“Eldon!”

And then he was awake again.

“Are you okay?”

Eldon was on the ground, and Zachary looked down at him with a concerned expression. Eldon jerked and hurriedly stood up to look around. It had only been a few moments since the explosion, but the man was no longer there.

Eldon pointed a shaky finger at the place where the man was. “Wh- where did he go?”

“He left a moment ago, pursued by another silhouette. Damn it, I bet it’s a battle between two Campers. Did they go completely crazy and forget the Spire’s warning?”

“No - no, wait,” Eldon staggered. The fog in his head was not gone yet. “That man - th - that -”

Zachary noticed Eldon’s agitation. “What’s wrong?”

“I th-think that man is an S-S-S Ranker.”

Zachary paused and stared at Eldon. “Why do you think so?”

“I saw it.” Eldon rubbed his eyes. “When I look at someone, I can see the strength of their vital energy. When I looked at that man just now, I thought I was going to die.”

“Are you sure?” Zachary said, reaching a hand at Eldon. “Maybe you’re still feeling the aftereffects from the shockwave just now.”

Eldon smacked Zachary’s hand away. “I’m not that weak. I know what I saw.”

Another intense collision echoed in the distance.

Eldon glanced at Zachary and then began walking toward the blast. Other people also hurried along, hoping to watch a good show.

Soon, he arrived at an area filled with people. The nearby buildings were filled to the brim with curious onlookers. He surveyed the area and approached the crowd, planning to squeeze through until he could see what was happening.

After he took a few steps, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“You admire S-ranks so much?” Zachary stepped beside him, curiosity flickering on his face.

Eldon tried to keep walking, but Zachary held him back. “You won’t be able to get through the crowd with that weak body. Allow me.”

The Whispering Plaza was a place of relaxation and peace. The fountain at the center, the Fountain of Shadows, was a miniature version of the Spire. There were arenas where adventurers and other abnormals could spar and fields where ordinary people could play and have fun. People were always present, placing bets and playing games—but not today.

Today, the multitude of people who had gathered to watch were silent. Only the whooshes of high-speed movement, the boom of collision, the clang of metal on metal, and the shockwaves of the battle reverberated through the plaza.

The fountain was in shambles, and the arena was devastated, filled with craters and fissures as the fighters clashed repeatedly.

“What great moves!” One woman whispered to her comrade. “That woman’s blade work is exquisite; it’s so graceful one moment and so deadly in the next. It’s like she’s dancing!”

“Completely agree. From the shockwaves and the damage to the terrain, they should be A-ranks who have some score to settle.”

“But why would A-ranks fight in the open like this? Are they not scared of the Spire’s retaliation?”

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Her comrade giggled. “Don’t you recognize that attire? Those are the Bone-embroidered Robes of the Spire’s Campers. Those unruly savages are unpredictable. Rules have no meaning to them.”

“Of course, I know them. The tragic death of the thousand Campers is still the subject of discussions at the Guild meet-ups. I didn’t recognize the uniform because I’ve never seen it before.”

“I would be surprised if you recognized it. All you do is chase after that Lindon guy.”

“Shut up!”

Sitting on Zachary’s back, Eldon ignored the two women’s discussion and focused on observing the two flickering figures. Every instant, there was the spark of blades colliding. Yet, as far as Eldon could see, neither had the upper hand.

“Are they S-ranks?” Zachary was still skeptical. “Why do they seem so weak to me?”

Eldon had never seen S-ranks battle before this, but he had to admit the duo were too weak to be the legendary warriors he had heard of. But the bright and intense vital energies that overwhelmed him and pushed him to the brink of losing consciousness assured him that they were the real deal.

“They are. I’m sure of it.” Eldon bit his lip to stay awake and surveyed the arena, trying to spot abnormalities. “Maybe something is causing them to be so weak. Like a domain ability or something.”

“To affect two S-ranks, they would have to be S-ranks themselves. A-Rank abilities would barely slow them down.”

Eldon took his word for it. “Let’s wait a moment. Whoever is doing this is trying to reduce damage to the surrounding structure. When the battle reaches a tipping point, they will surely appear.”

Zachary grunted in agreement. The two slipped into silence once more. An opportunity to observe S-ranks fight, even weakened as they were, was not easily obtained. Eldon opened his eyes wide, taking in the duo’s every movement and filing it away for later analysis.

I see... Some principles of weapon control were unraveling themselves to Eldon. The grip, the stance, the control... It was a pity that the beautiful dance was put to a stop far too soon.

With a clash and a bang, the two separated and stared at one another from a distance. Eldon could finally see their appearances. On one side was a giant man with reddish brown hair. On the other was a slender beauty with golden braids. They stared at each other for a long moment, silence permeating the arena.

The lady gave a bright smile. “Are you tired? That’s sad. I’m not even warmed up yet.”

Her voice was silky and smooth, calming the mind of those present, but Eldon only felt a chill run down his spine. The bloodlust in her eyes was scary enough, but only one person among the fifteen S-ranks of the Camps held such murderous intent.

The goddess of slaughter, Debra Skinner.

Rumor had it that her parents abandoned her at a young age because of her love for slaughter, and a rebel organization took her in, trained her in martial arts, and taught her to kill. With the best teachers and constant battling, she soon perfected her art of killing.

For a time, the rebels successfully directed her violence at the Legions attempting to claim their territory for the New World Government. In those battles, it was said that she murdered more than a million in the five years she spent on the battlefield. When the battlefield could no longer satiate her hunger, she was said to have turned on her organization.

When the Legions went to conquer their land again, they met a deserted wasteland covered in corpses. Debra had been found laughing maniacally next to the decapitated and skinned body of the organization leader.

It was why the Spire named her “Skinner, the goddess of slaughter.”

And then there was the Herculean man.

“As much as I love fighting with a beauty such as you. I’d much prefer if we were doing other things,” The man replied, leaning on the axe. “All this playing around is not good for the body.” He gave a charming smile.

A frame like that could not be found anywhere else. Jerrod Tickle, one of the most infamous members of the fifteen S-ranks, was a different kind of monster who fought on a different battlefield. It was said that before he was five, he made love to all the girls in his neighborhood. His exceptional features, combined with his charming character, made it smooth sailing for him when it came to females.

One of his most famous events was when, just after a battle, he rounded up all the females in his Camp and slept with them in succession for days. Everywhere one looked in the Camp, a female was struggling to stand. It was pure torture for the men who witnessed it.

These two... Eldon was excited, yet worried. Seeing the legends appear before him was surreal, but it also cast a gloomy light on why they had been brought here. Why would the New World Government gather fifteen monsters clothed in human skin to the Island?

“Now, now. Don’t be like that. Let’s do this then. We’ll exchange one real move. Whoever dies loses. With the restrictions, we won’t be able to fight much longer.”

Eldon perked up. Restrictions? So that was why they were so weak; they were under restrictions. It made sense now that he thought about it. No matter how strong the Government was, S-ranks were too dangerous to keep unleashed. The only question was how they were being restricted.

“I’m not interested.” The man was steadfast in his refusal. “You’re full of killing intent, but I can’t bear to kill a maiden such as you. Our wills and intents are not equal, so wouldn’t I just be sending myself to my death?”

“Come on. Just one round.”

“No.”

“You two... Are you planning on rebelling against the Spire?” A deep voice rumbled.