Warlock Apprentice

There were fewer participants in the Three Levels of Death. Also, the rules of the match were changed.

Rules regarding match points remained the same. Actually, since there was less competition, they actually needed fewer points to get promoted here.

The rules for fights were different. Previously, fighters could draw an opponent and join the match right away. In the last three levels, however, the match began the next day, which meant the participants had one night to prepare. Also, the audiences could take advantage of this rule and choose which match to watch in advance. Of course, they had to pay ticket money to Sky Tower.

There were even cases in which a match between two popular fighters was scheduled one or two weeks earlier so that the workers had enough time to advertise.

For this reason, Angor also had to wait until tomorrow if he wanted to do a match.

Angor stayed at Level 13 and watched several more fights. All of the fighters were elites of their classes. Without using his alchemy weapon, he had no hope in defeating any of them.

After seeing enough fights and getting to know the strengths of his opponents, Angor came to the lottery section to choose his rival for tomorrow.

Angor frowned a little after reading the chart.

As he remembered, participants only needed 45 points to reach the next level. All of these people had enough points, but they chose to stay here.

“People all have similar levels of strengths in the last three levels, so they don’t really need to move on. When someone gets his name on the list, he can receive a certain amount of merit points each month. Moving to the next level means eliminating your current points, so you see, they all stayed,” the old man explained.

“I understand now.”

“Do you see what I meant now? Most of the ones waiting in the lottery pool are on the ranking list.” The elder smiled. “That weapon of yours isn’t likely to help you get through these guys.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Mister. But I still want to join,” Angor spoke.

“Suit yourself then.” The old man handed the lottery box to Angor.

Angor reached a hand inside. Just like the old man said, there were few balls in the box.

He took out a random one with the number “000539” on it.

A line quickly showed up on the transparent screen in front of the old man: [Baron Milk VS Wasteland Warrior]

“Tsk, tough luck, you. It’s a ranked one,” The old man shook his head.

Wasteland Warrior, No. 37, 69 match points.

In Dave’s data, Wasteland Warrior was described as a level-2 Bloodline apprentice who had fused the blood of an Earthen Salamander into his body. To Angor, this one sounded like someone with good defense. The ordinary crossbow bolts probably would not work.

“I can schedule more opponents, right? I’ll keep going,” Angor spoke.

“You sure about it?”

“I am.”

The old man did not comment. He stared at Angor’s determined expression and grew really curious. He already scanned Angor’s body using a special spell, and he did not find anything particular aside from that alchemy weapon on the boy’s wrist. So… how could this Baron Milk be so confident?

“Alright then. I’m looking forward to your… method.” The old man concluded that this boy was simply looking to die. He would not have spoken to Angor at all if Sunders was not behind this. “Pick another one then. Melantha said you must wait five minutes between matches. But there are just too few matches in the queue, so that rule doesn’t work here. Come tomorrow morning, and I’ll arrange your matches. Now, draw another opponent.”

The elder gave Angor the lottery box again.

Match two: [Baron Milk VS Twilight of Night]

Another participant on the ranking list. No. 41, 61 match points.

Angor thought about Dave’s data. This one was a level-2 Bloodline apprentice as well, but the exact type of blood was unknown. The only thing he knew was that Twilight of Night was someone extremely fast.

Fast, huh? Angor sneered in his mind. Faster than Toby? Not likely.

“I’m continuing,” Angor spoke again.

The old man squinted his eyes and shook his head. “You have zero points now. Granting you two chances is already a bonus. Earn some points first if you want to queue up for more matches.”

Angor understood. People’s points were only transferred between each other. The Sky Tower would not allow him to join further matches if he lost the first one and caused his points to go below zero.

Also, if he was killed in the first match, his second opponent would gain a victory and points for free.

This was unfair to everyone else in Sky Tower.

Thinking about this, Angor nodded and accepted the situation.

“I might sound bothersome, but I’ve to remind you again. Don’t die.”

… Or I’m going to have a really hard time telling Sunders about it , the old man mumbled the second half of his speech inside his mind.

“Thank you kindly, Mister.”

“Don’t call me that, the name’s Baroque.”

…

People called the last three levels in Sky Tower as “Levels of Death”. It meant that everyone who wished to triumph in the end had to go through three deadly paths.

Angor, however, only had to get past two levels. His goal was to reach the top level instead of beating it. Thus, he did not have to join more matches in the last level. In other words, he was only going to fight against opponents in Levels 13 and 14.

There were only two levels left, so Angor believed he could finally reveal his other secret tricks.

During his days of challenge, he also practiced all kinds of teamwork with Toby. Now it was time to release his bird!