The Taiwan Server System in the League

"In short, just remember the agreement between us—in return, I will keep my promise and provide Mrs. Dodana with a safe and beautiful environment to live in."

After finishing the last sentence, Chen Ce loosened his joints and assumed a combat stance.

Over by the ring, a group of gladiators approached under the guidance of the arena manager.

Each of them was a "star performer" who had previously earned accolades in the arena, and every one of them possessed unique skills and formidable strength.

"Mr. Chen Ce, do you really want to take on ten at once?" The bloated manager tightened his belt, his tone slightly hostile—he had already decided in his heart that this man was here to wreck the place.

"Allow me to confirm with you one last time—you have one final chance to back out."

Hearing this, Chen Ce smiled kindly: "Thank you for your concern, but my mind is made up—I want to take on ten."

"Very well, very well..." The manager's expression darkened. "Then I shall grant your death-wish... Tonight will be your exclusive show, Mr. Chen Ce—a gauntlet of ten against one, with no more than three minutes of rest between each round!"

As his words fell, whispers rippled through the audience—interspersed with sounds of mockery.

Especially those gamblers who had been humiliated by Chen Ce earlier; they were grinning from ear to ear, their greatest wish for the night being to see Chen Ce beaten to a pulp—or better yet, killed.

"Is that so..." Chen Ce pondered for a moment, then added: "I feel that is somewhat inappropriate."

"Scared now?" The manager sneered incessantly.

"Not at all." Chen Ce shook his head, then delivered a line that was a slap in the face:

"I just think one by one is a waste of time—why don't you all come at me together? I'm in a hurry to get back and feed my fox a midnight snack."

"..." At this moment, the manager fell silent.

The crowd in the stands stared at each other in disbelief.

Even Sett, who had accompanied Chen Ce, widened his eyes in shock.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed...?" Sett whispered harshly. "Don't show off like this! I know you're strong, but you have to be careful not to capsize in the gutter!"

Chen Ce smiled without a word, merely gesturing for the gladiators to "please" begin.

At this, the star gladiators, who were used to acting like big shots, could no longer restrain themselves.

With the manager's tacit approval, they grabbed various weapons and vaulted onto the ring.

A roar of excitement erupted from the stands—this was a spectacle they had never seen before.

Although the arena wouldn't even open a betting pool for such a lopsided match, the joy of watching the show far outweighed the thrill of gambling.

The arena was in a complete frenzy.

The gladiators didn't waste any time; as soon as the referee rang the copper bell, they charged. Various weapons and techniques rained down, creating a dazzling and chaotic display.

The crowd only saw them surround Chen Ce and pummel him, the specifics obscured by their hulking frames.

But one thing was certain: none of the gladiators were injured, and each was attacking and following up with vicious intent—it looked like a one-sided slaughter.

"Boo—" A sound of disdain rose from the audience.

They had hoped for an interesting show tonight—even if no one thought Chen Ce could win, he could have at least put up a fight, right?

To be pinned in a corner and slaughtered right from the start—wasn't it over before it even began?

He didn't even try to maneuver.

So arrogant, and this is all he had?

Boring, truly boring.

The crowd jeered in disappointment.

Only Sett, who was particularly sensitive to the dynamics of the ring, noticed something amiss—though the gladiators appeared to have an absolute, overwhelming advantage, a closer look revealed that their attacks were becoming increasingly frantic.

It was as if... they had lost their composure.

A few of them were even breaking out in nervous cold sweat.

Seeing this, Sett couldn't help but recall the "fight" from the night he first met Chen Ce—a "fight" that felt like someone teasing a child.

Sure enough, after a moment of encirclement, the situation on the ring reversed abruptly—it happened in the blink of an eye.

Thud, thud, thud, thud...!

Sounds like someone being struck by a heavy club echoed in succession.

Then, a man, noticeably leaner than the other gladiators, burst out from the crowd.

Not a single scratch could be seen on his face or body.

In his left hand, he gripped his signature spear, and in his right, he held a long sword just snatched from an opponent.

"Now, it's my turn."

Chapter 51 Sett: My head is a bit itchy o.0

The crowd in the arena erupted once more; the duel on the ring was full of twists and turns.

People clearly saw the young man, who should have been severely injured or dead under the pummeling of the gladiators, break through the encirclement unscathed.

He had even managed to snatch a long sword from one of the gladiators along the way.

It was a weapon similar to a long saber—single-edged, slender, with a blade forged from Ionian Steel and a hilt made of a unique type of wood.

"This sword isn't bad. It's mine now."

Chen Ce weighed the newly seized longsword in his hand, finding the balance decent—none of the weapons used by these star gladiators were subpar; they were all expensive and exquisitely crafted.

"To be honest, this is my first time using a sword... I hope you won't laugh if I'm not very good at it."

"Damn it..." The gladiator who had been disarmed was consumed by rage, but the dizziness spreading from his brain throughout his entire body was even more overwhelming.

It wasn't just him; the other nine gladiators were in the same state.

Chen Ce's previous Counter Strike had nearly knocked them out cold on the spot—it was only thanks to their superior physical constitutions compared to ordinary people that they remained standing.

In truth... if Chen Ce had used the spear tip to attack while they were dizzy, those few short seconds would have been enough for him to take out at least several of them.

"Recovered yet? Let's continue." Chen Ce deliberately waited for the gladiators to regain their senses, and then...

He tossed the long spear in his hand aside.

He had conquered everyone present with his masterful spear techniques, yet he now voluntarily discarded the weapon.

It wasn't for show, but to... completely shatter the confidence of these star gladiators and make them realize what a true gap in ability looked like.

A gap that could not be bridged by willpower or rage.

A difference as vast as a mantis trying to stop a chariot, or a mayfly attempting to shake a tree.

"From now on, I will only use the sword, and only with one hand."

Chen Ce held the sword in his right hand and tucked his left hand behind his back.

In an instant, the audience erupted with a roar of cheers unlike anything heard since the Underground Fighting Pit was established.

No one dared to underestimate this seemingly "frail" young man anymore. Everyone was waiting to see what kind of spectacle he would put on—even though there were no betting pools open in the arena right now.

"This brat..." The arena manager's face turned black with rage. Ignoring whether his gladiators could actually win, he issued a death order:

"Kill him! You bunch of useless trash!!"

At his command, the ten gladiators launched another desperate attack—their pride had been wounded by Chen Ce's arrogance, and they were now filled with fury.

Unfortunately, they couldn't even touch Chen Ce anymore.

When Chen Ce used Counter Strike earlier, they at least felt some "impact," but now it felt like they were throwing their full strength into cotton—Chen Ce was like a slippery loach, impossible to grab.

His figure darted and weaved among them, and all they could see was a silver longsword flashing before their eyes.

No... there was something else, too.

A whirlwind.

A strange, sudden whirlwind that had whipped up within the enclosed ring.

The whirlwind seemed to drag Chen Ce's body along, making his speed incredibly fast and his movements exceptionally agile.

He looked like a gust of wind.

Sweeping Blade

This was Press E Aatrox.

"Is this all the strength the strongest batch of gladiators in the Underground Fighting Pit has to offer?"

Chen Ce moved back and forth among the ten men, his blade falling or thrusting from time to time with ease—it was almost as if he were toying with his opponents.

One man toying with ten.

"Trash! You bunch of trash! Can't ten of you even catch one person!!" the manager roared in frustration from below the stage.

The gladiators were already agitated from being unable to land a hit, and this shouting only threw them further into disarray.

Before a single round was over, they were all panting heavily—every veteran fighter knew that attacking with full force at thin air was incredibly exhausting.

Not to mention, most of them were still carrying heavy weapons.

Finally, just as they were about to collapse from exhaustion, Chen Ce stopped playing.

Sharp sword light flooded the entire ring in an instant, and the terrifying gale even knocked over several spectators sitting close to the stage.

The ten gladiators felt their hearts turn to ash, all of them waiting in despair for death to arrive.

But to everyone's surprise... Chen Ce did not deal a lethal blow.

What struck them was only the blunt back of the sword.

Clang, clang, clang, clang—! As the bell rang, the first round ended.

The gladiators had no heart left to continue—they all lay or sat on the ground, gasping for air.

They knew better than anyone that if Chen Ce had wanted to... he could have taken their heads at any moment.

This absolute suppression in both power and technique was something they could never hope to resist...

And so, with the first round over and no casualties, the ten gladiators walked off the stage in unison, a form of surrender.

"Trash! Trash!!" The manager rushed up and kicked at them in a frenzy—unfortunately, his untrained body couldn't hurt those battle-hardened gladiators at all.

They didn't even acknowledge him, merely casting a hateful glance at the manager before walking away on their own.

The arena was filled with cheers, while Chen Ce on the stage simply pressed his hands down calmly, signaling for everyone to quiet down.

He then reached out and pointed directly at Sett, who stood beside the ring with a look of equal shock:

"In this Underground Fighting Pit, only Sett can fight me. The rest of you... are too weak."

As soon as these words left his lips, some were displeased and others looked grim, but the overwhelming response was the hysterical cheering of the audience—he was posturing! He was being damnably arrogant!

But! It was arrogance backed by substance!

Having done all this, Chen Ce picked up the Doran's Spear from the ground and walked off the ring.

Just then, another administrator of the fighting pit blocked his path—not with a fierce, obstructive stance, but with a rather fawning demeanor.

"Mr. Chen Ce, our boss would like to meet you. Do you happen to have a moment?"

Hearing this, Chen Ce revealed a smile that suggested everything was going exactly as expected.

Then, he decisively refused.

"Sorry, not interested."

"Ah...?" The administrator was stunned.

But before he could attempt to persuade him, Chen Ce had already strode out of the Underground Fighting Pit.

Seeing this, Sett was deeply confused, but he followed him out nonetheless.

Leaving the Underground Fighting Pit, the two soon stepped onto the quiet, deserted road home.

Sett finally couldn't help but ask: "What was the point of calling my name back there and then refusing to meet the boss of the Underground Fighting Pit? If you want to help me climb the ranks as quickly as possible, isn't going straight to the boss the fastest way?"

"It is fast, indeed." Chen Ce nodded, "But it's only a short-term gain—the ceiling is too low."

"What do you mean?" Sett asked, puzzled.

"What would happen if you met the boss?" Chen Ce countered.

"What would happen...? Just negotiate terms or something, isn't that good?"