As the words left his lips, the entire hall fell into a state of absolute shock!
The Grandmaster, Valkyrie, and the ten Champion Warriors—all of them stood frozen, jaws dropped, completely speechless. The palace was so silent you couldn't even hear a breath.
"Hahaha... interesting! Too interesting!"
A moment later, the Grandmaster's face turned beet red. He slapped his thighs and burst into a wild, manic laughter, dancing around so frantically his voice actually cracked. "Jason Walter, you said it! No backing out now!"
The Grandmaster loved arrogance. After processing ten Champions, he thought he was immune to big talk, but Jason had just handed him a massive surprise. One man against ten Champions! This was a first in the history of the Grandmaster's games. Once word got out, the Arena would be packed to the rafters. Tonight's match was going to be a spectacle. He just hoped Jason's strength was as big as his mouth; otherwise, the match would be a joke.
The ten warriors finally snapped out of it, their blood boiling as they clenched their fists. One of them shook his head. "I've lived for thousands of years and never seen anyone this cocky."
Jason grinned. "Well, today's your lucky day!"
"You—"
Fury surged through them. If it weren't for the Grandmaster's clear excitement for the match, they would have torn this kid to pieces right there to show him the price of insulting a Champion.
Valkyrie turned to look at him, her mind a tangled mess of emotions. If it were one-on-one, based on her estimate of Jason's power, he'd have a solid chance against any of them. But one against ten? Honestly, she didn't have a shred of confidence. These fighters came from all corners of the universe with countless bizarre abilities. Winning a hundred matches was no small feat. These Champions were the most brutal, unstoppable killing machines on the planet. What was this man thinking?
The Champions couldn't strike yet, so they just loomed over him, snarling. Jason looked at them with pure disdain and said, "Actually, the reason I'm challenging all ten of you is that I don't want the Grandmaster to keep being deceived by you."
A swordsman gripped his hilt, enraged. "Nonsense! When have we ever deceived the Grandmaster?"
Jason glanced at the unremarkable swordsman. "You people are clearly trash, yet you dare flaunt your might to gain high positions. If that isn't deception, what is? Today, I'm ripping off your masks."
"You bastard!" The swordsman's eyes went bloodshot. With a flick of his wrist, his blade sang out of its scabbard, the tip pointing straight at Jason's heart. "Dare to call me trash? I swear... you won't live through the night!"
A swordsman who gets triggered this easily? If you aren't trash, who is? Jason raised his hands slightly to avoid the blade's tip, a faint smile still playing on his lips. "Don't misunderstand me. I'm not targeting you specifically. I'm saying... Everyone in this room is trash."
BOOM!
The statement hit like a thunderclap.
"You're fucking dead!"
"Little boy, I'll kill you right now!"
"I'm going to throw you in a deep fryer and eat you!"
The Champions snapped. Ignoring the Grandmaster's presence, they moved to leave Jason's corpse on the floor.
"STOP!"
Suddenly, the Grandmaster stood up from his throne. The crowd stopped, fuming, only to see the Grandmaster's eyes bloodshot and his cheek muscles twitching. He swallowed hard, looked up, and whispered to himself with a crazed light in his eyes, "...everyone in this room is trash..."
Then, his lips curled into a satisfied, manic grin. He screamed in delight: "Jason Walter, you are fascinating! I have never heard such magnificent arrogance in all my life... fascinating! Absolutely fascinating!"
The Grandmaster was like a child with a brand new toy, completely losing his regal composure. Then again, with his power, he didn't need composure to maintain his rule.
"This..." The Champions were ready to complain, but seeing the Grandmaster this hyped, they worried he'd fallen in love with the kid. Shit, he's not going to make us throw the fight, is he? They exchanged worried, subtle glances. The Grandmaster was capricious; if it made him happy, he'd throw out every rule in the book.
The Grandmaster didn't care what they thought. Once he'd had his fun, he pulled back his smile. "Jason! You are full of surprises. I like you very much, but you should know I hate liars. I won't rig this match. You're on your own. If you lose, I'll be disappointed. If you win... you'll be the Hero of Sakaar!"
Jason gave a strange smile. "Hero? I think I'd like that title."
The match was set. The group left the palace, and Jason and Valkyrie headed to the designated waiting room. As soon as the guards closed the door, Valkyrie exploded.
"One against ten Champions! Are you insane?! What the hell were you thinking!"
Jason looked around at the room's decor, pouting with distaste.
"Talk to me!" She yelled.
Jason calmly soothed her. "Relax. I'm not a reckless man. Based on your files, these Champions are just alright. I made sure to observe them in person to be sure. With my current strength, one-against-ten might be a bit of a workout, but the result won't change."
Valkyrie slowly calmed down. "Even so, why take the risk? What if... what if you slip up?"
"There is no what if. I didn't get close to the Grandmaster for a fancy room. A mere title means nothing to me."
"Then what do you want?" She asked.
"Information," Jason replied. "Classified information. To get it, I need his absolute trust and favor."
Valkyrie finally settled. She had thought he was just a brainless brute, but he had a hidden agenda. She looked at him with a new level of respect. "Do you really have confidence in tonight's match?"
Jason nodded. "Just sit back and watch the show."
Valkyrie sighed. "If you're telling the truth, I have no idea how terrifying you really are. What weapon do you use? I'll go find one for you."
"No need. I prefer hand-to-hand."
Valkyrie looked serious. "The Arena isn't a playground. You at least need a suit of armor."
Jason nodded. "Fine. Get me the coolest-looking one."
The news set the City of Gambling on fire. Some were thrilled to see their favorite Champions. Others were confused at the mystery man's madness. Some worried it was just a rigged publicity stunt. But regardless, everyone was paying attention. Tickets sold out in minutes. Latecomers had to pay scalpers ten times the price, leading to protests in the streets.
As night fell, two hours before the match, the gates opened. The massive stadium, capable of holding 100,000 people, was packed. Jason sat in the waiting room, eyes closed. Even the soundproof glass couldn't block out the roar of 100,000 fans.
Click. The door opened. Valkyrie walked in carrying a white case. "Your armor."
Jason thanked her and took it. He sniffed the air and frowned. "I smell blood. Did you kill someone?"
Valkyrie looked away, her expression stiff. "The armor in the Arena is garbage. I went to the black market to get you something decent, but the damn shopkeeper raised the price at the last second, and I didn't have enough cash. So..."
Jason felt a spark of warmth. He laughed. "Understandable. I would have done the same. Thank you."
Valkyrie didn't look at him. "Just fight well. Don't you dare lose." She left without waiting for a reply.
Jason watched her go with a strange look. Is this girl falling for me? But she's thousands of years older than me. I've heard of milf, but this is ridiculous...
He shook it off and opened the case. Inside was a set of metal armor—sleek, aggressive, and exactly to his taste. He flicked the metal with his finger. That's solid.
He suited up and stood before the mirror. He looked like a medieval knight reborn—the cape added a touch of elegance, while the metal plating screamed power and ruthlessness. Perfect.
With thirty minutes left, the door opened. Two rows of armed guards appeared. "It's time."
Jason picked up a heavy sword—though he preferred his fists, he had to look the part—and let out a long breath. "Lead the way."
The Arena was buzzing. At the entrance, low-level gladiators were held behind laser gates, eyeing Jason with curiosity. "Is that him?" "Looks like it." "Kid doesn't look like much. Is he really taking on all ten?" "Armor's cool, though. Must be worth a fortune."
Jason ignored them all.
Clang! Clang!
In the center of the ring, two armored fighters were finishing a preliminary bout. Blades pierced armor, blood sprayed the sand, and the crowd roared at the scent of gore. A few minutes later, one fell, and the winner took his head without hesitation, holding it high to the cheers of the mob.
As the body was hauled away, the lights dimmed. Holograms of the Grandmaster shimmered into the air. "Good evening, everyone! I'm your host!" He waved enthusiastically. "Are you satisfied with the warm-up? Let's give them a hand!"
A deafening roar followed.
"Now, without further ado, the main event. I hope you're as ready as I am. Let's welcome our challenger... oh, this one is special. It's his first time, but he's got skills, and a face that reminds me of my younger days... Let's welcome the 'Fighter,' Jason Walter!!"
The iron gates groaned open. Jason strode into the sunlight.
"BOOOOOO!!!!"
The crowd rained down vitriol. A rookie challenging Champions? "Die, trash!"
Jason didn't flinch. He simply raised both hands and flipped the entire stadium double middle fingers. They didn't know what it meant, but the intent was clear enough.
"And now, the opponents. They need no introduction. They are the Kings of the Arena, Champions with hundreds of wins... and tonight, they aren't coming out one by one. They are all coming out together!!"
"HOOOOORRRRAAAHHHH!!!!"
The ten Champions strode into the ring, stopping thirty meters from Jason.
"Kid! Tonight is the night you die!" The swordsman hissed, making a throat-slitting gesture.
"Wait your turn," The giant with the axe growled, licking his lips. "He's my snack."
"I'm going to deep-fry him," The rock monster chuckled.
"How many seconds do you think you'll last?" The short guy in the top hat mocked.
Jason just smiled. "If you want me dead, you'd better work for it."
The Grandmaster's voice boomed over the speakers, drawing out the final word: "LET THE MATCH... BEGIN!"
.
.
.
.
You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
Top 100. All time.
