Under the brutal format of the arena, there are only a handful of people who can finally win. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 infoEven the warriors of those big clans may not have seen it once. Thus every spectator, young and old, and even the guards of the arena – excitedly shouted the man's name to witness the miracle and glory of this birth.

Larum stood calmly in the center of the field, neither cheering with the crowd around him nor appearing the slightest bit excited. His attitude invisibly infected the audience around him, and the whole venue gradually fell silent, leaving only whispered discussions.

As in the previous game, the losers who were unable to leave the field on their own were dragged out of the field by the guards. Then, a sturdy middle-aged man in a fur coat slowly walked to one end of the field, surrounded by four guards armed with sharp halberds.

"I am Garon, the leader of the frostwolves, the commander of the Thatchi today. I recognize you, warrior of the Grizzly Clan. He laughed and shouted, "Now, tell me what you want!" Fame, wealth, or a beautiful woman, I can satisfy you! ”

"I don't need those." Larum calmly replied, "I would like you to give the order to halt the march to the south. We've made enough of a return, and it's not good for the Thatchi to continue. ”

This sentence is like a drop of boiling water thrown into hot oil, which explodes in the entire field in an instant. Alain pricked up his ears, trying to hear what the crowd was saying. As he expected, the vast majority of voices closer to him expressed incomprehension, surprise, and anger at this.

"Now that the situation is so good, it's a pity to give up, it's simply hateful!"

"We promised the Violet Empire to fight together, as Thatch, how can we easily go back on what we promised!"

"Spy of the Elna people! He must have accepted the benefits of the Elna people to speak for those forest monkeys like this! ”

Sounds like these came and went, as if they were about to drown out the insignificant person in the room. Alain shrunk his shoulders, a little worried about his 'father', and a little despised for himself who didn't dare to stand by his father's side. Garon didn't look annoyed, he raised his hands and pressed down hard, so that the chatter calmed down a little.

"You see it." He raised his voice, "The clansmen don't agree to your request. Therefore, I can't say yes for them. He paused, spreading his stout arms, "Still, you're a warrior of the tribe, and that won't change." Come on, tell me a more worthy request, and then use your strength to fight for the Thatchis! ”

"In that case." Larum seemed to have expected this, he nodded, without the slightest hesitation, "The leader of the Frostwolf Clan, the commander of the coalition army, is naturally one of the best warriors of my clan. ”

He looked at Garon at the other end of the field and calmly said his next request, "So, I challenge you—if I win, I ask you to reconsider my previous offer." ”

Once again, the venue was in an uproar. This time, the surrounding talk was devoid of the incomprehension and swearing of the men, and there was only the cry of excitement at the sight of another fight, one of whom was also a long-standing tribal leader.

The Saatchi worshipped warriors and strength, and Garon, the symbol of the tribe, also regarded himself as a great warrior. No matter how reasonable he is, he can't refuse or avoid such a positive challenge in front of everyone. Otherwise, he will not only lose the trust of his people, but also abandon his confidence and glory as a warrior. And this means that he is not far from losing the position of leader.

Perhaps this was a weakness in the nature of the Thatchmen, and Alain remembered what his 'father' had said, and vaguely realized.

"Okay, no problem - I'll accept your challenge, Grizzly Warrior." Garon raised his right hand and took a chilling halberd from the guard's hand, swinging it away, revealing his strong torso and arm muscles, "I will defeat you." When that happens, you'll regret your arrogance and recklessness. ”

Larum did not answer. He bowed slightly, showing respect for the clan leader, and then raised his tomahawk to signal that he was ready.

No one needs to declare, the battle begins at this moment.

Garon clenched his halberd and approached his opponent without hurrying. He was equally cautious, as if he knew that the warrior on the other side was not an easy opponent to defeat even after several battles and with a worn weapon.

Alain held his breath and stared at everything in front of him. He knew very well that, despite having only one enemy, this battle was more dangerous than the previous ones. Garon was as good a warrior as his father, and if he was not careful, he might have been defeated - or even died.

The two moved slowly, testing each other's strength and reactions. Garon's weapons are long and comparatively slightly clumsy. Larum's tomahawk, although rough, is better than the thick axe, which is enough for defense. Their weapons exchanged several times, but neither of them could find the gaps in their opponents.

"You're an adversary to be admired." Garon stared at his opponent in front of him and exclaimed, "I'm going to miss you." ”

He took two steps back, pulled away slightly, and took a deep breath.

The invisible force seemed to merge into his body with the breath. Garon's muscles and body swelled at a visible rate, and his skin quickly turned from a smooth brown to a metallic iron gray. He was more than three meters tall at this time, and a crimson light erupted from his eyes, like lava lurking beneath a volcano. He stretched out his hands and easily folded the metal halberd into two equal pieces, then held half of them in his left and right hands, and pounced on the man in front of him again.

The iron-gray twin spears turned into two storms, enveloping the man's body. Larum swung his axe to parry, but retreated in the face of the opponent's unreasonable strength. To make matters worse, the already broken tomahawk seemed to be overwhelmed by the continuous collisions.

"It's time - it's over!" Garon let out a roar that shook the forest, "Die! ”

Alain almost wanted to close his eyes and avoid the scene that was too cruel for him. Thankfully, he didn't.

For he saw the 'father' rush forward, his tomahawk sweeping through the pair of hurricane-like spears with speed and force he had never seen before. Perhaps it was too much strength, and the handle of the axe was finally overwhelmed and snapped into two. But at the same time, Garon's figure was also deflected to one side by this blow.

Larum stepped forward and grasped the grip of his opponent's weapon with both hands. This time Alain could see clearly, a light red light flashing from 'Father' - he didn't know what it was, but he could roughly guess it.

Larum also used some kind of supernatural strength to be able to match the opponent.

This is the true strength of my father. Alain couldn't help but feel a little bloody, and he flailed his fists desperately to cheer for the man he valued. He looked at the boy next to him, and Glock was doing the same thing.

The two of them were not the only ones who applauded the blow. For the fighters in the arena, the Thatchians only care about who can give a good performance, and everything else does not matter. Obviously, Larum's performance just now has won everyone's approval.