Return Of The Strongest Player

The key to success…

The statement sounded unreal. Arthur grasped the material, tightening his grip. Now, using his own mana, he had shaped the orb into something perfect. It did not have any uneven edges, and was entirely black…

Without any striations or streaks.

A smirk appeared on Arthur's face, which turned towards Isabella. The latter winced at the former's gaze, continuing to stare intently at the ground. At that point, any resistance was futile, as her life was in Arthur's hands.

Not only was she without strength, but Arthur also had her weakness clutched between his fingers.

"Thank you for helping me, even if you were preparing a feast," Arthur's words resounded in her ears, causing her eyes to widen. Her gaze contained intense emotions, which were a combination of anxiety, fear, and most of all…

Regret.

Arthur unsheathed Skofnung, and with a quick, silent slash, Isabella's head separated from the rest of her body. Her head rolled on the cold, hard floor, spilling crimson, viscous liquid as it formed a pool.

Her expression–even after an untimely death–contained a hint of fury.

Thud!

What remained of her body collapsed. Arthur watched emotionlessly, fiddling with the black orb in his right hand. It wasn't that he felt nothing, as the woman was genuinely kind to him, albeit due to an ulterior motive.

But alas, the benefits of killing her outweigh those of sparing her.

One thing he'd learned from both his former life and his current life was that the best enemy was a dead one. Someone who could develop into a thorn in Arthur's side was also worthy of his wrath.

Isabella–although incredibly untalented and unaware of how the inheritance she'd stumbled upon operated–was still a player. Not a single player could be underestimated, especially when Arthur was only in his initial stages of climbing.

He stood up, letting out a sigh. Generating an incredibly weak water spell, he wiped away the blood from the floor while stuffing Isabella's corpse into a locker. It was better if no one discovered it until after Arthur either destroyed the village or escaped.

Although a few would question Isabella's disappearance, Arthur wouldn't be present.

Immediately, he traversed through the cramped locker room, approaching the back door, through which the janitor often entered. Unlocking the door by simply shattering the doorknob, Arthur exited the locker room.

As the cold breeze of the outside world swept his hair back, Arthur relished the sensation by shutting his eyes for a few seconds.

Then, infusing his calves with mana, he sped off. His destination was the inheritance ground, and his objective was to at least unlock the first part of the Baron Of Death's inheritance. He wasn't certain if it was possible to unlock the entire inheritance.

The High Ranker wouldn't be so stupid as to allow anyone to inherit his legacy. One needed to show at least a certain level of skill, and Arthur was almost sure he hadn't achieved such a level, yet.

As he attempted to sneak out, a pair of eyes glanced in his general direction.

"Is that Avalon?"

Her words caused many to turn their eyes. Initially, the spectators felt a jolt of curiosity and confusion. They wondered why the newest rising star of Gargo Village would suddenly consider escaping.

But, as someone entered the locker room from which he'd escaped, Isabella's corpse was quickly located. Enraged at a clanmate's death, the residents of Gargo Village directed their anger at Arthur, whom they believed to be the perpetrator.

Elder Gabriel and Elder Feyright continued to battle. Since their battle was so intense and heated, they didn't have time to be concerned about the situation around them.

A few people pursued Arthur, while others assisted either Gabriel or Feyright in their battle.

The Competition's purpose had been abandoned, leaving the entirety of the arena in utter chaos. Screams resounded as many lives were lost. The war many tried to prevent had finally arrived.

Either Gargo Village or Lijkao Village would collapse today.

The war that had been postponed for decades was finally unfolding, and it was all caused by a mere player on the First Floor of the tower. Because of a few senseless choices, hundreds of lives would be lost.

Blood would spill in liters.

"How long has it been, Gabriel?" Feyright inquired. His anger had dimmed, and he finally began realizing the consequences of his actions. However, it was already too late to back out. The war had already begun.

The expressions of his comrades displayed determination. They would readily sacrifice their lives for the village. Such feelings were vivid in their gazes and displayed clearly with each step, or each slash.

'Where had he gone wrong?' Feyright wondered, observing the mess he and Gabriel had created due to their rivalry decades ago.

"Over forty years, I would assume," replied Gabriel, his voice laced with the same sentiment as his rival. He had expected such an outcome and had succeeded in preventing it several times. Alas, not all great things last forever.

"Come," said Feyright as a ginseng manifested in his hand. Gabriel's eyes widened, fear approaching from the depths of his heart as he gazed at the item in Feyright's hand. The Ginseng of Lobo.

It was an item Feyright purchased before retiring for good. Using it, one could summon a 150 Mark Novice Beast. Precisely, a wolf.

Since Feyright was using his trump card, it only made sense for Gabriel to reciprocate. Digging in his pockets, the latter retrieved an emerald stone, also known as the Jagged Rock Of Brutus. It was a mystical item capable of summoning a 150 Mask Novice Beast, too. Only, the rock was capable of summoning a bear.

Feyright slit his wrist, drawing a few droplets of blood, which he promptly spilled on the Ginseng, dying it crimson in a matter of seconds.

Gabriel circulated mana across his body, shattering the emerald stone solely using the pressure of supernatural energy.

The skies darkened as two entities were summoned simultaneously.