Grains of sand were stuck between my toes.
The sand was cold.
My gaze stayed fixed on the podium.
The crowd's cheers slowly died as John raised his hand.
When silence finally settled, he spoke.
"Today, I will tell you a story."
He paused, letting his gaze drift through the stands.
"Do not worry."
His voice was calm.
"You will understand why soon."
He leaned forward, both hands braced on the podium.
"Once, there was a boy."
His voice was calm as he began.
"He was born blessed."
"Enough food to never hunger."
"Clean clothes and a roof over his head."
"And a family supporting him."
John let the words sink in.
"He was a noble."
A ripple ran through the stands.
"The son of a Marquis."
The crowd stirred louder now.
"He lacked nothing."
"Not talent. Not status. Not wealth."
John straightened slowly.
"But then—"
His voice dropped.
"Something changed."
The arena was silent as everyone listened to the story.
"And in a single turn of fate…"
The pause stretched.
"He lost everything."
My heart began to pound harder.
"From one day to the next, the boy fell."
John lifted his arm high.
"From the highest place…"
Before letting it drop.
"…to the lowest."
My hands shook—just for a moment.
But I hid it immediately, tightening my grip around the sword.
"From noble…to slave."
The crowd leaned forward.
John continued.
"And there at the lowest place."
His voice rose, then softened again.
"He learned something."
A pause.
"He learned how to survive."
A few nods passed through the stands.
"The odds were against him."
"The world did not care."
"Death waited every day."
John's gaze lowered toward me.
"And yet—"
My grip on my sword became firmer.
"He endured."
"Again."
"And again."
My jaw clenched.
John continued in that same calm tone, like he was reading a tale from a book.
"And now, that boy stands before you."
He spread his hands slightly.
"You named him."
Then he pointed directly at me.
"Adonis the survivor."
The name echoed through the arena.
Murmurs spread, growing louder with each second.
John's voice rose a little.
"Today, the story continues."
He gestured toward the gate.
"Not as a noble."
"Not as a slave."
"But as a warrior."
John lifted his hand again.
"So I ask you…"
His voice rang out.
"Which blood will stain the sand today?"
A pause.
"The beast's?"
"Or the warrior's?"
John lowered his hand.
"Let us see."
At last, he shouted.
"Blood!"
The crowd answered, roaring.
"NO MERCY!"
Thud.
The gate opened with a heavy groan. Sand fell from its hinges as the metal shifted.
Then, from the darkness behind the gate, cold rushed in. And with the cold came a ripple of mana that seeped into the arena.
At first, there was only darkness.
Then—
A breath later.
Something appeared.
Two blue orbs.
They seemed small at first, but grew larger with each second passing.
Then came the sound.
Thud.
A dull sound—
Thud.
Accompanied the blue orbs as they turned larger.
Thud.
A shape appeared in the darkness.
Thud.
That shape gained color.
Thud.
Turning from dark to grey.
Thud.
Then white.
Thud.
The beast stepped out of the dark and into the light.
And the moment my eyes lay upon it—
My body shuddered.
Not from the cold breeze which accompanied the beast.
But because I knew exactly what it was.
A Frostwolf.
Thud.
The wolf stepped further into the arena, blue eyes locked on me.
Snow-white fur, faintly tinged with blue at the edges. Frost clung to its fur and dropped to the ground with every movement. Its head stayed low, eyes forward, breath leaving its mouth in white clouds that lingered.
Thud.
A second wolf stepped out of the darkness.
Thud.
Then a third.
My hands trembled as a memory tried to surface—
But I crushed it down before it could settle, forcing my grip on the sword tighter.
My gaze never left the beasts.
The three frostwolves stepped closer, spreading out just enough to fill the space without disturbing one another.
Their eyes never left me, and all three of them stared at me while drawing closer.
I raised my sword and shifted my feet into stance.
They moved further apart from each other, fanning out, forming a loose arc with me at the center.
Their mouths opened slightly, just enough to show their teeth. They were sharp, and their two fangs looked like curved daggers, coated with ice.
Drip.
Drops of salvia fell to the ground and left a small patch of ice behind.
The largest of them in the center took a single step forward, ice-coated claws digging into the sand.
A low growl rolled from its throat.
The others mirrored it.
Step.
My body reacted before I could stop it, and I took half a step back.
The wolves froze.
Their eyes seemed to shift down toward my legs and then back toward my face.
I felt...
Watched.
Their gaze was heavy.
Then, as if they had spoken with each other, their positions shifted again.
The two outer wolves widened the arc, slowly flanking me from both sides while the one in the center came straight at me.
It felt like a net.
Meant to trap me.
My heartbeat quickened.
Its tempo rose with every step they took.
Their heads lowered further as the distance between us shrank. Each time one moved, the others moved with it.
Then—
Thud.
The wolf in the center jumped forward.
I reacted immediately, shifting my grip into a stab, ready to push the sword forward.
But—
Thud.
It stopped abruptly, right in front of me, then stepped back.
A feint.
I realized it too late.
Thud.
The wolf on my left lunged at me.
I barely shifted my sword in time.
Clang.
Its claws hit my sword.
Patches of ice bloomed across the metal like flowers, spreading in a heartbeat. Cold traveled down the blade, and toward my hands, I forced my trembling fingers still.
But it didn't stop there.
Its head snapped forward—
Chomp.
I tilted my head at the last moment, its fangs slicing past my cheek.
Swoosh.
Something moved behind me.
Step.
I stepped sideways—
Skrtch.
It wasn't enough.
Pain flared as claws grazed my side.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the pain away, and jumped away, yanking my blade free and creating distance.
Pain shot through me at the movement.
But even worse than pain itself—
Cold.
A sudden coldness seeped into my skin, spreading from the wound at my side.
The pain vanished as my body grew numb.
I glanced down and widened my eyes at what I saw.
My shirt was ripped open at the side. And through the gap between clothes peeked my skin out.
It wasn't white.
Not anymore.
The skin around the wound turned bluish.
Like—
Frostbite.
A sudden realization struck me at that moment.
The coldness that I felt from their mana.
I had never felt something like that coming from a beast.
I had a guess, but I wasn't sure.
Until now.
My gaze snapped back to the wolves.
They didn't press further and retreated, forming another half-circle around me.
Their sharp gazes, watching, observing me.
The way they attacked me, coordinated.
The ripple of mana I felt from them.
The signs were obvious.
These wolves weren't Lesser Beasts.