Transcending Realms With My Leveling System As A Demon-Chapter 78: Match-Fixing

Something then flickered into Zylus’s mind. He walked back towards Zarek, who lay on the floor, conscious, but extremely pained.

"Hey," Zylus called out. He crouched down to get eye to eye with Zarek, "Your last names Fross, right?"

The knight looked at both of them as the crowd went silent, attempting to overlook what had made Zylus come back.

"You only get two minutes," the guard interrupted, "two minutes to exchange words, unless you wish to kill him, of course."

Zylus gazed towards the guard, "No need, let me just have a word."

The knight nodded as he stepped back outside, with the fifth rank vomiting all over the floor.

Back inside the glass barrier...

"Uhhhhhh!" Mordain Avaris, the fifth rank, continuously vomited from the drinks he had carried as the women who clung onto him backed away disgustingly.

She ran into the tunnel behind them, afraid of getting any of that dirty puke onto her.

"You okay, sir?" The commentator quickly consulted him inside the glass barrier they were on, the highest level above anybody else, where two guards comforted them, validating their safety.

Mordain put a hand out, "nothing to worry about, just a little-"

As he looked back into the arena, he saw Zylus- no, not anymore, now, he only saw a man that went by, ’Noelle Crucifix.’

He saw Noelle lifting the chin of Zarek, glaring maliciously into his eyes, as the commentator watched quietly.

"How has this happened?" Mordain wondered out loud, shocked, "Zarek has lost?!"

He slammed down on the table above them, his emerald seat slightly shaking from his extraordinary shape. He continued to glare intently, confused.

"What do you mean?" The commentator looked over to him nervously, "You were watching this entire time-"

"I was drunk! I wasn’t focusing well!" Mordain declared angrily, stepping up. "Who even is that guy Zareld?!"

"Recruit, or..." The commentator, also called Zareld, paused, "A new fighter, Noelle Crucifix. A charming name, don’t you agree?"

"I don’t care if it’s charming or not! That was Zarek! How has Zarek lost?!" Mordain wanted more answers compared to what he had already been given. "I don’t believe this blasphemy!"

"Well," Zareld smiled nervously, looking at the masked man below, "what do you want me to do?"

"We can’t let word get out!" Mordain commanded as his guards took metal swords from their sides, which illuminated with systemic flow. "If it does, I have to pay a hefty fee! I’ve lost a bet!"

"What will you do then?" Zareld asked, gazing back at him.

Mordain grinned, "Guards, go and get him." He gazed towards the commentator, "And Zareld, you know what to do."

Zareld nodded as he took the microphone, almost as though just by Mordain’s command, he knew his role already.

"Attention!" The sound screeched into the entire audience, "There has been some match fixing!"

The crowd whispered to one another, a huge gulp filled through the arena.

"No wonder that masked man one."

"I literally knew it, bro, no one’s able to beat Zarek, he’s a fucking tank."

"As punishment, they should take off his mask." A woman giggled in the crowd, "What if he has a handsome face under there?"

"Hey!"

"I’m teasing you," she adorably told her boyfriend, "I would never dare to cheat on you..." She paused, "That guy doesn’t count." Her whisper didn’t elicit any recognition from the man beside her.

Nobody asked what Zylus did to match-fix, they just followed a long.

"Silence, please!" Zareld continued as Zylus gazed upwards into the crowd, "The winner by decision is Zarek Fros!"

Zylus spat out, his glare darkened, "match fixing? Fuck do I look like?"

Zarek spat out blood as he giggled. Zylus looked down, "What’s so funny?"

"They always have their word, Mordain, or any of them." He said, "That’s why they never once let me leave in the past fifteen years, to see my sister."

Zylus looked down, "So you are..." As he was about to finish the sentence, the knight tossed him a bag of coins, a heavy bag at that, and he stuffed it in his pocket.

"These are your earnings, good job. Talk to any knight whenever you want to exchange for food or something useful to you." He paused, the armor slightly tingled onto his skin, "Now, let’s get you back to your cell."

As Zylus stood, "Hold on, give me some more time-"

"Your time is over." The guard demanded, "Let’s go."

As Zylus was about to retaliate, he paused, thinking about what he had just been given.

"This was all I needed," he stared at the sack of coins he had been given, taking them out of his pocket, and then putting them back. "So, why can’t I just escape now?"

"But I thought that I had lost the fight, why am I still being given earnings?" Zylus asked, looking towards the guards.

"Well, they’re trying to pull some strings so they have their way. But you’ll be compensated with good hands, so that the word doesn’t get out-"

As he was about to continue, two guards who once stood inside the fifth rank’s barrier walked slowly.

Zylus and the guard beside him looked up.

"We’ll take it from here, Chris, well done."

"Good job, Mordain wants you in his office later tonight."

Chris nodded as he started walking away, "Be sure to give me my bonus."

"That’s up to Mordain," both of them giggled, "not us."

Chris started walking away angrily, but awkwardly; he clearly didn’t want to defy them.

Both those guards stared at one another with the same suit of armor Chris had, the same headgear as well, covering everything but their mouths and eyes.

"He’s a third rank in Mordain’s army, let him be."

"Yeah," one of them paused, "who’s going to tell him that he’s not getting his bonus?"

"Alright, anyways, back to the matter here." They looked intently towards Zylus, "Come with us, kid. Let’s get going."

Zylus looked up, "Kid? Where do you plan on taking me?"

"Oh... well..."

They stepped closer, "the secret chamber, of course."