The crowd broke into cheers the moment we entered the arena.
Step.
With every step, my bare feet sank into the sand, grains spilling between my toes. The sand was cold against my skin, even colder than the stone floor of the corridor, but the feeling was familiar.
Step.
Slowly, I walked toward the weapon rack. It didn't take long for me to find my sword. My fingers wrapped around the familiar leather grip, and I pulled it out. Resting it casually on my shoulder, I began walking toward the center of the arena.
While moving, I glanced around at my group members.
Ines.
The girl with black hair held her spear firmly in both hands. The number 74 was written in white on her black shirt.
During our first fights, she had been overly serious, like a soldier marching to war. But by now she had loosened up a little. Her shoulders were less tense, and her expression calmer.
Behind her walked two boys who looked almost identical.
Number 86 and 92.
According to Rash, they were actual siblings.
Mark and Lark.
Even their names sounded similar.
They were smiling as they carried their swords, as if we were about to begin a friendly duel instead of fighting for our lives.
Far behind them stood another boy near the weapon rack.
He was still hesitating, trying to decide which weapon to take.
Number 158.
Luka.
He was a frail-looking boy with a short and skinny physique. Yet, in complete contrast to his appearance, he chose two battle axes as his weapons.
With slow steps, he followed us toward the center, his eyes nervously scanning the arena. Even after all the fights, his fear had not left him.
Turning my head to the right, I looked at the last member of our group.
Short black hair, cut into a buzzcut that had already begun to grow out. And a dark skin tone that stood out clearly among the other teens.
Rash.
The person I was most familiar with. Someone I could even call a friend.
As if sensing my gaze, he turned toward me.
A light smile appeared on his face and, as usual, he immediately began talking.
"Wow, do you see the crowd? What do you think, how many of them came today just to see me?"
"At least half, right?"
And once again, only nonsense came out of his mouth.
I slowly shook my head and sighed.
"I don't think even one of them came for you."
What kind of person asked something like that right before a fight?
But just as if the world itself wanted to contradict me—
"Let's go 125! Kill them all!"
A shout broke through the roaring crowd.
Somehow, the voice cut through all the cheering so that we could hear it clearly.
Rash immediately turned toward me.
His smile grew even wider.
"Heard that?"
"That was my number one fan."
I sighed again, not even bothering to argue.
Step.
We stopped as we reached the center of the arena.
Rash curiously looked up at the crowd and even waved at them, which only made their cheering grow louder. He turned toward me again, clearly about to say something ridiculous, but I ignored him.
Instead, I lifted my gaze toward the podium.
John stood there.
His hands rested calmly on the stone podium as he waited for us to reach the center. A red suit clung to his body, and the white mask covering his face looked as pristine as ever.
For a moment, it felt as if his gaze lingered on me longer than usual.
But I dismissed the thought as imagination.
Step.
The other teens reached the center one after another and stopped beside us. Now that we were all gathered, John's gaze left us and moved toward the crowd.
His arms spread wide, and the smile painted on his mask curved into a perfect arc.
Then he began.
"My dear guests."
The moment he spoke, the entire crowd fell silent.
As if only he was allowed to speak now.
The speech was the same as always. Words meant to sound noble while laced with poison. It didn't take long for him to finish.
One arm rose high into the air.
Then his calm voice followed.
"Blood."
THUD.
The metal gate opened as his hand dropped.
"NO MERCY!"
Followed by the crowd's chant.
Their voices echoed through the arena for several seconds before fading away. Soon, only the sound of metal scraping against stone remained.
The gate slowly opened.
Thud.
The gates locked into position, revealing the dark corridor behind them.
Then silence.
No one spoke.
Everyone's gaze was fixed on the corridor, holding their breath and waiting for the beast to appear.
My eyes looked straight ahead.
'What will it be today?'
My grip tightened around my sword as I raised it into position.
The other teens moved as well. Sand shifted beneath their feet as they went into position.
My mind raced without taking my eyes off the dark corridor.
Only one gate had opened.
Whatever came out of there would be something big.
Maybe only one beast.
That would be the first time...
The first time we fought, only one.
"It must be strong."
The one who spoke wasn't me, but Rash, who stood beside me. And almost as if summoned by his words—
Swoosh.
Something appeared.
Not a beast.
It was a breeze, accompanied by a ripple of mana.
As if a window had opened somewhere deep inside the corridor. A current of wind flowed outward and brushed against my skin.
Cold.
The air suddenly felt colder.
My breath came out as smoke.
Then—
Light.
Two glowing orbs appeared in the darkness.
Not to illuminate.
Simply to exist.
A pale blue, just like ice.
They were small.
Thump.
Then came the sound.
Thump.
With each step, the blue orbs grew larger.
Thump.
Gulp.
Behind me, I heard someone swallow.
Then, slowly—
A silhouette appeared.
Thump.
The first thing I saw was white.
Thump.
My first thought was gorilla.
Thump.
The last step brought the creature fully into view, revealing it.
And all I could do was tighten my grip on my sword.
An ape-like beast stood before us.
It towered over any man I had ever seen. At least three meters tall. Snow-white fur covered its tall body, though it could not hide the thick muscles beneath. With every slow breath it took, frost clinging to its fur broke loose and fell to the ground.
It stood upright and gazed down at us.
From its wide shoulders hung long arms that nearly touched the ground. The palm of its hand was large enough to cover my entire head. In contrast to its towering body, its legs were shorter but packed with dense muscle, ending in enormous feet.
Its head could only be described as ape-like. But unlike its white fur, its skin was pale blue. Almost white, but not quite there. The beast's glowing blue eyes turned away from us and toward the crowd. Another breath escaped its mouth and brought another wave of mana, accompanied by a cold wind.
From behind me, I heard someone whisper.
"Yeti."
Yeah.
That was the first time I could have guessed the name of the beast.
It looked exactly like the stories told by people on Earth.
Then, as if hearing the whisper—
The beast snapped its head back toward us.
And what it did next sent a chill down my spine.
It smiled.
Not a real smile.
More like its mouth stretching into a strange curve. But the meaning was clear.
Its lips parted slightly with the smile, showing its sharp white teeth. Each one of them was as long as my finger.
Then, slowly—
THMP.
The Yeti moved.
THMP.
The motion was so slow that none of us reacted. We simply watched it approach.
THMP.
Each step left an imprint in the sand.
THMP.
The Yeti stopped only a few meters away from us.
It did not roar.
It simply stood there.
Looming over us and staring down.