After seeing the two fighters clearly under the lights, the auditorium erupted into a frenzy.
"Everyone has been waiting, and now I will introduce our two respected hosts. First, from the east, guarding the 223rd floor of Heavens Arena, Hankloda!"
Accompanied by the girl's introduction, a tall, muscular man with a bare chest stood under the spotlight on the east side, posing dramatically, soaking in the attention and praise of the crowd.
"And next, from the west, guarding the 231st floor, Thatcher!"
Under the same light, a slender, refined gentleman in a tuxedo gave a slight bow to the audience, performing a flawless aristocratic salute.
"I don't need to go over their past achievements. Now, let's welcome the two Floor Masters onto the stage!"
As if gunpowder had been ignited, the crowd's cheers surged through the venue like waves.
Amidst the roar of the audience, the two Floor Masters slowly walked onto the arena.
After confirming there were no mistakes, the referee crossed his hands in the air and announced the start of the match.
"Boom!"
Immediately after the referee's call, the fists of the two Floor Masters collided with immense force, creating a series of sonic booms.
"Who do you think will win between the two?" Bisky asked as she turned toward Ronnel.
"Based on the video of their previous battles, I think Thatcher has a higher chance of winning."
After pondering for a moment, Ronnel gave his answer.
Hearing this, Bisky nodded approvingly. "It seems you've made a lot of progress these days. You're looking sharp."
"It's all thanks to the master's teachings," Ronnel replied modestly.
"Enough with the flattery! If you've got that kind of skill, you might as well buy me two more diamonds~"
. . .
On the battlefield, as the two Floor Masters continued to clash, the intensity of their fight only grew, driving the excitement in the crowd to new heights.
Eventually, at the peak of their battle, both fighters revealed their weapons. One drew a slender sword, while the other wielded an ancient copper knife. Both weapons were cloaked in thick layers of Nen, brimming with power.
Although Bisky wasn't particularly impressed with the fighters, she had to admit that the Subai school was one of the top martial arts schools in the world, and its techniques in both hand-to-hand and weapon combat were commendable.
Moreover, the two fighters were undeniably strong—good contenders even among skilled Nen-users.
But could they really pose a challenge after just six months of training?
After observing for a while, Ronnel felt that three months would have been more than enough for him to surpass them.
He wasn't overconfident. Thanks to his Gravekeeper's Grasp Nen, his power and control over Nen were increasing daily. On top of that, he had the guidance of a renowned master like Bisky, who taught him advanced Nen techniques, and his own exceptional talent.
As the battle below raged on, Ronnel watched, unimpressed by the fighters but intrigued by their weapons. A powerful weapon could be a great asset to any Nen-user.
He began thinking about when he could find some time to look for a suitable weapon for himself~
As the match wore on and the fighters' stamina waned, their once explosive attacks started to slow. But both Ronnel and Wing knew that battles often hinged on the smallest mistakes, especially in the late stages. A single misstep could decide the victor.
Just like in a game, where a carefully built strategy can be toppled by a single decisive move at the very end.
Sure enough, after their energy had all but depleted, and they were too exhausted to hold onto their weapons, the physically stronger Hankloda faltered slightly, his footing unstable.
Thatcher seized the opportunity. With a swift, decisive move, he used the technique Ronnel knew all too well—Throat Smash—and struck Hankloda's throat.
In a battle like this, where the philosophies of both sides clashed, the result could only be determined by life or death.
With a sharp sound, Hankloda clutched his throat and collapsed, his eyes gradually losing their light.
Finally, the victorious Thatcher sighed in relief and dropped to the ground, exhausted to the point of passing out.
As the winner was declared, the audience erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, all for Thatcher.
As for the fallen Hankloda, no one cared for him, save for the few gamblers who had bet on him and now cursed his name.
Even his former supporters and fans had shifted their loyalty to Thatcher.
The only ones who mourned his loss were those in the Subai School he represented. Many there would likely harbor resentment for the shame his defeat brought upon them.
As most people in the audience continued applauding for Thatcher, Ronnel slowly stood up from his seat.
"Where are you going?" Bisky asked, noticing his movements.
"To help someone with a corpse disposal," Ronnel replied with a grin, his gaze fixated on Hankloda's lifeless body.
This was the corpse of a Floor Master-level fighter, much stronger than an average Nen-user. The rewards for this would surely be immense.
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