CEO In A Fantasy World Chapter 127: Chapter 127: The Tournament

As they approached the very large square arena, estimated to be about 60 meters wide and 100 meters long. It was nearly the same size as a football field back on earth, however, this was just a rough estimate.

There were many marked squares on the training grounds, the 'barriers' were made up of either small planks of wood or string, Caesar a.s.sumed they were indicating where the battles would take place.

While still in the middle of his thoughts, both he and Ahri soon arrived at the training grounds. Their fancy clothes and striking features made them, of course, stand out more than normal, Ahri's beauty coupled with Caesar's breathtaking appearance caused many heads to turn.

With Ahri's high status, word started to spread and soon, almost everyone was looking over, including the clan heads. This, however, was in Caesar's expectations and his expression didn't change in the slightest, instead, he led Ahri to where her grandfather along with the clan heads awaited.

They were situated in the middle of the arena esque training grounds, they were sitting around an elevated and relatively large table. Caesar a.s.sumed the reason for this was so they could spectate whichever battle they wanted to.

He brought Ahri to the table and she sat at the second highest seat, to the right of Musas.h.i.+. Once she was seated, Caesar didn't bother making conversation with the rest and turned away to go find Soka and Falthor.

Caesar had ordered Soka and Falthor to head towards the furbolg clan last night, he was curious as to what transpired during that night. He repeatedly surveyed the surroundings using his superior senses until finally, after a few minutes of searching, he caught sight of both Falthor and Soka walking together.

He didn't hesitate to quicken his pace and approach the both of them. As he was walking, he inspected them closely and couldn't see any outward injuries. This did raise his suspicions, however, it was possible that the furbolg clan wasn't getting attacked.

Thinking to here, he soon arrived in front of both Soka and Falthor who stopped dead in their tracks once they caught sight of him. Relief visibly filled their eyes once he appeared and they bowed deeply.

"Sir, we tried meeting you last night, however, you were not present in the meeting room" Falthor opened up first whilst straightening his back.

Caesar nodded his head in response, "ah yes, I was busy training my body at the time…" he spoke truthfully and paused for a moment before continuing "did any problems arise at the furbolg clan?" he asked after a moment of hesitation.

Hearing his question, Soka hesitated for a moment before answering… "when we arrived, the battle was already over. Bodies belonging to both the trolls and furbolgs littered the ground, very few survivors remained" he replied with a somewhat downcast expression.

This information caused Caesar to crease his brows and click his tongue, "where are the remaining survivors?" he asked.

"Both me and Falthor secretly escorted them inside of the stronghold, they are currently residing next to the gnomes," Soka replied honestly.

Caesar stroked his chin and looked east, the rain clouds were still forming and looked denser than ever, even now, he could smell the moisture in the air. He suddenly turned towards Soka, "tell Rakan to bring those two traitors, and also, I want you to scout the near troll stronghold, we need to know when and how they will attack" he said before turning towards Falthor.

"As for you, I need you to destroy the compet.i.tion in the tournament, I need you to get a name for yourself and become respected," Caesar spoke briefly before turning around and heading towards the registration table.

"Yes sir!" they both shouted from behind Caesar and scrambled away to complete his orders.

Their words, however, did not enter into his ears as he was in the midst of deep contemplation, 'if they already know that we are recruiting smaller clans, the chances of them attacking soon would be logical. I need to prepare…' he thought inwardly and soon arrived in front of the registration table.

A young and cute looking maid with short brown hair was currently writing down numbers on a small squarish piece of paper. She handed a separate piece of paper to all warriors who wanted to partic.i.p.ate, each paper having a different number written on it.

The line was relatively small as both Caesar and Ahri arrived late, most of the warriors had already registered, and soon, it was his turn at the counter. The young maid, without even raising her eyes, handed Caesar a piece of paper that held the number 13 on it.

"Thank you for registering, next!" she called out and starting writing yet another number on the paper.
Caesar didn't dally for too long and walked away, he awaited the start of the tournament and was quite curious as to how it was organized. There were no microphones or speakers in this world, so organizing 500 or so people would be, in fact, difficult.

That, of course, only applied if you were alone, if you have many organizers a.s.sisting you, the task becomes much easier. Thus, Caesar stood alone for about another hour or so, until finally, Musas.h.i.+ stood up from his chair.

"Ahem" Musas.h.i.+ cleared his throat and presumably amplified the sound of his voice by some sort of magic.

"As there are no more warriors signing up, it is time to start the tournament… as you may have already heard from your respective clan head, there are two rewards at stake in this tournament. Not only will you gain fame and have the chance at becoming a clan head, but if you are to win, you will also be able to either challenge me for the position of clan head or take my granddaughter's hand in marriage, which would immediately make you the next heir" Musas.h.i.+ reminded all of the warriors present and relit a fire in their eyes.

"WHOAAAA!" a few fox-kin roared in excitement at his words, alas, after a few moments, Musas.h.i.+ raised his hand and silenced them.

"Do not forget the rules, you are not allowed to use fatal attacks, nor are you allowed to use an edged blade unless you are confident in not injuring the opposing party. Thirdly, you may not use this tournament to settle personal grievances, that is all" Musas.h.i.+ roared from his large podium and sat back down on his chair.

After a brief moment of silence, Faust stood up from his chair and cuffed his mouth, "numbers 401-500 report to the eastern side of the training grounds, 301-400 to the northern side, 201-300 to the southern side, 100-200 to western, and finally, 0-99 report to the middle of the training grounds.

Caesar once again glanced at his paper which possessed the number 13 and walked towards the middle of the training grounds, there were about 10 prepared small wooden arenas already awaiting him in the middle, each having a number written on it.

He inspected each piece of wood that had an a.s.sortment of numbers on it and a.s.sumed that the warriors numbered 1-20 were going to fight first. Thus, he found the small arena with the number 13 on it.

He walked inside and once again waited until his opponent was ready, it appeared as though most of the fox-kin were confused whilst searching for the arena they were meant to fight in. He could see a few elite soldiers directing some lost souls, which further proved his theory that there were many organizers present.

After waiting for another quarter of an hour, finally, his opponent stepped into the ring. He was relatively tall, standing at 6 feet, his muscles were bulging and his face was clean-shaven. His hairline was receding and overall, he looked like a strong middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man looked left and right for a moment before setting his eyes on Caesar, "M-Mr strategist… are you, perhaps, my opponent?" he asked, hesitantly.

Caesar nodded his head in response, "why yes of course I am, do you see anyone else in the ring?" Caesar asked with a chuckle.

The middle-aged man gulped audibly and glanced at the approaching referee nervously… once the referee arrived, he raised his hands in the air and shouted, "begin!"

Many eyes were glued on to this particular arena as not only was Caesar present, but it was also the first fight in the tournament, however, they could only sigh in disappointment at the very next moment.

"I SURRENDER!" the middle-aged man roared and ran away to hide his embarra.s.sment… who could blame him? Nearly all of the elites had seen him singlehandedly take on the 13 clan heads, let alone a mere footsoldier like him. If he stayed, he was courting death!

The man's loud outburst caused Caesar to smile wryly, he looked towards the referee and t.i.tled his head to the side, "am I that scary?" he asked.

The referee, who was a young man, deeply inspected Caesar's outfit and piercing red eyes before nodded his head up and down. "Yes," he replied curtly.