The opening match of the Transian Boxing Championship had been a real barnburner. The "warm-up" between Governor Murphy and the Vulture Knight seemed to have gotten a little too heated.
A few minutes of fighting had left the Bloodrat Gang's carefully prepared ring in complete disarray. They didn't have the manpower or materials to repair it now, so they had to make do.
Fortunately, Transians were hearty by nature and didn't care about such details. In fact, they felt that continuing to fight bravely in a place where the strong had battled was a tribute to strength. As a result, the remaining fighters became even more enthusiastic.
After Murphy left the ring to the cheers of his people and the players, the championship finally officially began—but the spectators were already thoroughly satisfied.
Transians were rough and violent by nature, with a hint of unruly mischief about them. But that also meant they respected the strong. After seeing Lord Murphy's might with their own eyes, those who had harbored misgivings about continuing to be ruled by a vampire had mostly moved on to a new stage: wholehearted submission.
Making a name for yourself in a place with a fierce and unruly spirit was straightforward. To borrow the madmen's words, all you needed was enough force and dominance—enough strength and power to make your authority sink deep into people's hearts.
And for his people, the only thing better than being ruled and led by a wise and benevolent lord was being ruled by a wise, benevolent, and powerful lord.
This wasn't just a matter of certain unruly Transian tendencies. It was also a basic necessity in a world of magic.
On this continent, where supernatural powers existed, being strong enough meant living a long time. And only by living a long time