Chapter 87: A Thumb's Worth

Leaving the registration hall, Max and the party headed toward their assigned rooms for participants. Because the rooms were separated for males and females, the party split up, with Max joining the tall guy's group.

Since the rule dictated that once registration was completed, there could be no changes, the tall guy could do nothing except reprimand Max for five minutes straight before asking him to withdraw from participating in the tournament. Naturally, Max did not agree; he would just see what kind of opponents he would face, and if they were too much for him, he would definitely withdraw from fighting. Since the party was also participating in group fights, they had the capacity to win the rewards. Still, what they needed to achieve had to be confirmed, though he had some idea regarding that.

The participants' room was located inside the colosseum and it was medium-sized, with no beds, kitchen, or any normal room possessions. It was simply a plain room with an attached toilet. Somehow, he could guess that this treatment was only for the people from Kempen. This thought made Max very angry, though this anger wasn't alien, it was simply his frustration. At least they should have put a proper table to sit at, but the room contained an elevated platform near the wall instead. It was a pathetic reception for the people of Kempen, especially from the Blaver people who considered themselves greater than others.

Max sat on one of the elevated seats. Currently, he did not know the procedure for how the roster was designed.

"Marlak, what do you think? Should I withdraw before even trying?" Max whispered.

The four guys who came with the tall guy sat on the opposite side of the elevated seat. As for the tall guy, he had gone outside; Max did not know where he had gone. Observing their expressions, Max sensed that this guy named Yorick did not mingle with anyone. Such a situation made things easy. If they were to speak to him, things would become difficult for him to answer.

"I don't think you have a chance to win, whatever is waiting for you. However, with that unique attack of yours, you will survive at least some weak participants," Marlak said.

"Yeah, that was also my only hope; otherwise, with my current level, I wouldn't go very far," Max said.

His only option against strong people was to use [Basic Healing Magic Reversal] to quickly subdue them. However, his current attack would kill them instantly. He had yet to know what the rules of the fights were. Even if it was a deadly fight where killing was allowed, he wouldn't want to kill anyone. Therefore, he had to use the technique meticulously, just to wound them and not drain every bit of life force out of them.

Max suddenly stood up and walked into the bathroom. Seeing Max moving, the four guys looked at him with expressions of disgust.

Max did not know when his time for battle would come. Before that, he needed to practice his Reversal technique. So far, he usually used all his life force to attack an enemy with the intent of killing them. Now, however, things had changed; he might need to perfect his technique just to use it to subdue everyone.

After locking the bathroom door, Max sat on the toilet seat and took a few breaths. The last attack on the Hall 2 monster was the strongest so far, though it hadn't killed it. Still, it was his strongest one, right below his final attack on the snake. Now, how could he measure the output to wound the opponent rather than kill them?

"Maybe a small, baby-fist-sized attack would be enough!" Max muttered.

"That would definitely kill an person," Marlak said, coming out of invisibility.

"Do you think so?" Max asked.

"Yes, make it even smaller, maybe the size of a baby's eyeball, which would be enough for big guys, and half of that for relatively small guys in strength," Marlak suggested.

"Do you think such a small attack would be effective?" Max asked, doubtful of Marlak's suggested attack size.

"Trust me, if you use anything more than that and the attack were to land on the opponent's chest or somewhere fatal, it would be a done case," Marlak warned, explaining the consequences of using bigger attacks.

"Well, obviously I wouldn't attack near the chest or head. That would be a deadly attack even for a small one. It should be on the legs or shoulders, so it would incapacitate the opponent in battle," Max said, devising the attack plan. His main goal should be to render the opponent incapable of fighting back without accidentally taking their life.

With that plan in mind, Max started to practice how much life force he should draw. Dark green energy gathered on his single palm with a light green sparkle. After drawing some life force and gathering the energy to the size of a human fist, he quickly dispersed it. This control issue stemmed from the time the life force was drawn from his body. Currently, he had no control over where the life force was drawn from; it just flowed without any control. This was definitely the wrong way to do it.

He should learn to draw life force from a particular part of his body, like his hands, legs, or abdomen. In that case, he would have more control over the attack size, as well as avoid draining his whole life force and leaving himself vulnerable. Max tried a few times, but it was very difficult to target a particular part of the body. Hence, instead of wasting time, he tried to practice more with the size of the attack for now.

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Max practiced for a while until his life force was half-drained. Following that, he quickly chugged a bottle of a Stamina Recovery Potion and an All-Nutrition Potion. For now, he could manage with the practice he had done. However, he would have to continue this practice until he instinctively created the size of the attack he wanted, as well as learned to draw the life force from a targeted spot rather than his overall body.

While Max was recovering in the bathroom, he suddenly heard a knock, though no call came. Having been in the bathroom for about fifteen minutes, he figured the other guys must want to use it.

Standing up with half-recovered life force, Max opened the door. Behind the door stood the tall guy. Seeing Max come out of the bathroom, he stared at him.

"You should have thought about it before you chose to register in the Solo Division Zero-Leveled. Now hiding in the bathroom, afraid of a battle? Do you want to withdraw from the tournament?" the tall guy asked.

"No," Max said after hearing how the tall guy had misunderstood everything.

"Here, your schedule." The tall guy gave a long stare before handing over the paper sheet.

"You will have two battles today itself, one of which will happen in an hour's time. The first battle will be very hard. I want you to think this through and decide whether you want to participate or not," the tall guy said.

Max took the paper, which resembled a printed document of details. It was a pamphlet outlining the tournament. The tournament was named the [Granada Battles], boasting a 124-year history, and it was being held at the [Vanity Colosseum].

Printed below were his name and his opponents' names. Today, he had to face two opponents: one called Darlington, whom he would face at 1:30, and Rawdon, whom he would face in the evening. Only names were printed, with nothing about their classes or battle specializations. However, thinking back, they had never even asked what type of warrior he was during registration. It seemed this whole Solo Division Zero-Leveled was a mess, randomly printing names without any real thought.

Furthermore, the pamphlet did not state what the prize of the tournament was. Well, once he finished today's battles, he would roam around outside and find out everything about the tournament without making any issues, of course.

"Well, I have enough time to recover before my first battle," Max muttered as he went back to his previous spot and sat down.

---

When the time came for his first battle, Max had nearly fully recovered. His battle location, printed on the pamphlet as [Practice Arena 22], was situated outside the main colosseum. Therefore, he left five minutes before the actual battle time, just in case he needed extra time to locate the arena.

Exiting the room, he walked outside the colosseum structure. Surprisingly, the navigation of the colosseum was very clear, distinctly showing where he was and the exact location he needed to reach. This made things a little easier for him, allowing him to quickly find Arena 22, located outside the main structure.

It was a small arena with minimal seats in the stands for spectators to watch, resembling an area where qualifications were held. He quickly found the person managing the battle and handed over the pamphlet.

The man gave Max a look that instantly told him the manager already knew he was from a different country. He needed to find out how these people were identifying him as coming from another country. Punching a seal, the man signaled Max to enter the arena, as it was the appointed time for his battle.

Scattered spectators sat around the arena stands, showing little interest in the stage as they busied themselves with their own affairs.

Max stepped onto the elevated stage, standing silently in one corner since his opponent had yet to arrive. Meanwhile, the arena manager remained in his position, likewise waiting for the other participant.

Exactly at the scheduled time of the battle, a guy hurriedly rushed toward the arena manager, presented his pamphlet to be stamped, and entered the stage with great haste, looking as though he was holding back his pee.

"What are you waiting for?" the man asked, fixing his gaze on Max. Max, who had been waiting for the arena manager to signal the start of the battle, was taken aback by the question. The guy appeared to be in his thirties with a normal posture; he was not heavily built, was of average height, and had long hair. A long sword was strapped to his hip, revealing him to be a swordsman.

Hearing the guy, Max slightly shifted his body posture and assumed a different fighting stance, as his previous one seemed too plain. However, even though the guy spoke in a provocative manner, Max chose not to make the first move.

"You serious?" the guy asked with a look of surprise.

"What are you talking about?" Max asked after seeing the guy acting and speaking in a weird way.

"You want to fight with me?" the guy asked.

"Of course I want to fight you. Why else would I be here if not for a fight?" Max asked in confusion, wondering if he had come to a different arena instead of the one where the match was happening.

"Hahaha, what a joke. You? A guy from Kempen wants to fight a Roden?" the guy asked in a mocking tone.

"Roden? What's that?" Max asked, his confusion growing.

"It's my country, you fool! Kneel before me and exit the stage before I kill you," the guy said furiously.

Hearing this, Max looked at the arena manager, who was supposed to mediate the battle, but the manager had already turned his attention back to his documents.

"Are you dumb or what? Why would I kneel and exit the stage? Are you afraid of fighting me?" Max asked.

"What did you say?" Drawing his sword, the guy walked toward Max.

Standing in a relaxed pose, Max brought out his own sword, unsheathing it to ready himself for battle. Meanwhile, the spectators intently watched the stage with sudden interest.

Walking toward Max, the man suddenly accelerated and reached Max's position in an instant, shocking Max, who had yet to make a move. It was too fast; Max was still holding the sword in front of him. With a shocked expression, he watched as a sword came down toward his head. Max had no time to block the attack.

Caught in a difficult situation where he could not escape death if the attack lands, Max let go of his sword, crouched his body down, and moved his right hand toward the guy's abdomen as green energy began to gather in the center of his palm.

Max did not wait for the Reversal attack to gather to his practiced size; if he waited that long, his head would be split in two, so he simply attacked the man with whatever amount of energy had gathered during the movement.

Max's palm touched the man's belly, and the Reversal attack attached to him, its size as small as a thumb. Following that, a sudden howling cry echoed across [Practice Arena 22] as the young man dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach as he writhed.