe and a worn cloak. A long gray beard reached down to his chest.
One of his eyes was completely missing.
The other, however, seemed unable to stay still and constantly moved in different directions.
In his hand, the old man held a scroll filled with names.
A quill was held between his fingers, and he seemed to be writing as he spoke.
Nolan stared at him for a few seconds.
"Yes? Can I help you?" "The old man pointed at Stormfly with the tip of his quill.
"Everyone's talking about that little ball of fur you're carrying around." He paused and slowly stroked his long beard.
His gaze settled on Stormfly.
"And it is indeed a mythical creature… What extraordinary luck you've had to get your hands on such a rare specimen." Nolan raised an eyebrow slightly.
"What luck should I seize exactly?" A strange, raucous laugh escaped the old man's throat.
"Hohohoho…" He moved his face slightly closer to Nolan's.
"I'd like to propose a deal that could satisfy both of us. Tell me your price… and I'll give you the money." Nolan immediately understood what he was getting at.
His expression turned cold.
"My young friend is not for sale." "The old man didn't seem surprised.
On the contrary, his smile widened.
"Hohoho… So you're refusing without even knowing the amount." He looked at Tempête, then back at Nolan.
"The price for such a young mythical creature can reach… three hundred million Rhuk Diamant." He deliberately pronounced the sum slowly.
"Three hundred million."
The old magician watched Nolan's face intently, clearly waiting for the slightest hesitation.
But nothing.
No surprise.
No covetousness.
Not even a change in expression.
Nolan simply stared at the old man.
"Not even for three hundred million, I won't sell him." The magician's smile faded slightly.
Nolan looked at Stormfly.
The little wolf had already started to come back to him.
"Stormfly isn't merchandise." The young man placed a hand on his companion's head.
"He's my friend." Stormfly looked up at Nolan and let out a small, joyful cry.
The old magician remained silent.
He simply continued to stroke his long beard, his good eye fixed on Nolan. Ten seconds passed in an almost awkward silence.
Then he finally sighed.
"Well... you might change your mind. Not all days are the same, after all."
Nolan opened his mouth to reply, but the magician immediately raised a hand in front of him.
"For that, you'll have to wait an eternity."
The old man raised a finger, looking slightly annoyed.
"I'm not going to steal your tongue, young man. You'll have all the time you need to speak. So, please... don't interrupt me again."
Nolan remained silent.
He was about to reply.
But suddenly...
A cold sweat broke out on his back.
His expression changed slightly.
An inexplicable feeling had just washed over him.
Someone had chosen something wrong.
He didn't know what.
He wasn't carrying any threat.
The old magician hadn't unleashed the slightest hint of a murderous aura. His body was perfectly relaxed. No sudden movements, no aggressive posture.
And yet...
Nolan sensed something.
A presence that instinctively made him want to back away.
His shoulders sometimes felt like they weighed several dozen pounds.
"This is insane..."
Nolan watched the old man intently.
"He hasn't unleashed his aura. He's showing no signs of hostility... So why is my instinct screaming at me to be wary?"
He clenched his teeth slightly.
"What's going on?"
Beside him, Tempête was also staring at the old magician.
But unlike Nolan, the little wolf didn't seem at all afraid.
The old man noticed his gaze and gave him an amused smile.
Tempête responded with a soft grunt.
The magician chuckled.
"Hoho... What a brave little boy."
After a few interminable seconds, Nolan finally gave in.
He relaxed his shoulders slightly.
"Of course... Please continue."
The old magician smiled as if nothing had happened.
"That's better."
He calmly picked up his parchment again.
"If you plan to come to this place often, please come and visit me. We can get to know each other better."
Nolan remained somewhat hesitant.
His expression betrayed him.
The old magician noticed it immediately.
He then approached and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, my young boy. Nothing will happen to you."
Nolan didn't reply.
The old man continued in a surprisingly calm voice:
"I can offer you far more opportunities than these simple underground fights."
Nolan narrowed his eyes.
The magician leaned slightly toward him.
"After all... a user of dark magic is particularly valuable as a partner."
Nolan remained silent for a few moments.
Then his gaze fell upon the scroll the old man held firmly between his fingers.
"What exactly is your role here?"
The magician followed his gaze before examining the document.
A smile appeared on his face.
"Oh? This?"
He lightly tapped the parchment.
"I'm, in a way, the accountant for this place."
He held up the document.
"I record the names of the participants, I keep track of the bets, and I collect a portion of the profits generated by the Black Dog Tavern."
Nolan looked at the parchment more closely.
Dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of names were written on it.
The old magician continued:
"Normally, I leave all that to my subordinates."
He shrugged.
"But I was bored in my office."
His smile widened.
"And when I heard about a young man possessing a mythical creature..."
His gaze fell on Tempest.
"I hurried to come and meet you."
Nolan remained silent.
He was beginning to to understand that this meeting was probably not insignificant.
Nolan observed the old magician for a few moments before asking him a question.
"How can I contact you in such a vast place?" The old man offered a mysterious smile.
Without immediately answering, he slipped his hand inside his magician's robes.
After a few seconds, he produced a black bracelet.
The object was elegant and appeared to be made of a particularly durable material. Several griffin figures were engraved all around it.
The old magician held it out to Nolan.
"Here. Take this bracelet." Nolan took it delicately.
"The griffin figures are my personal symbol." The old man stroked his beard.
"And its properties should be of particular interest to you." Intrigued, Nolan immediately activated his skill.
[Analysis] A translucent screen appeared before his eyes.
Name: Greifen Bracelet
Type: Magical Artifact
Specialty: Spatial Storage
Description: An artifact that allows the storage and concealment of various objects within a dimensional space.
Storage Capacity: 0 / 2000
Nolan remained silent for a few seconds.
Then his eyes widened slightly.
"A spatial storage artifact..." He looked at the bracelet again.
"And with a capacity of two thousand slots..."
Even though they were relatively common in the city, spatial storage artifacts remained particularly useful objects.
They allowed the storage of all sorts of things: weapons, armor, clothing, potions, and many other items.
However, not all spatial storage artifacts were created equal.
Their quality depended primarily on three factors.
First: storage capacity.
The available space varied considerably from one artifact to another. Some could hold only a few items, while others had enough space to carry a veritable arsenal.
Secondly: versatility.
Not all artifacts were capable of storing the same types of items.
Some were designed exclusively for potions.
Others could only hold weapons.
Still others were limited to clothing or materials.
Higher-quality artifacts, however, could store a wide variety of items without distinction.
And finally: price.
It was obvious that an artifact costing a thousand Rhuk in gold would generally be of much higher quality than one sold for the same amount in silver Rhuk.
Nolan slowly closed his hand around the bracelet.
"This old man is giving me such a valuable item... for free?" Before he could ask any more questions, the old magician gently patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't thank me. Just use it wisely." Nolan turned his head slightly.
"Wait..." But the old magician had already started to leave.
His figure slowly disappeared down the corridor.
Nolan stood motionless for a few moments, observing the bracelet.
"Stranger and stranger..." Then suddenly...
DOOOOONG!
A powerful voice boomed from the arena.
It was amplified by a magical sound device.
"PARTICIPANT NUMBER EIGHT VS. PARTICIPANT NUMBER FIFTEEN!" The conversations gradually ceased.
"PLEASE PROCEED TO THE ARENA IMMEDIATELY TO COMPLETE YOUR MATCH!" "Nolan looked up.
A smile slowly appeared on his face.
"It's finally time." Without waiting, he headed towards the arena entrance.
Storm let out a small yelp and immediately pounced on him.
The young wolf grabbed onto his clothes before climbing up to his shoulder.
Nolan gave him an amused look.
"You want to watch the show too?"
Storm wagged his tail happily.
"Very well. But be careful." The huge metal doors opened.
GRRRRRRRAAAAAANG!
At once, a wave of sound hit Nolan.
Shouts.
Howls.
Applause.
Thousands of spectators were gathered around the arena.
"A NEW FIGHTER!"
"IT'S NUMBER EIGHT!" "He looks so young!"
"He's going to get crushed!"
Nolan entered the arena, ignoring the taunts.
The sand crunched beneath his feet.
He glanced up slightly.
Several hundred meters above him was a huge box.
A man was seated inside.
In front of him was an imposing sound system.
The announcer.
His voice boomed throughout the arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen... and all creatures gathered here tonight!"
The crowd immediately roared.
The announcer raised his arms.
"We are about to witness another fight!" The spectators pounded their seats and the barriers.
"To my left... contestant number eight!" "Nolan stepped forward.
Thousands of eyes immediately turned to him.
The announcer continued:
"AND TO MY RIGHT…" An impatient silence fell over the stands.
"CONTESTANT NUMBER FIFTEEN!" The massive doors at the far end of the arena began to slowly open.
As the massive doors at the far end of the arena began to slowly open, Nolan stared into the darkness beyond.
"Let's see... who am I going to face?"
A metallic screech rang out.
GRRRRRRRAAAAAANG...
Then a figure appeared.
A small figure slowly emerged from the shadows.
The person seemed to belong to the Rogue class.
Concealed beneath a large, worn hood, they advanced with an almost unsettling stealth. Their black leather outfit slid silently against their body, and only the slight rustle of their equipment betrayed their presence.
Several daggers were hidden along their sides.
Short weapons.
Deadly.
Nolan carefully observed his opponent.
Rogues were a particularly treacherous and aggressive class.
They shared some characteristics with thieves and assassins, but there were several important differences between these three classes.
Thieves, first of all, weren't necessarily fighters.
Their class primarily specialized in theft, infiltration, and stealth. They generally favored escape and agility over direct confrontation.
Assassins, on the other hand, were true fighters.
They specialized in eliminating their targets using lethal and highly effective methods. Fast, trained, and dangerous, they often mastered complex assassination techniques.
Rogues, meanwhile, fell somewhere between these two categories.
They possessed a fighting style similar to that of assassins, but primarily used daggers, tools, and various potions to gain the upper hand.
Where some assassins favored swords and poisonous substances, Rogues preferred versatility.
Bombs.
Potions.
Smoke grenades.
Concealed blades.
Anything could become a weapon in their hands.
The figure continued to advance.
Then, just a few meters from Nolan, it slowly raised its hands toward its hood.
And pulled it back.
Nolan could finally see its face.
It was a bald man with a light mustache.
His face was covered in dirt, and his overall appearance suggested he hadn't taken care of himself in a long time.
But his eyes...
They were different.
A piercing gaze.
Cold.
Calculating.
Nolan immediately understood that, despite his disheveled appearance, this man was probably not as insignificant as he seemed.
The individual stared at Nolan for several seconds.
The individual's expression was one of profound contempt as he observed Nolan, then Tempête perched beside him.
A mocking smile stretched across his lips.
"You really come here with a little creature to assist you in your fight? Aren't you ashamed?" He burst into a loud, provocative laugh.
"Hahaha! What a joke..." Nolan remained perfectly calm.
He placed a hand on his chin and carefully observed his opponent.
"That's impressive, I must say." The Rogue narrowed his eyes.
"What are you talking about?" Nolan feigned thoughtfulness.
"Even with a distance of twenty meters between us..." He paused briefly.
Then a smile appeared on his face.
"...I can see my reflection in your skull." A hush fell over the arena.
For a fraction of a second. Then...
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
The entire arena erupted in laughter.
"DID HE REALLY SAY THAT?!"
"HIS SKULL SHINES BETTER THAN THE SAND!"
"LOOK AT HIM, HE'S TURNING RED!"
Even some of the fighters behind the metal barriers burst out laughing.
Nolan had spoken loudly enough for all the spectators to hear his remark perfectly.
Sifkgor, however, remained motionless.
His face contorted.
His eyes trembled with anger.
"So..."
His fists clenched.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH?!" Nolan raised an eyebrow.
"That's the pot calling the kettle black." This time, the laughter intensified.
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Sifkgor's anger reached its peak.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" An aggressive aura suddenly emanated from his body.
The veins in his skull bulged with rage.
Nolan's smile gradually faded.
"Okay... enough joking around."
He immediately activated his skill.
[Analysis]
A translucent screen appeared before him.
Name: Sifkgor
Class: Rogue
Rank: F - Intermediate
Level: 6
Agility: 5
Strength: 3
Endurance: 5
Skills:
Mastery of close-quarters dagger combat.
Offensive potion combinations.
Nolan carefully examined the information.
"Rank F..." His expression turned serious.
"He shouldn't worry me that much." He tightened his grip slightly.
"I'm rank E and I outclass him in practically every aspect." But his expression remained cautious.
"However, that's no guarantee of victory." His gaze fell on the numerous pockets on Sifkgor's leather outfit.
"I have to stay on my guard. Who knows what his potions might contain..."
Sifkgor suddenly plunged his hands into his jacket.
He pulled out two small vials.
Nolan frowned.
"What the..."
CLANG!
The two vials were flung to the ground.
CRASH!
They shattered.
Immediately, a thick, bluish smoke began to spread around the Rogue.
"Oh?" Nolan stepped back slightly.
He held out his right hand.
The energy of darkness began to concentrate in his palm.
WHOOSH...
A long shadow sword gradually took shape.
Nolan closed his fingers around the hilt.
Then he pointed the blade toward the smoke.
Storm let out a small, worried cry.
"Woof..." Nolan glanced down at him slightly.
His expression softened.
He gently touched his small nose.
"Don't worry, kiddo." "Nothing will happen to you." Storm stared at Nolan for a few seconds.
Then he stepped back slightly.
The bluish smoke continued to dissipate.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Then...
Five seconds later...
The smoke vanished completely.
And Sifkgor was gone.
A stunned silence fell over the arena.
"What the hell is going on?!"
"WHERE DID HE GO?!"
"HE'S GONE!" The spectators leapt from their seats.
Thousands of eyes scanned the arena, searching for the Rogue.
Nolan, however, remained perfectly still.
His eyes widened slightly.
"A teleportation potion?"
He immediately began to scan his surroundings.
To the left.
To the right.
In front of him.
Without moving his body excessively. Without showing the slightest sign of panic.
"He probably won't try to attack me head-on." Nolan tightened his grip on his sword.
"Nor directly from the sides. That would be far too risky for him." His gaze remained fixed straight ahead.
"He must surely know that I'm of a higher rank than him..." He inhaled silently.
"The best option for him would then be..." His expression changed.
"...to attack me from behind." The very instant the thought crossed his mind...
FWOOSH!
A presence materialized directly behind him.
Sifkgor appeared.
His two daggers were already raised.
"DIE!"
CLACK!
Without even turning around, Nolan placed his shadow sword behind his back.
Sifkgor's two daggers slammed against the dark blade.
A shockwave stirred the sand around them slightly.
Sifkgor's eyes widened.
"What?!" He froze for a brief moment.
"How...?"
Nolan hadn't even turned his head.
He had simply positioned his sword exactly where the attack was about to land.
Sifkgor immediately leaped back.
He propelled himself several meters to put some distance between them.
Nolan finally turned around.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"So that was your plan?" Sifkgor gritted his teeth.
"Tch..." He then activated his own ability.
[Analysis]
His gaze swept over Nolan.
Then his expression changed abruptly.
"A dungeon hunter?!" Surprise was clearly visible in his eyes.
"And he's rank E…" He observed Nolan with much more caution.
"No wonder he was able to counter my attack so easily." His fingers tightened around his daggers.
For the first time since the start of the fight, his arrogant smile had completely vanished.
"This won't be as easy as you thought…" Nolan, for his part, slowly twirled his shadow sword in his hand.
Twirling his shadow sword between his fingers, Nolan slowly approached Sifkgor.
His steps were calm.
Almost too calm.
Facing him, the Rogue kept his two daggers raised, but his gaze now betrayed a certain tension.
Nolan smiled slightly.
"You'll have to try harder than that to defeat me, Sifkgor. Don't waste your time with useless tactics."
Sifkgor gritted his teeth.
"Tch... You think your E rank will be enough to win this fight?" He spat on the sand, visibly annoyed.
"Here, anything goes."
A disturbing smile then appeared on his face.
"And I haven't said my last word yet."
Suddenly, he plunged his hands into his jacket.
He pulled out four small vials.
One blue.
One red.
One white.
And one green. Nolan narrowed his eyes.
"What are you up to now?"
"You'll soon find out."
CRASH!
Sifkgor hurled the four potions around him.
The vials shattered on impact with the ground.
A strange magical substance began to bubble in the sand.
Then...
PLOP!
A small creature appeared.
Then a second.
A third.
And finally, a fourth.
Nolan's eyes widened slightly.
"Slimes?!" The four gelatinous creatures quickly changed color.
The blue slime was surrounded by a slight moisture.
The red one emitted a faint warmth.
The white one seemed to produce small gusts of air.
And the green one sprouted tiny plants around itself.
Nolan studied the creatures closely.
"Slimes that can cast elemental spells, too..." Sifkgor grinned proudly. "Impressive, isn't it?" Nolan shrugged.
"Thanks, I can see that." He twirled his shadow sword.
"But I'm really wondering how these creatures are going to help you beat me." Sifkgor's smile tightened slightly.
He abruptly pointed his finger at Nolan.
"Attack, my little ones!" His face suddenly turned ferocious.
"GO FOR IT AND SMASH IT INTO MINCES!" The four slimes leaped forward simultaneously.
Nolan activated his skill.
[Analysis]
A screen appeared before his eyes.
He quickly scanned the information about the creatures.
Then his expression turned almost disappointed.
"Their overall level is relatively low…" The red slime concentrated a small fireball.
The blue one formed a water lance.
The white one gathered several gusts of wind.
As the green energy caused long roots to emerge from the sand.
"Even their mastery of elemental magic leaves much to be desired." Nolan immediately understood Sifkgor's strategy.
His gaze lingered briefly on the Rogue.
"He's only using them to buy time." A smile appeared on his face.
"It's a desperate tactic."
"Too bad."
Then...
BOOM!
Nolan almost vanished from his starting point.
His speed was such that several spectators briefly lost sight of him.
The slimes launched their attacks simultaneously.
FWOOSH!
SPLASH!
WHOOOSH!
CRACK!
Fire, water, wind, and roots converged on Nolan.
But he suddenly leaped into the air.
"He jumped!"
"LOOK ABOVE!" Nolan raised his shadow sword. Then he violently swept the air in front of him.
"[Shadow Slash]!"
"VOOOOOSH!"
A gigantic blade of dark energy ripped through the arena.
The slimes didn't even have time to react.
"BOOOOM!"
The attack crashed down on them.
Sand was thrown in all directions.
The four creatures were instantly destroyed.
Their gelatinous bodies disintegrated.
Soon, nothing remained.
Only...
Dust.
Sifkgor remained motionless.
His face went pale.
"M-My slimes..." The dust gradually settled.
Sifkgor immediately looked around for Nolan.
But...
He was gone.
The young man had vanished.
The Rogue's eyes widened.
"What?!" He instinctively stepped back.
"Where did he go?!" His gaze frantically scanned the arena.
Left.
Right.
In front of him.
Behind him.
Nothing.
His heart began to pound.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
A cold sweat trickled down his back.
A chill of danger gripped his entire body.
"No..." He clenched his daggers. "Show yourself, you filthy son of a bitch…" A voice abruptly interrupted his sentence.
Right next to his ear.
"It's time for judgment."
Sifkgor froze.
His eyes widened in terror.
Nolan was there.
Right beside him.
"BEHIND YOU!" a spectator yelled.
Sifkgor immediately turned and tried to strike.
"SWISH!"
His daggers flew through the air.
Nolan had already vanished.
"Damn it!" Sifkgor jerked his head around.
Nothing.
Then…
"FWOOSH!"
Nolan reappeared in front of him.
Sifkgor raised his daggers.
But Nolan disappeared again.
"STOP…!"
"BOOOOM!" A violent kick slammed brutally into his abdomen. — AAARGH!
Sifkgor's body was hurled across the arena.
He slid for dozens of meters before crashing heavily onto the sand.
A cloud of dust rose.
— What a blow!
— HE SENT HIM FLYING!
— FINISH HIM OFF!
Sifkgor coughed up blood.
His two daggers had been ejected from his hands upon impact.
He spotted them further away.
— My... daggers...
Trembling, he struggled to his knees.
Every movement tore at him with unbearable pain.
But he nevertheless began to crawl toward his weapons.
— I... must...
His fingers dug into the sand.
— I must continue...
A shadow then appeared above him.
Sifkgor stopped.
Nolan was already there. The young man calmly placed a foot on his back, preventing him from moving forward.
Sifkgor tried to struggle.
"LET ME GO!"
Nolan didn't reply.
He simply grabbed the Rogue by his clothing.
Then he turned him over abruptly.
Sifkgor found himself lying on his back, facing Nolan.
A shadow sword appeared in Nolan's hand.
The tip of the blade moved toward his face.
Around them, the spectators went wild.
"THIS IS IT! THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE SHOW!"
"HE'S GOING TO KILL HIM!"
"GO ON, KID! FINISH HIM OFF!"
"MAKE HIM BLEED, DAMMIT!"
Sifkgor trembled.
He looked at the tip of the sword.
Then at Nolan.
Then at the sky.
Slowly...
He closed his eyes.
"It's over..."
His body relaxed.
He had accepted his fate.
A second passed.
Then two.
But nothing happened.
No pain.
No blood.
Sifkgor slowly opened his eyes.
The sword was gone.
Nolan looked at him calmly.
"I'm not going to kill you. You don't have to worry."
Sifkgor remained silent.
Then he frowned sharply.
"Why?"
Nolan shrugged.
"Because I don't want to."
"But that's the rule!" Frustration was etched on the Rogue's face.
"You have to finish me off." Nolan smiled slightly.
"I don't care about the rules."
His gaze turned colder.
"I am only my own goal." Sifkgor watched Nolan suspiciously.
He knew this kind of place too well to believe in an act of kindness.
"What do you want in exchange for my life?" Nolan raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Sifkgor continued.
"You must want something. No one lets anyone live for free here."
A smile appeared on Nolan's face.
"Indeed."
He held up a finger.
"First, give me all the money you're carrying."
Then he held up a second finger.
"Second, give me the potions and valuables you've accumulated."
His smile widened.
"And quickly."
Sifkgor's eyes went wide. "WHAT?!"
"You heard me perfectly well."
"But I can't do that!" Sifkgor sat up slightly.
"I worked hard for all this!" Nolan stared at him for a few seconds.
Then his expression turned amused.
"Please..." He crossed his arms.
"You're a Rogue." Sifkgor remained silent.
"A soulless thief who fights in underground battles. Don't play the honest citizen with me."
"But..." Nolan leaned slightly toward him.
"Give me what I want."
His smile vanished.
"Or I'll kill you right now." Sifkgor blinked.
"But... you just said you were letting me live!" Nolan sighed.
"Only because you have things that interest me." His aura shifted abruptly.
A dark pressure began to emanate from his body.
Sifkgor's face froze.
"It's not out of pure altruism."
The dark energy surrounding Nolan grew more oppressive.
"If you're of little use to me..." He raised his hand slightly.
A small blade of shadow appeared.
"I'll cut your head off right now."
Sifkgor swallowed hard.
"Fine..." He was trembling.
"Fine! Take whatever you want! Just let me go!" He quickly rummaged through his clothes.
Then he began to pull out his belongings.
A purse full of coins.
Two potions.
And a strange crystal.
[Analysis]
-Loot Recovered
60,000 Rhuk Gold
-Slowing Potion
Inflicts a significant speed reduction on the enemy when successfully used.
-Duration: 10 seconds
-Healing Potion
Allows the user to neutralize certain low-level poisons.
-Agility Crystal
Temporarily increases agility by +3 after use.
The effect dissipates after the action ends.
Nolan's eyes lit up slightly.
"What a great find."
He calmly put the items away.
Then he looked at Sifkgor.
"Thank you."
The spectators, however, were far from satisfied. Boos erupted in the arena.
"THAT'S TERRIBLE!"
"THERE'S NOT EVEN BLOOD!"
"HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN MADE BLEED, THAT BALD PIECE OF SHIT!"
"GIVE US OUR MONEY BACK!"
Nolan completely ignored the protests.
Sifkgor, still lying on the sand, was breathing heavily.
At that moment, the announcer's voice boomed throughout the arena.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The crowd calmed slightly.
"THE WINNER OF THIS DUEL IS UNDENIABLY PARTICIPANT NUMBER EIGHT!"
Part of the audience applauded.
Others continued to boo.
"HE WINS THIS FIGHT BY A CLEAR DEFINITION!"
The announcer raised his arms.
"APPLAUD THE WINNER!"
A few claps rang out.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
Nolan turned away from Sifkgor.
Storm immediately ran towards him. "Woof!" Nolan smiled and picked him up.
"Well? Did you see that, kid?" Storm swished his tail happily.
Nolan then headed towards the large metal gate.
The heavy gates opened slowly.
GRRRRRRRR...
To the applause of some...
And the protests of others...
Nolan left the arena.
He quickly stuffed his new finds into his pockets and under his coat.
But behind him...
Sifkgor was still lying on the sand.
His gaze followed Nolan as he walked away.
His face was contorted with hatred.
His fists clenched.
"Nolan..."
His eyes turned dark.
"You humiliated me in front of this whole crowd..." He clenched his teeth until his jaw rattled.
"I'll find you." His gaze never left Nolan's back.
"No matter what I have to do..." A cold rage now burned in his heart.
"I will get my revenge on you." In the distance, without looking back, Nolan simply continued on his way.
Unaware that he may have just made...
a new enemy.
Nolan left the arena, Storm comfortably perched on his shoulder. Behind him, the crowd's shouts continued to echo, mingling with applause, insults, and the lively discussions of the bettors.
He continued his walk through the fighter preparation room.
His mind was still focused on his fight against Sifkgor.
"It wasn't exactly difficult..." He glanced at Storm.
"But this place is much more dangerous than I imagined." Just as he was about to step out of the exit leading to the main aisle...
A powerful female voice boomed behind him.
"HEY YOU, SHORTBREAD! COME FIGHT ME!"
Nolan stopped dead in his tracks.
Several people in the room immediately turned toward the voice.
The young man let out a soft sign before turning around.
And his gaze met Irene's. The young woman stood several meters away from him.
Her wide-brimmed hat casts a slight shadow on her face, while a predatory smile stretches across her lips.
She had already drawn one of her pistols.
The weapon was pointed directly at Nolan.
Beside her, several members of his crew watched the scene with amusement.
Her enormous black wolf, meanwhile, lay beside her.
But his eyes were fixed on Storm.
A silent tension settled in.
[Nolan's Perspective]
"Seriously…"
Nolan watched Irene without moving.
He discreetly activated his ability.
[Analysis]
A translucent screen appeared before him.
-Name: Irene
-Class: ???
-Level: ?
-Skills: ?
-Endurance: ?
-Strength: ?
-Durability: ?
-Defense: ?
Nolan frowned.
"Not again..." He stared intently at the information.
"Like with Matsuno...I'm unable to discern her true level."
His expression deepened.
"My analysis screen displays question marks regarding her level and skills, as well as all her attributes." He then recalled the fight she had waged in the arena.
The energy beam.
The power of his rifle.
Her immense wolf that had destroyed a magical weapon with a single bite.
A slight cold sweat trickled down Nolan's back.
"But unlike Sifkgor... I don't even need to know her level to understand the situation." He observed Irene's smile.
There was something in her eyes.
An almost unhealthy excitement.
A genuine thirst for battle.
And perhaps even...
A thirst for blood.
"She's in a different league than me." "Nolan discreetly clenched his fists.
"If I fight her… I have no chance of winning." He swallowed hard.
"Not even alive, probably." His gaze flicked briefly at Tempête.
"And I can't risk dragging him into a fight like that." A smile gradually appeared on his face.
"Very well…" He relaxed his shoulders.
"There are times when you have to know your limits." He made his decision.
"It's better to give up and stroke her ego than to die needlessly."
A silence fell.
Nolan still didn't answer.
Irene narrowed her eyes.
Her smile gradually faded.
"So, dwarf? Aren't you going to answer?"
Nolan remained silent.
Irene began to get annoyed.
"Have you gone mute or something?"
She raised her pistol slightly.
"Damn it, I'm talking to you."
Nolan slowly raised both hands.
His attitude was completely nonchalant.
"You see, Cruel Irene..." Irene raised an eyebrow.
Nolan continued with utmost seriousness.
"It would be a great lack of respect to your glorious self to accept a fight against you."
A silence fell.
Irene stared at him.
Nolan continued immediately.
"You are much stronger than me." He gestured toward his own body. "I'm just a frail fighter who's barely finished his first battle."
He shrugged.
"And frankly… I don't stand a chance against you."
Irene's crew began exchanging amused glances.
Nolan lowered his head slightly.
"I don't want to die needlessly."
Then he looked up.
"Then I'd rather give up. You're far superior to me."
A silence.
Then…
Irene remained motionless.
Her face seemed to be trying to comprehend what had just happened.
She was probably expecting a provocation.
A challenge.
A fight.
But certainly not this.
Then her smile returned.
A huge smile.
"…" She slowly holstered her pistol.
Then she burst out laughing.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" Her crew also started laughing.
"He's giving up before the fight even starts!"
"Not bad, kid!"
"At least he knows his place!" Irene wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye.
"It's obvious I'm stronger than you, runt!"
She pointed at Nolan.
"Wise decision."
Then her smile turned more cruel.
"What a coward..." She lightly licked her lips.
Her gaze fell on Stormfly.
"I wish I could have killed you."
Nolan didn't react.
But Irene continued.
"And then, roast this little creature."
Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"He looks delicious."
For a split second...
Stormfly remained motionless.
Then...
"GRRRRRR!" His small wings unfurled abruptly.
His fur bristled. — WRAAAAH!
Storm leaped from Nolan's shoulder.
"STORM!"
The little creature tried to charge straight at Irene.
Nolan immediately grabbed it in his arms.
"GRRRRR!"
Storm struggled.
Its little paws flailed wildly.
"LET ME GO!"
Its furious eyes seemed to scream.
Irene burst out laughing.
"HAHA! Look at this little ball of fur!"
His huge black wolf slowly stood up.
He stared at Storm.
A deep growl echoed in his throat.
GRRRRRRRR…
Storm tried to break free again.
Nolan held it lightly.
"Are you completely crazy?"
He looked down at him.
"We're both going to end up in the menu today if you keep this up."
Storm continued to growl.
"GRRRR!"
"Calm down, little guy."
Nolan started to walk away.
"This isn't the time." Storm glared at Irene with obvious anger.
But Nolan continued on his way.
After he had gone far enough away, he lowered his voice slightly.
"Don't worry." Storm looked up at him.
Nolan gave him a small smile.
"When I get stronger..." His expression changed.
"I'll give her a taste of her own medicine."
Storm twitched his ears slightly.
"And I'll make her eat her words."
The little creature let out a soft cry.
"Woof!" Nolan smiled.
"There. Now we're leaving." He placed Storm on his shoulder.
Then he continued on his way. Behind him, Irene watched his silhouette recede.
Her smile remained.
But her gaze had shifted slightly.
"Interesting..." she murmured.
Her black wolf growled softly.
Further on.
In a dark corner of the vast hall...
Another presence had observed the entire scene.
Matsuno Taisho.
The mysterious sorcerer remained silent.
His black hat partially concealed his face.
But his eyes hadn't left Nolan for a single second.
He had observed the exchange.
The way Nolan had immediately understood that he was no match for Irene.
And above all...
The way he had chosen to survive rather than let his pride lead him to his death.
A faint smile played at the corner of Matsuno's lips.
"Hm..." He calmly adjusted his hat.
"You're smarter than you look, Nolan."
Then he turned away.
His figure began to disappear among the many people in the tavern.
"But I wonder…" His smile widened slightly.
"How far will you go when your power is no longer enough to protect you?" Without waiting for an answer… Matsuno continued on his way.
And disappeared in turn into the depths of the mysterious Black Dog Tavern.