Chapter 738: Fighting Arena (Part 5) The Battle Ends

Jier's words made everyone in the VIP viewing room laugh.

Clearly, as key personnel of various Merchant Guilds, they had often received news of their own caravans being attacked. And the losses brought about, as could be seen from the fact that a single trade route could support so many Bandit Groups, were likely not small.

But Jier had not finished speaking; after pondering for a moment, he continued: "However, one must still be careful. Once the Wolf Pack is driven away, a fierce tiger may come."

"Oh?"

Mr. Scott asked with a smile: "A fierce tiger? Do you mean those fluffy little things? Just them? Ha."

That disdainful tone suggested that although he thought highly of the strength of the long-haired lynx Beast-men, he still did not take them seriously.

But Mr. Bantuolisa rubbed his graying beard with his fingers, his brows furrowing: "Knight Jier, please continue."

Jier shrugged his shoulders: "Although those little alien races currently reside in the mountains and forests and have not had large-scale contact or settlement with human society, what if, after they are gathered and armed, they drive away the human Bandits endangering the trade routes near Duoen Town and then replace those human Bandits? Wouldn't the situation then become even more complex than it is today?"

"Ordinary Bandits are already hard to deal with, let alone the ability of these little things to raid caravans in remote, uninhabited wilderness. I think, by then, as long as there is one tribe of long-haired lynx Beast-men—it is a tribe, right?"

Mr. Bantuolisa, who knew the long-haired lynx Beast-men best, nodded.

"As long as one tribe gets a taste of the sweetness of raiding human caravans and spreads the news widely among the alien groups, there will be no peaceful days on the trade route. Think about it: having to guard against the presence of alien raiders in knee-deep grass at every moment—will caravans still be able to spend the night in the wild?"

All the merchants present realized where the problem lay, and their expressions turned ugly.

"So, Knight Jier. Are we to do this to these little alien races?"

Mr. 'Gaunt Aolier' reached out and made a throat-slitting gesture, the meaning of which was self-evident.

Mr. Autosfiten waved his hand: "Please don't do such terrible things, alright? Although what the Knight says is scary, we have never heard of such news to this day, right? These nimble long-haired lynx Beast-men, although stronger than goblins, are still considered friendly to humans. Right, Mr. Bantuolisa?"

The gray-haired Mr. Bantuolisa was silent for a moment, then nodded: "Although they have some skills, their level of development is still very immature; they are the same today as they were decades ago. Therefore, relying on themselves alone, they will not amount to anything for at least hundreds or thousands of years. Returning to the original question, Autosfiten, it is still better not to send people or invest in gathering and arming them. These long-haired little fellows should just stay in their mountains and forests to live. As for our own human affairs, even if it is troublesome, it is best not to rely on alien races."

Mr. Bantuolisa's final statement was met with unanimous approval and applause from everyone in the VIP room.

Accompanied by the sparse applause from high up in the Fighting Arena, the situation down in the arena was equally interesting.

Especially when the applause rang out.

Let us pull time back to when Mr. Autosfiten asked our Jier a question.

At this moment, on the sandy ground, slightly red and overflowing with the smell of blood, the situation between the two sides in the battle had basically become clear.

On the side of the long-haired lynx Beast-men, except for one guy who was dazed from being hit by a wooden club and was resting far away against the wall of the Fighting Arena, the other seven long-haired lynx Beast-men had already formed a circular formation, surrounding the still-resisting goblin leader within the arena.

They were agile and flexible in their movements, needing only to move their short legs and jump left and right to easily dodge the goblin leader's savage wooden club strikes.

Not to mention that they also had a tail that was thin and long, but very sturdy and powerful. Relying on this tail, the long-haired lynx Beast-men could, at a critical moment, support themselves on the ground out of thin air, thereby changing the direction of their body's movement at will.

In short, the situation was heavily in their favor; although they had no way to take down the 'tall' goblin leader who was protected by bone armor, they occupied the initiative in the battle.

As for the goblin side, the four goblins that had been knocked down at the very beginning were still unable to crawl up from the ground. The wailing and cursing sounds in their mouths were loud; even if the watching humans could not understand what the goblins were cursing, it was certainly not anything good—a point that was all too familiar to the watching poor who also spoke foul language.

Everyone could guess what it was. It was nothing more than greeting the health of the other party's entire family, as well as the fertility of the other party's females and the loyalty of their partners.

But as these four unlucky guys flipped over from their prone state during the battle, the crowd then discovered that these four guys had actually been ambushed by the melee long-haired lynx Beast-men at the very beginning of the battle, their eyes slashed open with scavenged, broken weapons.

At least from what those lying near the edge of the spectator stands could see, the eyes of these four goblins were completely blinded; let alone participating in this battle, whether they could walk normally afterward was a difficult matter.

If this situation had occurred in human society, there would still be a possibility for the injured to be healed at a church; even if Divine Magic Healing cost a lot, there was at least that possibility.

But in goblin society—assuming goblins have a society—the current situation of these four goblins basically belonged to the category of being sentenced to death and receiving a death notice.

Being driven into the wilderness or Forest to fend for themselves was already considered good; those with worse luck might even be sacrificed by other goblins to who knows what. Some might even be executed directly by the goblin leader, and their corpses then taken to be placed in tree hollows to cultivate Mushrooms or meat worms.

It was even quite possible they would be used as live bait to lure other gluttonous beasts.

As for the other three goblins with bleeding green buttocks, they were lying on the ground in a spread-eagle position, with more air going out than coming in. The bright red blood, the same as humans, dyed the already slightly red sandy ground with an amount of animal blood plasma no less than that splashed on the field by the burly thugs earlier.

The last four ordinary goblins were huddled next to the metal fence where they had come from, in the image of classic goblins in people's traditional impressions, clinging to life and attempting to slip into the lowered metal fence the moment the battle was declared over.

From where they came, back to where they go.

Even if they had been aggressive and arrogant when they arrived, they were now as humble and pitiful as a few Jumping Mice.

Finally, only the goblin leader was still fighting, if the struggle in a battle situation where it was difficult to continue and unable to advance or retreat could be called fighting.

Then it was indeed fighting.

This guy had started out looking furious, repeatedly chasing after every little fluffy ball closest to it, but soon, its limited brain capacity allowed it to understand one thing.

Relying on the agility of those little fluffy balls, it estimated that it would never be able to catch any opponent to vent its anger.

Not only that, the back-and-forth chasing, anger, roaring, and fierce pounding of the ground—which included actions taken after being actively provoked—had all consumed most of its physical strength.

The self-made bone armor that it had previously felt made it look as mighty as a human security guard now made it feel: why is it so heavy?

Why did the thick wooden club that used to be handy now make both of its arms feel sore and unbearable?

With no strength left in its right arm, it had to hand the thick wooden club to its left arm, but soon the left arm also lost its strength, and it had to tuck this weapon into a thick hemp rope that served as a belt on its bone armor.

But even though its hands were empty at this moment, it did not extinguish the idea of using its hands to grab those hateful little fluffy balls.

But it thought too much.

These little fluffy balls, who identified as Warriors among the long-haired lynx Beast-men, were indeed, as they themselves said, some truly deadly hunters in the mountains and forests.

Although they were small in stature, looked like they didn't have much meat on them, and were fluffy all over, these little guys were truly very dangerous, especially when hunting in packs.

"Woo-woo-woo!"

"Meow-woo-woo-ow!"

At this moment, they called out to each other; although ordinary people looked on in confusion, Jier only had to glance at them to know that they were discussing tactics to take down the goblin leader.

"Woo!"

After a few short exchanges, they seemed to have reached a plan, and then, under the command of one of the melee long-haired lynx Beast-men, they took advantage of the moment when the goblin leader was mentally dazed due to exhaustion.

The seven long-haired lynx Beast-men, who had been loosely surrounding the goblin leader, all rushed toward the center of the circle—the goblin leader—at the same time.

And by the time the goblin leader reacted, it was already too late.

Accompanied by a series of body rotations and tail flicks charged with power, the goblin leader's wrists, ankles, and neck were all bound by the thin, sturdy, fluffy tails.

Especially its two ankles, which were firmly entangled by the tails of four long-haired lynx Beast-men.

The next moment, before the goblin leader could exert force to break free, the three long-haired lynx Beast-men binding the goblin leader's neck and wrists began to run in the same direction with all their might.

And the other four long-haired lynx Beast-men dragged the goblin leader's ankles and ran in the opposite direction.

Pulled by these two opposing forces, the goblin chieftain was pulled directly down to the ground.

Bang!

It fell heavily to the ground.

As soon as it fell, the two long-haired lynx-beast Warriors who had been binding its ankles with their tails immediately released them, then used the full strength of their tails to push off the ground. Supporting these two brave fellows, they leaped rapidly toward the goblin chieftain's head.

At this moment, the goblin chieftain still didn't know what was happening; having been pulled down while still dazed, the next moment, its head and face were pounced upon by the two long-haired lynx-beast Warriors, and its eyes went black.

Completely ruined.

It turned out that those two brave melee Warriors, after leaping up, had used the broken weapons in their hands to seize the opportunity before the goblin chieftain could react, stabbing and piercing through the goblin chieftain's pair of blood-red eyes along the observation holes on the front of the Xiaoniutou Gugu.

"Aooooooo!!!!"

This turn of events was extremely unfavorable.

In pain and terror, the goblin chieftain exerted force suddenly, tearing away the strength that had trapped its arms, and then attempted to grab the two audacious things on its head and face by feel amidst the excruciating pain.

But as its hands clamped down fiercely on its own body, it grabbed nothing but air.

This enraged it so much that it pounded the ground with its fists.

"Aooooo!!! Trot trot Trot trot!!! Aoooo!"

The goblin chieftain was beyond furious, pulling out the thick wooden club at its waist and slamming it against the ground all around it.

By this time, everyone knew the goblin was finished, or at least that there was no longer any possibility of a comeback. Therefore, the pauper gamblers watching from the sidelines were shouting loudly, cursing, praising, mocking, crying, and screaming.

Each one was excited and manic, cheering and hateful.

These faces, more twisted than those of evil ghosts, actually frightened the long-haired lynx-beasts in the Fighting Arena who were preparing to kill the goblin chieftain, causing their fur to stand on end, their large round eyes to widen, and the pupils within their eyes to shrink into thin lines.

And the sharp claws on their palms, which they had long since evolved to rarely use, were now unusually extended from the tips of their small palms. Their long tails were also held high, pointing straight into the air behind them, subconsciously adding to their intimidation to scare off their opponent.

This had scared the primitive instincts right out of the long-haired lynx-beasts.

It can only be said that the moment the outcome of the gamble was decided, the various grotesque appearances of the Humans still exceeded the imagination of these uncivilized alien races.

At this time, applause rang out in succession from the VIP viewing gallery high above the Fighting Arena.

It seemed to be encouragement and congratulations for the long-haired lynx-beasts achieving victory in the fight.

At least everyone who heard it thought so, but they did not know that the big shots above, except for Jier and Mr. Scott who were near the stone railing, had not seen the coordinated effort of the alien race that had just won the match.

Compared to the battle in the Fighting Arena below, the matters being discussed by those big shots were on a higher level.

But the goblin chieftain, its eyes blinded, felt only shame from the applause 'congratulating' the furry things on their victory—that which should have belonged to it!

Its applause!

Its victory!

Its everything!!!

As a former ordinary goblin captured by a Human Hunter, compared to being an unremarkable member of a goblin tribe, this place, which was abstract and grotesque to it, was the most important place in its goblin life, its most important everything.

Here, it had reaped the victory of battle, the cheers and 'praise' of the Human things, and had harvested delicious food it had never thought of before, having endless large Jumping Mouse to eat, as well as tasty and chewy animal Viscera; these were all things it could never have enjoyed in the tribe.

Before, when it had not yet been captured by Humans, the thing it ate most every day was the Mushroom grown from rotten wood and plants in the tribe; those things not only didn't fill one up, but after eating them, one had to spend a long time lying on the ground to rest to alleviate the toxicity of the Mushroom.

How could that compare to all the goodness of now?

Moreover, it used to be a lowly goblin laborer who was scolded and ordered around, but in this Bloody Dungeon of the Humans (as it perceived it), it was the goblin chieftain leader who scolded and whipped other goblins, directly bypassing the class of ordinary goblin Warriors (like the Long Spear goblins).

Not to mention that in this Bloody Dungeon, there were also female goblins captured by Human Hunters, and those few female goblins had always been for its own enjoyment alone.

But now, with the shattering of its eyes, the exhaustion of its body, the cheers and praise of the surrounding Human onlookers seeking a new master, and the transfer of the applause that should have been its own, everything, everything was gone.

All of this should have been its own! In this Bloody Dungeon, it was the one who could not be defeated, the invincible one!

"Aoooooooooo!!!"

The goblin chieftain took a deep breath, then roared out suddenly, emitting the loudest sound of its life, accusing the surrounding Humans and declaring its own existence.

Then.

It braced its left arm on the ground, and although its right hand was sore, it still gripped its most handy weapon tightly, aiming at that sound, the exact direction from which the applause came.

It threw the weapon in its hand heavily!

"Quack quack clatter!!!!!"

That was its final roar, and also its name.

It knew.

It had seen it.

In this Bloody Dungeon, no matter how these fellows fought on the scarlet sandy ground, it was fine, but as long as they launched an attack on the Humans watching from the periphery, what followed would be a massacre, a massacre of those fellows fighting in the arena.

And the whipping in the place further below where they were kept and imprisoned.

It understood.

What the consequences of doing this were.

But what did it matter?

It had lost, lost its victory, lost its praise, and thus lost everything. Not to mention that it had also lost the eyes with which to see things.

Ah, eyes, I just wonder, what do my own eyes taste like?

While the various Senior Stewards of the Merchant Union were applauding for Mr. Bantuolisa's speech, the outcome had already been decided in the Fighting Arena below.

Accompanied by the wailing of the pauper gamblers, the heavily wounded goblin chieftain in the arena let out an unusual roar.

This attracted the attention of the Merchants; although quite a few were not very interested in this fight, since they had come, they still had to take a look. But it was this one look that made several people widen their eyes.

That fellow, that goblin chieftain, had actually thrown the thick wooden club in its hand toward here, toward the front of the VIP viewing room.

"Ah—"

Mr. Autosfiten's face turned pale instantly, and he exclaimed, his whole body motionless, as if stunned on the spot.

"Watch out!"

Mr. Scott could only shout in a hurry, then lowered his head to dodge, attempting to rely on the stone railing to block this unexpected attack.

"Mm."

Mr. Bantuolisa was old after all; although he realized at this moment that he needed to dodge, his fifty-year-old body, weathered by storms, could not move, much like rusted metal parts. Even though his movements usually appeared as agile as a young man's, at this moment, he finally realized one thing: he was already old.

"Sir, watch out!"

The short, stout Steward Rosa acted uncharacteristically and did not dodge at this moment. For him, his short, stout body was not easily severely injured by the thick wooden club thrown with a whistle. But he did not dodge, he did not dodge, even though it would have been easy for him. This fellow's short, thick legs leaped up, and he threw himself directly in front of Mr. Bantuolisa, attempting to use his own thick, fat body to block the sudden attack.

"Damn it!"

This was the voice of Mr. 'Withered Aolier'; at this moment, he directly lifted one of his right legs while seated, simultaneously crossing his arms to shield his head and face. Facing such a sudden attack, having his arms broken was better than being hit in the vital parts of his body, head, or face. After all, he himself was a believer of the God of Wealth and an important figure in Duoen Town; severe injuries like broken hands or feet were merely 'minor injuries' that could be healed in half a day under the Prayer of the Church of the God of Wealth.

"Hmph."

Jier was the first among everyone to notice the goblin chieftain launching the attack. Although he was puzzled as to why that stupid thing would do such a thing, he only glanced at it roughly before judging the power of the thick wooden club being thrown.

It was nothing more than that.

Amidst the various movements of others dodging, defending, or remaining indifferent, he merely let out a cold snort, took a single step forward, and blocked the rotating flight path of the thick wooden club.

Immediately, his right hand tugged at the newly purchased cloak behind him, causing this 'Night Ambition' to whip rapidly with the pull of his palm.

Whoosh, crack!

The cloak, filled with force as it whipped, swung directly forward and collided with the thick, spinning wooden club.

The soft fabric seemed far sturdier than anyone had imagined, actually acting like an iron-wrought heavy hammer upon impact, shattering the thick wooden club directly in mid-air.

And as Jier whipped the cloak again, these broken wood fragments and splinters were all flung onto the spectator stands below.

"Ah?"

"What?"

"Truly amazing!"

"Knight Jier!"

"Steward, watch out!"

The exclamations and surprise of the crowd lasted only an instant; Jier loosened the cloak from his right hand with a cold face, then drew and flicked the Long Sword at his left waist.

Clang—

A white beam of light descended from the sky like summer lightning, leaving only a fleeting white spot in everyone's vision.

The next instant, on the bloody ground of the Fighting Arena, the goblin chieftain who had dared to attack the VIP box had nothing left but a sword hilt emitting a faint cyan glow embedded in its crushed, mangled face, pinning the entire head tightly to the blood-red sandy ground with immense force.

Nailed firmly in place.

Leaving only the corpse of the goblin chieftain, whose limbs were still twitching and trembling, clad in bone armor and wearing a seemingly sturdy Xiaoniutou Gugu Helmet.