“Why aren’t you attacking?!”

Varacius’s voice rang out, sharp with frustration, cutting through the electric tension in the coliseum. His crimson eyes bore into Alex, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

Three minutes had passed since the referee had signaled the start of the match.

Three minutes.

And Alex hadn’t moved. Not once. He had not even shifted his stance.

Varacius hadn’t moved, as he wanted to show Alex some courtesy.

Since Varacius had seen Alex fight before and had some idea of his strength, he gave Alex a chance by letting him attack first.

But Alex didn’t use that chance.

‘Is he looking down on me?!’ Such a thought appeared in Varacius’s head.

Looking at Alex standing lazily, it was clear that he wasn’t expecting anything from this match, and that boiled Varacius’s blood.

The audience, just like Varacius, was confused.

The initial excitement had dulled into murmurs of uncertainty, their collective energy teetering between anticipation and irritation.

“What’s going on? Why hasn’t he moved yet?”

“Is Alex uncertain of his victory? Is he going to lose the title of ‘Maneater’?”

“Damn it, I was looking forward to this match! Is he stalling on purpose?!”

“Wait, wait, what if… what if he’s planning something huge?”

“He’s Alex Drakathor. Everything he does has a reason. Just watch.”

Varacius gritted his teeth as those words echoed in his head; most of the comments seemed in Alex’s favor, and his fingers flexed at his sides.

His patience was already running thin, but in just a while, it snapped.

“This isn’t a joke, Drakathor,” he growled. “I offered you the first move, but if you’re too much of a coward to take it, then—”

“I’m waiting.”

Alex’s calm voice cut Varacius off. His coolness made it seem like he had all the time in the world.

Varacius, on the other hand, frowned. “Waiting for what?”

Looking at that frown, Alex’s lips curled into a smirk, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “For you to complete the bet’s conditions, of course.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Varacius’s body stiffened, his mind momentarily blank before reality slammed into him like a freight train.

The bet.

The loser was supposed to bark four times in the center of the arena. And now, Alex was standing there, not making a move, because he expected Varacius to do just that.

Due to the silence, even the crowd caught on almost instantly.

“Wait, is that why he’s not attacking?!”

“What kind of bet was it?”

“Must be something Varacius can’t do. His expression speaks more than words.”

“So, is Varacius, the guy known for keeping his word, going to go back on it?”

“Damn, that would be like going against his nature.”

“The situation is tricky for Varacius. If he does it, his reputation is done for. But if he doesn’t… the result would still be the same.”

“Whatever man. I just want to see them fight. I want to see blood!”

As more and more comments pilled up, their words unimaginably piercing Varacius, he felt the blood rush to his face, his muscles tensing as his fury spiked to dangerous levels.

His pride—his very dignity—was being toyed with. It was all because of a single guy.

He forced a breath through his nose, his nails biting into his palms. “You can’t be serious.”

“Perfectly,” Alex replied smoothly, rocking slightly on his heels. “A bet’s a bet, Varacius. You agreed to it. And now, I’m just waiting for you to honor your word.”

Varacius remained silent for a while, thinking of a way out of this situation, but as the audience’s words kept flowing into his ears, he finally couldn’t take it. He clenched his jaw and growled. “That bet was unfair from the start!”

Alex raised a brow, looking genuinely interested. “Oh?”

“You knew how strong Gurrak was. I didn’t.” Varacius’s voice was rigid, controlled only by sheer force of will. “You tricked me into accepting a bet I had no way of winning.”

Alex tilted his head as if considering the words. Then, after a brief pause, he let out a soft chuckle. “And?”

Varacius stiffened.

Alex’s smirk widened. “Are you saying you regret it? That you weren’t smart enough to think why I would make a bet if I thought I would lose? I remember you saying that he was weak as if you could see how strong he was.”

The words cut deep.

Varacius knew what Alex was doing—poking at his pride, his sense of strength, and worst of all, his credibility as a warrior.

But still… even though he knew it was what Alex wanted, he couldn’t stop his rising blood pressure—especially when he heard the crowd stirred again, whispers turning into murmurs, then into open laughter.

“He’s actually making excuses…”

“I didn’t think Varacius would be the type to complain after losing.”

“This is painful to watch. He literally is stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

Those comments made Varacius’s fury hit a boiling point. His entire body tensed, the blood in his veins running hot.

His pride screamed at him to shut Alex up and make him eat those words.

Because in the end, it didn’t matter what had been said before.

The strongest dictated what the loser should do. And right now, Alex was standing there, looking down on him like he was nothing more than an amusing sideshow.

“I’ll make you regret those words,” Varacius snarled, his voice laced with barely restrained rage.

He moved.

Fast.

The ground beneath his feet cracked as he launched forward, closing the distance instantly, his fist hurtling toward Alex’s smug face.

A fist that never connected.

Because the moment Varacius got close, Alex’s smirk deepened.

And then—

With a blur of motion, Alex had already moved.

Woosh!

Varacius’s fist hit the air, causing a wave to be sent toward the walls of the arena.

“Huff!” His nostrils flared as he clenched his fists again. The cracking of his finger bones echoed through the colosseum, which had gone silent the moment he moved.

Everyone could feel it—his strength.

Just a punch from Varacius was enough to almost break the sound barrier, and that was when he wasn’t even using his full power.

Such a display, of course, made the audience excited, murmurs ringing out.

“Damn… I knew he was strong, but isn’t he too strong?”

“Will Alex be able to defeat him like Leon?”

“I believe he can. We still don’t know what he is capable of.”

“Yeah. It’s just like the protagonists of manhwas and novels! Tiger pretending to be a pig.”

“For real! We might witness a faceslapping moment!”

Not all of the audience could follow Varacius’s movements, but they could see the attack’s aftermath and wanted to see more.

“In the end, you decided not to stand by your words, huh?”

It was then that Varacius heard a voice from beside him, and his instincts flared.

As soon as he turned to the side, he saw a palm—more like a slap from Alex—moving toward him.

He could see it.

The way it moved and where it was headed.

Its trajectory was straight, and Varacius felt it was easy to avoid, but his instincts told him it was impossible to dodge it.

That palm seemed like a wall—a wall so big that even if he ran with all of his might, he wouldn’t be able to escape getting crushed by it.

With no other choice left, Varacius decided to get serious.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep