Star Forge Titan

The configuration power of this school is somewhat similar to Bloodlust or Barbarian Berserk. Alvin recorded the core configuration of this small school at a glance and made the above judgment at the same time.

"What Iron Body School? It's a small school that I've never heard of." The bald contestant holding a large shield and spear spat in disdain.

"Hmph, then what school are you from?" Another contestant suppressed his anger and asked with a cold snort?

"I'm afraid you'll be scared if I tell you."

The bald man placed the large shield in his hand on the ground and pointed his thumb at himself proudly.

"I'm a boxer from Lan Dou!"

"What?" Now, even Brad and Ivan in the stands showed surprised expressions.

"Randou Flower and Bird Style, Great Shield - Pachim!"

After saying this, the man who called himself Great Shield Pachim put his hands together, pointing his index and middle fingers to the sky, forming an unfamiliar fist formation.

This immediately perked up his opponent. After all, that was Lan Dou! He was a master of many styles of boxing, with a reputation that resounded throughout the desert.

As the magic power flowed, the so-called Randou Flower and Bird Flow configuration power was activated, and a stream of water, about the thickness of a finger, spurted upwards from the gaps between his raised fingers.

Suddenly, the entire arena fell into an eerie silence, with only the sound of water gurgling like a child peeing...

The next second, laughter erupted and soared into the sky.

Hahahahahahahahahaha~

Chapter 55: Technical Defeat

"Really all kinds of people are here."

Brad raised his hand to support his forehead helplessly. The roar of laughter coming from the people around him made him want to jump down and punch the bald guy who looked more like a comedian than a boxer to death.

While the numerous offshoots of Lan Dou Sheng Quan had certainly spawned numerous excellent and powerful new schools, they had also attracted numerous unskilled individuals. Most of them wore the Lan Dou prefix, but employed a variety of haphazard and bizarre techniques that barely even remotely resembled boxing techniques.

Apart from the prefix, it has nothing to do with Randou.

"That's not the case. At least that guy really made water appear." Alvin shrugged and looked at the scene on the stage with a strange expression.

"Oh, don't be so naive. Who knows if it's the power of configuration that drives the use of 'qi', or if he secretly hides some ingenious magic props on his body." Brad shook his head. His career as a fist fighter traveling all over the country to liberate enslaved people made him more knowledgeable than most desert dwellers.

Of course, I have seen tricks like making water appear from my hands countless times.

Not to mention water, he had also seen people produce sand dates and even gold sand from their hands, and even living pigeons.

But if you just grab those guys by the collars and shake them upside down a few times, you will find that it cannot be said that all of them are liars, but that each of them is a magician.

"Really?" Ivan slowed down his voice, and the dark golden light in the depths of his pupils became brighter.

He could see that the contestant who called himself Pachim was faintly emitting magical fluctuations similar to those when a boxing formation was activated.

Although the fluctuation was very weak and not very orderly, and a bit like the unfamiliarity of a beginner who was randomly relying on luck and probability, it was indeed a fluctuation of magic power.

“This game is really interesting.”

The tall, dark-haired boy sat cross-legged on his seat, his slightly naturally curly black hair draped along his powerful back. His left hand rested on his strong chin with interest, and his words revealed a profound double meaning.

While the two senior brothers were chatting, the contestants on the stage also came back to their senses from their shock.

"Hahaha, no wonder you kept giving yourself plenty of water before going on stage, you were planning on playing this. I suggest that after you lose, you go perform on the streets a few more times, maybe you can make some money that way, hahahahahahaha!"

The boxer who called himself Iron Block-Elok laughed so hard that his movements became distorted, and his words caused the audience in the stands to burst into laughter again.

For a moment, almost everyone was immersed in the joyful atmosphere.

However, Pachim, who was laughed at by so many people, was not angry at all. Instead, he showed a strange expression.

That expression looked like someone was trying hard to hold back laughter but was about to give up, which was very strange.

"good chance!"

The bald Pachim shouted. This man's attack method was as unique as his boxing. He didn't rush over to punch the opponent hard, nor did he use the length of the weapon in his hand to take advantage.

Pachim threw away the large shield that looked very heavy, and the spear on the other side was casually stuck at his feet. Only his clasped hands were suddenly pointed at the laughing iron block - Elok, and a thin stream of water burst out again from between his index and middle fingers stretched forward.

Although this mini fountain was small and weak, it hit Alok's eyes with incredible accuracy.

"Damn it!" Eyes are such fragile organs that even though they were only hit by a stream of water, Iron Block - Alok still screamed in pain and subconsciously raised his hands to cover his eyes.

The sudden change disrupted the player's rhythm, but his reaction was not slow. While rubbing his eyes with one hand, he clenched his fist with the other hand and kept waving it around, and his feet kept moving to ensure that he would not stay in the same position for too long.

But reasonable responses are more effective than effective causes, and none of these could change the reality that Alok was in trouble.

With a strange laugh, Pachim ran behind his opponent who had temporarily lost his sight, dodging his wildly swinging fists, and with a cunning laugh, he kicked him with ease!

Alok, who lost his balance, let out a sad and angry roar, closed his eyes and swung his hands back and forth like a duck, but in the end he fell helplessly from the ring, raising a cloud of dust in frustration.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Pachim, standing on the ring with his hands on his hips, laughed three times.

"See? This is the power of the Lan Dou Flower and Bird Style!"

"Even the most inconspicuous boxing style has its own unique features." Alvin clapped his hands and sighed.

"...It's more of a despicable victory than a victory of boxing." Brad squeezed out a word from between his teeth with a dark face.

For a devout martial artist like him, boxing is no longer just a skill, but a kind of practice connected to personal pursuits. If it were ten years ago, when his temper was far more volatile than it is now, he would probably have rolled up his sleeves and hit someone on the stage.

"Victory is victory. Even luck can be considered a part of strength, let alone something like tactics."

Memorizing the boxing techniques of both sides on the stage, Ivan couldn't help but smile.

"However, I am becoming more and more interested in the contestants who will appear next."

"..." Brad seemed to realize something and turned his head to look at his talented junior brother.

"Learned."

"Well, I can't say I learned it, I can only say I remembered it." Ivan answered ambiguously:

"If boxers outside the alliance knew about your move, they would probably have even less courage to throw a punch in front of you," Brad said with emotion.

"I'm just better at studying." Alvin tapped his temple with his fingers, his tone joking but also with a bit of serious self-reflection.

Because the previous game was very bloodless, note, bloodless.

Therefore, cleaning the ring becomes very simple.

Elok walked away dejectedly down the aisle without a word, while Pachim arrogantly raised his large shield and spear, which he didn't even need, and swaggered into the audience.

Soon after, the next game will begin.

A fat man wiping his sweat with a white handkerchief walked quickly onto the stage. Two dark-skinned slaves followed behind him, carrying a large magical equipment. They quickly completed the debugging and respectfully handed a microphone-like device to the fat man.

"Dear gentlemen and ladies, the game just now was indeed...unexpected." The host couldn't help but pause when he said this, and the small number of spectators in the stands laughed in agreement.

However, Alvin noticed that after the game, the number of spectators in the arena began to grow rapidly, and many people seemed to be coming for the next game.

"But I'm sure the next contestant to appear will satisfy you."

"Please welcome the legend from the gladiatorial city of Shakara—"

“Shadow of Death!!!”

Chapter 56: Shadow of Death

click!

When he heard the name, Alvin didn't react, but Brad, who was sitting next to him, crushed the ceramic cup in his hand.

This boxer was good at everything except wheatgrass. He had a special liking for it, and while he was watching the fight, he couldn't resist buying a glass from a street vendor selling snacks and drinks. But before he could even take a sip of this ice-cold, refreshing, and foamy wheatgrass, Brad, in his overexcited mood, regrettably spilled it onto the ground.

"What's wrong? The next person to appear is very famous?" Ivan noticed the loss of composure of his senior brother and couldn't help but ask:

"...Why would he appear in this preliminary round full of outsiders?" Brad muttered in confusion before answering his junior's question.

"Ah, yes, that's an old acquaintance." Brad's expression was serious, his eyes fixed on the contestants' entrance passage, as if his gaze could penetrate the darkness of the passage and meet someone's gaze.

The gladiatorial city of Shakara was ruled by the bloodthirsty Hotep, the enemy of the Fifth Sorcerer-King. It was also a huge desert city-state famous for its slave trade and grand and bloody gladiatorial performances.

Although several other city-states also held gladiatorial performances and had public buildings such as arenas, they could not be compared with the gladiatorial performances in Shaqara in terms of the number of gladiatorial performances, the variety of types, or the degree of bloodiness.

The reason why ordinary gladiatorial performances are called performances is that the organizers of gladiatorial events often control the intensity of the fights within a certain range for cost considerations. However, the gladiatorial fights in the city of Shakara are different. They are always filled with bloody violence to the extreme.

There are not only conventional fights between humans, but also life-or-death fights between humans and various sub-human races, and even between humans and ferocious beasts and even demonic beasts.

In order to increase the attraction and enhance the strong visual stimulation, the latter will use iron nails to directly penetrate the flesh and blood of the beasts, cruelly and extravagantly fixing metal weapons, which are rare in the desert area, on the bones of the beasts!

The inhuman pain forced all kinds of animals with different natures to burst out with bloodthirsty savagery!

Even a fully-armored knight might not be able to survive an encounter with a beast in such a frenzied state, not to mention the gladiators whose equipment was already poor and incomplete. Those half-naked slaves would often end up in a miserable end.

The cruelty of reality is appalling, but the results of these duel performances are not always the gladiators' miserable defeats...

"Shadow of Death, that pathetic man was raised in such a crazy environment. Now he can perhaps no longer be called a human being, but has become something more cruel than a beast, more crazy than a monster, a monster among monsters!" Brad said in a suppressed tone:

"We once wanted to free him like we did other gladiator slaves, but he violently refused. I think that man has been completely twisted by the bloody gladiatorial shows in Shakara City. From body to soul, he's become a prisoner. He even wears the prisoner cage forever..."

As the fist fighter spoke incomprehensible words, the crisp sound of metal clashing slowly rang out in the deep and dark passage, followed by a burst of extremely heavy footsteps.

Dust and sand bounced into the sky due to the powerful vibration, and the heavy footsteps made the ground tremble, as if stepping on everyone's heart, making the originally noisy audience seats instantly quiet.

Gradually, the champion gladiator known as the Shadow of Death walked out of the darkness and into the scorching midday sun.

However, what was illuminated by the bright sunlight was not a living human being, but a bloodthirsty monster with a mere human form, its body tightly entangled with a scarlet murderous intent that was as ethereal as mist yet seemed substantial.

The face of the Shadow of Death was completely covered by a strangely shaped brass helmet. The helmet looked like a simple spherical iron block kneaded by brute force, and the surface was decorated with sharp curved blades to form a structure similar to a hat brim.

Moreover, the entire helmet has dozens of circular holes of varying sizes densely packed on the face, mouth and nose, and a rusty iron lock is hung on the neck, giving the overall look a cage-like, oppressive feel.

He was extremely tall, estimated to be over two meters tall, and his muscles were like wild vines that had grown wildly and twisted together, twisted to an explosive degree and giving people an unnatural and strange feeling.

What made people sweat the most were the black iron spikes that penetrated deep into the skin of the Shadow of Death, and the metal rings that also pierced the skin and hung on it.

On the shoulders, thighs and even both sides of the abdomen of the Shadow of Death, there are dozens of black iron spikes deeply embedded in the muscles, as well as an equal number of black metal rings. From time to time, a little reddish-brown liquid seeps out of the wounds caused by the iron spikes and rings penetrating the skin, which means that these wounds have never healed.

Three layers of metal chainmail were firmly fixed to the surface of Death Shadow's skin, relying on black iron spikes and rings that penetrated his flesh and even bones. These metal armors, woven together with numerous riveted metal rings, acted like a second skin for Death Shadow, slowly rising and falling with his muscle movements.

From time to time, one could see inexplicable dark red light flowing quietly under the chain mail shirt.

It was not until this moment that Alvin finally understood what Brad meant by wearing the cage on his body.

Apart from the hideous helmet that could never be removed and the cold chain mail that had melted into his skin, the Shadow of Death's hands were empty. He carried no weapons, only several circles of iron chains wrapped around his wrists like wrist guards.

Even so, Alvin could sense the undisguised threat from this silent gladiator.

It was as if the opponent himself was the sharpest weapon, and the slightest touch would leave a terrible wound that was difficult to heal.

At the same time, the audience around subconsciously held their breath, staring at the tall gladiator who walked onto the central stage, until they heard the host's stuttering voice.

"Welcome... Welcome, Mr. Shadow of Death, the famous gladiator from the gladiatorial city of Shakara. The boxing tournament convened by His Majesty the Great is fair to all, so this legendary gladiator must also participate in the preliminary rounds. Now, please welcome his opponent!"

Later in the speech, the host's voice finally became fluent.

Then, the fat host waved his hand, and another participant walked slowly onto the stage with a serious expression. The other person's familiar appearance made Ivan raise his eyebrows slightly.

"The barbarian orc from the desert border, Stonefist - Kag Gaoshan!"

Chapter 57: So Far

"Even though I don't want to admit it, that guy has some significant mental issues, but his strength should not be underestimated."

Although he didn't notice the subtle changes in Ivan, a look of worry appeared on Brad's face. After all, Gao Shan was also a member of the Free Fist.

"Should I let him go..." Ivan shook his head before he finished speaking.

The previous adventure experience together made him familiar with the character of the orc Gaoshan. Although he was not as reckless as most barbarian orcs, his desire for victory and persistence in honor made him not easily choose to escape.

What's more, Gao Shan is participating in the King of Boxing Tournament as a member of the Free Fist this time. The sense of responsibility that comes with it makes him not give up easily.

But that enemy...

Although still sitting in the stands, Ivan's body began to lean forward inadvertently. His back was like a bow silently drawn in the dark, slowly bending forward in a dangerous arc with simple movements, like a beast about to launch an attack.

Skeletal joints that are harder than steel rotate silently, and muscles as strong as metal wires relax and relax, just like a top-of-the-line main battle tank, which is fully preheated from engine to gun barrel in the blink of an eye.

Shadow of Death, this legendary gladiator that had never been seen before, was definitely a master who should not be underestimated based on Alvin's rich experience. Then, the words that Brad said further directly proved his guess.

"Two years ago, the Fists of Freedom launched an attack on the city of Shakara, attempting to rescue a group of gladiator slaves who had just been sold."

As he was speaking, the competition on the stage had already begun. Gao Shan cautiously adopted a defensive posture, while the Shadow of Death stood there like a statue.

"At that time, the Shadow of Death was fighting in the arena. We wanted to free him as well, but..." Brad's eyes became dangerous.