Gregorian Empire — Province of Numidia
Port City of Cartag – Provincial Amphitheater
A faint breeze lifted a grain of dust just as Battler finally lunged forward.
The force behind his fists seemed sharp enough to slice the air, but the flurry of strikes was stopped dead by Sam's open palms.
Every clash sent shockwaves rippling across the arena. The crowd shot to its feet. The fight had begun—James grinning with a feral thrill as he pushed the Abuser back.
From the first row among the commoners, April pressed a hand to her chest. "James… don't get careless. He still hasn't attacked."
Lucia and Marilyn watched in silence, each holding different expectations for the match. Everyone anticipated a balanced duel.
Reality showed something very different. Little by little, James realized his blows weren't building up any damage.
Sweat rolled down his forehead. Battler pushed harder—faster strikes, sharper focus. And still, none of it mattered.
The Abuser dodged everything with slight tilts of his head, redirecting every punch aimed at his ribs or stomach. And in a blink, he appeared behind Battler, exposing a blatant gulf in speed.
The crowd began to grasp what they were seeing. So did James.
James Battler: — "Don't you dare underestimate me, bastard!!"
As he roared, he snapped into Berserker Mode—blood-red aura bursting out of him in a menacing wave. His speed surged. His strength spiked. His precision turned razor-sharp.
The aura's pressure drew a collective breath from the audience. They were witnessing the Berserker Prodigy—the genius who had mastered both Qi and Aura.
Alex watched with disbelief.
"Battler really is worthy of that title."
But the Abuser was still faster. And still not counterattacking.
April shut her eyes, feeling the immeasurable gap between them. "He's not using Aura, magic, or Qi… he's a physical monster."
As James ramped up the intensity, he gritted his teeth in growing frustration. Desperation crept into the rhythm of his attacks.
James Battler: —"STOP SLIPPING AROUND, DAMN RAT, AND HIT ME BACK!!"
— Alright. I'll take your hits head-on, barbarian.
[Basic Skill: «Absolute Resistance» — Active]
James roared, breath turning ragged. Far from reaching his limit, he doubled down—punches, sweeping kicks, combos landing squarely against the Abuser's body. Yet the masked figure avoided every strike aimed at his CI-Mask.
The stadium erupted—Battler had finally shown his full strength. He moved so fast that only a handful could track him.
Rick, Frank, and Lucius—superhumans—watched from above. They knew from the very first exchange:
"That slave hasn't shown even a fraction of his power."
Lucius whispered to himself:
Lucius: —"He must be on the verge of enlightenment…"
The shouts of the crowd began to fade as they realized something:James was losing steam. He was burning himself out.
When the dust finally settled, he expected to see the Abuser wounded—maybe even crippled.
Instead… nothing. Not a scratch.
James clenched his teeth hard enough to bleed. For the first time in his life, he faced someone—someone who might even be younger—who made him feel utterly powerless.
His pride couldn't swallow the humiliation.
Overwhelmed, furious at his own uselessness, he bellowed with the last shred of his warrior pride:
James Battler: —"HIT ME—JUST ONCE!!"
— "Alright."
The moment the Abuser spoke, a message flashed across his mask:
«Bye Loser»
In a blur, he leapt over James's head with insulting agility.
One hand grabbed James by the skull mid-air.He twisted into an acrobatic maneuver—
—and slammed Battler into the stone floor headfirst.
Silence.The entire arena forgot how to breathe.
Then came the sound of a body crashing against the black stone.
***
POV Brian
Seeing that berserker mob sprawled on the ground, completely helpless…
I remembered my past as the Worst Gamer alive.So yeah—I felt a little bad for him.
"Guess that means I'm moving on to the next round, huh?"
My thoughts were cut off by the announcer's voice booming at me:
Announcer: —"«Abuser, decide the loser's fate… life or death?»"
Hearing that… made everything click.
A Roman-style coliseum.Of course this was going to happen.
Thumbs down: death.Thumbs up: mercy.
I thought it through: "I've got nothing against this red-tipped barbarian berserker."
So I raised both thumbs upward, and the same gesture appeared on my mask's screen.
"I may be an asshole, with a demon-tier personality,but… I'm not that far gone."
They dragged the guy off toward his waiting chamber, and a very attractive girl jumped down from the stands to follow him. I also noticed them carrying off a priest—one dressed differently from the others I'd seen.
I considered checking that mob's status window, but honestly?I was tired of reading screens full of question marks.
***
And so, the second round began to unfold—
With everyone still stunned by the Abuser's overwhelming victory over Battler.
In the royal box, the consuls and Prince Alex wrestled with a mix of emotions: intrigue, frustration, indignation… but above all, curiosity about that masked figure's identity.
Marilyn was convinced this was him.
But someone else in the noble stands—besides Marilyn—recognized that mark as well.Someone who knew exactly which of the Three Hundred Count Families of Lichstein it belonged to.