Rafflesia Coliseum (1)

MSG – Volume 1 – Chapter 25

In a world where strength is one of the factors that reigns supreme, there is bound to be a lot of fighting or at the very least, power-involved-and-influenced confrontations.

Some would also just want to engage or spectate such scenes for the thrill of it.

This gave rise to something attributed to the time of the Spartans in earth's history: Colosseums.

Well, they are more aptly named stadia or gymnasia but the c-word jogs the memory of most.

In every territory, there was at least one such arena where people would gather on a periodic basis to witness people fight.

Sometimes it was to the death but in most cases that was not the case.

In either case, it always attracted crowds of spectators to fill the stands every week.

Today was Sunday, and hence there would be something going down at the Rafflesia Earldom's Stadium.

Solon booked a transport carriage to get him there for some hundreds of Quart Coins (QC).

He was not the only one on the ride, as it was a public service akin to the busses on earth, but he had no complaints.

Some people got to exchange a few words and get acquainted with each other but, for the most part it was a silent and peaceful journey.

Soon, he arrived at his destination.

At the entrance of the coliseum, one could practically smell the enthusiasm and excitement in the air.

'Hm? No, that's just the roasted meat that's always on sale at these events.' Solon recalled.

The sun beat down on people and stone alike, indiscriminate. Merchants and vendors hawked their wares; from fresh bread and olives to colorful silks and gleaming trinkets.

The closer he got to the gate, the thicker the smell of smoke and sweat slapped his nose though he paid more mind to the imposing arches of the coliseum's loom from above, adorned with intricate carvings and frescoes of that tell the stories of the past gladiators.

The hum of conversation, distant drums, and clanging of swords, also reached him.

Eventually, the carriage slowed to a stop as it would not be allowed to pass through the gates.

Stepping off, he tossed the driver the second half of the fare, like everyone else did, before turning to pay the entry fee to the guards in exchange for an entry token that would only allow him entry into the coliseum for the day.

If he wanted one that would do more than that, then he would have to pay for a membership token; making himself a VIP, VVIP, or something more., depending on how much was forked over by him and if he met certain requirements set by the organizers.

As he stepped through the gate, the sounds of weapons clashing and drums' beating grew louder.

The energy inside the stadium itself was downright… electric.

It was clear that the crowd was eager for the spectacles to come.

He made his way towards one of the regular seats and made himself comfortable.

"Uh, sorry…" someone started to speak.

He turned to his left to see a green-haired and blue-eyed boy, who appeared to be fifteen or sixteen, speaking to him.

"…my friend's seating there."

The boy seemed to have hyper arched eyebrows, seeing as his brows stayed up irrespective of how much his facial muscles moved.

Solon merely noted this fact in his mind before sliding over to the next seat.

"Thank you." The boy said and Solon shot back with a casual "No problem."

It did not take long for someone else to walk over to the boy.

She appeared to be around the same age as the boy, having auburn hair and dark brown eyes.

Solon noticed that the boy had pointed at the seat, showing that she was just arriving and he had kept a seat for her, but he did not feel offended by it.

He could understand why the boy did that.

'Goodluck kid,' he thought.

His gaze was soon drawn to the center of the stadium, where four figures stood, with one being about a meter detached from the other three.

"Welcome all!" The man suddenly started to speak, his voice garnering the attention of all as it seemed to be amplified throughout the place by something he was holding in his right hand which appeared to be in the shape of a cylinder.

It was a magic tool that Solon had come to learn was called a 'Boomer'.

Don't ask me how they came up with that name…

It was poor taste for those on earth but made perfect sense to them.

"Welcome to another great day of blood, mana, and iron! The weather has been gracious with us, and with that I hope that everyone enjoys the show!"

Many cheered in agreement.

"For the opening match today, we have a duel of pure fists, grit, and kicks—a Brawl." The announcer continued. "As contest of pure strength and no magic!"

The cheer only intensified, no one bothering to hide their eagerness.

"For the first combatants to entertain us today we have a crowd favorite—" turning his attention, gesturing at a certain gate in the stadium which was being opened up. "—the man that loves blood more than he does air, the Blood Seeker!"

Now the cheers had turned into screeches to some extent, as they watched a figure step through the gate.

He stood at a height of 6 feet and 4 inches, having almond-colored skin as well as sunken hazel eyes.

He had scars all over his body and a cleft lip that somehow managed to make him look menacing rather than pitiable.

His head was barren of any hair whatsoever, giving room for red tattoo of rivers (possibly of blood) on his head that one could also mistake for a depiction of veins at first glance.

He was dressed in minimal clothing, leaving most of his skin bare except from the armor plates on his chests and shoulders.

Fierce.

This word would easily describe him as their eyes landed on the huge mace that he was dragging through the sand behind him.

"Roar!!!" He yelled, raising his mace as he turned around in circles as a form of showmanship.

Of course, the crowd responded…