CHAPTER 52: UNDEFEATED CHAMPION

"The name’s Melania," she said, extending a hand with fingers that ended in delicate but deadly-looking claws. "And you’re either very brave or very stupid to be sitting in the general admission section."

"Jack," he replied, accepting her handshake and trying not to think about how easily those claws could open his throat. "And probably a bit of both."

Her laughter was like silver bells ringing in a graveyard. "I like honesty. It’s so rare up here." She gestured toward the arena floor, where figures were beginning to emerge from gates set into the walls. "So what brings a mortal to our little entertainment venue?"

"I’m here to get stronger," Jack said simply. "And this seemed like the place to do it."

"Oh, you have no idea." Melania’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. "You’re in for quite a show. Today’s main event is going to be special, the Undefeated Champion is fighting again."

As if summoned by her words, a figure emerged from the largest gate on the arena floor. Even from their elevated position, Jack could see that this was no ordinary gladiator.

The Champion stood nearly three meters tall, his body a masterwork of muscle and scarred flesh. He wore minimal armor, just enough to cover his face and his crotch. He carried a massive two-handed sword that gleamed with wherever the light was coming from.

[Field Boss detected: The Undefeated Champion]

[Rank: Dread]

[Level: 45]

[HP: 25,000]

[Warning: Extremely dangerous]

The crowd’s roar intensified as three other figures entered the arena from opposite gates.

These were smaller than the Champion but clearly skilled fighters in their own right. Each carried different weapons.

[Entity detected: Arena Gladiator ×3]

[Rank: Terror]

[Level: 20]

[HP: 3,000]

"Three against one," Melania observed, her tail coiling with excitement. "The Champion requested the handicap. Said one-on-one fights were getting boring."

A figure appeared in what looked like an announcer’s booth carved into the colosseum wall. This creature was even more disturbing than the promoter. Its form constantly shifted between different shapes, never settling on any single appearance for more than a few seconds.

"LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND INDESCRIBABLE HORRORS!" The Announcer’s voice boomed through the colosseum, somehow audible over the crowd’s roar. "WELCOME TO TODAY’S SPECIAL EVENT!"

The crowd responded with a sound that made Jack’s bones vibrate. Thousands of inhuman voices raised in anticipation, creating a wall of noise that was almost as powerful as a swing of a sword.

"IN THE NORTH CORNER, WE HAVE THREE CHALLENGERS! VETERANS OF A HUNDRED BATTLES, SURVIVORS OF THE DEEPEST PITS!"

Each gladiator raised their weapon as they were introduced, and the crowd’s response varied depending on apparent popularity. The spear-wielder seemed to be a favorite, earning cheers that shook dust from the upper tiers.

"AND IN THE SOUTH CORNER, THE BEING WHO NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION. UNDEFEATED IN OVER TWO THOUSAND BATTLES, THE CHAMPION OF CHAMPIONS!"

The Champion simply stood motionless as the crowd went absolutely berserk. Jack had to cover his ears as the sound reached painful levels.

"BEGIN!" the Announcer roared.

What followed was the most brutal display of combat Jack had ever witnessed. The three challengers moved with perfect coordination, clearly having fought together before.

The dagger-wielder went for the Champion’s legs while the hammer-fighter targeted his torso, leaving the spear-user to control distance and look for openings.

It should have worked. Against any normal opponent, such tactics would have been overwhelmingly effective.

But the Champion was no normal opponent.

He moved with a grace that belied his massive size, his sword flowing through the air in arcs that seemed to bend physics.

The first challenger to fall was the hammer-wielder, who overcommitted to a power strike and found himself bisected from shoulder to hip in a single counter-attack.

The crowd’s roar reached new heights as blood fountained across the arena sand.

’Jesus Christ,’ Jack breathed, his stomach lurching at the casual brutality.

"Magnificent, isn’t he?" Melania’s voice was full of genuine admiration. "I’ve been watching him fight for decades, and he still finds new ways to surprise me."

The remaining two challengers pressed their attack with desperate fury, but the outcome was inevitable. The dagger-wielder lasted another thirty seconds before the Champion’s pommel caved in his skull. The spear-user managed to actually draw blood, a shallow cut across the Champion’s ribs, before that massive sword took his head clean off.

The entire fight lasted less than two minutes.

[Combat concluded]

[Enemies defeated: 3]

[Total enemy count: 14, 267]

[Notice: Enemy count unchanged]

Jack stared at the system notification in confusion. ’System, why hasn’t the enemy count decreased?’

[Analysis: Floor 2 operates on different parameters than Floor 1. Enemies appear to regenerate or respawn through unknown mechanisms.]

’You mean this is a grinding floor? I can come back and fight the same enemies repeatedly?’

[Yes. Assuming you don’t die.]

The implications hit Jack like a lightning bolt. This was a resource to exploit. He could return here as often as needed, building up death tokens while honing his skills against increasingly difficult opponents.

Down in the arena, the Champion was already walking back toward his gate, the crowd’s cheers got louder and louder. Creatures with shovels and buckets emerged from hidden entrances to clean up the carnage.

"Impressive, wasn’t it?" Melania asked, noting Jack’s stunned expression. "That’s what passes for entertainment around here. Blood, skill, and the ever-present possibility of death."

"How long has this been going on?" Jack asked, still trying to process what he’d witnessed.

"Centuries," she replied with a casual shrug. "Maybe millennias. Time moves strangely in the deeper levels of Tartarus. The Champion has been undefeated for as long as anyone can remember."

The Champion was clearly beyond his current abilities. He was level 45 with 25,000 hit points was far outside his weight class. But. What made it truly terrifying, was the champion didn’t use any magic or fancy skills.

He just used raw power amd speed. This was a different type of enemy Jack hadn’t faced yet.

And if the floor really did allow for unlimited grinding...

"You’re thinking about fighting, aren’t you?" Melania’s voice held a note of amusement. "I can practically see the wheels turning in your head."

"Maybe," Jack admitted. "I need to get stronger, and this seems like it might be the place to do it."

"Oh, it is," she purred, her tail coiling with what looked like anticipation. "But you should know that fighting here isn’t just about combat skill. It’s about showmanship, about giving the crowd what they want to see. Bore them, and they’ll turn on you faster than you can blink."

As if to demonstrate her point, spectral gates began opening around the arena floor. The crowd’s roar shifted to something more predatory as creatures began emerging. A pack of two-headed hellhounds came out, their flames leaving scorch marks on the sand.

"Intermission entertainment," Melania explained. "Watch how they work the crowd."

[Enemy detected: Two-headed Hellhound]

[Rank: Terror]

[Level: 28]

[HP: 4,000]

[Abilities: Flame breath, Intimidation, War Howl]

Jack found himself analyzing each creature that appeared, mentally cataloging their abilities and considering their potential as bound companions. The hellhounds were impressive but not quite right.

They wrte too pack-oriented, and he needed something more independent since he could only bind 3 cretaures.

Then a shadow passed overhead, and Jack looked up to see a massive black bird circling the arena. It was easily the size of a horse, its feathers so dark it was hard to see it clearly.

CAAHHH!!

CAAHHHH!!

When it cried out, the sound screeched against his ears.

[Entity detected: Carrion Raven]

[Rank: Terror]

[Level: 32]

[HP: 5,200]

[Abilities: Flight, lightning Immunity, Death sense.]

’System, remind me of the binding costs.’

[Soul Warden binding costs:]

[Terror-rank: 25,000 death tokens]

[Current balance: 2,200 tokens]

He was still short of what he needed for a Terror-rank. A few successful fights in the arena would easily cover the difference.

"You’re planning something," Melania observed, her green eyes fixed on his face with predatory intensity. "I can smell ambition on you like blood in the water."

"Just thinking about possibilities," Jack replied carefully. He wasn’t sure how much to reveal to this creature, beautiful as she might be.

"Possibilities." She tasted the word like fine wine. "I haven’t heard that word used seriously in decades. Most beings down here gave up on possibilities long ago."

"NEXT UP," the Announcer’s voice boomed, "WE HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT! THREE VOLUNTEERS FROM OUR LOVELY AUDIENCE WILL HAVE THE CHANCE TO FACE CHAMPION-LEVEL OPPOSITION!"

Jack felt his blood turn to ice as a spotlight suddenly illuminated their section of the stands. The crowd’s attention focused on him like a knife being held to his throat.

"VOLUNTEER ONE," the Announcer continued with obvious satisfaction, "OUR NEWEST REGISTRANT! GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO... JACK KAISER!"

The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers, boos, and inhuman sounds that had no terrestrial equivalent. Jack sat frozen in his seat, realizing that his casual signature on that contract had committed him to more than he’d bargained for.

Melania’s laughter was like crystal breaking. "Oh, darling," she said, her eyes bright with malicious amusement.

Spectral gates around the arena floor began to glow, preparing to disgorge whatever horrors had been chosen for his trial by combat.

Jack’s hand instinctively went to his system storage, where the Lightning Blade waited alongside his various other tools.

Before Jack could respond, the world around him shimmered and twisted. Reality bent like heated glass as a magical force seized his body. The sensation was disorienting. Every nerve screamed as space folded around him.

When his vision cleared, he was standing in the center of the arena floor, blood-soaked sand beneath his boots and the deafening roar of the crowd pressed down on him. The Lightning Blade materialized in his hand, electricity crackling along its length.

The crowd’s bloodthirsty cheers reached a fever pitch as one of the beasts let of a defining screech.

"SKREEEEAAAARRHH!"