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Chapter 43 - Trial Tower

The guard behind the door spoke as they both entered. “Welcome to Trial Tower.”

As they passed through the door, a grand hall opened up before Oliver. Several leather armchairs were scattered around, facing an arena on the floor below them. Red neon lights illuminated the spectacle, casting a vibrant, electric glow over the scene.

Two fighters were in the arena. One was tall and extremely thin, with a long reach in each of his attacks. The other fighter, on the other hand, was a bit shorter but very muscular. Each punch seemed to carry a lot of power. However, both seemed very generic, with nothing special about their attacks or movements.

"Ouch!" Nico said as he watched the taller fighter take a punch to the face. He even fell to the ground but got back up. His face was clearly swollen from the impact.

“When you're sure you can't win, ask to stop. Don't be an idiot like that guy,” Nico pointed to the losing fighter. “Your goal here is to learn and put on a good show. Don’t wear your body down to the point where you can’t compete in future matches.”

Oliver nodded, though he still had questions. “But what exactly is… this place?”

“This is one of many places the Empire pretends doesn't exist,” Nico said, raising both arms to gesture at the hall around them.

They approached a counter where several attendants were working. One of them recognized Nico and approached.

“What do we have for tonight, Mr. Nico?” the attendant asked.

“I’d like to sign up my ‘pupil’ and place a thousand credits on him,” Nico responded, raising his Gauntlet for the attendant.

A soft beep confirmed the transaction.

Oliver’s eyes widened in shock at the quick exchange of a thousand credits. A thousand imperial dollar credit was enough to sustain a family for a month—he couldn’t imagine so much money being wagered on his performance.

“A-a thousand credits?” Oliver stammered.

“Of course, here no bets smaller than that are allowed,” Nico explained. “You’ll find all sorts of people here, but two types come the most often—ex-military personnel looking to make money and nobles looking to throw some credits around for a good fight.”

While Nico continued to explain the place, the fight in the ring went on. Finally, the taller opponent was knocked unconscious, and his body was dragged out of the spotlight.

“Don’t worry, he’s... he'll be fine,” Nico reassured Oliver. “This is the Trial Tower. It may seem small from the outside, but there are 100 floors. Every time you win, you gain access to the next floor. The biggest gamblers are on the top floors. If you win, you get 30% of the total bets placed on your match. So, if you can attract attention, you could get rich quickly. But in your case, just focus on winning to fight stronger opponents.”

While Nico explained, they sat at a table with a clear view of the arena.

“What did you mean by ‘A place the Empire pretends doesn’t exist?’” Oliver asked.

“Well, betting on fights is illegal in the Empire,” Nico replied. “But there’s so much money here, especially in Selene, that they pretend everything’s fine.”

While Nico explained, another fight had begun. This time, it was between a boy and a girl, both of whom looked very young—perhaps even younger than Oliver.

“Oh, that’s rare,” Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It’s not often that the Houses send their members to fight here, but even they need real experience.”

People at nearby tables whispered among themselves while others openly cheered for one of the fighters.

When the match began, the girl quickly dashed toward the boy. Before he could react, she had already attacked his legs, bringing him to the ground. With a few swift movements Oliver couldn’t quite follow, she trapped his arm between her legs, locking it against her body.

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“CRACK!”

The move was just as quick as the fight’s start. The boy’s arm broke in a single motion. His guttural scream left the audience in shock.

“DING! DING! DING!”

“Damn, that was fast. But it seems she’s very well-trained,” Nico commented as Oliver’s face turned pale from the demonstration. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a better chance. Plus, before the 25th floor, there are no Ranger Weapons, and only after the 50th will you face a real Ranger.”

Oliver tried to read Nico’s expression to see if he could trust him, but he couldn’t discern much. Still confused and shaken by the fight, he tried to catch a glimpse of the boy, but just like the previous fighter, he was quickly carried out of the ring.

As Oliver tried to stand up to get a better view of the competitors, Nico placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, it’s almost your turn.”

Nico led Oliver to a separate area, reserved for fighters only. Inside the room were several people, many of them warming up and going through movements to calm their nerves before their fight.

“Your first fight should be straightforward, but our deal doesn’t end there,” Nico explained. “If you want any chance at passing your tests, you’ll need to reach the 10th floor. That’s usually where House members stop. It’s a good milestone for your first experience.”

Oliver nodded, listening carefully.

“But today, I want you to face three floors. Back to back. Show me your potential. Your professor may have believed in you, but now it’s time for you to show me what you’re capable of,” Nico concluded.

Nico saw a more serious expression take over Oliver’s face for the first time. With only a few minutes left before his fight, the boy began to calm himself for what was to come.

Oliver knew the path he had chosen wouldn’t be easy, and he had made peace with his decision back when he spoke with Caine.

“Yes, sir,” Oliver responded.

Nico said his goodbyes, informing Oliver that he couldn’t stay in the preparation room. Finally, Oliver was left alone with his thoughts and the other fighters.

The boy sat on one of the benches lining the room. His feet began to tremble as he tried to move to ease his anxiety, but with each passing minute, it only seemed to grow. The small room started to feel claustrophobic, the walls pressing in, his heart racing and his breath becoming erratic.

“BUZZ!”

Without knowing how much time had passed, his Gauntlet vibrated.

| Next match in 5 minutes.

| Proceed to the end of the hallway to prepare for your fight.

‘Finally,’ Oliver thought.

He jumped up from the bench, doing a few small hops and rolling his head in circles. Taking long, deep breaths, he left the room. He hadn’t paid much attention to the layout earlier, so now he was slightly confused about where to go.

Fortunately, he only needed to follow the crowd's sound. At the end of the hallway, red neon lights greeted him, along with an attendant who looked like a security guard.

“Oliver?” the guard asked.

“Yes,” Oliver nodded in response.

“You’ll enter in one minute. Wait for my signal,” the guard replied, looking out into the arena.

Oliver began rotating his arms to keep himself loose. He wasn’t wearing gloves or protective gear, just his uniform.

‘I guess that’s expected? After all, this is an underground fight, no matter how luxurious it looks,’ Oliver thought as he waited for the signal.

“Go ahead,” the guard’s voice snapped Oliver out of his thoughts.

Walking through the hallway, Oliver finally stepped into the lower level of the Trial Tower. Above him were dozens of tables where spectators were seated, watching the matches, while in front of him was the arena, bathed in the familiar red neon glow.

As he entered the ring, Oliver noticed it was more spacious than he’d expected, allowing room for medium-range combat. The walls were covered in steel, ensuring the room’s durability.

On the other side of the ring, Oliver saw his opponent. He looked a bit older, perhaps 16 or 17 years old—someone who had likely graduated from the Academy but hadn’t yet become a Ranger.

His face was gaunt, almost cadaverous, though he was taller than Oliver, with longer arms.

‘Hmm… this could be tricky,’ Oliver thought.

“TCH!”

A floating holographic head appeared between the two fighters. Had Oliver not already seen other holograms, this might have surprised him, but he was too focused on his opponent to be caught off guard.

“I will be the referee for this match. Basic rules—no protection. If you pass out, you automatically lose. Immobilize your opponent, and it’s an automatic loss. No fighting to the death. Understood?” the floating head asked.

Both fighters nodded, beginning to warm up. Oliver bounced lightly in the arena, his arms still sore from his previous fight with Kyle. But he had learned a lot. This time, things would be different.

“Betting will begin on my signal!” the floating head announced to the crowd. “3… 2… 1… Begin!”

“DING!”