mesbooks Chapter 924 First Battle
Chapter 924 First Battle
The black giant, also known as the senior deacon, glanced at Lin Qiye.
"He's got guts."
He turned and walked toward the stone gate.
"Keep up."
Lin Qiye followed.
The passageway is very long.
The walls were made of dark black, unidentified rubble, each piece resembling a fragment of the universe, seemingly absorbing the energy dissipating from the surroundings.
After a while, an iron gate appeared at the end of the passageway.
A cacophony of voices could be heard outside the door.
The shouts from the stands, the clanging of metal, and the roar of some kind of wild beast mingled together.
The senior deacon stopped in front of the gate.
He didn't turn around; his voice came from behind the heavy armor, deep and resonant like two pieces of metal rubbing against each other.
"Every newcomer has to fight a high-ranking butler like me."
"You won, and you'll also be a high-ranking deacon. You'll have your own private room, and you only need to fight one match a year to maintain your status. After today's match, you'll have a whole year of rest."
"If you lose, you're a low-class gladiator. You have to fight every month, and if you can't fight anymore, you die."
Lin Qiye did not respond.
He looked at the light outside the fence gate, waiting for what would happen next.
The senior deacon didn't keep him waiting too long.
"A senior deacon's salary is 10,000 gladiator coins per year. Weapons, cultivation techniques, and training resources that can be bought in the arena can all be exchanged for gladiator coins."
"But that's on the condition that you win first."
He pushed open the gate.
Light streamed in from outside.
This was the first time Lin Qiye had seen the entire arena.
Circular sand field.
The sand was dark red, the color of blood that had seeped into it over the years.
It feels sticky when you step on it, like stepping on blood that hasn't dried yet.
Several stone pillars stood around the battlefield, their surfaces covered with runes that gleamed faintly in the dim light.
The stands stretched upwards in a tiered fashion, and were filled with tens of thousands of people.
There were nobles dressed in fine clothes, and warriors in armor with swords at their sides; among them were humans and other races.
Everyone was watching him.
The senior deacon was already standing in the center of the battlefield.
He was dragging a dark red giant axe in his hand.
The axe blade gleamed coldly in the dim light.
That three-meter-tall black heavy armor, combined with that axe, made him look like an iron tower that had stepped out of the battlefield.
"bring it on."
His voice came from inside the armor, as calm as if he were talking about something very ordinary.
Lin Qiye took a deep breath and walked to the weapon rack at the edge of the battlefield.
There were five or six kinds of weapons on the shelf: iron sword, battle axe, long knife, and double hammers.
He glanced at it and picked up a long, black spear.
The gun felt cold to the touch.
He weighed it in his hand, then turned and walked into the battlefield.
The sand underfoot was soft.
The power within his body was suppressed by the density of the laws, like running while wearing a soaked cotton coat.
But he had no way out.
He charged forward with his gun raised.
The first thrust struck the senior deacon's breastplate, the spear tip colliding with the armor and sparks flying.
The armor remained completely still, while the spear shaft vibrated and hummed.
The senior deacon did not retaliate; he simply stood there and glanced down at him.
That's it?
He swung his giant axe and brought it down on his head.
Lin Qiye dodged to the side.
The axe blade grazed his shoulder, then slammed into the sand, blasting up a patch of dark red sand.
His power, enough to shatter stars in this universe, couldn't even pierce a suit of armor here.
But he didn't panic.
He began to dodge.
It's not that we don't want to fight back, it's that fighting back would be pointless.
He needs time to adapt to the fighting pace of this world.
Each strike of the giant axe carried a dull whistling sound as it grazed past his body.
He moved, turned, squatted, and rolled constantly on the battlefield, like a swallow darting through a rainstorm.
The attacks from the high-ranking deacons are becoming increasingly frequent.
Ten moves.
Twenty moves.
Fifty moves.
Eighty moves.
One hundred and seven moves.
Lin Qiye dodged them all.
But his strength was rapidly depleting. In this world, every movement felt like running through deep water.
He can't hold on much longer.
The senior deacon seemed to have noticed this as well.
He didn't slow down his attack; instead, he sped it up.
The 118th move: A giant axe slashes horizontally across the waist.
Lin Qiye couldn't dodge it.
The moment the axe wind pressed down, he knew that if he hid any longer, he would die here.
He gritted his teeth.
Two figures rushed out from both sides of his body at the same time.
It's not an afterimage.
It is a physical entity.
Two Lin Qiyes.
The same aura, the same power, the same gaze.
Three spears thrust out simultaneously.
Three spear tips simultaneously struck the senior deacon's breastplate.
Lin Qiye didn't hold back in this attack.
The combined power of the three people erupted at the same moment, causing a fine crack to appear on the surface of the black heavy armor.
The senior deacon stepped back for the first time.
His footsteps carved two deep furrows in the sand, and he retreated a full five zhang before regaining his footing.
He glanced down at the cracks in his breastplate.
Then he looked up at Lin Qiye.
For the first time, a different emotion appeared in those dark red eyes.
It's not anger.
It was an accident.
Those two clones only existed for a moment before disappearing.
Lin Qiye knelt on one knee, planted his gun in the sand to support his body, and gasped for breath.
Sweat dripped down his chin onto the dark red sand.
His body was trembling.
Like someone who has exhausted their strength.
But he silently counted in his mind, and he could still summon eight more.
He can summon ten clones at the same time.
I only used two.
The "limit" he showed was only the limit he wanted people to see.
The senior deacon did not continue the attack.
He stood there, staring at Lin Qiye for a few moments.
"good."
This was the first sentence he said today that wasn't oppressive.
"A newcomer like you is a rare find."
"That's enough."
His voice was low, but there was no resentment in it.
"You win."
The entire room fell silent for a moment.
Then a thunderous roar of cheers erupted.
Lin Qiye stood there, panting heavily.
The body was shaking.
But he wasn't trembling from exhaustion; he was controlling his breathing to make himself look exhausted.
The senior deacon took an iron plaque from his pocket and tossed it to him.
"From now on, you are also a high-ranking butler."
"serial number……"
"No one will ask you to play a second match within a year."
"The annual salary is ten thousand gladiatorial coins, which is collected from the steward's office at the beginning of each year."
Lin Qiye caught the iron plate.
The iron plaque was warm to the touch, with his number engraved on the front and a simplified diagram of the arena structure on the back.
He gripped the iron plate tightly.
He didn't speak.
The senior deacon turned and headed towards the exit.
After taking a few steps, he paused but did not turn back.
"You are the third newcomer in the last hundred years to defeat me."
he's gone.
The noise from the stands continued.
Lin Qiye stood in the center of the battlefield, feeling the suppressed power within him slowly adapting to the laws of this world.
He could sense that given time, he would be much stronger than he is today.
He glanced down at the iron plaque in his palm.
One year of freedom.
Ten thousand gladiatorial coins.
He walked out of the battlefield.
The passageway was quiet.
The torches on the wall swayed in the wind, casting flickering light on his face.
He walked around the corner.
Then I saw someone.
Kefa.