"Is this the Mortal that would be sparring with Young Master Conrad? He sure have guts!"
It was unknown who said that, but the murmur suddenly made the eyes of several cultivators squint as their gazes blatantly roamed the duo. Conrad, they knew, but Osric? Only a handful of them had heard of him. Even then, these handful hadn't been present when he underwent his Awakening Ceremony.
However, could they be blamed? Obviously not. In a Coliseum where Divines gallivanted, and Immortals gadded, what right did a Mortal have to be present? Only the most affluent of Mortals were present that night.
The Immortals, though, were more astute in their observation. They could sense the aura of a peak Nascent Realm cultivator from him, and with a casual scan of their senses, they could tell he wasn't any younger or older than Conrad.
And this discovery though, made their eyes narrow, because it meant only one thing. This Osric, was just as talented as Conrad, and even if he wasn't, he wasn't far-off either. But, why didn't they know of him?
Although, from his appearance, they could tell he wasn't a Fahren, however, anyone talented enough to walk the grounds of the Fahren Clan was bound to be popular. And yet, they didn't know of him.
Their eyes couldn't help but shift to the only Immortal that sat on the highest seat of the Battle Hall. Their aura felt all-encompassing, as though they couldn't be seen through by a pair of normal eyes.
From the expression on their face, they could tell he wasn't in the dark, unlike them. He definitely knew who this Osric was.
That said, even though they knew nothing of him, this battle arena should be a good opportunity to glean few things about him.
*
Osric on the other hand, couldn't be bothered to care about the words of an ignorant Mortal. Since they didn't believe he would be able to win, then he would only need to let them know how wrong they were by his actions only.
He made his way towards the smallest arena of the Battle Hall.
The Battle Hall had three arenas. One for Mortal cultivators, the second for Immortal cultivators, and the last for Divines. And they were differentiated by their sizes as well.
The arena built for Mortals was the smallest of all three. It was rectangular-shaped and spanned nearly five hundred meters in length and a little over two hundred meters in wideness.
The arena for Immortals was triple that. It was rectangular-shaped as well, and it was approximately one thousand five hundred meters in length, and over six hundred meters in width.
As for the one built for Divines, it took the eyes of an Immortal to fully cover the dimensions. Just from a cursory glance from the Immortals in the arena, it seem to span tens of thousands of kilometers in longness, and thousands in breadth.
Osric took a deep breath before stepping onto the black, incomparably hard ground of the arena. And almost immediately, he felt a pulse travel up his spine to his brain.
'Formation…'
In the past, even before he became a cultivator, Osric had been able to sense Formations, but they weren't vivid. Now though, he could sense them with near absolute clarity.
He suddenly looked up, his gaze zooming past the countless figures that were the crowd, before landing on a young man. The young man appeared to be stunned before he flashed a friendly smile.
However, Osric was unfazed by this. Behind that smile, he could make out the killing intent that threatened to bubble out. He watched on coldly for awhile before a soft chuckle escaped his lips.
"So you survived, huh? I had hoped you died under it."
Osric's voice was decidedly soft and could almost be mistaken for a murmur. However, how could the senses of Immortals be dull? They picked up on his words and almost immediately, their gazes couldn't help but sharpen.
Looking at the young man's rapid change in expression, they suddenly felt whatever had transpired between the two, wasn't anything they had the qualifications to know. In addition, it was not in their place to ask either.
Osric though, had already forgotten about the young man. Those he considered unimportant wouldn't exist more than a minute in his mind before he forgot about them.
In truth, in the past, Osric wouldn't have been rude to the young man even though he was a diehard fan of he saying: 'respect is reciprocal'.
Before his Awakening, the young man had clearly humiliated his parents even in their death, and yet, his overcautious mind had caused him not to give any reply. However, after his Awakening, he felt that side of him slipping away more and more.
Although, it wasn't necessarily bad, it wasn't necessarily good either. What if he bamboozled an existence that was leagues above him and end up dead in retaliation?
Although, Osric wasn't willing to admit it, a different part of his mind, a part completely foreign to him made him realize his overcautiousness was just a mask to cover up his apparent corwardice.
'Have I always been a corward, afraid to confront those who disrespect me, while I thought I was just being cautious?'
Osric thought, but in the end shook his head out of his thoughts. This wasn't the time to reflect on that.
He looked towards the other end of the arena and found Conrad taking his position there. His expression portrayed neither anxiety nor worry, but nonchalance and absolute confidence in his win.
However, Osric sighed. He knew if Conrad had been there when he awakened, he wouldn't have even dared to approach him, let alone challenge him.
But this was perfect though. Because, this way, Osric would be able to teach him a lesson.
"Are you both ready?"
A solemn voice suddenly sounded throughout the Battle Hall, and almost immediately, silence descended.
Osric's eyes couldn't help but narrow as he felt the subtle pressure from that voice. It wasn't anything an Immortal could replicate. He looked up, gazing at the old man that floated in his air.
Without a doubt, Conrad had somehow invited a Divine to overlook their battle today.
He exhaled, before proceeding to nod. Conrad nodded as well, giving the Divine the confirmation he needed.
"Alright. Then. Begi–"
"Wait!"
A delicate voice sounded abruptly. It seems to douse the whole Battle Hall in a holy lambence, bathing one in a purity rarely seen.
An equally delicate but tall beauty, wrapped in silk dress of colors gold and white walked into the Battle Hall with the gait of an Empress. Her existence alone seemed to command the respect of all that was present in the Battle Hall.
And for a moment, she was the center of attention until her next words stunned everyone out of their minds.
"Conrad. Since you were the challenger, don't you think it's a little inappropriate to challenge Osric without a reward to gain if he somehow wins?"