Lucen remained standing in the center of the bloodstained arena, his breath steady as the crowd roared his name. He hadn’t left the ring once since his first match.
’Finally, time to face the champion. I wonder if it would be the same champion as in the game, or since this is before the game starts, maybe it’s a different person. Either way, I hope that I still get that martial arts skill book upon victory.’
Lucen was confident that with his current stats, as long as there was no mana or aura involved, he should be strong enough to win.
’If the champion is that guy, it might be a little troublesome, but I have Acting Adept to compensate for my lack of technique. After fighting Korr and taking a few hits, I also know that my grit, in combination with the minor troll vitality and regeneration, means I can take quite a bit of damage, and keep going... Yeah, I can do this.’
Despite thinking all that, Lucen was a little worried. The champion in the game was someone whom the main character could defeat in the early stages, depending on the equipment you had at the time.
Still, that was in the game, and even then, the cut scene showed that despite winning, the champion held back simply because he liked Alexander.
In the flavor text, scattered across equipment descriptions and dialogue choices, were hints. Lore fragments that painted a clearer picture.
’Wears weighted bands to suppress power and speed. Blindfolded, to sharpen his other senses. Every fight is training.’
Lucen clenched his fist.
’I don’t know how strong the champion is in reality... But I remember almost all his moves. I grinded every route, played every path to completion. He always starts by testing his opponents. Land a clean hit, and he acknowledges you.’
’But this isn’t a game anymore. If he’s even slightly different from what I remember, then it might get troublesome...’ Lucen frowned, but he still got ready for whatever comes next.
The gate opened, and the person who came out was as Lucen expected it to be. The iconic blindfold, the weighted band on both wrists, and ankles.
Jet-black hair, cut short but not shaved, swayed faintly with the wind, trimmed just enough to never be grabbed in a fight.
His upper body lay bare, revealing a body sculpted by fighting. He didn’t have the body of a bodybuilder. There was no unnecessary bulk, just the kind of lean, hardened musculature that spoke of lethal efficiency.
He wore simple dark martial pants, tied at the waist with a fraying red cord, the only splash of color on him aside from his skin. His bare feet touched the arena floor like they belonged to it, solid, grounded, unshakable.
This was the champion of the arena, the one who seeks the pinnacle in martial arts, Faust Kriegerisch.
Even before Faust stepped fully into the arena, the atmosphere had already changed. It was as if the blood-soaked earth itself braced in anticipation.
"Here he comes, the champion of the arena, the undefeated, FAUST!"
When the announcer said his name, the cheers in the arena became deafening. The audience started stomping on the floor, making it feel like the arena was shaking. Dust fell from the wooden beams above. The walls groaned under the weight of thousands of cheers pressing in like a living wave.
"Try to survive for as long as possible, Lucen!"
"Don’t give up too easily!"
"Make sure to last for as long as you can!"
"Don’t lose too badly, Lucen!"
Almost everyone in the audience believes that there was no way for Lucen to win this fight. They were all simply betting on how long he would last.
The only ones who had a bet that Lucen would win were Harlik and Lucen himself. The only ones who were cheering for him were his bodyguards and Lysette Crowlorn. Her fingers curled around the armrest, interested to see what Lucen would show next.
The stomping grew louder, like drums of war. Somewhere in the noble booths, a merchant was screaming at his retainer to triple the bet on Faust. Other nobles were interested in how Lucen would fare against someone like Faust.
Sir Thalos looked at the arena with a serious expression on his face. He already knew that Faust was an incredible fighter from just the way he carries himself.
’To think such a person is staying here in the underground arena...’
Sir Thalos understood that someone like Faust wouldn’t kill the young master, so he was going to treat this as a valuable experience for Lucen.
Despite being blindfolded, using all his other senses, Faust saw better than most people. He knew the shape of the opponent’s body, he could sense his contracting muscles, and even hear his breathing.
"A teen, about twelve to fourteen. Hm, you must be quite talented, the shape of your muscles tells me what kind of training you have done. Still, it is quite confusing." Faust tilted his head to the side.
"Based on the way you carry yourself, you seem to have swung a sword more than your fist. You should be an amateur in unarmed combat. You might have a superior body to most of the arena fighters, but they have more experience than you in unarmed fighting. Hm, this is very weird, this is the first time I can’t gauge my opponent properly, how curious."
The more Faust spoke, the more Lucen felt himself sweating. All of the things Faust said were correct. The reason for his victories was mostly because of his system skills. Still, Lucen showed a confident smile as he replied.
"As expected of someone at your level. To be able to discern so much without even looking at me with your eyes."
"Young one, what you see with one sight might fool you. Even using my other senses, I can’t get a full picture of your potential."
Lucen could feel that Faust was staring at him intently behind those blindfolded eyes.
"Still, I have a rough estimate of your overall strength, and I advise you to surrender before you get hurt. I do not wish to harm such a promising, young one. Come back when you gain more experience."
Hearing Faust’s words, Lucen’s heart started beating faster, not out of fear, but out of excitement. The way Faust spoke, the presence he was emitting, another character from the game he loved had appeared before him with such grandeur.
He had already met numerous in-game characters, but Faust was one that he had seen numerous times on the screen, no matter the route, whether you win or lose, he was someone the protagonist must face.
"Seeker, do not underestimate me."
The second Lucen said those words, his demeanor changed, and Faust was quick to notice that.
Lucen’s stance drops into a semi-crouched, almost animalistic posture. Feet light. Shoulders loose. Weight shifts subtly between legs like a coiled spring.
Lucen now had a wide, cocky grin. Eyes sharpen with a hunter’s gleam. He radiated confidence, recklessness, and hidden calculation.
The noisy crowd fell silent for a beat, and they became uneasy, unsure. They didn’t know why, but they felt something primal had entered the ring.
"Hm, your stance changed, not only that, but even your breathing and subtle movements have changed. It’s like you have become a very different person... But your bone structure, your muscles, your scent, remain the same, so I’m sure you haven’t been replaced."
Faust spoke while continuing to analyze Lucen’s sudden change.
"How interesting, this is the first time I’ve met someone like you. Now you no longer feel like an amateur with a powerful body, but a seasoned unarmed fighter."
Lucen’s grin widened, not out of arrogance, but out of something deeper, a certain intense hunger.
He tilted his head to one side. Crack. Then the other. Crack. It wasn’t a threat, it was a release. Like a predator uncaging itself. His body was already humming, itching to move. His voice came low, not cocky, but amused.
"I’m getting excited, seeker. I will show you what I can do. Let’s see if my fangs can sink into your body."
Faust tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable beneath the blindfold.
"Hm... It would seem that I truly have misjudged you, young one. It seems that you have been hiding your fangs... Still, the way you’re now moving doesn’t match the training shown by your body. You truly are quite the interesting fighter, young one."
His voice was calm but with a bit of intensity. He then touched his chin, thinking.
"As expected, I did not make a mistake. Your body truly has been trained in the way of the sword. The sound your hand makes when you move it, and the way your muscles are structured, everything says so... Yet, the way you’re moving now is telling me different things. A striker with knowledge of grappling techniques. Everything about you contradicts itself... I wonder what truths lie beneath those contradictions."
Faust hadn’t taken a stance. He was simply standing there, but Lucen could already feel an intense pressure weighing down on him. Still, Lucen, whose personality was being mixed with the character he was playing, showed a vicious smile.
"Come on then, seeker! Let’s see how deep my fangs can bite!"
"Very well... Young wolf pup. Let me feel the depth of your bite."
With the two warriors squared off and tension thick in the air, the announcer no longer waited.
"No weapons! No mana! No aura! Only flesh, bone, and guts!"
"The match ends when one man taps, blacks out, or dies!"