Observing Zephyrion's uneasy gestures as he walked away, Rylan turned to the matchmaker and offered an apologetic remark. "Don't mind his attitude, lady Evadne. I think he struggles with conversing with strangers."
"Hahaha, why would I take it to heart? You don't need to tell me about his situation, I can sense it through his gestures."
"Alright, Lady Evadne, we'll catch up later," Rylan called out, then hurriedly followed Zephyrion.
The instant he catch up with him, Zephyrion wasted no time to inquired, "Who is that woman, and how powerful is she?"
Rylan smiled knowingly, he had already anticipate this kind of questions from Zephyrion, given how the woman had revealed many of his hidden qualities. "That woman is the colosseum's matchmaker, her name is Evadne, and she's at the artisan stage of mage art."
Zephyrion was puzzled, "If she's at the artisan stage, why did I feel like she is as ordinary as those we met at the entrance?"
"Hehehe," Rylan chuckled slightly. "Please don't compare Lady Evadne to those two. Although they share the same stage in their respective arts, Lady Evadne is over fourty years old and has amassed a wealth of battle experience over the years. Even in the last war against other races, she played a significant role and instilled fear in opponents of the same stage. Nearly all vampires and werewolves at her level avoid clashing with her. After all, who wants to face an opponent who can predict their next move two seconds ahead?"
Zephyrion was astonished, someone who could anticipate their opponent's next moves two seconds in advance? This is surely an undoubtedly problematic person to fight with, such a skill could be immensely frustrating for anyone facing her, making it nearly impossible to land a blow.
While two seconds might seem brief, in the heat of battle, it could make a significant difference. A minor mistake or delay could lead to someone's demise.
Yet, Zephyrion was certain that this skill had its limitations, no skill in this world was without flaws.
"Hmm, if she's that powerful, why is she working as a matchmaker in this colosseum? Shouldn't she supposed to be associated with the SBP now?" Zephyrion inquired.
"This... Well, I don't have all the details, but I overheard some discussions. It seems that after the last war, Lady Evadne requested a break from the SBP and chose to work here as a matchmaker.
Upon hearing Rylan's explanation, Zephyrion nodded and refrained from asking further questions.
As the two walked, about to change their path towards the fighters' lobby, Zephyrion couldn't resist casting one last glance at the place where the woman had been.
However, the moment he turned his head, he instantly regretted it. He felt as though a hundred eyes were starting at him from various angles, a scary and uncomfortable sensation that prompted him to quicken his pace.
His intuition proved correct, Lady Evadne had indeed been watching them even though they had walked some distance.
Then, suddenly...
PUFFFF!
Lady Evadne instantly coughed out blood, her face turning pale, this was the consequence of her failed clairvoyance skill earlier. She had been suppressing the blood since the skill's failure to avoid arousing suspicion from Rylan and Zephyrion. But now that they were out of sight, she could no longer contain it.
"This kid seems off, something about him feels strange," the woman muttered softly as she used her sleeve to wipe away the blood at the corner of her lips.
Although this wasn't the first time her skill had failed, as her clairvoyance abilities was rendered completely useless against individuals stronger than her or those with skills countering hers.
But what is the meaning of her skill failing to work on a mere early outer stage martial?
~~~~~~~
Three hours had slipped away since Zephyrion's arrival at the colosseum. Currently, he and Rylan were seated together with Gavric in the bustling fighters lobby.
Fighters lobby? Zephyrion had learnt that this lobby was built differently for the fighters. It is a place where the fighters can relax and watch ongoing battle without sitting like the regular spectators.
There is a large screen that show the ongoing battle.
"Hmmm," Zephyrion sighed, his gaze wandering around the lobby, a hint of boredom tugging at him. He'd been patiently waiting for his match since registering, but numerous battles were queued ahead of his.
Having observed numerous battles in the arena, he had gained insight into the workings of this place and the unforgiving ruthlessness nature of combat. Over the past hours, he'd bombard Rylan and Gavric with questions about the colosseum.
In this arena, winning a fight held no tangible rewards unless you defied the odds and actually won against someone stronger than you in martial or magical prowess. Gavric had clarified that while defeating a stronger opponent was quite common, those who achieved it were often wealthy individuals with superior weaponry or specialized combat techniques.
Nobody was willing to risk battling someone stronger than them solely for a reward, what if they got defeated, and their enraged opponent decided to show no mercy, severing all their limbs and hands?
In this world, it was seen as humiliating and disrespectful for weaker individuals to challenged someone stronger.
So, if you insist on fighting someone stronger in this colosseum, just make sure that your healing pills are ready at hand, because definitely, your opponent won't be merciful or hesitate to cut all your limbs in case of a defeat.
Even with the availability of healing pills, no one wished to experience the excruciating pain of losing limbs.
Zephyrion had a strong intuition that the spectators in the stands were either stagnant mages and martial artists who had hit a dead end in their respective stages and can't cultivate further or individuals from poor backgrounds, who were unable to afford healing pills, making them reluctant to risk their limbs participating in arena battles. Thus, they chose to abstain from combat and decided to be spectators instead.
"ATTENTION TO ALL WARRIORS IN THE LOBBY, THE NEXT BATTLE COMBATANTS WILL BE ANNOUNCED NOW!"
"STEELSLICER, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE NORTH GATE. AND... CAPTAIN SWORDY... THE ASS SMACKER, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE SOUTHERN GATE!!"
A voice, Zephyrion unmistakably recognise as Lady Evadne's, resonated through the lobby, capturing the fighters' collective attention.
"Captain Swordy the Ass Smacker? Who in the world registered such a whimsical battle name?" Zephyrion mused, scanning the lobby to spot the fighter walking for the southern gate.
Even lady Evadne's tone faltered when she wanted to announce it.
Zephyrion wasn't alone, nearly every fighter in the lobby craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the individual behind this ridiculous childish name.
Though Zephyrion's voice wasn't particularly loud, it reached the ears of the two boys sitting beside him. Gavric shifted his gaze toward Rylan and instinctively distanced himself.
Observing someone standing beside him, Zephyrion couldn't resist asking, "Rylan, are you one of the fighters being called out? Are you SteelSlicer? That's quite a cool battle name."
"No... I'm the other one," Rylan replied, embarrassment apparent in his stiff voice.
"What the f*ck! You're the one with such a whimsical battle name?"
Rylan's suddenly become annoyed, and through clenched teeth, he retorted, "My battle name isn't whimsical, it's the coolest name ever. In the future, people will chant my name with envy, wishing they had such a name."
Zephyrion was momentarily rendered speechless. "Really, Captain Swordy? Ass Smacker? Is that how you'll be remembered in the world?" Zephyrion couldn't find his words as he watched Rylan walk past him with pride, head held high, heading toward the lobby door.
The other fighters in the lobby immediately locate Rylan and look at him strangely, regarded him with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.
As Rylan confidently strutted toward the southern gate, his head held high and sword in hand, he couldn't help but overhear the hushed whispers and stifled giggles from the other fighters in the lobby.
"Captain Swordy the Ass Smacker, huh?" one fighter snickered.
"Sounds like he's fighting with his rear end instead of a sword," another chimed in loudly, prompting a burst of laughter admist the combatants.
Zephyrion couldn't contain his amusement and whispered to Gavric, "I hope he doesn't smack himself in the ass with that sword!"
Gavric simply chuckled, a touch of awkwardness in his laughter as he chose to stayed silent. Rylan's battle name? Well, he's the reason why Rylan ended up registering it.
Once a time, they placed a wager, the prize being the right to choose the other's battle name. Alas, Rylan found himself on the losing side, and as you might have guess, the outcome is clear.
Rylan couldn't bear it anymore, now within earshot of these comments, clenched his fists and muttered under his breath, "Gavric, see what you have cause, making me lose face like this, I'm not done with you!"
It wasn't the first time his battle name had become the source of laughter. Every time his name was announced, it never failed to produce chuckles from the lobby, and even the arena's spectators couldn't help but join in the fun.
The lobby continued to buzz with laughter and playful jabs as Rylan made his way to the southern gate, some fighters even turned their gaze to check out his ass, wondering if it was really his ass that inspired him to use such moniker as battle name.