The Arena

Leyndell was the largest city in the world by area. If one truly tried to tour it on foot, ten days to half a month would never be enough. The two of them clearly did not have that much time right now, so Lansseax merely planned a relatively simple route—starting from the Ancient Dragon Temple, passing through the Ancient Dragon Plaza in the east of the city, following Belleville Avenue straight into the lower district, then circling around a small part of the south through those nameless streets and alleys as dense as a spiderweb before returning to the Golden Sanctuary.

In the capital's urban planning, the small area north of the Golden Sanctuary was where princes, ministers, and nobles gathered, while the broad southern region was where commoners, small merchants, and artisans worked and lived. The two were divided by the Leyndell River extending from Lake Leyndell outside the city, commonly known as the upper and lower districts.

The two of them had dressed and planned their route today precisely for the lower district. As the main part of the Golden Capital, making up seventy percent of it, this district, which gathered large numbers of residences, markets, and workshops, was the place that could truly display Leyndell's local customs. As for the upper district, where every inch of land was worth gold and luxury and prosperity abounded, Lucia, who already lived inside the Golden Sanctuary, naturally had no need to tour or visit it.

After crossing Caven Bridge at the southern end of Belleville Avenue and entering the south of the city, Lucia immediately sensed an atmosphere completely different from that of the upper district. The buildings' exteriors were still grand and magnificent, but they paid far more attention to compact structure and efficient use of space. The commoners' clothing was much plainer than that of the rich in the north of the city, yet it could still be called decent.

Besides that, the number of wandering mercenaries and adventurers on the streets had multiplied. Most of them wore inferior leather armor and iron armor, and the only valuable things on their bodies were basically one or two handy weapons at their waists or backs. Their gazes lingered from time to time on passing merchant caravans and the arenas that could be seen everywhere in the city, their hawk-like eyes flashing with hunger for opportunity.

Lucia had learned about the appearance of Leyndell's lower district from books and other people's descriptions before. The scene before his eyes was not much different from what he had imagined, but it was far more vivid and real. As he listened to Lansseax's introduction, he patiently observed every detail, gradually merging the Leyndell in his mind with reality through constant confirmation and thought.

In his view, all external appearances could reveal the deeper reasons behind them. Take Leyndell's commoner ecology as an example: the standard of living for ordinary people here was already enough to rival the knight class of Farum Azula. As long as they were not "lowly wretches" born slaves, such as Misbegotten or Demi-humans, every human who lived in Leyndell and was known as one of the "Golden People" could obtain excellent living conditions and considerable respect.

Even looking across the entire Golden Dynasty, such material standards were limited to Leyndell alone. Behind this phenomenon was the factor of Leyndell's productive power, several times greater than that of other large cities of the same era, but even more so, it was because of the endless transfusion from the outside world.

The capital's residents almost never engaged in heavy and inefficient physical labor such as farming, animal husbandry, or mining. Long before the Dragon-Tree War, their types of work had already shifted on a large scale into industry, commerce, and services. As for raw materials and basic living supplies, all of them relied on transportation from the outside world.

Ore materials and cloth were processed here into fine weapons and gorgeous garments, then, after subtracting the capital's own consumption, sold by merchant caravans to every corner of the continent. Through decades of similar cycles, the Golden People had gained the highest material standard on the entire continent, and the national strength of the whole dynasty had also flourished through Leyndell, this central hub.

And that astonishing number of mercenaries and adventurers was not a sign of a chaotic situation. Quite the opposite. It was precisely because the Golden Dynasty had maintained extremely strong national power and a very high speed of external expansion over the past few decades that large numbers of wandering warriors pursuing wealth and glory came here because of its reputation.

Even today, the Golden Army still maintained the highest proportion of mercenaries among the three great dynastic armies. Kaidan, known as the "Land of Mercenaries," had almost become the Erdtree's exclusive source of troops. In countless past campaigns, the Kaidan mercenaries, skilled in archery and horsemanship, had already become the backbone of the Golden Army, second only to Leyndell Knights. By comparison, Caria was likewise equipped with quite a few Cuckoo Knights of mercenary origin, but they had never truly gained the trust of the Carian Royal Family, and were far from qualified to become the dynasty's main force.

Aside from the mercenary path, the many arenas established since the era of the First King Godfrey were also a way for these wandering warriors to make names for themselves and rise in the world.

Nobles often resolved some irreconcilable disputes in the arena through honor duels. Of course, the vast majority of respectable nobles would not personally participate in such barbaric brawls. Unless one side personally entered the field and specifically demanded that a noble of equal status fight in person, they would all appoint warriors under their command to participate in the duel on their behalf. For some minor nobles who lacked powerful dependents under their roofs, temporarily hiring these experienced wandering warriors who lived by the blade was undoubtedly the best choice.

Besides that, these arenas, belonging to top nobles or even members of the royal family, already had their own competitive systems. They unconditionally accepted all fighters unafraid of bloodshed as contestants, and would even issue standardized arms of excellent quality to some adventurers who could not afford weapons. Through a strict and fair points-based competition system, they determined the truly strong.

The winner of every match could receive a handsome prize, while warriors who won consecutive victories would be invited to participate in leagues jointly held between multiple arenas. The strongest fighters with the best yearly records often gained the favor of great nobles, soaring to success from then on and becoming personally retained guards supported at great expense, or even officers in some noble private armies. As for the losers, the arenas' written rules forbade killing human opponents, but apart from that, injuries and maiming were the price the contestants had to bear.

Ever since that era under Godfrey's rule, when martial spirit was in full bloom, this kind of activity had endured throughout the nation. People, as if by common agreement, called it the "Combat Festival."

"What? We're entering too?" Lucia stood before a large arena named "Serant," staring in astonishment at Lansseax, who was clearly in high spirits.

"Let's play a couple rounds. It won't hurt. It's not my first time here anyway." Lansseax dragged him inside without giving him a chance to object.

Hey, hey, hey, from that tone, you're definitely a repeat offender, aren't you! As Lucia grumbled inwardly, he could not help recalling Sister Lans's glorious deeds of repeatedly beating up nobles of the Golden Dynasty over the past ten years. Among those rare legendary cases where someone personally entered the field and named another noble to fight, he blindly guessed this woman had to account for at least more than half!

Fortunately, the two of them had both disguised themselves in advance today. The supervisor at the arena's front desk did not recognize Lansseax's identity at all. He merely registered fighter numbers for the two of them as usual, then issued them black iron sword-shaped medals representing the lowest rank of fighter.

"Lans, number 9856, black iron fighter."

"Lucifer, number 9857, black iron fighter."

Old Hart, the supervisor at the arena's front desk, closed the registration book before him, which was as thick as a dictionary, and habitually stroked the goatee on his chin. Without lifting his head, he said, "In about half an hour, each of you can be assigned to one bout. Do you need weapons issued?"

"No need. We brought our own," "Lans" said casually.

The moment Old Hart heard that voice, all the hairs on his body stood on end. He hurriedly raised his small balding head to look, but the other party had already passed the front desk and was familiarly leading "Lucifer" toward the interior of the arena.

"Good thing it isn't..." Old Hart narrowed his eyes behind his thick reading glasses and stared for a long while. After confirming that the other party was not that Ancient Dragon priestess, he let out a lingering sigh of relief.

Though this arena had the backing of Duke Duoris, who was currently a hot figure in court, and could usually host honor duels for nobles without any pressure, that did not mean he was willing to carry half-dead golden heroes out every single day. If he watched the important figures make fools of themselves every other day, was he supposed to keep running this arena or not?

Thinking of this, he opened the registration book he had just closed again. When he saw the name Lans, his eyelid could not help twitching, and many unpleasant memories immediately rose in his mind. Fortunately, the two characters "Lans" by themselves were just an extremely common name. He had seen it no fewer than five times in these past two weeks. But this Lucifer...

"What kind of weird name is that?" Old Hart frowned. Having just freed himself from terror, he decided to vent a little. With a flick of the pencil in his hand, he temporarily adjusted Lucia's opponent for the next bout.

"Heh. You caught this old man in a bad mood, so count yourself unlucky, kid!"