The Titan's Throne

The Kid is Lucky

Meanwhile somewhere else...

"Kai, do you see the sparring match before us?"

"No young master."

"If not a sparring match, then what are we looking at?"

"A deathmatch...I think."

The moment Kai finished speaking, Bastian pounced.

His feet pushed off the ground, launching his relatively small body toward his foe. His left hand was reaching out, while his right hand was lingering on his back.

Tate stood there, like a large rock that could brave the force of a large wave of water. Tate's intention was simple, the moment

Bastian touched his sword, he would smash him onto the ground.

Tate, like most of the veterans in the arena, knew the hardness the gauntlets had, coupled with Bastian's lightning-fast reaction speed, Tate knew he would not be able to cut the boy.

But even if one could prevent himself from being cut by the blade, the force behind it could still damage him. Tate's instinct told him that he was at death's door, yet his logic told him that he had a fighting chance. The moment Bastian headed straight for the gloves, Tate knew that there was a dragon amongst snakes.

Even if the young warrior is faster than me, even if he is quite strong, there is no way he can damage me without a weapon!

Tate had seen Bastian's strength when he had smashed the blind disaster into the ground. The cracks spread all along the arena floor.

If I was to concentrate my strength into one blow, I could do the same! No, I could go further!

With this naïve thought, Tate tensed his muscles and got ready to smash Bastian into the ground.

Bastian could tell what the giant was thinking, but this did not change his thinking one bit.

The moment Bastian's hand gripped the sword with a roar; Tate put all his strength into his sword in an attempt to swing it down.

The sword started moving, but it was not in the direction Tate wanted, instead, the sword was being taken away from the giant's grasp. Bit by bit, Tate was losing his grip.

What? What is this?

Tate and the audience had expected a fast-paced collision, with Bastian relying on his fast pace to get the better of Tate. Yet the completely unexpected occurred.

Yes, Bastian had taken advantage of his speed. But not to dodge the large sabre and counter, instead, his intention was to grip the sword.

"Now you have nothing to protect yourself with."

Bastian's words brought Tate and the audience back to reality.

To Tate's horror, Bastian had completely stripped the giant of his sabre.

The giant wanted to jump back, but unfortunately for him, Bastian had already gripped him with his other hand. It was at this point that Tate realized the fact that had led to his death.

He is stronger than me.

Tate was taller than Bastian by quite a bit, so at that moment, he was looking down at the boy, yet he felt like he looking up at a god.

With an arm breaking yank, Bastian pulled the giant closer.

The giant attempted to use his free hand to strike while he was falling, hoping to use the weight of his fall to supplement his momentum.

Bastian used his other hand to catch the giant's hand. He had already tossed the sabre aside. Then, as he had just done, he yanked, further hastening the giant's fall.

The result was that the giant was forced into a kneeling position.

With a loud thud, his knees greeted the bloody floor. Then with a quick movement, Bastian attacked.

Yet he attacked with neither of his feet. Instead, he used his only other available option, his head.

Bastian's head met with Tate's skull. A cracking noise, like twigs being snapped, resounded throughout the arena.

The giant did not understand Bastian's motive. Bastian had opportunities to strike. He could have hit his eyes, his ears, twisted his neck, or even cut him with his sword. Yet Bastian chose such a brutish method of victory.

Blood started flowing from Tate's ears and nose. His death was only seconds away. Even though Bastian's work was done, he did not separate his head from the giant's body.

Instead, he let go of the already lifeless arms and gripped Tate's skull. Tate still had a bit of light in his eyes. So Bastian told him the last words he would ever hear. And quite the words they were.

"Tate the Smiter. You are the first man I have ever killed. I have no grudge against you nor do I despise you. But rest assured. If I truly do become worthy of my arrogant words, then your name shall never be forgotten as long as mine is remembered."

...

As soon as Bastian had finished his words, the light in Tate's eyes had dimmed. Bastian let go of the giant, allowing the body to fall lifelessly to the ground.

Bastian walked away from the corpse and looked at his bloody hands.

Nope. Don't feel anything.

Bastian had thought that perhaps after taking his first human life, he would feel something. But the opposite occurred. He felt nothing.

Meh, it's actually a good thing. This will make my life easier. Speaking of my life, why did the giant know I was strong?

Never mind that, he's already dead. I have bigger fish to fry.

Bastian looked at the unconscious white-haired boy. He truly pitied him and wanted to assist him. After a few moments, an opening suddenly appeared by the wall, with armoured guards walking out.

...

Bastian was told to carry the white-haired boy out of the arena as they were being led to their cells. Bastian was surprised to learn that he and the white-haired boy shared the same cell.

This makes my plans much easier.

The duo was locked into their cells and the guards walked away in haste. Bastian noticed that they were quite nervous. At first, he

thought it was because he was imposing, but after looking at his unconscious counterpart, he quickly realized what they were truly afraid of. The cells only had brick walls at the back, while the other three sides had bars, allowing Bastian to see the cells around him. To his surprise, all the cells nearby were completely empty.

Well, this is convenient. At least at this moment, I can concentrate on the matter at hand.

Like any scientist, Bastian worked best without distractions. He intended to help the white-haired boy not only out of kindness but because he felt this endeavour would help him understand Soul Force more.

At heart, Bastian was a scholar. To him, knowledge was of the utmost importance.

"Alright then, let's begin," said Bastian as he cracked his knuckles.

...

In a booth within the arena sat two people, one was an attractive woman with a Mohawk, who had an exposed arm covered in tattoos. The other was a middle-aged man dressed in simple grey robes. The man was actually quite dirty, to the point where he could easily be mistaken for a beggar.

"So Miss Owami, what do you think?" said the dirty man with a smug grin.

The attractive woman referred to as Owami merely pouted in response and said nothing. The dirty man shook his head and continued on, "The facts are there, there are no doubts that this is a Karmic King."

"What facts? All he did was beat up trash with a slightly less trashy body," said Owami unhappily.

The dirty man sighed and said, "Ok, let's recount the first startling facts: he achieved harmonization even though he had a supreme affinity for both the fire and water elements, he accidentally achieved a Bloodline Awakening without the use of any tools or prior instruction. His Bloodline Awakening was of the highest class possible. His soul is immune to any form of spiritual attacks, including mine. He found an Inkume and befriended her.

He was personally selected by my Master to be a Mark Bearer.

He went from 2 Claws to 5 Claws within the span of a few months...the list goes on.

Now let's recount what happened after we intervened and put him in a dire situation.

He managed to wake up just in time for the match, even though the medicine was still in effect.

He immediately found a pair of enchanted gauntlets that magnificently fit his attributes that even you had missed.

He was placed in a match with someone who somehow knew of the gauntlets' true value, thus having to fight only two people.

He was able to gain a Master before the match had even started while being unconscious.

Last but not least the Master who bought him just happened to be the owner of the gauntlets themselves, practically guaranteeing him ownership of them in the near future.

Not to mention who his Master is-"

Owami could not take anymore and interrupted, "Fine I get it! The kid is really lucky!"