Chapter 8: The Sky Arena
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To draw an analogy, Flash City is much like Los Angeles on Earth. Among the world’s top three airship manufacturers, both “Windless Bird” and “Helam” are headquartered here. At the same time, the city boasts thriving food and clothing industries. With the world’s largest airship airport and the significant port of Flash Harbor located here, its cargo throughput ranks first globally.
After more than seven hours on the train, Heather finally arrived in Flash City, though her real travel destination lay elsewhere. The travel writer Guo Gai, whom she had encountered earlier on the train, had already disembarked halfway without even a greeting—clearly, he realized his hidden intentions had been uncovered by Heather and hastened to make his escape.
Heather, however, paid him no mind, focusing her full attention on her novel instead.
Exiting the train station, Heather followed the recommendations in the Flash City Travel Guide and chose the renowned restaurant “High Rock Fireplace Hall” as the battleground for her dinner.
As the name suggests, High Rock Fireplace Hall specializes in barbecue, excelling in the use of open flame grills. Whole sausages, slightly charred ribs waiting to be sliced, and tender, juicy beef brisket dazzled the eyes like Christmas tree lights, joyfully draping around the restaurant’s central, massive open-flame grill.
The restaurant’s proud signature dish was the “Hall of Fame Set.” A massive platter piled high with thick slices of tender, juicy roasted beef brisket, crispy crackling mixed salad, wobbly pure-meat sausages, ribs drenched in sweet, rich sauce, a bowl containing thirty-two varieties of dipping sauces (refills unlimited), pickles, halved baked potatoes, all accompanied by a bottle of ice-cold beer freshly lifted from a bed of ice.
Heather had to admit, this meal was truly satisfying.
At 8:40 p.m., she arrived at Helam International Airport, situated at the northernmost tip of both Flash City and the continent of Eurubian. From here, airships could take her directly to the Sky Arena.
In the Hunter’s World, there were no airplanes, but airships were abundant.
The 100,000 Kaini ticket for the airship was indeed worth it. The interior was vast—about the size of a football field—and despite its enormous size, the airship was quite fast. The in-flight meal from Helam Airlines was simple yet delicious, particularly the coffee and cake, which were exceptional.
Ding-dong!
“Dear passengers, thank you for flying with Helam Airlines. The Sky Arena will be arriving shortly. Please remain seated and avoid moving around freely. There will be slight vibrations upon landing; please do not be alarmed...”
Heather lifted her blindfold, stretched comfortably, and glanced out the airship window.
The weather was poor. Outside, a massive tower adorned with various buildings and exhibition platforms jutted into the skyline, resembling a giant sword stirring the dense clouds.
The Sky Arena, with its 251 floors and soaring 991 meters tall, was the fourth tallest building in the world.
Following the crowd out of the aviation terminal, Heather saw dozens of dedicated buses lined up, heading straight to the Sky Arena. Located in the Yosk district of the Archfield continent, adjacent to the Republic of Bartocia, all public facilities, residences, and even the city itself were built entirely around the Sky Arena.
At the base of the Sky Arena.
Heather scratched her head, looking at the seemingly endless queue.
“So lively, huh?”
She glanced down at the brochure in her hand, a free guidebook distributed by the tour hostess to everyone in line.
[No strict rules—anyone who can defeat their opponent can advance.]
[Each time a contestant advances, they ascend a floor, and the prize money increases accordingly.]
[On average, 4,000 people challenge higher floors daily.]
[Over one billion spectators attend annually, with all imaginable facilities inside.]
[High-level warriors may even claim an entire floor.]
[This is the sanctuary of barbarians, the paradise of fighters.]
Though the line looked long, it moved swiftly, and within an hour, it was Heather’s turn.
“Welcome to the Sky Arena. Please fill out your information here. To ensure your safety, it’s important to provide accurate details, as this affects your opponents and difficulty level.”
At the registration window, a sweet-faced female attendant dressed in a uniform adorned with a fist emblem handed the form to Heather with both hands.
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Name, age, and gender were not the issue; the key was the last field: [Combat Experience]. Heather pondered briefly and wrote down [15 years].
That should secure her a discerning referee and more interesting opponents.
Stepping into the grand lobby on the first floor of the Sky Arena revealed the true scale of the building. Apart from a hall that could accommodate thousands, several “small” arenas were partitioned off, each with its own number.
Heather, assigned number [2415], was placed in Zone F. This was a huge square arena with several hundred scattered spectators seated in stands on all four sides—some were participants preparing to fight, others enthusiastic bettors cheering on.
At the center, sixteen square platforms were arranged in a 4x4 grid. On each, two combatants fought fiercely under the watchful eye of a dedicated referee.
“Contestants 2415 and 1793, please proceed to ring K.”
After only a brief wait in the stands, it was Heather’s turn to fight, apparently drawn by the computer.
Amid the noisy cheers of the crowd, Heather faced a hulking, muscular giant. It was unclear whether the cheers were for her or her opponent.
“It’s Montel! That guy’s lucky—his opponent’s just a scrawny runt!”
“Kid, don’t wet your pants out of fear, hahaha!”
“Let me go! This is the best chance to advance!”
Heather’s lips twitched; clearly, the cheers weren’t for her.
The narrow-eyed referee stood rigidly beside the ring and explained solemnly:
“Matches on the first floor will assess the participants’ strength based on victory or defeat. Both fighters should do their best within three minutes.”
“Begin!”
Montel cracked his knuckles loudly.
“Kid, don’t blame me if I hit hard—you’ll be in the hospital for two months!”
Like an enraged bull, he charged at Heather, pounding the platform with heavy footsteps. Perfect—a knockout punch to this four-eyed little monkey!
He landed a fist on Heather, but before he could revel in his success, he realized there was no solid impact. His blow had struck only a phantom image.
Suddenly, Montel’s abdomen tingled; his vision blurred as he was rapidly pushed back and then suddenly airborne.
The crowd’s noise abruptly ceased, like a hen’s neck was snapped.
From the referee’s and spectators’ perspectives, a towering man over two meters tall had been blasted several meters into the air, crashing into a solid wall like a cannonball. The visual impact was overwhelming.
“Don’t worry, he’s still alive.”
Heather smiled wryly at the stunned referee. Was this considered shooting fish in a barrel?
“Number 2415, you may advance directly to the fiftieth floor.”
Despite Heather deliberately emitting her mental aura, the referee was completely oblivious, simply handing her a ticket printed with her number and the floor.
“Please continue to do your best.”
Makes sense—a referee who can perceive aura wouldn’t be assigned to judge first-floor rookies. Feeling like she was batting her eyes at a blind man, Heather took the ticket.
“This way, please.”
Another lovely attendant greeted her. The Sky Arena knew how to please its guests. Heather followed the lively young woman toward the elevator, the air filled with cheerful chatter.
“Within the Sky Arena, floors up to the two hundredth are grouped by tens. Winning on the fiftieth floor promotes you to the sixtieth. Losing drops you to the fortieth. After the one hundredth floor, private rooms become available.”
Finally free of the bubbly attendant, Heather ascended to the sixtieth floor.
The atmosphere here was entirely different from the first floor. Fewer contestants, but all seasoned veterans.
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Showing her ticket at the service window, Heather received a paltry prize of only 152 Kaini.
“Barely enough for a can of juice.”
Helplessly stuffing the coins into her pocket, she said to the attendant, “Please arrange my next match as soon as possible.”
“Huh? Don’t you need a break?” The attendant was surprised. “You just got promoted from the lower floors; you must be exhausted.”
“No rest needed. Please arrange it for me.”
“Alright, please wait a moment… You may proceed to the contestants’ lounge with this ticket.”
The modest lounge had only a few rows of lockers and benches, crowded with fighters. The moment Heather entered, all eyes turned to her, puzzled how such a frail, four-eyed frog had been allowed into the fiftieth floor. Bribed referees?
“Mr. Toma Dice, Mr. Long Si Mian, please proceed to the 55th floor, ring A.”
“Mr. Mario, Ms. Koopa, please proceed to the 57th floor, ring B.”
Huh? Did she just hear some strange names?
Heather sat idly in the lounge, waiting. It seemed that every ten floors had multiple rings for contestants to battle in.
About twenty minutes later, her name was announced over the loudspeaker.
“Mr. Dakado, Ms. Heather, please proceed to the 59th floor, ring C.”
The 59th-floor ring C was packed with over a thousand spectators, the lights focused on the single ring at the center. Both fighters awaited the referee’s command.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience!”
“This next match will not disappoint!”
The female host, wearing a headset, stirred the crowd with rapid-fire energy.
“Both fighters are formidable! They showed outstanding performance on the first floor and jumped directly to the fiftieth floor! The large screens will now show highlights of their previous battles.”
Four large screens suspended above the ring simultaneously played footage of Heather and Dakado’s fights.
“Mr. Dakado is like an immovable mountain; no attack leaves even the slightest mark! His counterpunches can even stir the curtains above the stands!”
“Ms. Heather moves like lightning, her speed so fast it creates afterimages. Though slender, she possesses immense strength, knocking a 200-kilogram giant out of the park!”
“Everyone ready to place your bets? Then press your buttons now!”
Beep—!
The screen displayed Heather’s odds at 2.075 and Dakado’s at 1.500.
“The betting favors Dakado! It’s his invincible defense that inspires confidence, isn’t it?”
Tch, underestimated again.
Heather stretched her arm and looked across the ring at Dakado—a roughly two-meter-tall muscular man, bare-chested with flawless skin, his shaved scalp gleaming bluish. He stared at her with blazing confidence.
“This match will be three minutes over three rounds, scored by knockdowns.”
“Begin!”