CHAPTER 58: REFEREE’S DILEMMA

Time flew by until the last batch of contestants wrapped up their fights.

With a booming bell toll, the announcer’s voice rang throughout the colosseum:

"Round One is in the books! Congratulations to the 273 contestants who made it through!"

"Those who advanced get four hours to catch their breath.

After four hours, Round Two kicks off!"

The colosseum rumbled again as the arena platforms slowly sank underground until they vanished completely.

The crowd buzzed with chatter:

"273 people! Look at all these kids who made the cut!"

"Hot damn!

After all these years of peace and quiet, this new generation’s got way more talent than we ever had!"

"Ha! There were plenty of hotshots who took down those Corruption Wolves single-handed. Looks like Ember City’s comeback is just getting started!"

"You got that right, especially little Carlos from the Valois bunch—that kid’s got the makings of a powerhouse we haven’t seen in a hundred... no, a thousand years!"

"..."

...

In the winners’ rest area, everyone had their own little booth. Most were busy patching up wounds and getting their strength back, gearing up for round two.

Carlos was going through the booklet his sister Iris had specially given him, running through Round Two strategies over and over in his head.

"This should work, right? There’s no rule saying I can’t pull this off, is there?"

Carlos wasn’t completely sure, but figured he’d give it a shot anyway.

Even if it flopped, he could always fall back on the same old methods everyone else was using.

"Dong!"

A mighty bell chimed.

Carlos tucked away the booklet, threw on the specially made shirt he’d prepared ahead of time, and headed out with the rest.

Break time was over—Round Two was about to get underway!

...

"Round Two: Crimson Maze!"

As the announcer’s voice boomed across the venue, intense rumbling filled the arena.

Under the excited stares of the crowd, the ground shook as towering, solid stone walls shot up from the surface, eventually forming one heck of a complicated maze.

The folks in the stands, looking down from above, could see clear as day that this Crimson Maze had twisting, turning paths all over the place, with plenty of routes leading to dead ends.

At tons of crossroads, nasty dark mist monsters were chained up, blocking the contestants’ way forward.

Even crazier was that the stone walls deeper in the maze actually moved around.

Every minute, they’d shift and rearrange themselves, making it ten times harder for contestants to navigate the maze.

Finally, the maze only had four ways out, each one guarded by a terrifying Fallen Flame Tiger.

Once someone took down a Fallen Flame Tiger guard and made it through, that exit would slam shut for good.

This meant only four contestants could make it to the next round!

Folks seeing the Crimson Maze for the first time went wild, their voices buzzing with excitement:

"Holy cow, what a twisted piece of work!

It’s even tougher to get through than those dark mist zones!"

"It’s not just about fighting—you need brains and quick thinking too. Whatever genius cooked this up deserves a medal!"

"The four who make it through will definitely earn their stripes, sitting pretty at the top of this new generation!"

"..."

The maze finished rising, and contestants drew straws, each taking their spot in front of a maze entrance.

The announcer bellowed:

"Future embers, this is going to test both your muscle and your noggin!

Give it everything you’ve got!

Let the games begin!"

"Dong!"

The competition bell rang, and contestants charged into the maze.

At the same time, each person had a referee tagging along to keep things from going sideways.

Pretty soon, sounds of fighting, swearing, and trash talk all mixed together inside the maze.

Some folks ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, constantly hitting brick walls, angrily pounding the ground and cursing whoever dreamed up this nightmare!

Some had a game plan, only picking paths that went in certain directions, trying to cut corners, but kept running into dark mist monsters and muttering under their breath while dodging them...

Others teamed up for exploration, making deals to get through together...

Inside the maze, contestants showed every trick in the book, all desperately trying to find their way through and beat the clock.

But one guy was the odd man out!

At Maze Entrance #1, Carlos strolled forward nice and easy, like he was taking a Sunday walk in the park.

Among all the fired-up contestants, this stuck out like a sore thumb!

In the last round, Carlos had already caused quite a stir.

This round was no different, drawing attention from loads of spectators.

This weird behavior caught the crowd’s eye right away.

The fancy-pants nobles in the audience were singing his praises:

"Oh! Now that’s what I call future duke material!

Facing such a twisted, ever-changing maze, he’s cool as a cucumber, like he’s got it all figured out!

Pure class! Absolute class! The classiest thing I’ve ever seen!!!"

Others, especially the ladies in the crowd, were nodding in approval:

"Sweet mercy! Just look at him!

Those steady steps! That calm stare!

Oh! Even his turns are absolutely charming!"

There were actually a few level-headed folks in the audience:

"Ahem, little Carlos seems to be bringing up the rear..."

"Yeah, everyone else has at least made it to the second section, and he’s still puttering around in the first..."

The second those words left their mouths, they got jumped on by a bunch of ladies:

"What! The competition just started—do you know anything about strategy?"

"Don’t you realize Young Master Carlos is watching and thinking? Do you have any clue what playing it smart means?"

"Exactly! Right now Young Master Carlos has way more gas in the tank than everyone else—he’s clearly got the upper hand!"

"..."

The few rational guys clammed up. They had a sneaking suspicion they were behind the times.

Carlos, dead last in the pack, actually had the best shot?

Just then, another shout went up:

"Look! Young Master Carlos stopped moving!!!"

Everyone’s eyes swung over.

Even the bigwigs on the fancy platform were watching with interest this ’Carlos’ contestant who’d got everyone talking.

The referee next to Carlos was, wouldn’t you know it, the same half-elf referee from the last round’s arena.

The even more intense crowd attention than last round cranked up her pressure through the roof, making her a nervous wreck.

She was praying her heart out:

"Please don’t let anything go wrong... please don’t stir up trouble... please don’t let any accidents happen..."

She was wound tighter than a spring, her sharp eyes glued to Carlos, scared stiff of screwing up in front of all these people.

Carlos was calm as could be. He turned around and struck up a conversation with the referee:

"You don’t mind if I ask you something, do you?"

The jumpy half-elf referee practically jumped out of her skin and immediately put on her serious face:

"Talking to referees during competition is against the rules!"

Carlos’s mouth curved into a knowing smile:

"Then I’ll take that as a yes!"

"???"

The half-elf referee looked completely lost—what the heck did that mean?

Then... her pretty eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open:

"You... your back..."