Chapter 496 - 326: Profit and Profit

Saint Demin Arena.

The sun climbed to its zenith, bathing the elliptical arena in golden light. The stands were packed, and the crowd’s cheers and roars of anticipation converged into a tidal wave of sound that crashed against the arena’s ancient stone walls.

The atmosphere in the Gladiatorial Arena was electric, so tense it felt as if the very air was trembling.

Vendors weaved through the seats, hawking wine and delicacies, their cries mingling with the shouts of the audience.

All of Gonda’s most famous painters had been given the best seats, a perfect vantage point overlooking the entire battlefield. This would allow them to render the scene that was about to unfold onto their canvases.

They all knew that as long as their work wasn’t a complete disaster, it would be immortalized. This was their chance to become legendary painters, recorded in the annals of history, their fame enduring for a thousand years.

Their hands, gripping their paintbrushes, grew clammy with nerves. The direct sunlight made their skin crawl, but they forced themselves to endure it. The slightest lapse in concentration could mean missing the most spectacular moment.

"First match: Duke Debei Levi versus the Holy Sith Kingdom’s Fasting Giant Demonic Bronze Puppet."

Prince Filo stood atop a towering beast that resembled a Mammoth from the Wilderness.

Well-versed in all sorts of "Minor Magic," he had been assigned the role of temporary announcer. A vastly simplified "Soul Shock" was all it took for his voice to reach the ears of every single person in the arena.

"Lord Levi, my apologies."

The Holy Sith Kingdom typically assigned an Alchemist to control each Fasting Demon Statue for a number of reasons. The one standing before the Lord was a young man with freckles. He spoke respectfully before chanting a strange string of syllables, activating the Ring on his finger.

The moment the Spell ended, the azure Ring erupted with a blinding light as dazzling as the sun itself.

When the golden light faded, a towering Bronze Demonic Puppet abruptly appeared in the center of the Gladiatorial Arena.

This Demonic Puppet was like a scaled-up Giant. The only difference was that Giants typically had blue skin, while the Bronze Demonic Puppet gleamed with the unique luster of bronze. Mysterious lines, glowing with silver light, coiled around its body.

A roar of excitement erupted from the stands.

To the nobles in attendance, merely looking at the Bronze Demonic Puppet was enough to inspire despair. They had no idea how one would even begin to fight it. A creature like that could likely smash through a castle’s gates with ease; it was beyond anything human strength could possibly contend with.

This duel was far more thrilling than the usual gladiatorial bouts.

Betting was a common pastime at the Gladiatorial Arena, and a rare spectacle like this was sure to attract its share of clever opportunists.

A Giant Goblin wearing a Felt Hat strode into the arena’s spacious hall. It wore a monocle attached to a gold chain and was dressed exactly like a wealthy merchant.

Following behind it were a large man clad head-to-toe in armor like an Ironman, and a burly youth in a Face-covering Helmet that left only his mouth exposed.

"Leiden, are you sure this plan of my brother-in-law’s will work?" Mier whispered to the Giant Goblin.

Just last night, the Lord had hastily found them and started their training, saying he wanted to make a huge killing on this duel.

The group had gotten dressed and hurried over first thing in the morning.

"It should be fine." In reality, Leiden’s heart was pounding. Even though Levi had given him a detailed explanation last night about bookmaking, how to leverage information asymmetry, and the psychology of gamblers, it was still his first time being pushed into something like this.

The three of them found an empty space and set up their table. Zat, completely encased in Iron Armor, placed a heavy wooden chest on the ground.

The air in the arena’s hall was thick with the smell of rust and ale. The trio exchanged a glance. Finally, Leiden tapped the Brass Gambling Table with a finger bearing his Emerald Ring and shouted out a jingle the Lord had taught him last night: "Honest to young and old, we’re a time-honored brand! We take all bets and pay all wins—our golden sign’s our bond!"

"Place your bets, place your bets! Twenty-to-one odds, with the Duke’s backing..."

The Giant Goblin’s voice was as crisp as the clink of Gold Coins, and it quickly drew the attention of the nobles.

They didn’t find it strange; after all, betting was a standard activity at the Gladiatorial Arena.

Nor were they worried that these three strangers would take the money and run. Nearly everyone who could enter the arena today was a noble of some renown.

And besides, they claimed to be working for the Duke.

"What are the bets?" someone asked.

"Bet on whether the Lion Hunter Knight finishes his opponent within one hundred heartbeats, fifty heartbeats, or five heartbeats! The respective payouts are two-to-one, five-to-one, and fifty-to-one!" The Giant Goblin rubbed the back of his head, a simple, honest smile revealing two rows of large, slightly yellowed teeth, making him look like an old farmer.

The noble considered for a moment. The Lion Hunter Knight’s track record was certainly dazzling, but the Holy Sith Kingdom’s Fasting Demonic Puppet was no pushover. ’Finishing it in five heartbeats? That’s probably impossible.’

"Count of Perth. A Hundred Gold Coins on fifty heartbeats," the noble with the Little Moustache said, tossing a bag of Gold Coins onto the table. He chose what he considered the most plausible outcome.

"You got it." Leiden hadn’t expected to rake in a Hundred Gold Coins so quickly—it was faster than outright robbery. He beamed as he wrote down the count’s name, then tossed the Gold Coins into the chest.

More and more nobles began to place their bets. Meanwhile, on the main battlefield...