The Gladiatorial Arena's private box, through special design, is hidden from the view of the ordinary audience seats located below.
Veronica kicked off her high heels, sitting sideways in Laine's arms, leaning against his chest. The witch had spent a lot of effort meticulously planning and thinking last night, leaving her spirit not in the best condition.
She needed to complete this task as soon as possible to prove she was stronger than Beatrice.
Fortunately, she had a warm harbor by her side. In Laine's embrace, she could lower her guard, let go of her burdens, and allow herself to relax a little.
The woman covered her ears in annoyance, "My God, it's so noisy. Next time you come to this place, come alone. I won't be coming again."
"Learn to endure, learn to stay calm~ Veronica, sometimes the affairs of the outside world won't change according to the will of just one person. You need to coexist peacefully with the noise." Laine gently hugged the woman in his arms who was as soft as a cat while looking at the situation in the arena. "Lops truly deserves the title of Lord of Mosheen, Hyde's son. Well done."
"Oh? I just see him getting beaten?" Veronica wasn't interested in these duels. She let the man take liberties with her silk-stockinged legs. "Can you enlighten a woman who knows nothing about this? My Great Knight?"
"Let me put it this way. One's stamina is like a well, consisting of two indicators: the total amount of water and the size of the bucket," Laine explained softly. "The total amount of water represents a person's physical limit, but it doesn't mean a well's water can always be used until it's dry, because the amount of water drawn in a short time is limited, depending on the bucket's size."
"Which means stamina is subject to a brief limitation in the short term. Any strong person will face a bottleneck after a series of continuous, furious attacks, needing to draw water again from the well. So, we knights have a special course in our training—how to find our own rhythm and avoid the negative effects when facing a stamina bottleneck. Clearly, Lops has also learned this course. He's carefully distributing his stamina, waiting for Bennett's stamina to dwindle." Laine's gaze was fixed on the arena. "This opportunity will come soon. Look, in less than ten seconds, Lops will counterattack."
Indeed, as Laine said, the continuous slashing rapidly drained Bennett's stamina. Though Lops's wooden shield was already battered, the Wandering Knight still retained some stamina. Sensing the weakening slashes, Lops knew the opportunity had come. The Wandering Knight roared and struck the lower part of Bennett's wooden sword and the weak spot of his arm with all his might.
The decline in stamina and the numbness in his arm caused Bennett, nicknamed "Butcher," to lose control of his body. Under the fierce blow of the wooden shield, his sore and weak hand could no longer hold the wooden sword, forcing him to halt his offensive.
Thus, Lops's opportunity arrived.
The Wandering Knight directly threw his wooden shield, the flying shield hitting Bennett's helmet. The towering Gladiator staggered backward a few steps. Lops switched to gripping the long halberd with both hands and initiated a whirlwind-like series of strikes.
The wooden long halberd swept across, striking just at the juncture between Bennett's shoulder armor and helmet. The solid wooden halberd inflicted surprisingly severe damage to the human body. Bennett, with a neck wound, immediately launched a counterattack against Lops.
His strong arms gripped the wooden sword tightly, chopping down from above Lops. Lops quickly lifted the long halberd to intercept, as the pressure from the wooden sword made the long halberd slightly bend.
"Watch me!" With both hands raised, Lops expertly employed his technique. He used the elasticity of the long halberd and the pressure from Bennett's wooden sword to rebound, sending the wooden sword flying with a single flick of the halberd.
"Long Halberd Linked Attack!" Laine observed Lops's actions and murmured to himself.
The first vertical strike of the long halberd in Lops's hands hit the top of Bennett's head. Even through the helmet, the spectators in the arena could see Bennett's weakness from his painful cries and retreating form.
The second vertical strike of the long halberd hit Bennett's head again. Under the Wandering Knight's relentless attack, everyone could see the red liquid flowing inside the helmet, and everyone was sure—it was definitely not watermelon juice.
The duel concluded with a sweeping strike following the second vertical strike. As the long halberd swept across, Bennett fell heavily to the ground, ending the duel. Lops stood up, and a doctor immediately entered the arena to treat both him and Bennett.
"The duel is over! Today's winner is Lops, the Wandering Knight from Nord Kingdom! Let's give him a round of applause!" The arena's manager, Geliza Storm Hammer, walked forward with a hearty laugh, awarding the trophy to Lops and announcing his victory. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel{f}ire.net
"Thank you!" Lops accepted the trophy and his commission amid applause. The confident Wandering Knight had even placed a bet on himself, which earned him quite a bit. After receiving the trophy, he waved excitedly at Laine, who waved back in return.
"Can you sense Belte's presence?" Veronica lifted her head from Laine's embrace. "I didn't sense anything."
"Neither did I." Laine shook his head. But the man wasn't disappointed: "Belte is much stronger. These small fries won't lure him out. Patience. If Belte is really hiding in the Gladiatorial Arena, watching Lops's winning streak, he won't remain indifferent."