Chapter Twenty-Five: In the Arena

As dawn broke, Yin Seventeen hurried towards the arena. The battle for the sacred armor would take place there. As he approached, the number of pedestrians increased significantly, most of whom were aspiring fighters eager to witness the spectacle. They had not ignited their small universe and were not qualified to don the sacred armor; they could only watch the combat between reserve fighters for their own enjoyment. The true contenders for the sacred armor were reserve fighters like Yin Seventeen, who had already ignited their small universe. Each punch and kick from them could reach or even exceed the speed of sound, easily shattering boulders and tearing apart the earth. The uninitiated aspiring fighters seemed like small children in comparison, having no chance of contesting against them. However, while there were not many reserve fighters, their number still exceeded that of the sacred armors available, meaning not everyone would receive one. To ensure fairness, the Sanctuary established a distribution scheme for the sacred armor—the battle for it. Through combat, the ultimate victor would claim the armor, leaving little room for complaints from the defeated. However, the sacred armor competition only applied within the Sanctuary. Certain armors, due to various special reasons, had been lost outside, and the Sanctuary could no longer exert control over them. For instance, the Dragon Armor of the constellation Draco was one such case. The Gold Saint, Tong Hu, stationed at Wulao Peak of Mount Lushan, had direct control over the Dragon Armor, beyond the Pope’s jurisdiction. Tong Hu would give it to whomever he pleased, and if he chose not to, no one could take it.

After walking for nearly five minutes, Yin Seventeen arrived at the arena. It was a circular combat arena surrounded by layers of spectator stands, reminiscent of the coliseums of ancient Rome. However, in this sacred place, brutal animal fights could not occur; it served only as a battleground for the fighters to showcase their skills. Many onlookers had already filled about seventy or eighty percent of the seats. Despite their tightly packed training schedules, many aspiring fighters were willing to take a day off to admire the prowess of the reserve fighters. After all, the reserve fighters were just one armor away from becoming true Saints. In many ways, the battles between reserve fighters were hardly different from those between actual Saints.

After waiting for nearly half an hour, the Pope, clad in a white robe and golden helmet, finally arrived at the arena. He pointed at a nearby armor box and called out loudly, “Warriors of Athena! It is time for the battle for the sacred armor!” “Come, those who wish to claim the ‘Dragon of Nine Heads’ armor, step forward and fight!” As his words fell, waves of small universes ignited in the audience, sending probing signals towards the armor box.

Numerous reserve fighters began to confirm whether the Dragon of Nine Heads armor resonated with their small universes. “That guy was right; the Dragon of Nine Heads armor is indeed not meant for me!” Yin Seventeen, who was also testing his small universe, shook his head. In response to his probing, the Dragon of Nine Heads armor felt like a lifeless stone, offering no response whatsoever. It is important to note that the armors, crafted since the mythological era and passed down to the present, were far more than mere pieces of armor. They could not only protect a fighter's body but also resonate with their small universe, allowing them to unleash greater power. More importantly, they possessed a certain degree of sentience and could autonomously choose their users. Therefore, they instinctively rejected those whose small universes did not align with them. Even if forcibly donned, they provided no benefit, merely weighing the wearer down. Now, without receiving a response from the Dragon of Nine Heads armor, the answer was clear: it rejected Yin Seventeen’s small universe. Yet he was not the only reserve fighter present; there were hundreds more. Among them, there would surely be some whose small universe resonated with the Dragon of Nine Heads armor.

Soon, a dozen figures sprang forward from the audience, landing steadily in the arena. Eight men and five women, a total of thirteen, were all reserve fighters favored by the Dragon of Nine Heads armor. One of the men was particularly towering, over two meters tall, and there were likely few in the entire Sanctuary who could compare. At that moment, a rough shout from the stands drowned out the other spectators' noise. “Big brother, you’ve got to give it your all! Don’t let those outsiders get the armor!” Yin Seventeen turned to locate the source of the voice and quickly found it in the stands. It was another incredibly burly man, sitting next to a petite female Saint. “Serpentarius Sharna?” Having been fortunate enough to attend her lectures, Yin Seventeen recognized the female Saint at once. “So, that guy next to her is Cassius?” Yin Seventeen soon identified the man as well. In the Sanctuary, it was rare for Saints to associate with aspiring fighters. If it happened, it was likely a mentor-mentee relationship. Cassius was one of the fortunate few in the training camp, taken under the wing of the Silver Saint Sharna, receiving personal guidance in his training, making him much happier than the majority of aspiring fighters.

“Don’t worry, my dear brother; the Dragon of Nine Heads armor will belong to me alone; no one can take it!” The hulking reserve fighter laughed arrogantly in the arena, causing displeased expressions among the others. Noticing the glances directed at Cassius, Yin Seventeen quickly understood that the two were brothers, explaining their similar imposing physiques. “So, the guy in the arena must be Douglas?” Given his connection to Cassius, Yin Seventeen recognized the identity of the other fighter as well. Douglas and Cassius were both local residents of Greece and notably xenophobic. He could easily foresee a scene where Douglas ruthlessly slaughtered his opponents to intimidate the remaining competitors.

As no more reserve fighters stepped forward, the Pope loudly addressed the participants, “In the name of Athena, I shall witness the fairness of this battle!” “You will compete in pairs; the winners will proceed to the next round, and the final victor will claim the Dragon of Nine Heads armor!” “Do you have any objections?” He cast a questioning glance at the participants. “Um… Your Holiness, we have thirteen people; it seems we can’t form pairs!” Douglas raised his hand to inquire respectfully. Though he was certainly arrogant, he was not foolish. Offending the Pope could jeopardize his standing in the Sanctuary. “The odd one out will have a bye and proceed directly to the next round!” the Pope replied leisurely. “But Your Holiness, wouldn’t that be unfair?” a participating reserve fighter tentatively asked from below. “Unfair?” The Pope's voice carried a cold laugh from behind his mask. “You merely think that the one with a bye saves energy by not fighting.” “Let me tell you, true strength is not burdened by such trivial concerns!” “Even if their stamina is drained more than their opponent’s, they can still achieve ultimate victory!” “Only the weak would concern themselves with such petty matters!” “Does someone like that even have the right to don this sacred armor?” The Pope's words resonated powerfully, leaving the participants speechless, while excitement erupted among the audience. Indeed, only the strong were worthy of wearing the sacred armor!