46 The colosseum starts!

Shiva stood in front of the massive Colosseum as he was getting ready to enter. The time has come for him to participate and conquer this trial, just as he had done with the previous floors. His two days leading up to this had been difficult as hell, that said, considering he had a breeze the last time he went to hell, it'd be more accurate to say it had been more difficult than hell itself for our crazy necromancer. He was out night and day, every second of the day grinding for levels. All while preparing a secret weapon to ensure his victory. Little did Shiva know that monsters whom he can't even fathom lurked beneath the surface, waiting for the necromancer's arrival.

As soon as he entered the Colosseum he heard a massive crowd gushing, murmuring, and just making an all-around racket. He then heard a loud showmanship-like voice addressing the eager crowd,

"Ladies~ and Gentlemen!! Welcome to the show of the Lower Floors, where you blood-lusting degenerates get to watch all these up-n-coming stars duke it out for your enjoyment. Will a hero rise above their peers, or will a dark horse rip the rug out from underneath the other contestants, either way, I'm still getting paid, and you guys get to watch every minute of it!" The bright smile the announcer flashed to the crowd after this shameless declaration caused the less tolerant of the crowd to yell for the demise of the announcer in a variety of colorful ways, not that he seemed to care as he carried on.

"The contest's rules are generally the same as every year, so I hate having to give you guys the same old spiel but think of it as a refresher and to educate the noobs in the crowd. As such, let's start this rant off right. Each contest consists of about 19 rounds each, which means, for an individual to win, they have to win 19 rounds successfully against their fellow participants. One defeat and the only thing you get to take home is a wounded pride and a phat *L*. Don't worry though, for the Tower is not so cruel as to let the weak fight against the strong. All the participants will be divided into two categories Group A and the lesser, but equal, Group B. Group A shall contain individuals ranked from 1 to 262144 and part B shall contain the remaining amount. The first challenge is a duel between the 1st rank and the 262144th rank, the 2nd will fight the 262143rd, so on and so forth, the same set of battles will be assigned for Group B until only 8 members remain in both groups. Once that mark has been reached then the groups will be melded together and the last four rounds will start to determine the true winner of the Colosseum. I hope everyone is clear on the rules, as I won't be repeating myself, too much of a hassle. Now that the rules are taken care of, please turn your head to the arena where we will be having ten matches simultaneously in the arena."

The announcer looked slightly out of breath, having finished his word vomit to the crowd, and took a moment to enjoy the stares of the crowd and catch his breath before continuing on to the meat of the speech, "Then let's start our first set of matches rank #1 v/s rank #262144, rank #2 v/s rank #262143, ran… "

As the announcer went down the list of the first 10 matches, loud cheering was ensued followed by nineteen people entering their respective arenas from both sides. Weirdly enough the third-ranking person hadn't come down to the arena, yet no one is mentioning it.

The announcer decided to pay special attention to the match with the rank 1, planning to give an in-depth speech on the technique used against each other to garner more hype from the crowd.

On one side was a female with mediocre looks. By mediocre, I mean she was a 3/10 she-beast from the hicks. Like hot d*mn, maybe her dad had an affair with a goat which could explain the rough patches of pedo-stache that swayed in the breeze. She holds a warped and decayed staff in one hand, it looked like she picked it up from behind an outhouse and just figured "why not" and made it her choice of weapon, to prove that theory, there were a couple of suspiciously brown stains littering one end of the staff. And on the other side of the arena entered a man so devilishly handsome, girls everywhere suffered from blood loss, even those of higher ranks that came down to watch the matches weren't immune to his looks. The females (and even some ((quite a few)) males) didn't care how he performed and were seriously considering kidnapping the rising star to warm their bed indefinitely. The contrast between the two participants was so jarring, it looked like a retelling of the D*sney story for the "Beauty and the Beast", except instead of a handsome furry man, it was she goblin waving around the "DooDoo-Staff of Doom", while the beauty was the epitome of gender envy given form. With two horns protruding from his forehead, hair darker than night itself, and lapis lazuli blue eyes which bewitched everyone that dared stare too long into them. What was odd about the "sex appeal given form" was how he entered the Colosseum with nothing but his empty hands, even though he did not appear to have the make-up of a hand-to-hand specialist (calloused hands, scars, any blemish on his body really).

The announcer took a second to recollect himself from staring at the rank 1 and quickly wipe off the drool hanging down his chin, sus, before announcing the two participants, "On one side we have the "Demon on the streets and maybe in the sheets", William, and in the other side, we have this… lady…, Genevieve the Bountiful (under his breath) yeah… right *Cough* Lets the match begin!"

"…!"

there was a flash,

"....."

The gobli...I mean the woman collapsed.

And like that, it was over in an instant. Anticlimactic as all hell, but go figure with rank 1, they are bound to be a menace to the other participants.

The woman collapsed like a sack of potatoes. How she got out, nobody (besides the those visiting from much higher floors) knows, there wasn't even time to see what happened before the referee caught the young mans' hands.

"...The Winner is rank #1 – William."

Too strong...he was just too strong; they didn't even get to see what happened and it was already over!

Unlike the people in the stadium, Shiva's face had now turned serious and looked as though he had sucked a lemon.

'What the hell was that!?'

He just saw some wind pass by the woman, nothing more than a gentle breeze, and in the next moment, she was knocked the f*ck out! Who the hell was he? What was his class? How strong he was?

{What a strong aura of Light!} The Old Pope, who had been cursing him non-stop, finally decided to speak of something other than how awful Shiva was.

{It isn't the Goddess of Light's divine "light" though, nor is it from any Gods with similar powers!} (Old Pope)

Shiva was about to ask him something when the commentator roared again,

"While that match hardly lasted 5 seconds, a problem most guys can relate to, at least the match with the rank 2 is still carrying on as intended"

A man in loose robes wielding a weird red sword clenched in hand was parrying the club strike from a brute of a man, full of corded muscles and probably steroids. His club looked as though he dug up a boulder from the ground and chipped away at it till it had a semblance of a handle, it was so bulky and unwieldy, it was a wonder he was even able to wield it. In the ogre's other hand, he held a large tower shield held in both hands. The loud cheer from the crowd ensued as the referee continued to spectate the match.

"Arhhhhhhh!" The big man seemed to be enraged, enjoying himself, and in need of a restroom all at once, only God knows why. The berserking b*stard charged right at the swordsman with his shield, a loud roar accompanying him as he went.

In response, the swordsman lightly tapped his sword.

Tang!

There was the sound of a sword parting the air and a large movement of air, and then in the next second, the swordsman with the weird sword stood behind the big guy as if he had always been there.

Tink! Shlick!

Both fighters seemingly stopped moving, as though stuck in time. This fragile moment in time collapsed as the brute's massive shield slowly slid apart and the man's body slowly followed, bisected from shoulder to hip.

Flop!

He fell to the ground in a pile of his own blood and guts. The announcer followed this up with loud yells of jubilations as he proclaimed, "The winner of this match is rank #2, Sasaki Kojiro!!!" As the crowd went mental, one person not in the crowd had a gobsmacked expression on his face.

Shiva was amazed beyond words as he saw the swordsmanship of Sasaki. As someone who has watched the skilled sword style of Kapali and even learned a part of it. He knew how much training Sasaki had to undergo to be as proficient as what his swordsmanship would lead him to believe.

{He already reached "Advanced Swordsmanship"? It's only the 10th-floor, that's some serious talent!} the Old Sage commented on the young man,

{The young surpass the old, don't they?hoho} (Old Sage)

Shiva ignored the old Sage as he was thinking of ways to win against all these monsters he was witnessing.

"Wow, folks, that was really something. With 2 matches in a row being ended fast as f*ck, hopefully, the battle between rank #3 v/s rank # 262142 can be more entertaining and have more surprises!" with that said, the crowd focused on the next match over still going on.

As this was going on, Shiva noticed a familiar set of muscles walking towards the arena as a loud cheer rang out.

'Bear?'

It was the same muscle-headed b*stard who had been chasing him like a maniac at the entrance of the 9th floor.

"Here he is. I figured he would be rank 1, but to think there were two others above him… the Tower is indeed full of surprises."

Shiva unintentionally started eavesdropping in on someone's conversation who was nearby, they were a couple of people who were watching the arena duels.

Extra 1, "Is he someone famous?"

Extra 2, "Don't tell me you don't know who he is?"

Extra 1, "Umm... nope, no idea."

Extra 2, "He is the son of Bramhalok's guild leader!"

Extra 3, "What!! Isn't he one of the three trinities?"

Extra 1, "The son of such person is participating, isn't this huge news?"

Extra 2, "Well, it's a bit complicated. While he is the kid of the Guild master, he is just an illegitimate child. It is rumored that he hasn't even had a chance to meet his father since the day he was born. It's tragic how he's still chasing after his father's recognition, even though he hasn't even met the guy."

Extra 1, "*Sigh* What a poor fate!"

'So, the bear bastard had a past like this too? I thought he was just some spoiled brat, but he was actually just a kid just trying to get the attention of his unloving parent. Now I feel like a d*ck!', Shiva lamented hearing the people gossiping.

The bear-b*stard jumped off from the ledge surrounding the edge of the arena and landed in the middle of the third arena, creating a large pit where he landed. The announcer yelled out quickly, "Match start!" right before the bear guy jumped and accelerated like a cannonball towards a person who looked like a mage holding a staff, dumbfounded, still not realizing that the match had started. The confusion and realization could be seen on his face as it quickly drained of color and his jaw proceeded to drop to the floor.

Boom!

And that was it, the mage lost consciousness and the round ended.

"Winner! Rank 3-Sanak!"

Shiva hummed at that because he already knew how strong that big b*stard (literally) was, but someone else caught his eye. A familiar face in the fourth arena,

A man in martial arts robes giving it his all in the arena, 'What was his name again?' Shiva thought while looking at the young man who had accompanied the senior he met on the 9th-floor.

(edited by JokeDagger)