The trio dug out their weapons from the sandy pits surrounding the pillar. They were already bearing down on Grey moments later, two of them wielding swords while the mohawk man was actually wielding a whip.
Unsurprisingly, the mohawk man was the first to enter range, his whip snapping with a crackle that sent a sonic boom right at Grey’s head.
It was something they were sure should probably end the battle, but their discipline was top notch. Even with their thoughts being so, Megan and the second man had already pincered Grey in from the left and right, raising their weapons ready to fill in what gaps were left.
Grey couldn’t move very far from his stump in the first place, he hadn’t been able to untie it.
There was no dodging.
Except there was.
The sound blast whizzed right over Grey’s nose. He watched it pass by, his feet pressed against the stump and the chains pulled taut against his wrists.
Megan didn’t hesitate, her sword swinging down on him from above.
What she didn’t notice was the tail that suddenly whipped out and caught her ankle, sending her flying off her feet in a sideways rotating pinwheel. The timing of Grey’s strike was too perfect, aiming for a gap between her steps solidly hitting the earth.
Grey didn’t even watch what happened to her. He was already back on his feet, facing off against the second man whose blade was only lagging behind by the slightest bit.
He was clearly not the speed type Megan was, but he was far stronger. His sword came with a whizzing air that made Grey’s skin feel like it was being pressed with a knife long before it even landed.
That didn’t stop Grey from side stepping it, though, presenting his chains for the man to cut.
BANG. Chi.
The man failed to cut all the way through. In fact, he only nicked the chains.
’Sturdy fuckers.’
But it didn’t matter. Not when the pain reverberated right back into his wrists, nearly snapping them.
Grey kicked at the side of the man’s knee. There was a pulse of energy that formed, likely in some attempt to form a defense. Unfortunately, that didn’t help either.
It saved the man’s leg from shattering, but it didn’t stop it from bowing inward.
Grey’s hip twisted, his palms pressing together as he erupted with an elbow across the man’s jaw that left him spinning in place on the slippery sand.
He collapsed to the ground skull first, his legs twitching as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
"FREDRICK!"
The mohawk man was already gearing up another attack. He had been too worried about hitting his companions earlier, but now that two of them were down, one of them potentially being dead, he erupted with everything he had.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Craters of compressed sound formed in the skies, jetting forward like spiralling ammunition whipping through the air.
"Hey, hey, we abolished slavery a long time ago. What the fuck is this?"
Grey kicked at Fredrick’s sword, sending it into the air.
Helion Resonance activated and it was like the blade was being compressed in a rotating microwave. It instantly started glowing blood red.
Grey leapt into the air as far as he could. It wasn’t all that far at all, but when he flipped his feet over his head, the distance he gained was much greater.
As though he had become prime Ronaldo on the pitch, his leg began as light as a feather and then suddenly as heavy as a mountain in a booming bicycle kick.
BOOM.
The blade appeared in front of the mohawk man in an instant, the fluctuating magnetic field ripping his sound waves to pieces just passing by.
His life flashed before his eyes and he chuckled. They had done everything so right and it wasn’t enough.
His vision went black.
Grey landed on his fists and then flipped back up to his feet. He was still waiting for Megan’s follow up attack, but when he saw her prone on the ground, his lip twitched.
She had put everything into her attack back then, only to be suddenly swept off her feet in the worst way.
By the time she noticed, she was already pinwheeling. Her head and neck hit the ground first. She was completely out cold.
"Well, I guess that’s done."
The roar of the crowd faded back into Grey’s psyche. He had completely tuned them out to focus, but now he was sure they were even louder than the first time.
He didn’t know why, though. These people were strong comparatively speaking. He actually thought they were a better team than Stella’s—though, to be fair to Stella, these three had come ready for battle while he had caught them off guard twice.
Not that Grey felt bad after Stella had almost killed him via ambush.
Either way, these people weren’t strong enough to warrant this sort of fanfare.
But then the crowd noise came to an abrupt stop.
Grey’s eyes narrowed and he looked back and up to find that the man sitting in the throne had raised his hand.
Then, he slowly rose to his feet, walking forward as his white lion beast skin glided along the ground, somehow not receiving the slightest blemish.
"What is your name, young hero?"
Grey blinked. It didn’t feel like the man was straining very hard, but the voice felt like it was everywhere at once. How strong was this man, exactly?
"Grey."
"Then Grey, I will give you two options. The first option is to take up a challenge against my champion. Since you like to make a mockery of our proceedings so much, then you’ll take on this challenge with your hands bound as such."
The king stopped speaking, letting the words linger. A silence hung in the air for a very long while.
Grey just stood there, watching the man in silence.
"Then there is the second option. You die. Which will it be?"
Grey grinned. "And what do I get when I beat your pathetic champion into the ground? Another fragile ego of a speech from a fake king?"