The Golden Lion Coliseum had special rooms dedicated for nobles to rest.
Milton Cheney and William had been living in the coliseum for the past few days.
During daytime, Milton participated in three friendly duels as per usual.
He didn't refrain from participating more out of unwillingness, rather there was a rigid rule that one could only participate in three matches per day.
Milton's practical fighting skills were noticeably improving at a rapid pace.
Even William couldn't help but admire his talent.
Lionheart, a nickname for Milton, had now become well-known in the Golden Lion Coliseum.
After all, Milton had participated in 16 friendly duels and had yet to lose one.
After shedding his armor in the changing room, Milton put on his coat again.
Stepping out of the dressing room, he walked down the circular corridor.
Having just finished participating in a friendly duel, Milton was prepared to get something to eat.
The next moment, a man approached and bumped straight into Milton, seeming oblivious to his presence.
Milton furrowed his brows and instinctively tried to dodge, but he was still hit squarely.
The collision of the two shoulders produced a dull and significant thud.
"Intentional."
That was Milton's immediate thought.
He looked up to see a man whose face held a somewhat gloomy expression.
"I recognize you; the famous 'Lionheart' who's making a name for himself lately.
What bullshit 'Friendly Duels', only kids would enjoy such games, especially pretty boys like you!"
The man's malice was blatantly displayed.
His tone and gaze conveyed undisguised contempt.
Milton, who sensed something was off, was perplexed as he wasn't someone who made a habit of offending people in the Golden Lion Coliseum.
He didn't think of himself as the type to get provoked out of the blue.
After all, such a thing had never happened since he started visiting the Coliseum.
This man was obviously targeting him.
It was premeditated, and his objective was presumably to provoke him.
Milton wondered if his recent winning streak might have upset someone's interests.
"Kid, quit the bullshit. Let's see if you have the guts to step onto the Arena of Life and Death. Do you dare?"
The gloomy-faced man assumed Milton was scared into silence, and his tone became more merciless.
Hearing these words, Milton's heart turned cold.
An icy killing intent rose unknowingly in his heart, but his expression remained unchanged.
Because in his heart, this man standing before him was as good as dead, regardless of who was backing him.
Now he was sure that this man's purpose was to provoke him into participating in the Deathmatch Duel.
"I'm going to bust your mouth, then kill you."
Milton's voice sounded calmly.
He didn't bother asking who had sent him; the typical idiotic question in such circumstances.
Since whoever was backing this man wanted him to participate in the Deathmatch Duel, Milton would grant them their wish.
He only wondered if whoever was behind this was ready to bear the consequences.
Milton was not a patient man who subscribed to the idea of waiting ten years to avenge. In fact, he wasn't much of a gentleman at all.
His principle was simple; take revenge at all costs, morning and evening.
Upon achieving his goal, the man did not continue to provoke Milton. Instead, he looked at Milton somewhat pitifully:
"I hope your fists are as tough as your mouth in the arena!"
Milton, of course, didn't act impulsively by signing up for the Deathmatch Duel right away. Instead, he first reported the incident to William.
After hearing about it, William's expression didn't change a bit. He just nodded lightly, agreeing with Milton's decision to participate in the Deathmatch Duel.
But being close to William, Milton could clearly sense the change in his mentor.
The atmosphere turned cold and grim in an instant.
Milton Cheney wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but he thought he could even smell blood in the air.
If Milton had to describe what William looked like at this moment, he thought he looked like a lone wolf, a lone wolf covered in scars.
Aggressive dogs don't bark, and wolves are no different.
A wolf can rip the flesh off your bones without making a sound, then crush your bones to pieces.
Milton didn't forget William's nickname, [Greedy Wolf Knight]!
"Young Master, go ahead, I'll be watching from the stands.
Rest assured, the only outcome of this deathmatch duel will be his death, no other outcome. As for the man behind him, hehe..."
William began to speak softly, his words accompanied by a lick of his lips.
Registering for the deathmatch duel was more complicated than registering for a friendly duel. Not only was the process more complicated, but one had to sign their name on the Death Warrant.
After signing his name, Milton silently returned to the changing room.
Instead of donning armor, he removed his outer robe and put on the unique outfit reserved for deathmatch duels.
This outfit left his upper body entirely bare, with no protection whatsoever.
And since weapons were not allowed in deathmatch duels, the only thing Milton could rely on were his fists.
Milton closed his eyes, and memories of hand-to-hand combat began to surface in his mind.
Milton was even more proficient in unarmed combat than he was in archery, reaching an impressive proficient level.
He let out a soft sigh, but there was a burning fire in his heart that he just couldn't extinguish.
Indeed, the sudden surge in strength and the suppression of his own power in battle had caused some pressure to build up within Milton.
If these feelings were not released in time, they could even have an impact on Milton's mental health.
It's like when a person suddenly gains power, their first thought is often to destroy, to commit a crime, to vent.
In Milton's previous life, there was a saying: "A hero uses his martial arts to break the law." It perfectly described this situation.
The power that the Simulator had imbued Milton with was also sudden; it wasn't something he had cultivated day by day. So naturally, Milton had these thoughts to some extent.
Agreeing to this deathmatch duel was also partly for this reason.
Even without this man's sudden provocation, Milton might still have signed up for the deathmatch duel within a few days.
The door to the changing room was knocked and a respectful voice sounded.
"Mr. Lionheart, you have been assigned to the third arena for the deathmatch duel. Your opponent is Mr. Scythe."
Milton opened the door of the changing room, nodded and followed the attendant's lead.
......
"'Lionheart'! How come he's entered the deathmatch duel? Hasn't he always participated in friendly duels?"
"He doesn't know what he's getting himself into. Friendly duels and deathmatch duels are completely different. It seems that 'Lionheart' will only be a flash in the pan."
"His body is so good; I wonder what he's like in bed..."
As Milton stepped onto the arena platform, the spectator stands became somewhat noisy.
Due to Milton's consecutive wins in the friendly duels over several days, many spectators had a deep impression of the man nicknamed "Lionheart".
Whispers echoed around the audience, as if trying to discover something from each other's faces.
Because it wasn't far away, Milton could naturally hear these murmurs.
Milton's gaze instinctively sought out William in the front row.
William sat calmly in the front, nodding slightly as he met Milton's gaze.
Milton turned his gaze back to the dark figure before him.
"Just as I thought, a premeditated deathmatch duel."
Keep in mind that the opponents in a deathmatch duel are randomly selected.
This man had just provoked him, and now he was the opponent in his deathmatch duel. Milton didn't believe this was a coincidence.
The man before him wore a triumphant, sinister smile on his face.
The way he looked at Milton was like a hunter eyeing his prey.
At this moment, Milton also bared his teeth in a smile.
His smile was filled with an inexplicable and brutal feeling.
"Do you think I'm the prey? Well, let's see if you, the hunter, can withstand my tusks!"