Chapter 165

Chapter 165: Arena Challenge

"Sir, the arena isn’t open today. What business brings you here?" A White Dove Arena guard disciple stepped forward warily as Midi approached.

The surrounding crowd turned their gazes toward the young man. Midi hadn’t planned any stealthy ambush for this challenge – he’d openly publicized it across Faero Bay until every arena practitioner knew of his intentions.

Though Union officials dismissed his capabilities, the arena leaders took no chances. Yet this White Dove disciple couldn’t believe the black-haired youth before him was Lionheart’s infamous elder. Challengers always arrived with entourages to intimidate, not stroll in alone like casual visitors!

"Please inform your host," Midi said casually, shattering the disciple’s assumptions, "Lionheart Arena challenges White Dove. Tell them to prepare." Seeing stunned disbelief, he added: "And hurry. Eight more arenas await."

The provocation ignited White Dove Arena. For two centuries, this institution had honed masters of White Dove Swordsmanship, producing multiple peak-level Demon Swordmen. Even city council members showed respect here. Yet this sub-level-45 upstart dared challenge them?

The arena host abandoned caution. Instead of testing this mysterious opponent, he dispatched their supreme expert – a level 48 sword soul.

Twenty minutes later, Midi exited calmly. His sword flashed once. The centuries-old plaque above White Dove’s entrance split cleanly, crashing down in two pieces.

"By Faero Bay’s rules," Midi declared, hand resting on his sword hilt, "defeated arenas close for a month. Starting now." He boarded his carriage without glancing back.

The ashen-faced host swallowed protests, watching the carriage depart. Outside, pro-Lionheart spectators erupted in chaos. They’d come to support the thirty-year-old underdog against the sixteen-arena Union, expecting modest victories at best.

None predicted this. Twenty minutes total – five minutes walking through White Dove’s elaborate courtyards, five returning. Subtract formalities… How long had the actual fight lasted?

A single term spread through the crowd: Instant kill.

Inside, White Dove’s level 48 swordsman knelt clutching his shattered longsword – the blade that had served him twenty years. His body burned from residual energy. Not anger, nor hatred filled him as he relived Midi’s earthshaking strike. Only absolute shock remained.

In this world, could there truly exist such a divine sword?

The Demon Swordman couldn’t help but wonder.

Leaving the trampled White Dove Arena behind, the plain black carriage rattled onward with Midi to his next destination.

The second arena closed within twenty minutes of his arrival.

Then came the third…

Followed by the fourth…

One after another, these renowned Arenas with glorious histories collapsed like paper models beneath Midi’s blade. They fell without meaningful resistance, leaving only their signless gates wailing in the cold wind.

But when Midi reached the fifth Arena, his unstoppable momentum finally met resistance.

This was Red Lotus Arena, home to Ghost Cry specialists among Demon Swordmen.

Ghost Cry’s signature move involved demon arrays – magic formations conjured through the power of the demon god in their left arms. These arrays varied by the number and nature of their bound demon gods, categorized as attack, defense, support, or interference types.

Most Demon Swordmen favored offense, living by the creed "sword and soul as one." Ghost Cry practitioners typically mastered destructive arrays like Plague or Nether Flame. Advanced users might learn interference arrays like Ice Binding or Shadow to enhance their killing formations.

But Red Lotus Arena’s Ghost Cry defied convention. They specialized in support arrays, progressing to defense arrays at higher levels – completely abandoning offense and interference.

Though lacking personal combat strength, they became invaluable team assets. Maritime families’ troops, Arena disciples, adventurer teams, and mercenary corps all revered them. A support-specialized Ghost Cry could dramatically boost team power. Those skilled in defense arrays could maintain formations under pressure, enabling comebacks in desperate situations.

Born for team battles, Red Lotus Arena had maintained its status in competitive Faero Bay through group combat excellence. Their leaders had consistently served as vice-presidents of the Faero Bay Arena Union. Had they desired presidency, supporters would have swarmed to their call. Yet their tradition of humility kept them from claiming the top position.

Having crushed four Great Arenas and shattered their signs, Midi now faced this unique opponent – or rather, the coalition this cunning host had assembled.

"Elder Faye’s swordsmanship astonishes me," smiled the opulently dressed host, his tone conversational as if addressing an old friend rather than the man who’d humiliated Faero Bay’s Arenas. "Four Arenas fallen in three hours, with mere travel time between? Remarkable."

Midi scanned the Arena and understood. "You deserve credit too," he acknowledged sincerely. "Rather than waiting like blinkered fools, you adapted. I’ll revise my assessment upward."

The benevolent-looking host had gathered all four defeated Arena leaders with their experts and disciples. The packed Arena buzzed with overwhelming presence.

Other Arenas couldn’t attempt this – calling allies during a challenge meant automatic defeat. But Red Lotus Arena enjoyed special privilege. Everyone knew their disciples couldn’t fight alone. They could partner with external champions, creating two-versus-one matches.

This was the privilege of support specialists, earned through generations of goodwill.

Midi’s gaze swept across the assembled experts. So they planned to wear him down through numbers? The strategy became clear.