Winning so neatly gave Rosie a certain audience base in an instant, and amid cheers, Rossi slowly walked down from the ring. He glanced back at the corpse that had been thrown into the garbage heap and had begun to harden, and a strange feeling rose in his heart. In the breath, wisps of inexplicable things were surging, two drops of water dripped above the withered seedlings in the heart, the withered leaves were slightly moisturized, and the withered and scorched curls were also stretched, revealing a little green.

Rosie was slightly stunned, he came back to his senses and nodded to the poisonous wolf, and silently walked to the stage and sat down.

"How's it going?", the wolf quickly tapped Rossi's shoulders and arms, relaxing his muscles, "I saw just now, you handled it very well, the combat here is different from gladiatorial fighting, the field is smaller, and the pace is faster, so you have to reduce the chance of mistakes, but you have to seize every opportunity to attack." Just now Xavi took the wrong route, he used a defensive counterattack strategy against you, but ignored that you are a newcomer, and the audience still has a lot of patience and tolerance for you.

You have to be careful of the next players, they may be different from Xavi and they will suppress you and press you as soon as they come up. When you encounter such an opponent, you have to remember one thing, don't blindly counterattack, so that it is easier to step on the opponent's trap, try your best to master the rhythm of the battle, and disrupt the opponent's rhythm, so as to win beautifully!"

Although the poisonous wolf did not lift any trophies, he has a wealth of experience, and this is his wealth. What Rossi lacks is experience in this area. Before crossing over, his fighting style was mostly life-for-life, and it was precisely because of his special healing skills that he could save his life at any time, so his fighting style was violent and direct, and almost any enemy was no match for him.

But in this world, all his magic skills have disappeared, and he has lost his greatest reliance. If you use the life-for-life style again, maybe others will die before they die. He must have enough combat experience to determine victory or defeat, and crush his opponent with absolute superiority, rather than cheating.

Rosie nodded, jot down the wolf's words, but his thoughts drifted back into the core of his soul. The feeble seedling exuded a subtle fluctuation that conveyed a demand to Rossi in a more subtle way.

It needs more nutrients.

What are Nutrients?

What are nutrients?

Faith?

It's possible!

But it may not be!

Rosie recalled the tranquility and relief in Harvey's eyes before he died, and he suddenly realized in his heart that it was salvation!

He looked at the boiling spectators around him, their twisted expressions as if possessed by demons from the underground, roaring, roaring, and exuding the evil of the red fruit. What they need is salvation, salvation from the soul.

Rosie took a deep breath into his heart, exhaled turbid air, and relaxed.

He had a goal, to establish a kingdom of God where all people, forever lived, without worries.

The evil of the Sky Tower continues, the battle keeps ending, and it keeps beginning, like a circle that never stops. Elites from all over the Eastern Regions gather here to hone their skills and strengthen their combat skills. It's like a qualifier for a gladiatorial tournament, brushing down all the unqualified people, leaving only the strongest handful.

After a short break, Rosie urged the poisonous wolf to sign up again, he needed strength, he needed experience, he needed to fight!

The poisonous wolf, who had just made a lot of money, was also happy for Rossi to continue fighting, the desire to fight was the best virtue of gladiators, gladiators could indulge in women, they could indulge in alcohol, but they could not do without the desire to fight.

New battles are lined up again through a board above the hall on this level, and Rossi will then face Ghent, a Dellet man with six wins.

Both the Delit and the Otmir are dwarves, but there are significant differences between the two. The Dellet people live in the warmer south, are more flexible, and are thinner. The Otmirs live in colder mountainous areas, and their living environment makes them stronger and slightly taller than the Delits. Despite their agility, they are clearly much larger than the Dellites, and their fighting style is more brutal.

The biggest headaches in the gladiatorial arena are the Delit and the Otmir, and their small size is an advantage, and no one can deny this. With the same weapon, it is much easier to stab a Quint in the vital point than to stab a Delite or an Otmir in the vital point. Coupled with the balls that these two races are best at, they have always been difficult opponents in the battle arena.

Gent is such an opponent, a small man of about one meter and one, and it seems that he is only half as tall as Rossi, slightly thin, and has a pitiful small attack surface. He was wearing a leather armor, his small eyes were green and fierce, the corner of his mouth on the left side had been torn, the wound had continued to the side of his cheek, and the red and swollen scar was like a centipede wrapped around his face. He always subconsciously wrapped his mouth, twitching and twitching, and the whole scar seemed to come to life.

Rosie turned over into the ring, and the Gentry referee sprinkled a handful of sand on the ring with an expressionless face, "Ten Newt time, if you don't decide the winner or loser, it's a draw." He patted the table, and the game officially began.

Rossi, who had won one game before, already had his own fans in this one, and these fans may be aiming to get more money, but that doesn't stop them from cheering for Rossi. The tickets they waved in their hands were just like their mood at this moment, and they couldn't stop jumping.

The official of the Sky Tower will not arrange two opponents with a huge disparity in strength, and the ultimate purpose of the strong people who come here is to become stronger, not to seek death. Officially, Rossi won the previous battle cleanly, he was particularly calm when fighting, and he grasped the timing very well, and he won the battle with someone like Gent, as long as he played steadily, he basically would not lose.

The concept of a draw is the only one here, and once the time is up, the Quint referee will come to the stage to disperse the two sides of the battle. Ten minutes is not a long time, many times the process of containment temptation lasts about five minutes, and it often only takes one minute, or even less, to really distinguish between the superior and the inferior.

This Dellett named Gent had obviously watched Rossi's game just now, and he was a little cautious, and he had been using his advantages to constantly test Rossi. As soon as he found that Rossi had the desire or possibility to fight back, he immediately pulled back.

There were more people in the audience who started cursing again, and the draw was a dealer-takes-all, which was acceptable for both sides of the battle, but not for these spectators. They wantonly insulted and cursed, not only scolding the players they bet on, but also scolding each other.

However, Gent is different from Xavi, he has fought eight battles, won six and lost two, and he has escaped by chance, and he can hold his breath better than Xavi.

The two men are constantly changing positions and will have tentative attacks against each other, but Gent is firmly aware of his strengths and weaknesses, and he never fantasizes about knocking out Rossi all at once. Judging from Xavi's injury, he can tell that Rossi has a lot of strength and is also very flexible.

The gladiators and samurai who watched from the audience constantly observed the progress of several rings, summed up their experiences, accumulated experience, and analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of their possible enemies.

Rosie is also very calm, not arrogant or impatient, and deaf to those who abuse him.

Time passed little by little, and seeing that there was not much time left, a cold glint flashed in Gent's eyes.

I came here to constantly push the limits and challenge the impossible. If you encounter any opponent who will delay time, it is better to go home and farm honestly, or be a dutiful slave. He was thinking about how to break the deadlock when a steel pipe was thrown into the ring.

The eyes of the two of them froze at the same time, and they both lowered their center of gravity, but neither of them moved first.

The steel pipe was thrown by the audience, which is not a violation. A steel pipe costs five gold coins, an outrageously exaggerated price that can't stop the gamblers' determination. Many times, gamblers will take out some money to buy some weapons and throw them in the ring for the sake of their own tickets and possible benefits, making the game more cruel.

Ghent took small steps and slowly leaned towards the steel pipe, and Rosie leaned over as well.

Empty-handed and armed combat are two different concepts, and once the opponent has a weapon, the winner can be decided in an instant.

Just as the Quint referee on the field announced that there was only one minute left in the game, Gent moved.

He slammed forward, like a sturdy cheetah, and the whole person almost "flew" towards the steel pipe against the table of the ring. Rosie lunged forward as well, his goal was not to snatch the pipe, but to keep it from Ghent.

This is where the racial disadvantage lies, the height of the Gautebis makes it necessary for Rossi to bend over and reach out if he wants to get the pole, while the Delit dwarf wants to pick up the pole, he ignores the action of bending over, he just needs to reach out and grab it, and he can get it.

A bent action, in a life-and-death battle, is obviously a lethal and redundant action, so Rossi is not going to ask for that steel pipe, he just needs to stop Ghent.

The two rushed to the steel pipe almost at the same time, Gent reached out to grab it, but Rossi stepped on one end of the steel pipe, Root was stunned, his hand had already grabbed the steel pipe, and he pumped hard, not moving. Rosie lifted another kick and threw it like a whip at Ghent, with the wind whistling and full of power.

Before the leg arrived, the wind arrived first, Root hesitated for a few tenths of a second, he twitched harder, but still did not move, at this time it was too late for him to let go, so he could only raise one arm and slap Rosie's whip leg.

When all gladiators and samurai were learning to fight, their instructors would tell them that they could not resist with their lower or upper arms in the face of the whip leg, but only by slapping, otherwise a fracture would be the only result. But Gent didn't expect that Rosie's strength was actually stronger than that of the Quints, and how could he, who was so small, be able to resist such a powerful force?

This also made him understand that Harvey's knee was kicked and shattered in an instant before, not because Harvey's strength was too strong and the reaction force shattered his knee, but purely kicked by Rossi.

Gent grabbed the steel pipe with one hand and didn't let go, but his body was kicked and flew up, and the whole person seemed to be doing a handstand.

The moment Rosie's whip leg landed, he took a step forward and stomped on the ground fiercely, while twisting his waist and abdomen hard, spinning his front foot, and the foot stepping on the steel pipe was violently lifted and kicked out. The speed was only an arc-shaped afterimage in the eyes of some people, and Gent's whole person was flying up by the previous kick, and his body had no way to borrow force in the air, even if he pulled up the steel pipe and smashed it into Rossi's leg, it would be useless.

With a bang, Ghent was shot out of the ring like a cannonball, rolling down the audience and knocking over a dozen spectators.

Rossi put down the shelf, patted his calf, and looked at the Quint referee.

"Rosie vs. Gent, Rosie wins!"