As Caesar sat down, he couldn't help but notice the clan heads who were sitting next to Musashi abruptly stand up. They took off their fancy-looking garbs and adorned clothes more fit for fighting, presumably for the upcoming matches. Following the next round, the clan heads would be participating in the tournament, after all.
Caesar carefully examined each clan head, their statures and appearance varied greatly from each other. Naturally, their power levels would as well. Each clan head represented a different faction; for example, Leo led the hunters and was in charge of gathering food.
Caesar wasn't aware of what each and every clan head represented, as he didn't think it held much importance. However, he knew that Faust was in charge of discipline, and Khan was in charge of guarding the front gates.
While Caesar was in the midst of contemplation, his eyes radiated a crimson hue. He inspected each of the thirteen clan heads to gauge their power vaguely. Although the number of weaknesses and injuries couldn't accurately estimate their strength, it still gave Caesar a general idea.
He soon ranked each clan head with Faust having the least visible problems with his body. The others were generally equal, with only Leo being a tad bit weaker than the rest. Caesar assumed his young age was the reason for that. Although the older you are, the more your body deteriorates, Caesar's eyes didn't only see weaknesses in the physique but also flaws within a fighting stance.
At first, Caesar's eyes could only vaguely see a few red dots or lines which varied in color, depending on how severe the weakness or injury was. But now, flaws within movements, stances, and even footwork were all visible before his eyes.
Once Caesar got the information he wanted, he simply adverted his gaze and looked elsewhere. The target of his attention was the handsome man with closed eyes, who also happened to be looking in Caesar's direction.
Seeing that the man was looking at him, Caesar stood up and dusted off his buttocks while walking towards him. He was quite curious as to who this mysterious man was, although Caesar had a good idea, he didn't want to make any incorrect assumptions.
Caesar leisurely walked past the many ongoing fights and approached the man who still retained his closed eyes, which made Caesar wonder if he was blind or merely handicapping himself.
While in the midst of these thoughts, Caesar was soon only a few feet away from the man, who was standing in the middle of his ring. His clothes were fluttering in the air along with his raven black hair, creating an almost breathtaking image. His looks were capable of making others awestruck. However, he still fell short when compared to Caesar's natural beauty and grace.
"It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance," Caesar said courteously while putting his right hand out in greeting.
After the breeze carried Caesar's words, the man didn't respond, and an awkward silence ensued. Caesar's right hand was left motionless in the air and stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Ebisu," the man replied back curtly, without bothering to raise his hand.
Caesar took back his hand, and a wide smile formed at his lips. He didn't mind Ebisu's rude behavior in the least. He thought it was cute and childish. As a man who at heart, was over sixty years old in age, he expected such behavior from children, such as the one in front of him.
"I presume you are related to that lass… Akari," Caesar asked curiously, not hiding the amusement in his tone.
Caesar's words caused Ebisu to frown. However, he didn't admit to it, nor did he open his lips again. Though, this reaction was enough to prove that Caesar's hypothesis was, indeed, correct.
Caesar chuckled and turned away, walking back to his arena. He figured Ebisu was a man with few words. Thus, he didn't stay and talk. If Ebisu wanted to get revenge or something silly like that, they would solve their differences in the ring. That is if they had enough luck to be matched together.
Thinking to here, Caesar laughed louder and soon made it to his ring. Upon arrival, he looked around the training grounds and noticed most of the matches for round four were starting to wrap up.
Seeing this, Caesar didn't dally and also prepared himself by recuperating as much mana as he could. As mana existed in most living things, whether they were capable of using it or not, Caesar, as a vampire, was exceptionally talented at absorbing that mana. Without even moving his body, he started consuming the small amount of mana within the air, though small, it would suffice for now.
Caesar stood there in a silent trance as if he were frozen in time, only his hair and clothes fluttered in the air while his expression stayed placid. Once around 10 minutes passed, Caesar's red eyes flashed open, and the referee who was only a few inches away from him entered into his line of sight.
In a moment of shock, the referee stumbled back a few steps and fell on his bottom. He had been trying to get Caesar's attention for the last few minutes. However, he did not react. Just when the referee was about to give up, Caesar abruptly flashed open his eyes, which startled the poor referee.
"Yes?" Caesar asked curiously.
"Ah. yes… your match is starting soon. Please prepare," The referee said while standing up and dusting off his clothes. His expression was unsightly, and he trotted to the edge of the arena while whispering his grievances.
Caesar didn't pay the referee much heed but instead, focused more on his approaching opponent. His face was rough and possessed a relatively large beard, his eyes sharp and his body well built. Although he had a beard, he still looked somewhat young, probably around the age of 25 Caesar mused.
After scrutinizing the man, Caesar didn't feel much of a threat, so he breathed out a sigh of relief. His last two fights had been far too surprising, and out of the ordinary, Caesar didn't know how he encountered two clan head-like figures while in the top 125 and 65.
As if noticing Caesar's relief, the man frowned in displeasure and took out two wooden axes. They were quite small and looked similar to hatchets, his hands wrapped around their short handles tightly.
"I will not admit defeat!" He said challengingly while crouching down and entering into a strange stance.
"That's the spirit…" Caesar said casually while raising his fists, and right as the referee's voice entered into their ears, they both charged forward. The man with axes slashed down at Caesar, who was holding his speed back.
Caesar could see the trajectory of the axes as if they were moving in slow motion, his arms shot up like a staff and quickly struck the man's wrist. Blasting it upward and one of his axes falling to the ground in the process.
Caesar didn't stop there, and in one motion, he turned his torso and kicked the man in the abdomen, blasting him out of the ring in a matter of a mere two seconds. The referee didn't even put his hand down after beginning the fight, let alone see what had transpired during the battle.
Only the sound of Caesar's whisper entering into his ears brought him back into reality, "you honored your word and truly did not admit defeat... " Caesar whispered and turned back to face the clan heads.
He sent them a provocative wink with a bloodthirsty smile. He knew not when the trolls were going to attack, or if Soka was going to be successful in his recon mission. But one thing was for certain, he was going grasp, purge, mold, and reform the fox-kin tonight — no matter the cost.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Caesar's playful wink didn't receive much of a reaction from the clan heads. However, he could tell their solemnity had increased after witnessing his fight. This was, after all, a tournament that decided whether or not they could maintain their position on the council.
After a few moments, Caesar shifted his attention from the clan heads and focused on Musashi, who still had an easy-going smile on his face. In response, Musashi returned Caesar's gaze and nodded his head.
Though short, this exchange was caught by many fighters, spectators, and even some of the clan heads. Thus far, Musashi hadn't placed much importance on a fight, let alone a single person. This garnered the envy of many fighters while also capturing the curiosity
of the spectators.
Most of the people present had no clue as to why Musashi abruptly started this tournament in the first place, especially when the war with the trolls was still ongoing. Even now, many of them were afraid of being surprise attacked, however, Musashi and the upper echelons still had the energy to host a grandiose tournament such as this.
This confused many pedestrians and fighters alike, alas, it was quite different from their usual routine, and it also raised their morale. However, not many people understood that from a troll's perspective, there would be absolutely no reason to attack the fox-kin stronghold in its current state. Not only was their morale currently raised, but most of the elites were pumped up and ready for battle.
A siege was much more likely to take place during a time when their soldiers were sleeping or not expecting it. Musashi wasn't stupid. He had naturally prepared a few countermeasures and doubled the guards at the front gates… lowering the chances of being assaulted even further.
Although this was a simple deduction from Caesar, not many people were capable of understanding such simplistic matters. Caesar did, however, expect that there was another unknown reason for why the trolls had not launched an attack thus far. There was simply no reason to let the fox-kin rebuild after their devastating state when Caesar had first arrived.
Caesar didn't know why the trolls were so hesitant, nor could he understand how they infiltrated the fox-kin so thoroughly. Although confused, Caesar didn't dwell on topics that were impossible to deduce without more information.
After thinking to here, Caesar stopped contemplating such troublesome matters and walked towards the referee. He figured there would be a new set of rules, alongside a new format when the clan heads joined the midst.
Seeing Caesar's approaching figure, the referee straightened his back and had a wary expression on his face. He couldn't help but be scared of this man who always had a calm smile on his face, he carried the same expression when talking and fighting, which brought shivers to the poor referee.
"Where are the next matches taking place?" Caesar asked after reaching him.
After hearing his words, the referee breathed out a sigh of relief, "all of the future matches will take place in this general area," he replied while gesturing towards a few dozen meters around the podium Musashi sat.
Caesar nodded his head in understanding, "how many fights will be taking place at a single time?" Caesar asked. He wanted to get through this tournament as quickly as possible.
"Every remaining fighter will engage in battle. After that, the last few will fight for positions on the council," The referee replied with confidence. The remaining 15 fighters and 13 clan heads would then fight together, with the last fighter standing, gaining one of the two awards Musashi proposed.
Caesar was quite satisfied with the referee's answer, so he patted him on the shoulder and thanked him courteously before walking to the area he pointed out. Since the remaining matches were wrapping up, his next fight would undoubtfully be soon.
With this in mind, by the time Caesar arrived at the roughly 20 meters wide, squarish area that the referee had pointed out, the rest of the rounds ended. Musashi stood up from his chair and clapped loudly, bringing joy not only to the winners, but also the losers.
"For those that have won, and even those that lost, please hold your head up high… even if you had lost in the first round, the fact that you came to this tournament in the first place, already shows you are a brave warrior. I want to thank all of you for attending personally, and without further ado, I must announce that we are finally entering into the final rounds. You will now see our very own clan heads fight!" Musashi roared in a very charismatic manner, gathering the attention of the crowds and exciting them at the same time.
With Musashi's roar, all 13 clan heads took a step forward and presented themselves, causing the spectators and fighters alike, to cheer loudly. Everyone had a personal favorite that they wanted to win, even with Caesar's arrival, most fox-kin still, unfortunately, wanted their own kin to win.
Once the cheers died down with a wave of Musashi's hand, he started presenting each clan head, as if he were directing a show.
He started with gesturing towards Faust, and announced each and every clan head after, in a grand manner… exciting the crowds even further.
"Faust, the head of judgment and law."
"Khan, the head of protection."
"Leo, the head of hunting and food."
"Riku, the head of the cavalry."
"Kaito, the head of shield bearers."
"Touma, the head of spear-wielders."
"Haruto, the head of reconnaissance and information."
"Azir, the head of rations and welfare."
….
With every name called out, the citizens got more and more excited, until finally, every clan head was showcased, and the matchups decided. Fortunately, Caesar was put up against a relatively familiar figure.
Inside the middle-most ring, Caesar stood on the northern side, while facing him, was a man with long green hair and a handsome face… this was naturally Azir, who always picked a fight with Caesar.
"What are the chances?" Caesar asked Azir slyly while taking his scythe out of his storage ring, to which Azir responded by deeply creasing his bows.
"After three more fights, I'm going to finally rid this place of scum like you… I'm glad you're the first of the three," Caesar whispered while licking his lips, just audible enough for Azir to vaguely hear the contents of his whisper.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"Heh, you think my people will follow you? You're just an outsider, nothing more. Even if you're backed by Musashi and his daughter, the only thing waiting for you after this tournament is death," Azir replied vehemently, the pure hatred in his voice discernible to even the referee.
His words, although hateful, only brought a smile to Caesar's face. Caesar didn't know whether or not Azir was a spy, nor did he care. The only certain thing was that Azir was blocking Caesar's path. Thus, he would deal with him accordingly.
The long, black scythe dangerously spun in Caesar's hands, as if he were rotating an object that only weighed a couple of pounds — although unpractical amid battle, twirling the large scythe showcased a few things such as control, mastery, confidence, and strength. To prove this fact, he could see the frown on Azir's face deepen at his actions.
Seeing that Caesar did not respond to his comment, and instead, twirled his scythe around. Azir clicked his tongue in displeasure while taking out a western-esque sword. It was relatively large in length. However, it was slender and graceful, perfect for dueling. A red gem was embedded into the cross guard, making the weapon appear even more grand and expensive.
The sword that gleamed under the sunlight garnered the eye of many. Even Musashi couldn't help but take another gander at the sword. Albeit, Musashi's interest was vastly different in comparison to the other spectators. Musashi was more curious as to where Azir acquired such a weapon, not how marvelous it was.
This interest, however, only lasted a few moments before Musashi focused on Caesar's scythe, which was currently oozing out a cold aura. Though it didn't look as fancy as the sword Azir wielded, it was clearly more fit for war and battle. The sharp presence surrounding it proved that fact.
Musashi's train of thought was soon interrupted by the referee raising his hand, signifying that the battle was going to take place promptly. The bystanders, Musashi, and even Renee held their breaths in anticipation. This was, after all, the first match where a clan head had a good chance of losing.
"BEGIN!" The referee's deafening roar entered into the ears of those nearby, gathering their undivided attention.
Caesar immediately inserted some of his mana into his weapon; he then leisurely walked towards Azir. The resolution, calm, and grace in his steps were apparent to all of those watching. Even Azir couldn't help but gulp audibly at the sight of Caesar's approaching figure.
"You're nothing but an o
utsider, a mere step on the stairs, don't get too cocky!" Azir shouted angrily, and an orange flame coiled around his blade, the red gem embedded into his cross guard, glowing ever so faintly.
The wave of heat could be felt even a few meters away. However, Caesar was unaffected… in fact, small ice crystals formed in his wake. It was clear that the flame was not hot enough to pose a threat to Caesar.
Noticing that his flame was not enough, the gem in Azir's sword glowed even bright and brighter, resulting in the fire becoming darker. The heat was becoming more intense and dangerous, even melting the ground beneath him. His hair and clothes, somehow unblemished, seemingly not affected by the fierce flame.
Even with all of this, not a single ripple in Caesar's expression could be spotted. His confident strides never even stopped, until finally, he was only a few feet away from Azir.
CEO in a Fantasy World 4 Page 10
