"If she's already so powerful, how about that guy in the center?" Bas thought out loud.
This middle-aged man had the atmosphere of a Hunt Expert, but he must be approaching the next rank. Otherwise, why would such a powerful lady stand at his back, reporting to him?
"However, how are these mortals so strong?" Bas didn't understand. The ambient ryms here were so thin! How did they formulate?
"This was definitely not the case in my era...mortals reaching Hunt Neophyte was excessively rare, let alone Hunt Expert. Has technology advanced to such an extent? Moreover, that man should be close to Grand Hunter, Fourth Class. How is that even possible?"
In this land where the ryms were so thin and brittle as if they barely existed, it would only be possible with a powerful hunter soul. There was a chance that the powerful hunter souls of Sebastian's generation would belong to the Pharaoh Gods that Bas was familiar with from his own era.
This was around when they should all have successfully reincarnated unless they died long after himself. Some would return as battle spirits thanks to the Portal of Osiris' magical powers, while others would return as djinn due to the unfortunate circumstances of their demise or their lack of formulation. Only Pharaoh Gods could enter the Portal of Osiris to bless their descendants with their power.
Most of them would never remember their past selves like Bas King, who became an exception thanks to his Skylord Everflame. The everflame held the concept of eternity.
'But why would Pharaoh Gods be reborn in the Mortal Realm?' Bas felt that was both unusual and incredibly unlikely.
The Skylord Everflame, or whatever it had become now, had kept Bas' pharaoh soul dormant instead of being assimilated into the soul of his descendant. Now, as a result, when the hunter soul was awakened, Bas assimilated the host soul instead.
'I wonder what changes the power of reincarnation has brought to my everflame exactly?' Bas wondered privately.
Reincarnation was an esoteric and monstrously unique power. Only the ancient Saints understood this power in depth.
"That man in the center is the one I told you about earlier, the controller of the Underground Battle League in Kennesaw Metropolis. No one dares to challenge his authority because he has the strength to back himself up. That's the famous underground legend, leader of Kennesaw's Underground Hunter Group, Sid Evans! He is undefeated, with a record of 699 battles. He claims to want to retire after his 700th victory and hand everything over to his daughter."
"699 straight victories? Not bad indeed," Bas smirked as he found this place far more interesting than the city above.
What a shame he had only just discovered it!
He needed to get his hands on a silver-grade battle token. Bas already finished appraising the one in his hand. This token was a unique rym tool, and once it reached the silver grade, its embedded unique skill, "camouflage," would become active. With "camouflage," Bas would no longer have to worry about his formula being discovered once he broke through to the Hunt Expert, Fourth Class.
To reach this level, Bas had to win more than 30 battles without being defeated. Alternatively, he could jump ranks and win ten battles. The choice seemed obvious...
"All right, now I'm pumped!" Bas' violet-gold eyes shined with a strange firelight. "Let's do it!"
🐉
"Fist of the Mighty Ape!"
"Hurricane Sweep!"
Crash.
After registering for the battles and hearing about the structure of these games, Bas was excited to start fighting. Inside the caged fighting ring were two Fifth Class hunters battling it out. A young lady with green hair, a sweet oval face, and striking eyes sent out a flurry of kicks at a red-haired young man with a freckled face who couldn't seem to build his momentum.
"It's a low-wood grade skill vs. a mid-wood grade skill. She is a little better since her mastery is much higher in comparison, even though her skill is slightly weaker." Bas rubbed his imaginary beard stubble.
The red-haired hunter used a mid-wood-grade skill, but his training was insufficient. Meanwhile, his opponent's low-wood-grade skill was trained to near perfection. This girl was a great martial artist.
"But ultimately, it's difficult for her to overcome the natural strength difference. They should stay about even unless she has something else up her sleeves."
"This masked little brother, are you also an enthusiast? Who is your favorite in this match?" said the husky voice of a LOUD girl with a round physique who suddenly bounced next to Bas on the bleachers. She was as cute as a baby pig and had big, round green eyes. "The name's Little Piggy. It's your honor, I'm sure."
"I'm actually here to fight," Bas wore an amused face hidden behind his mask.
Only his eyebrows gave away his expression as he observed this chubby little social butterfly. He had seen her bouncing around the arena trying to talk with people, though most of them ignored her and shooed her away. Bas was different because he knew no one would approach him due to his veiled appearance. The fact that this one had done so could only mean they were somehow fated.
Thus, he spoke, "I actually don't know much about either fighter, but I would think the girl will win in the end."
Little Piggy invited herself to Bas' party and started running her mouth as if she knew him from a past life, "Marsha Logan has a record of 12-7, which is pretty awesome. Would you believe I go to school with her? Well, I've seen her on the campus twice, anyway. Yeah, yeah, she's ranked 57th on the underground leader board for the Fifth Class. Her opponent, Marcus Bloom, is ranked 51st with a record of 19-9. He's famed for his Mighty Ape Record, a max-wood-grade Hunt Rym Record. I hear he's trained his wood grade skill to the basic level.
"What about you? What is your ranking?" Bas knew this chick was a hunter with a glance.
She was a sixth-level Hunt Neophyte, more powerful than Bas expected.
"I'm ranked 97th with a record of 4-15, hehe," giggled Little Piggy. Bas nearly fell over after hearing this. Was it actually so bad? Little Piggy didn't notice anything and chirped, "This little brother, what rank are you?"
"Rank 113," Bas stated indifferently.
In fact, he hadn't fought yet. His ranking was sure to rise by the end of the day.
"Wah?! Doesn't that mean you haven't even fought yet?" asked Little Piggy, frantically checking the automated pamphlet in her hand. "Ah, I see. Bazzy Dagod, hehe. How goofy yet domineering. So your next match will be your very first time fighting another hunter, right?"
"No. Well, yes. Anyway, how could you tell?" asked Bas, a little surprised at the girl's accurate presumption.
Bas had participated in countless battles, but they were all relics of the past. In this life, his last fight ended in tragedy. Answering yes was the most suitable response.
"There are only 100 Ranks on the Underground Leader Board. All those who rank beyond 100 haven't fought yet. Otherwise, they would rank on the leaderboard," replied Little Piggy matter-of-factly. "You can only challenge someone within 10 ranks of your own. That means you have to challenge someone else who hasn't fought first before challenging one of us 90s rankers."
Bas smiled wryly. Listening to Little Piggy made it sound like being ranked at the bottom was glorious. However, Bas wasn't even on the board yet, so he had no right to judge her.
Marsha used her lower body strength in the battle cage to grip Marcus' neck between her muscular thighs and tightened the scissor-lock. He thrashed against her, desperate for an opening in her ryms, but could not break free. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his eyes rolled back in a mix of pain and exhaustion.
His face turned bright red before his body went limp. With one final tap on her calf, he submitted for defeat—unable to voice the words due to the tightness of her hold.
"Winner, Marsha Logan, Rank 51st!" said the old man battle announcer as he held up the victor's arm.
The crowd cheered and booed her equally as she flicked her green hair and glared at her opponent disdainfully. She seemed about to withdraw from the battle cage.
Bas stood up, and Little Piggy glanced at him in bewilderment.
"You can't do that. They're above your rank!" cried Little Piggy anxiously.
"I know another way to advance quickly," Bas winked at Little Piggy, who was just about to protest more. But before she had a chance, she heard Bas shouting, "ISSA FLUKE! Marsha only won because she let him taste it! She might as well have poisoned him! She could never defeat a real warrior."
Bas had decided that this "Bazzy" pseudonym would behave tyrannically like a monster in human form. He would express the inner asshole he constantly kept in check during normal times.
Actually, this was Bas' default personality before Sebastian's remnant will began to influence him.
Sure enough, Marsha's steps abruptly stopped, her eyes sharp and venomous as she stared back at this scourge, Bas.
Her face darkened when she noticed his rym formula was the same as her own, Eighth Level Hunt Foundation, Fifth Class. He had reached the sky foundation as well, but so what? Did he think he could defeat her like that? Everyone in the Top 50 was at the Sky Foundation level. Her soul power had already reached level ten, and she didn't believe this chump's soul power had even reached level eight. It would take much more than a solid formula base to climb the ranks.
"Scram your ass the fuck down here," spat Marsha angrily as she pointed right at Bas, turning her head to the referee tables. "Ref, I want this dead bitch next, let's start the fight."
Bas smirked at the dumbfounded Little Piggy before he nonchalantly swaggered down the bleachers. Little Piggy looked on in disbelief.
"Well, there goes my new friend..."