Arena

Arena battles were extremely popular in the human world, with nobles and commoners alike enjoying the spectacle. Almost every human kingdom, when hosting foreign guests, considered watching arena battles or operas as one of the most grand receptions. In Paddington, there were several arenas, but the largest and best was undoubtedly the "Lions and Axes" arena. Both in terms of the grandeur of the arena and the quality of the gladiators, it surpassed any other arena.

Dozens of orcs with silver fur all over their bodies were almost naked, only covering themselves with a piece of beast hide around their waist. They wielded wooden short swords and shields, engaging in fierce combat. Gladiator trainers, armed with whips, walked around them with grim faces, cursing and whipping any orc who moved slowly or lost focus.

"A bunch of trash, can't you even feed yourselves properly? With such good looks, you can only be used to entertain those ** women... Even the dirtiest maggots in the sewers are better than you!" A muscular human man, shirtless and scarred all over his face and body, was very dissatisfied with the orcs before him. If he could, he would have killed a few just to vent his frustration.

The Prince of the Audria Empire was coming to Paddington to watch the arena performance, which was a big deal. As the most senior and renowned gladiator trainer of the "Lions and Axes" arena, Celt saw this as a great opportunity. If he performed well and impressed the noble prince, he might even be taken to the Audria Empire, the prosperous center of the human world, where there were even more powerful gladiators. After all, Paddington was somewhat remote.

Celt was a free man. In his youth, he entered the arena because he enjoyed the brutal combat and killing. Such people were rare, but those who could persist were all dominant figures in the arena, demons in the eyes of their enemies, darlings of the audience, and the best objects of sexual fantasies for noblewomen. Celt was such a figure, even though he was almost sixty years old, his muscular body still showed no signs of slackening. Even though he rarely fought in the arena these days, whenever he showed up, he would still elicit frenzied screams from a group of women!

Arena battles on the Soren continent had clear rules: no qi, no magic, no extraordinary powers allowed. Weapons could be used, but gladiators could only rely on primitive ** combat. This rule kept most so-called strong individuals out. Without qi or magic, knights or mages faced with gladiators had only death. And sometimes, qi and magic would burst out uncontrollably like instincts, so to maintain fairness, all gladiators were people who couldn't cultivate qi. Even if someone had awakened innate abilities through long-term training, they couldn't cultivate qi. The arena's owners would use a dagger to pierce your abdomen, dispersing the nascent qi, completely severing your aspirations.

Celt was extremely unusual; in his youth, he had good talent and could cultivate qi, but he had stabbed himself in the abdomen, destroying the nascent qi that had just formed. Such a person was ruthless even to himself, let alone others; in his eyes, all life was just a toy!

In order to welcome the Prince of the Audria Empire, Celt trained a team of gladiators very seriously. He believed that as long as the gladiators he trained took the stage, they would definitely create a bloody, violent, and exhilarating performance. But the weaklings before him now, who hardly looked like orcs, shattered his plans.

The imperial envoy had come across this group of orcs by chance and was pleasantly surprised, thinking they were Frostwolf Orcs from the Northern Tundra. Everyone knew that the Audria Empire was the most cruel human nation towards orcs. All orc prisoners captured in battle would eventually be thrown into the arena to fight fierce and powerful beasts for entertainment. There were rarely any survivors. This made orcs extremely resentful of this country, but unfortunately, Audria was too powerful, and scattered orc tribes couldn't resist. Eventually, some ancient and noble orc clans had to migrate to the distant Northern Tundra to escape human hunting. It was difficult to see pure-blooded orc descendants with noble lineage in the Audria Empire's arena!

Duke Delta did not conceal the origins of these orcs, which resembled Frostwolf Orcs, but the envoy wouldn't let go of this opportunity to please the prince. He insisted that these orcs were Frostwolf Orc prisoners and hoped to see them give a perfect performance in the arena!

Duke Delta immediately understood the envoy's intentions, and it was a good thing for him too. He handed this matter over to the gladiator trainer Celt. This was the source of Celt's anger! The Prince of the Audria Empire was coming next month, but these orcs hadn't trained to a satisfactory level yet. If such specimens were to enter the arena, Celt vowed he would be ashamed!

Dozens of orcs were gathered together, and Celt, with a grim face, didn't say a word. Whoever his fiery gaze fell upon, that person would immediately lower their head, trembling. This human's gaze was like that of a predator!

"It seems I was wrong. You are naturally a lowly race. Even if you train for ten years, you can't become real gladiators. Since that's the case, there's nothing to be concerned about." Celt turned around and shouted, "Duke, open the beast cages. Drive these damn orcs into them to keep company with the lions!"

The orcs screamed in fear, but they were driven forward by the fully armed arena guards with spears. From the left side of the arena came a creaking sound as a metal gate slowly opened, faintly emitting the growls of beasts.

Everyone quickly evacuated the arena and moved to the stands above, leaving only these dozens of orcs inside. Several huge figures slowly emerged from the iron cages, and upon seeing the orcs in front of them, their eyes immediately revealed a fierce light!

Wooden shields and swords seemed so fragile, and the orcs kept retreating, huddling together in panic. One, two, three... six massive male lions stepped out slowly. These were the grassland lions that the arena had purchased at a high price. Although not magical beasts, they were almost the most powerful beings among beasts. Even low-level magical beasts would only have the option to flee in front of a grassland lion.

In the past, when humans and beasts battled, it was usually more than ten fully armed gladiators against one grassland lion. But today, Celt was furious and had actually released all six lions in the arena. Didn't he want these orcs to survive?

Some people worriedly reminded Celt that, after all, these orcs, no matter how inferior, were better off alive. Moreover, they were designated by the imperial envoy. If something went wrong, it would be difficult to explain to the arena owner, Seth, or to Duke Delta, their master behind the scenes.

"It's fine. These orcs won't show their true ferocity without bloodshed. Some people have to die first to provoke their beastliness." Celt said grimly. "Instead of training a hundred incompetent orcs, it's better to let them fight lions. Even if only ten orcs are left in the end, as long as their beastliness is triggered, they can still provide an exciting performance in the future."

Everything in the arena, except for the butcher Seth, was under Celt's command. If he insisted on doing this, no one could say anything. And, it wasn't bad to watch a free show of orcs battling lions!

The six lions had all stepped out of the iron cages, swaying their huge heads and shaking their mane like waves. The imposing aura of the kings of beasts was overwhelming! They didn't seem to be in a hurry, just circling the orcs and emitting low growls, as if choosing which one to attack first!

"Everyone, get close together. The young ones inside, the old ones outside. Hold your shields tight. When the lions pounce, if one person is dragged out, the others immediately fill the gap. May the spirits of our ancestors bless our children to survive!" The oldest orc stood at the outermost circle, holding two wooden shields to block the closest lion. The wooden sword was like an itch for the lion, and it had already been thrown aside!

Seemingly aware of the vast power gap, one lion, in a playful manner, pounced forward, pinning the old orc to the ground. The two wooden shields were torn to shreds like paper, and the sharp claws pierced through the wooden shields, deeply into the old orc's shoulder. The old orc let out a miserable scream and passed out.

"Block the gap, protect the children." Another old orc stepped forward, blocking the lion in front of him. They were old... or about to become old, but the young orcs protected inside still had hope of living a free life. For the continuation of the tribe, even if it was just a tiny fantasy, it was worth it for the orcs to do so.

"No... Uncle Cecil, let me out..." a young orc shouted loudly among the orcs, trying to break through the protective circle of his clan. Since the destruction of the tribe, the youth had been injured and became a captive of human mercenaries. If it weren't for Cecil, the orc who took care of him all the way, he would probably have been cruelly killed like those unfortunate tribesmen because of his slow pace.

"Barotan, take care of yourself." The old orc saw the terrified face of the somewhat brave but not lacking in courage youth across the protective circle. Anyway, after the tribe was destroyed and his family died, he lost the purpose of survival. Today, let's reunite with his family! He shouted loudly and rushed towards the lion with a shield raised.

Just as the lion was about to bite the orc under its paw, a sudden force struck, causing its massive body to tumble uncontrollably. It quickly got up after rolling for a bit, only to see a young orc supporting an old orc, retreating!

Provoked by the challenge to its authority, the lion roared angrily. It seemed to be the king of these lions, giving a command, and the six lions simultaneously pounced towards the orcs. The outer layer of wooden shields shattered, and the huddled orcs were scattered by the tremendous impact of the lions. It was over. All the orcs closed their eyes, waiting for the moment when they would be torn apart by the lions' jaws!

Suddenly, a shout came from not far from the stands: "Damn it, who released the lions?"

And from the opposite direction, a figure shot out like a meteor, flipping over the fence and directly entering the arena. Instantly, a wail of agonized beasts rang out...!