In the Gladiatorial Arena, the Moonlight Wolf was already sprawled on the ground, seemingly lifeless.
Navi landed directly, standing beside the Moonlight Wolf, when suddenly, the Moonlight Wolf stood up.
Many people in the arena let out a gasp, thinking Navi had fallen into the Moonlight Wolfâs trap.
Just as people hoped to see Navi ripped to shreds, he surprisingly reached out and patted the Moonlight Wolfâs head, and the Wolf lowered its head.
Many people still didnât understand what happened; this Moonlight Wolf, body riddled with metal spikes like a porcupine, was oddly friendly to Navi.
"Navi used those metal spikes to control the Moonlight Wolfâs corpse. The Moonlight Wolf was already dead, filled with metal spikes, making survival impossible," Vivian explained.
Duke agreed, as those metal spikes were spread throughout the Wolfâs body, almost filling it up completely.
Now the Moonlight Wolf was essentially a puppet. Navi could make it do whatever he wanted.
The bald man then let out a strange cry, shouting, "I declare, the winner isâNavi!"
The arena erupted instantly, countless people cheering while many others beat their chests in frustration.
Inside the arena, Navi showed no special emotion; he calmly waved his hand, retrieving all the magic metal around back into his armor.
Throughout the entire battle, Navi was very relaxed; the Moonlight Wolf did not pose any pressure on him.
Clearly, he understood the Moonlight Wolf well, managing to handle this Level 1 magic beast at a calm pace, eliminating it with the least expenditure of magic power.
Duke, holding his ticket, noticed some black stones were being dispensed from the black vortex.
Seventeen in total, the same for Vivian, who casually placed them into their Space Rings, not paying much attention to them.
But the audience elsewhere was different; some peopleâs tickets dispensed stones piling into a small mountain, unimaginable how many stones they had wagered.
Many were eyeing the pile of stones with envy, but no one dared make a move here; doing so would be suicidal.
The person holding the heap of stones laughed heartily, appearing somewhat delirious.
Where there is laughter, there are tears; quite a few dazed people sat in their seats, clutching their hair as if their nails would pierce their scalps, trembling all over.
No need to ask, these people must have gambled everything they had, and now, after losing everything, might also be burdened with heavy debts.
The arena didnât care about these matters; after all, they always win. Soon, the second battle commenced.
This time, it was a duel between two Level 1 Liquidation Mages. Both had excellent records, with odds relatively balanced.
This time Duke didnât participate in betting; he figured wagering a little wouldnât yield much either.
He carefully observed the battleground, trying to see some details clearly.
The combat between these two mages wasnât fatal; typically, one would concede if injured.
After all, they are here to earn money, no need to fight to the death; win or lose, thereâs some profit to be made either way.
Mages generally have a sense of these things; without personal grudges, no one fights to the death. There are some unspoken rules within these circles.
These two mages were primarily using elemental magic, and the effects displayed were much better than the previous match.
Fireballs, waves, ice, and lightning burst forth continually, causing exclamations from the audience periodically.
Suddenly, Duke thought these two were more like performing rather than genuinely fighting, losing some interest instantly.
He realized that these two were likely people affiliated with the Gladiatorial Arena.
Performative battles donât teach much; they just give a sense of what formal wizardsâ spells can achieve.
Duke eyeballed the magical spells they cast, generally in the range of twenty to thirty degrees, an indicator of not putting in full effort.
He estimated a formal wizardâs casual strike might be the limit for a Round Table Knightâs protection.
After an apparent "bitter struggle," the match ended with one wizard conceding voluntarily.
He had suffered an attack from a lightning spell, his robe charred, vomiting blood, appearing severely harmed.
The battles continued within the Gladiatorial Arena, a new batch entering as fresh betting commenced, keeping the place bustling.
"Vivian! You came too!" Bellâs voice came from behind, eyes fixed intensely on Vivian.
Seeing Duke beside Vivian, Bellâs expression visibly changed.
Duke turned his head, realizing this person seemed to have just arrived and appeared to have come directly over after seeing Vivian.
Thinking a little, Duke understood the situation. Someone must have seen Vivian here, then informed Bell, who rushed over specifically for her.
Vivian ignored him, not bothered to turn around or talk to him.
Bell wasnât embarrassed, walking over to greet them: "Your fiancĂ© is here as well, the arenaâs performances are quite impressive, worth watching more."
Neither responded, and Bell seemed slightly displeased, saying: "Dukeâs from Black Sail, right? I heard the wizards from Black Sail are adept in combat. How about we spar a little?"
"Bell, what do you mean?" Vivian instantly became furious, her tone icy.
Bell, maintaining a smiling face, explained: "Vivian, donât misunderstand, itâs just a friendly spar, nothing more. I wonât harm Duke."
"You, a First-class Wizard Apprentice, sparring with a Second-class Wizard Apprentice? Arenât you afraid of losing face for our Thorn Holy Tower?" Vivian retorted.
Bell pretended to realize something: "Ah? Duke is a Second-class Wizard Apprentice? I thought Vivianâs fiancĂ©, even if not an Official Wizard, would at least be a First-class Apprentice."
It was clear to everyone that his words were mocking; he couldnât possibly not recognize Duke as a Second-class Wizard Apprentice.
Duke hadnât hidden his magic power aura either, something easily perceived among wizards.
At this point, another person approached: "Bell? You want to spar with one of our Black Sail people? Try me instead."
Duke looked up to find it was Merrick.
Merrick was now a First-class Wizard Apprentice, having advanced rapidly.
The assessment for Second-class Wizard Apprentice hadnât yet come, and he was already a First-class Wizard Apprentice.
Merrick and Bell evidently knew each other. Bell didnât take up Merrickâs invitation to spar, stating: "I just wanted to exchange pointers with Brother Duke; I didnât realize heâs only a Second-class Wizard Apprentice. Forget it then."