Chapter 4 – End
Dante Voss narrowed his eyes at the fallen Slave.
Although his attributes now surpassed theirs, it still wasn't enough to wipe them out quickly.
With that in mind, Dante Voss reopened the system and dumped every slaughter point he'd just earned into [Strength] and [Speed].
The injection of 20 attribute points flooded him with raw power; he felt he could drop an ox with one punch.
Ignoring the sensation, and seeing no glow from the two corpses, he charged toward the remaining Slaves.
With 22 points in both [Strength] and [Speed], he could now steamroll the others.
He reached another cluster of Slaves and slashed at them without pause.
His ferocity had drawn their attention; they broke off their own fight and rushed him together.
Facing three at once, Dante Voss turned serious.
A sword swing knocked one back; a kick sent another sprawling; he bore straight into the third.
Thanks to his Speed, the third couldn't react before Dante Voss's blade sank into his chest.
[Killed a common human. slaughter points +10]
Ignoring the prompt, Dante Voss spun and sprinted at the other two.
Seeing him drop one so fast, the pair tried to flee, but under 22 points of [Speed] they barely made it a few steps.
[Killed a common human. slaughter points +10]
[Killed a common human. slaughter points +10]
Two more notifications flashed; Dante Voss's eyes gleamed as he funneled every new point into [Speed].
His Strength was already sufficient; what he needed now was the velocity to hunt down the dying.
A warm current surged through his limbs, and suddenly every part of him felt faster.
In an instant, his [Speed] attribute jumped to 52.
"Eh?"
About to leave, he noticed a corpse glowing white and stopped in his tracks.
As the light condensed into a sphere, Dante Voss reached out and tapped it.
[Acquired white-grade item: delicious bento box ×1]
"Food?"
He felt disappointed—white-tier loot was far inferior to red.
Still, better than nothing.
Without further thought he plunged back into the crowd, harvesting the nearly dead.
The top priority was to finish them off.
After continuous investments, Dante Voss's power now eclipsed the Slaves; no one could threaten him anymore.
Yet he deliberately kept a low profile.
After all, this was the Divine Trial Ground—territory of the Celestial Dragons.
If he drew their interest and got taken away, it would be disastrous.
He knew he was nowhere near strong enough to tangle with the World Government.
So he relied purely on Speed to finish off the dying, then feigned retreat whenever someone engaged him.
As time trickled by, only a dozen combatants remained on the field.
All were drenched in sweat, utterly spent.
In a free-for-all of a hundred, surviving this long was already remarkable.
Dante Voss looked the same—soaked, muscles trembling.
He had raised only [Strength] and [Speed]; the stamina stat, [Physique], remained untouched.
Running 52 points of Speed on a mere 6 Physique pushed his endurance to the limit.
By now his slaughter points had reached 610.
Opening the system, he fed 30 of them into [Physique].
He'd held off to keep up a weak façade, but further delay would be dangerous.
A warm current flooded his frame, instantly re-energizing his parched body.
Though still dripping sweat, his combat power was fully restored.
Yet while his body recovered, his mind felt drained.
Frowning, Dante Voss dropped another 30 points into [Spirit].
His [Spirit] instantly climbed to 39.
A soothing flow filled his skull, fatigue receding and the psychological toll of mass slaughter easing.
The clarity surprised him.
He realized now that dumping points into a single attribute was wasteful.
If everything went into [Speed], endurance would fail before long.
All four dimensions were indispensable.
With that insight, Dante Voss pretended to be feeble again and stalked toward another Slave.
The target was equally exhausted but had no choice but to meet his charge.
After several staged exchanges Dante Voss cut him down and moved on.
At last only one opponent remained.
The man held a sword and seemed fairly skilled.
Instead of waiting, he rushed Dante Voss first.
His swordplay was superior and precise, every strike aiming for a fatal spot.
Dante Voss evaded every blow thanks to his overwhelming attributes.
Seeing the man tire, Dante Voss slashed at his neck, hoping to end the match in one stroke.
But he was foiled.
The once-sharp blade lodged in the man's throat, failing to finish him.
Agony drove the man into a frenzy; eyes bloodshot, he hacked at Dante Voss.
Caught off guard, Dante Voss blocked with his arm and, using brute force, sawed through the neck to end the fight.
He lifted the weapon and examined it, finding the reason for the failure.
The sword had dulled during the carnage; its edge was chipped and useless.
Dante Voss tossed it aside and surveyed the field.
No one else stood breathing; nearly a hundred corpses lay silent around him.
Such is the gods' game—casual slaughter by the hundreds.
Most of the dead had fallen to him; even with his raised [Spirit], the bloodshed still weighed on him.
"Today you are my nourishment; one day I shall avenge you."
Dante Voss murmured, turning to walk back.
"He actually won?"
Vic was surprised, paying no mind to Dante Voss leaving alone.
His gaze flickered with curiosity—if even he found this unexpected, might the gods above feel the same?
The thought thrilled Vic.
If the gods were pleased, could he finally rise within the World Government instead of running this little arena?