Thrax absorbed the advice of his master and looked at Kieran with a silent nod.

His opinion was pretty much the same. Rather than make necessary preparations for a real threat, he was called upon to participate in this traditional round, also known as the Champion's Round.

The Champion's Round's purpose was to provide one lucky person insight. The insight was broad, such as shedding light upon the power of the previous generation, revealing aspects one could improve oneself in, and unveiling the traditional task of a Champion.

A Champion should serve as a role model for the future generation, which is why every Champion's Round was unique, adopting the name of the former Champion's title.

This year it would be called the Herculean Round, a representation of Thrax's moniker.

Kieran locked eyes with Thrax across the platform, gazing at him indifferently and strangely.

A peculiar glint flashed through Kieran's eyes as Retaliatory Sense hummed inside his mind. The outcome was something unfamiliar to Kieran because the ability would usually activate in a quick burst.

The sustained droning made Kieran question its meaning. 'Could my senses be alerting me that I've stepped into the presence of a predator? But, if that were true, the same effect should have occurred during my fight against Ronan and Bracca. No it's something else.'

General Zieg noticed Kieran's peculiar gaze and interpreted it as questioning why he must go against an absurd opponent.

"The chasm in strength has always been large during this round, but having you win is not our intent. Your objective is to last ten minutes while extracting crucial knowledge from your opponent. Succeed, and you will become this year's Champion."

'Endure for ten minutes?' Kieran inwardly muttered. His expression sank because he felt doing so would be incredibly difficult. Why? Because he received important information regarding Thrax's strength.

Lv.60 Thrax, The Herculean Mountain (Titled Epic NPC)

Class: Herculean Monk

Health: ??? (100%)

Affiliation: War Deity Council

'A Monk' Kieran thought.

A Monk was a specialized path of a Fighter, particularly a Pugilist. They were known for their incredibly swift actions, which betrayed their size and the fact they wielded devastating striking power.

Monks were a somewhat unfathomable existence because it was a path inaccessible without diligence. And because his opponent possessed a further refined version, Kieran couldn't see himself stretching this match to ten minutes.

If Kieran's destructive power was considered his forte, then speed was his secondary forte. What remained if we removed both factors? His resiliency, which in this case, didn't seem particularly helpful.

"Can we begin already? I'd much rather spend my time elsewhere," Thrax said in a brusque tone. His tone, while offensive, didn't pass the line of no respect, so General Zieg could only frown in response.

Instead of starting as per Thrax's brusque request, General Zieg sought Kieran's opinion. He was well aware that Kieran's current condition was far from ideal.

"Are you prepared to take on this Herculean Round? I will tell you this nowThrax is a genuine Advanced Being with experience in wielding the powers accessible to the stage. In this situation, the prudent choice would be wise," General Zieg said.

Kieran forced a smile as he shook his head.

If he backed out now, wouldn't that be the opposite of upholding his True Berserker legacy to the fullest extent? During their training, Scar had drilled into Kieran's mind that a True Berserker could not retreat from challenge and adversity.

A weakness in one's spirit was the perfect vulnerability for Argexes' Blood to target. Thus, Kieran gave the only acceptable answer. "I'm committed to seeing this through till the bitter end."

Even if he failed, at least his display of courage would fulfill Scar's terms of the bet. He didn't back down despite the strength of his opponent.

"Very well," General Zieg said with a solemn nod. However, he couldn't begin this round without making the proper preparations. "Commander Caecus, please alert the medical staff to be on immediate standby to render emergency aid."

"Understood," Caecus said up above. One of his abilities involved an extraordinary manipulation of Mana that most of the Warrior and Fighter paths couldn't grasp.

The invalid nature of Caecus' eyes heightened his perception of Mana in the other four categories.

A byproduct of this heightening was the ability to speak through Mana despite not being a Seer, a specialized path that had a critical support role on the battlefield.

Once the message was sent and Caecus verified it was delivered and accepted with extreme attentiveness, General Zieg allowed the match's commencement.

"You may begin. Best of luck to you, Challenger Aatrox. Remember, even if you fail, your prize is secured. You will simply lose all right to your additional prize," General Zieg said, reminding Kieran of his stakes.

It was a way to indirectly tell Kieran not to put his life on the line. In the end, the War Deity Exchanges was nothing more than a glorified marketplace that could be accessed later if needed.

"I appreciate the warning and concern, General Ziegyou are a remarkable person. However, I never walk into a battle without any intention of giving it my all. That's how unfortunate turns of events arise," Kieran said, turning his back to General Zieg afterward.

He stood a few meters away from Thrax, who cracked their fist and neck with a bored expression.

Kieran knew Thrax looked down upon him as an inferior opponent, which was understandable given his high level. But Kieran felt Thrax was misinformed since he hadn't witnessed the events that transpired a few seconds prior to his arrival.

Nevertheless, Kieran would give it his all regardless of Thrax's opinion.

"Begin," General Zieg called out. His eyes hid concern and regret, feeling that Kieran should be a near-empty vessel at this point. He could only imagine how draining that Soul Trait's activation was.

The moment the match started, Thrax summoned an immense metal gauntlet that gave off an oppressive feeling. Contrary to Kieran's expectations, only one gauntlet appeared, covering Thrax's right hand.

The gauntlet was shaped like a roaring lion with two bright gems existing as its eyes. An earthen glow surrounded the gems as space quivered from the pressure.

As soon as this gauntlet appeared, Kieran's pupils contracted. Without analyzing the weapon, he verified one thing. This gauntlet wasn't an Epic Weapon or a Legendary Weaponit was a Legacy Armament.

Before Kieran could react, he felt his world turn grey as a mountainous pressure crushed his shoulders, restricting his ability to move.

The next moment, Thrax struck his weapon-equipped hand down like a chopping hammer.

"Herculean Might: Compressed Demolition!"

A herculean pressure billowed toward Kieran's body at a disturbing angle. The atmosphere cowered before the attack's might as a condensed cluster of yellowish-orange energy collided against the left side of Kieran's body.

Crunch!

The sound of numerous bones breaking resounded, leaving everyone appalled.

Even Scar clutched his seat until the armrest shattered, and the entire chair exploded into a fine dust. That strike just now was something not even some of Thrax's peers could handle.

Why would he use such disturbing force?

It was a known fact that the Champion Round existed to gradually increase pressure and extract the most potential from this year's winner without jeopardizing their future. The logic of this round was: to strike the iron while it was hot.

However, Thrax's attack didn't abide by that unspoken rule.

Thrax especially should understand the meaning of leniency. The Champion he went against was one of the council's most monstrous talentsAggregor.

While his talent was inferior to Ronan in terms of understanding his power's essence, Aggregor's physical might was unmatched. If he had executed his final attack, Thrax would have ended up crippled.

General Zieg begrudgingly turned his head after sensing a boundless sense of murder emanating from his backside. Half of the Gladiator's Coliseum was filled with an oppressive pressure that made breathing difficult.

Scar's crimson eyes flashed with indescribable fury as his gaze shifted from Thrax to the quiet High Commander Igris standing not too far away.

High Commander Igris could sense the malice directed toward him and lifted his head to meet Scar's murderous gaze. Under his slender helmet, Igris' lips curved into a cruel smile undetectable to all.

However, Scar could see the smile within Igris' minacious eyes.

But, rather than focus his fury on Igris for the moment, he examined Kieran's injury from far away. The attack had destroyed a large portion of Kieran's left side, leaving a gash so deep his arm remained attached by a few durable tendons.

Because of the pressure that locked him in place, Kieran couldn't fall despite enduring excruciating pain. But putting aside the matter of his body, Kieran was confounded by his Health.

It was literally one.

Kieran wasn't sure if this phenomenon resulted from the competition's special conditions or another inexplicable reason, but he didn't feel the threat of death.

In place of that sensation, Kieran felt unbridled fury, one violent enough to sunder the world. They wanted to kill him?!

Before Thrax's attack arrived, Kieran sensed sinister intent filled with treachery. Although they were in the same organization, this fool wanted to claim his life.

The gall required to perform a foolish action like this was unthinkable.

Kieran lifted his head after great difficulty and looked at Thrax.

The pressure encasing his body suddenly disappeared, and it was not Thrax's doing. Kieran's sclera adopted a demonic black color while his eyes turned a ravenous crimson color.

Kieran's already pale countenance blanched further as he lifted his right hand to the repugnant wound on his left shoulder, chest, and ribcage and spoke a phrase that practically stopped everyone's hearts.

"Aspect: Ruinous Negation!"

***