The colosseum erupted into chaos.
Screams, cheers, and furious stomping shook the stone stands.
"Start already!" someone shouted.
"Show us some blood!" another voice howled.
Akeno turned toward Kinuko, one brow lifting. "These people are insane."
Before Kinuko could reply, a booming voice thundered over the arena.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The roar of the crowd swelled instantly.
"Welcome to the main event! The tournament you've all been waiting for—has finally begun!"
The commentator grinned wide, drinking in the madness as the noise battered the walls.
"One hundred competitors stand ready to tear each other apart! And to thin the herd—"
he paused, letting the tension stretch,
"—we start with an all-out battle royal!"
The stands exploded.
Chants echoed wildly as fists slammed against stone.
The commentator raised a hand, silencing nothing, yet commanding everything.
"Here's how it works! All one hundred fighters enter the arena at once. Get knocked out of the ring—"
his smile sharpened,
"—and you're finished."
"The number of survivors will decide the brackets for the next rounds."
A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.
"And remember, ladies and gentlemen…"
He leaned forward.
"The only rule is—there are no rules!"
Maniacal laughter rang through the colosseum, feeding the crowd's bloodlust.
Moments later, a staff member stepped forward, his voice cutting cleanly through the noise.
"Competitors, listen up."
The room slowly settled.
"This tournament has no second place. Only one of you will walk away victorious."
His gaze swept across the fighters, lingering on clenched fists and hardened expressions.
"You'll enter the arena in groups of twenty. When the gates open, move out."
A pause.
"No further instructions are necessary."
As if summoned by his words, the gates groaned open with a metallic screech.
The first group of twenty stepped forward, eyes locked on the arena ahead.
The staff member gave a short nod to himself.
"Good," he muttered.
"That should be enough."
The commentator's voice thundered across the arena.
"And here comes our first group of competitors!"
The gates burst open, and twenty fighters poured into the arena.
The crowd exploded into cheers as boots struck stone and weapons clinked at their sides.
The commentator leaned closer to his mic, voice dropping with intrigue.
"Word is, we've got some serious heavy hitters joining today's carnage."
He squinted toward the ring. "Wait a second… is that Jaxon 'Jester' Jenkins? The B-rank ace from the Stellaluna Circle Guild?"
The stands erupted.
"JAX-ON! JAX-ON!"
"What's a big-name like him doing in a tournament like this?" the commentator laughed.
Then his tone spiked sharply.
"And hold on—no way. Folks, tell me I'm seeing this right! Drew 'Daredevil' Davis—A-rank superstar from the same guild?!"
The colosseum descended into pandemonium. Spectators surged to their feet, roaring as the two guildmates stepped into the ring.
"Two legends. One arena," the commentator shouted.
"This just got real, folks!"
He grinned wide. "We promised chaos—and boy are we delivering!"
The gates groaned open again.
"And now, give it up for our second group of competitors!"
Cheers rolled through the stands—then stalled.
The commentator froze.
"H-Hold on. I wasn't ready for another monster to drop…"
His voice cracked.
"B-Beckett 'Brawler' Brooks?!"
He threw up a hand dramatically, shielding one eye. "The crowd is LOSING it! What's a bounty hunter of this caliber doing here?"
His voice lowered to a hushed murmur.
"This guy changes the entire board. I'm calling it now—put all my money on him."
One group after another entered, the tension stacking higher with each arrival.
Finally—
"Ladies and gentlemen," the commentator announced, "put your hands together for our final group of competitors!"
The gates opened.
Nineteen fighters stepped out.
The commentator blinked. "…Wait."
His excitement faltered.
"Nineteen? We're missing one."
He leaned toward a staff member, whispering urgently.
Before an answer came—
Footsteps echoed.
Slow. Measured.
A single figure emerged from the gate.
Hands tucked casually into his pockets. Head held high.
Unhurried.
The air shifted.
Veteran adventurers stiffened instantly. Weapons were half-drawn. Fear flickered across hardened faces as a crushing pressure washed over the ring.
Brooks's breath caught. "What… is this?
His Nexus—no, this isn't normal. The floor's cracking beneath him.
There's no way he's human."
Davis swallowed hard. "A monster like this? I need to stay far away… or I won't make it out alive."
The moment he stepped into the ring, the crowd fell silent.
Not a cheer. Not a whisper.
Just dread.
The commentator frowned, unease crawling up his spine.
"Who… is that?"
A staff member leaned in, voice barely audible.
"When asked his name, sir… he said—"
"…Nobody."
The commentator's eyes widened.
"Nobody?" he muttered. "What kind of name is that…?"
For the first time, his confidence wavered.
All eyes followed the lone fighter as he strode forward.
He scanned the arena once—then his gaze locked onto the commentator.
The man felt a chill run straight through him.
Boros spoke, his voice calm, sharp, and impatient.
"What's the holdup?"
A pause.
"Let's get this started."
"W-With all fighters now in the ring," the commentator stammered, "l-let's get this battle royal underway!"
The gates slammed shut.
Chaos detonated.
Steel clashed. Bodies collided. Fighters were hurled screaming from the ring as the scramble for the Longinus began.
Even active Longinus users joined the slaughter—earth shattered stone, vines tore across the floor, crystal constructs exploded on impact as power met power in rapid succession.
"This is insanity!" the commentator shouted over the roar.
"The action doesn't stop—Jaxon 'Jester' Jenkins is tearing through opponents like paper!"
In the midst of the carnage—
Boros sat.
At the edge of the ring. Back turned. Eyes calmly scanning the stands.
Jaxon and Davis fought in perfect sync nearby, exchanging sharp nods with other Longinus users as realization spread among them.
Brooks leaned in, voice low and urgent. "He's not even looking at us… If we don't act together, we're finished. You all felt his Nexus earlier. If he stays—none of us win."
Silent agreement.
They moved as one.
"You think turning your back on us is smart?" someone snarled.
"Plant Whip!"
"Terragrim!"
"Crystal Crush!"
Abilities roared to life as they charged.
Boros, still seated, flashed a sinister smile.
With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a devastating attack: "Ice Age."
The world vanished into white.
A violent surge of frost detonated outward, swallowing the ring in a blinding cloud of ice and dust.
"What the—?!" the commentator shouted. "Did you SEE that?!"
The arena erupted into screams.
Then—silence.
The dust settled.
The crowd froze.
The entire ring was encased in ice.
Bodies lay scattered, frozen mid-fall, expressions locked in terror.
The commentator's voice trembled. "Unbelievable… the whole ring—frozen solid…"
A beat.
"E-Except for four!"
"Beckett 'Brawler' Brooks! Drew 'Daredevil' Davis! Jaxon 'Jester' Jenkins! And the mystery fighter—still standing!"
The cheers returned—louder than before.
Then—
Jaxon staggered back.
His arm fell.
Severed clean at the shoulder.
Blood sprayed across the ice.
"What the—?!" the commentator choked.
"How—when did that—?!"
Kinuko's hands flew to her mouth. "…Akeno. Are you seeing this?"
Akeno didn't blink. "Yeah. And he's not even serious."
Kinuko swallowed. "How can you tell?"
"Look at him," Akeno murmured. "No expression. No strain. And aside from the initial freeze, he hasn't used his Longinus in this fight."
Kinuko's voice dropped. "…You're right. He doesn't look like he's fighting at all."
Boros and Brooks collided.
Their blows cracked the frozen floor, shockwaves rippling through the colosseum.
Jaxon collapsed nearby, clutching the stump of his arm, breath shaking.
"You… seeing this, Davis?"
Davis nodded, eyes locked on Boros. "Yeah. No way this guy's just A-rank."
Jaxon laughed weakly, staring at his ruined arm. "A-rank? Look at me. He's way past that… S-rank. At least."
Davis grinned, feral. "Then I'll stop holding back."
"Time to join the party."
He launched himself forward with a roar.
Davis and Brooks assaulted Boros together—fists, knees, elbows in relentless succession.
None landed.
Boros deflected every strike with lazy precision.
A kick came flying—
Boros sidestepped, caught Davis's leg mid-air.
And flicked.
Davis vanished from the ring.
He slammed into the colosseum wall with a thunderous crash.
"DREW 'DAREDEVIL' DAVIS HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!" the commentator roared.
The crowd went wild.
Only Brooks remained.
They stared each other down.
Then collided.
A brutal exchange—fists blurring, stone shattering beneath them.
Brooks faltered.
"H-How…?" he gasped. "He's not even tired… I—I can't—"
"I yield," Brooks croaked. "You win—"
Boros's response was mercilessly pummeling Beckett's unconscious body with a relentless barrage of blows.
The bounty hunter crumpled at his feet, unconscious and broken.
Boros exhaled slowly.
"…Finally."
He turned to leave the ring—
"AAAAHHH!"
A scream cut through the arena.
Boros stopped.
"Fight me!"
The shout echoed from behind.
Boros stopped.
Then he smiled.
A slow, crooked grin spread across his face as he turned, eyes glinting with something unhinged.
"…Huh," he murmured, voice sinking lower.
"For a second, I thought that was Beckett."
His gaze settled on the man standing behind him.
"But no… just some nobody."
"Fight me!" the man shouted again, veins bulging at his neck.
Boros began walking toward him—unhurried, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
"There's no need to yell," he said flatly.
"I'm right here."
He stopped inches away.
"And honestly?" Boros tilted his head, eyes cold.
"You're not worth it. You're weak."
His hand lifted, hovering just before the man's face. His grin widened—sharp, predatory.
"And that's saying something,"
Boros whispered,
"because I usually enjoy killing people weaker than me."
The man froze.
Boros straightened, interest already gone.
"I'm tired of this," he muttered.
"These games are pointless."
He turned his back.
"Akeno. Kinuko. Let's go," he called out.
"This was a bust. He's not here."
From the stands, both girls leapt down.
"Okay!" they said together.
Akeno jogged up beside him, grinning. "Shiro, you were insane out there!"
Behind them—
"You're just going to walk away?!" the man roared.
Boros didn't slow.
"This is your fault!" the man shouted, watching Boros's back retreat.
"All of it!"
Still no response.
The man's hands trembled as fury finally boiled over.
"I survived everything in that ring," he snarled.
"And you won't even acknowledge me?"
His voice cracked.
"I know I'm weak—I don't need you to tell me that!"
Boros kept walking.
The man clenched his fists till the point it bled blood.
"My name is Kaito Minamoto!" he screamed.
"And I swear—I'll make you remember it!"
Silence.
"…You'll pay for this," Kaito growled.
"Bastard."