The giants in the arena looked at Longinus with great interest, but they did not regard him as a true opponent.
Out of a warrior's pride, their eyes held only giants of equal strength.
Longinus had heard Giandor mention that the strongest warrior would be challenged by everyone, but it would not be a group attack. Instead, it would be more like a series of one-on-one battles.
If the last one standing in the arena was an "lucky one" whom no one had challenged, such a victor would be unable to gain the recognition of all the giants.
They would rather have no winner at all than allow the glory of warriors to fall into the hands of the weak.
"So I can't hold back today." Longinus muttered to himself, "The strategy of appearing weak at first and making a comeback later doesn't suit giants."
Once all the giants had entered the arena, the atmosphere of the tournament was finally pushed to its climax.
All the giants were frantically calling out the warriors' names, their voices terrifying, like a mountain torrent bursting forth.
"Prince Loki!"
"Berserker Basaka!"
"Warrior Helding!"
"Poet Giandor!"
Longinus rubbed his ears and easily picked out the few who received the loudest cheers.
But what the hell was Poet Giandor?
Could it be because he told too many stories and people mistook him for a bard?
"Feast of the brave, begin!"
With a great roar from the Giant King, the four areas instantly descended into chaos.
All these giants knew that the most eye-catching person would be targeted by everyone, but they were still eager to become that person.
"Arnold, taste the might of my axe!"
"Kyle, you're the one who's going to be smashed out of here by my iron hammer!"
The two giants charged at