"Brute Hammer! Brute Hammer! Brute Hammer!"
"Ice Storm! Ice Storm! Ice Storm!"
Amid the volcanic cheers and roars of support from tens of thousands of spectators, both Ace Gladiators pushed their presence to the absolute limit.
A bloody battle to the death was about to erupt at any moment.
Just then, beneath the arena behind Brute Hammer, dozens of horns suddenly sounded in unison with a glorious war song, while banners adorned with Seven-Colored Feathers and representing victory rose high.
The adjudicator halted the duel.
He announced that Brute Hammer had claimed the final victory.
The stands fell silent for a brief moment.
Then boos erupted, ten times fiercer than the cheers from before.
—Turan Heroes thirsted for a glorious death like travelers who had trekked through the desert for ten days and nights thirsted for sweet water mixed with honey.
During the long Era of Prosperity of the past ten palm-years, there had been no large-scale wars. Even Turan Heroes capable of uprooting mountains and overturning rivers found it difficult to forge unprecedented glory on the battlefield and meet a grand, earthshaking sacrifice.
Back then, the arena was the finest destination, and staining the fighting platform with blood was the best way to die. Most duels would continue until one side was gravely wounded and collapsed, maimed beyond the ability to rise again, or dropped dead on the spot.
There was simply no need for anyone to decide the victor.
Death itself was the finest adjudicator.
But times had changed.
The largest war in the history of the Turan Civilization, and naturally the most glorious one, was about to begin.
Even if they were to die, all Turan Heroes, including the Ace Gladiators, wanted to slaughter hundreds or thousands of enemies before dying on a true battlefield in the