“Get out of my way!”
The bloody jagged teeth were suddenly replaced by a massive shadow. A broad back appeared before the girl without warning, like an unbreakable iron wall, shielding her behind it.
Nine out of ten would think selfishly, hoping others would be eaten by the man-eater first. Only the tenth would cast life and death aside, unafraid of fate; the conviction he upheld became the source of his power.
His name was Tab Dorgas. He was the strongest bronze-ranked gladiator in the Arena!
A flash of silver smashed into the man-eater’s cheek, knocking its head askew—this was only the first strike.
“Oooohhhh!!”
Tab roared, his fists raining down in a storm of blows. His relentless attacks landed over and over on the man-eater’s face, forcing it backward. At last, a powerful uppercut marked the finale, smashing hard into the monster’s jaw. Already off balance, the huge body could no longer stand firm. It was sent flying, tracing an arc through the air, crashing heavily onto the stone-paved ground, dragging out a long trench and erupting into tremendous crashing noise.
When the dust cleared, everyone saw the man-eater sprawled motionless, head drooping to the ground. Blood dripped slowly from its face, bead after bead, and aside from that, there was no movement. It seemed Tab’s fists had beaten it to death.
“Hey, hey! You ugly beast! Get up and kill him already!”
“Outrageous! The princes are still watching!”
“What is this! How can the lowborn be allowed to gloat!”
The nobles in the audience could scarcely believe their eyes. Whether it was a gladiator daring to rebel, or a golden-ranked man-eater being beaten to death by a bronze-ranked gladiator, both were impossible events.
It was one thing if a foolhardy gladiator was killed, but for bronze to defeat gold, for mere flesh and blood to overcome iron and bone—how absurd! The value of gold was a thousand, ten thousand times that of bronze!
As the frantic shouts of the nobles rang in her ears, the girl snapped back to her senses. Hope reignited in her eyes. Overflowing with the joy of surviving calamity, she wanted to run behind Tab and hug him tight, to thank him for killing the man-eater and saving all the surviving gladiators. Even though he was infamous for the crime of lewd murder, she no longer cared at all.
“Don’t come over!”
Tab suddenly shouted loudly. The girl froze mid-step, and the other surviving gladiators also stopped short, stunned where they stood. Master Luo watched him and seemed to understand something, his face turning deathly pale.
“That thing… is tough.”
Tab took a deep breath, then exhaled long and slow. His left fist turned into a knife hand and blocked diagonally before him. His right fist was drawn back at his waist. He spread his stance, bent his knees, and lowered his body, shifting his weight to keep himself ready to explode into combat at any moment.
Beads of blood formed in the cracks of his skin, slid over his knuckles, and dripped onto the dry floor, merging into the dust.
Lionkin Bladeshade saw that Tab’s fist was a bloody mess, not a patch of skin left unbroken—his hands were covered in split wounds. Knowing Tab’s strength inside out, he was deeply shocked.
Tab was Bronze Fourth Tier, just a step from Silver. He’d mastered two Hall-level incomplete martial arts: Iron Body and Swift Step.
Martial arts were skills warriors activated by expending battle aura. Ranked from lowest to highest, they were Hall-level, War-level, Epic-level, Legend-level, and Divine-level. Martial arts were rare and hard to master; a Hall-level art could serve as an ancient family’s inheritance, while even a lifetime might not yield full understanding of an Epic-level technique.
As a result, incomplete martial arts became common among warriors. An incomplete technique was an excerpted version, lowering both its value and difficulty. They were sold on black markets in every country, prices ranging from hundreds to thousands of gold coins.
For a bronze-rank warrior, mastering even one incomplete martial art was a great boon—it gave them a nearly unbeatable edge over others of the same rank who relied only on aura to strengthen the body.
Tab was a mighty bronze-rank. He had mastered two incomplete martial arts. Iron Body let him harden parts of his body—he used it on his fists, earning him the title Iron Fist. Swift Step allowed his mountain-like bulk to explode with astonishing speed in short bursts, so any foe trying to flee would be caught and punished by his iron fists.
Tab could steel his entire arm; the effect extended up to his shoulder, a sign he’d reached proficiency in Iron Body.
The mastery of martial arts was also divided into ranks: Novice, Adept, Proficient, Master, and Grandmaster. The higher the level, the stronger the technique. Take Iron Body: if Tab reached Grandmaster, he could harden his entire body, as if possessing the iron bones and sinews of a golden-ranked monster. But he’d likely never have the chance; incomplete arts could only be trained to proficiency. To reach Grandmaster, one needed the original, but complete Hall-level arts were the collectibles of nobles.
Tab was born to be strong. Though he had a frightening appearance, his comprehension and talent were exceptional. He also possessed great power—before becoming Captain of the Royal Guard, he’d been the star wrestler of a gladiator arena. If not for being framed and cursed as a murderous degenerate, losing both his face and his life, he’d surely have reached the Silver rank by now.
Maybe someone, jealous of Tab’s talent, had set him up, ruined his face, and destroyed his life. But such thoughts were useless now; Lionkin Bladeshade was more concerned about Tab’s physical condition.
To be honest, it was terrible—if his fists bled so heavily even after using Iron Body, just how tough was the man-eater’s skin? In the end, the hardening of martial arts still couldn’t match real iron bones and sinews.
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