Chapter 224
Chapter 224
Chapter 224
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 224: Lan Qi’s Slaughtering Unit
“Is this necessary?”
Kuse slightly lowered his gaze, looking at the document Lan Qi handed over.
According to the official rules of this match, there were indeed some exemption clauses and risk statements. But during negotiations with Student Council President Monaster, Dean Sphintos had only given a fair oral agreement.
This document now laid out all the rules in detail. Once signed, it would have formal legal effect.
The terms were simple and clear, with no tricks—just straightforwardly: to divide victory and defeat, and also to determine life and death.
Of course, with the ancient barrier techniques of the Knight Academy arena in place, lives wouldn’t necessarily be lost.
“To regulate the match, participants must set an example,” Lan Qi said in a serious, impartial tone.
“Good. That suits me just fine.”
Kuse’s lips twisted into a cruel smile as he accepted the document.
Even if the appearance of the group behind Lan Qi was a little strange, the difference in strength was overwhelming. No amount of bluffing or psychological tactics would change that.
With this life-and-death agreement, he could go all out—teach these fools what cruelty truly meant.
After confirming the contents, Kuse and the other fighters signed the document.
Then Kuse swept his gaze over the five figures standing behind Lan Qi, as if itching to crush them.
“Now, both sides please step back. Once the coaches leave the stage, the barrier will activate, and the match may begin.”
The referee collected the signed “Knight Academy Team Fighting Arena Disclaimer and Risk Statement,” now with all ten fighters’ names, and made the announcement.
“Heh.”
Kuse sneered, glancing back at Lan Qi. He drew his thumb across his throat—a gesture saying: You’re next.
Lan Qi ignored him. Holding the coach’s clipboard in one hand, he stepped down from the battle platform.
He never wasted words.
Raindrops began to fall from the dark clouds above, blown by the cold wind against the arena’s protective barrier.
As all contestants took their positions, the crowd grew noisy with anticipation. Some held hot drinks to ward off the chill, others clung to friends or family for warmth.
“The odds now are about 1 to 6.5, Yaloran Royal Academy against Ikerite Academy.”
“Last time the match was cut short halfway—rumor was the gap in strength was too great. Kuse is a sixth-rank, while Ikerite’s strongest is only fifth-rank.”
“Let’s see if Coach Lan Qi can change anything.”
Though Ikerite’s entrance had felt eerie, maybe it was just a style choice—to make things more suspenseful since they were the underdogs.
As the clock hands reached the appointed hour, the deep, rhythmic chimes of Ikerite Academy’s ancient bell tower rang out across the winter afternoon. The sound mingled with the crowd’s thunderous cheers.
When the last bell toll faded, the match was about to begin. Victory or defeat, glory or loss—would all be decided in the moments ahead.
At the center of the battlefield, ten fighters faced one another. The tension was so thick that any movement could unleash a storm.
In the howling wind and darkened arena, this standoff was the only focus. Everyone waited for the decisive moment.
“Match—begin!!”
At the referee’s shout, the cheers peaked.
Both sides charged straight in!
All ten figures advanced cautiously, testing each other.
But contrary to expectations—that Ikerite might defend first and counter—them instead burst forward like ravenous beasts released from cages.
At the same time, they activated the only magical tools allowed in the match: their bound magic cards.
“Wait—wasn’t this supposed to be a pure contest of fighters?”
Voices of surprise echoed in the stands.
Normally, fighters who weren’t skilled in spells would equip cards for enhancements or immunities, maximizing physical strength, combat skill, and agility.
But the Ikerite fighters… had equipped pitch-black heavy armor, wielding bloodstained great-axes, scythes, and serrated broadswords. Their sinister aura and twisted grins made them look like a pack of bloodthirsty butchers.
The Yaloran fighters froze, startled, their charge faltering.
Just meeting their eyes made their skin crawl.
Heavy-armored warriors were durable but slow. Light-armored warriors were agile but fragile.
And in this enclosed barrier, like a beast’s cage, heavy armor could dominate—especially if backed by disabling spells like ground thorns.
The rules didn’t forbid weapon cards, true. But as fighters, wasn’t it natural to use gauntlets or armguards?
Yet that wasn’t the real issue.
The problem was their mental state.
The Ikerite team’s eyes bulged, bloodshot as if they hadn’t slept for nights. Their pupils were dilated, flushed with a burning madness.
Facial muscles twitched, lips trembled, breath came in harsh, uneven gasps—each inhalation rattling unnaturally.
Even beneath their heavy armor, their heads jerked and shook, as though barely restraining inner pain and insanity.
The Yaloran fighters finally felt it—true, instinctive danger.
This wasn’t acting.
They weren’t pretending.
“Hehehehe… time to slaughter pigs…”
The laughter of the Soul of Fighters members was like the lowest keys of a piano, metallic and chilling.
The only thing that could quench their hunger was the blood and marrow of the “swine” before them.
Up in the high stands, Loren’s eyes widened. He gripped the table and rose in shock.
“These five… are they really Ikerite students?”
If someone said they were Resurrection Cultists, he might have believed it—except even cultists weren’t like this.
On the battlefield—
“Kill!!!”
“Fight!!!”
The fighters’ bodies lunged forward, dragged by their weapons, their charge as fast and sharp as a storm!