Chapter 245: Seize, The Coliseum Mode

Chapter 245: Chapter 245: Seize, The Coliseum Mode

After successfully meeting up with Sean Chandler, the pressure on them to survive plummeted.

The two formed a highly effective hunting duo.

Whenever they encountered a lone or injured Tribute from the Hunter faction, Sean Chandler would use his unsuppressed Ability to engage and pin them down.

Meanwhile, Seraphina Sullivan would leverage the tenfold attributes from [Dreadful Upright Ape] and the explosive power of [Fierce Kick], waiting for the right moment to land a killing blow.

Due to the rules, Sean Chandler couldn’t personally kill targets who were also Hunters.

However, restraining them to create the perfect setup for Seraphina was entirely possible.

They cleverly exploited this loophole in the rules, continuously reaping Tributes from the Hunter faction.

When they occasionally ran into opponents from the animal faction, the two would instinctively switch targets. Seraphina would be responsible for tying them up, while Sean Chandler would strike without restraint to eliminate them.

Seraphina also learned what the Hunter faction’s Ability was.

To steal an Ability from whomever they killed.

In fact, Sean Chandler had already stolen an Ability that could slow down his targets.

Thanks to their effective teamwork, they moved like ghosts through the jungle, their odds of survival soaring.

The death announcements in the sky became more and more frequent, the number of casualties climbing at a dizzying pace.

The moment the number of survivors plummeted to one hundred.

The cold, mechanical voice echoed across the hunting grounds once more, but this time, its message brought a decisive change:

[The number of Tributes has fallen to 100!]

[The Final Stage—The Coliseum mode—is now active!]

[Rule Change: All faction divisions are hereby eliminated! Here, there is only life and death!]

[Final Reward: The ten victors who survive will have their Tribute status revoked, be promoted to Free People, and earn the right to leave the Slaughter Game!]

[Attention: The final teleportation will commence in ten minutes! All Tributes, prepare yourselves to enjoy the... final cheers from the entire audience!]

Seraphina’s heart clenched.

She knew very little about the background and rules of this world, the Death Arena, but this final announcement had undoubtedly pushed its cruelty to the absolute limit.

’Out of a hundred people, only ten will survive...’

She looked at Sean Chandler, her expression grave.

"Looks like in this final bloodbath, we not only have to survive, but also fight for two of those ten spots."

Sean Chandler nodded.

Every Tribute who had made it this far was the strongest of the strong.

Among them were plenty of individuals like that Lizardman from before, those with bizarre bloodlines or Special Abilities.

The battle to come was bound to be incredibly brutal.

’Still no sign of Yana Yates!’

Seraphina scanned her surroundings. The dense jungle hid too many secrets.

’Looks like we’ll have to settle the score between us in this final Coliseum.’

Sean Chandler nodded again.

The ten-minute countdown flew by in the oppressive silence.

When the final second ticked away, Seraphina felt an irresistible Space Power envelop her. The world before her eyes instantly blurred and twisted.

A moment later, the dizzying sensation vanished.

Seraphina found herself standing atop a towering, circular stone pillar.

Below her lay an ancient coliseum, so vast it was staggering. Its mottled stone walls were stained with dark blood, and the air was thick with the stench of gore and a murderous Aura.

Surrounding her were ninety-nine identical stone pillars, each topped with a lone figure.

These were the one hundred Tributes who had survived to this point.

She scanned the pillars, trying to locate Yana Yates and Sean Chandler.

Just then, a tidal wave of noise surged from all directions, threatening to tear the dome asunder!

"KILL—!"

"Blood! I want to see more blood!"

"For glory! For freedom! Kill them all!"

"..."

Countless twisted, fanatical, bloodthirsty cries merged into a maddening tide that crashed against the mind.

In the stands, the bizarrely shaped spectators worked themselves into a frenzy. They weren’t cheering for sportsmanship, but for the sheer, unadulterated violence and death about to unfold.

Amid the deafening uproar, an absurd thought suddenly struck Seraphina:

’Is this... really an apocalyptic world?’

This meticulously constructed stage of slaughter, this cruel entertainment where lives were the stakes, this carnival of completely twisted values... It was less an apocalyptic struggle for survival and more a meticulously designed, dark festival.

But then, as she watched the figures in the stands reveling in their bloodlust, she had a sudden epiphany.

’Perhaps... it is precisely this twisted nature—viewing slaughter as entertainment and life as worthless—that makes this world a true ’apocalypse.’’

’A true apocalypse isn’t just the collapse of the environment, but the utter ruin of civilization and morality.’

"Ahem..."

The sound, a slightly hoarse cough, wasn’t loud, yet it miraculously cut through the stadium’s fanatical roar, reaching the ears of every Tribute and spectator.

On the most magnificent dais, situated at the highest point in the center of The Coliseum, an old man slowly walked forward.

It was the same old man who had appeared on the screens earlier.

The master of this Slaughter Game, Maxim.

He had now appeared in person, looking down upon the hundred Tributes on their pillars like a god surveying ants.

"The final feast is about to begin."

Maxim’s voice carried an authority that brooked no argument.

"The rules for the final act of the Slaughter Game are simple. To cast off your wretched status as ’Tributes,’ you must fight! You must kill! When the barrier enveloping The Coliseum rises, only the last ten survivors left standing will be able to end this and earn the title of ’Free People’!"

Seraphina listened intently, her gaze sweeping across the other Tributes on their pillars.

In their eyes, she saw undisguised hostility and a naked lust for slaughter.

And, of course, a desperate desire to survive.

Among them were a fair number whose eyes darted about nervously, their Auras weak and listless.

They probably had no desire to fight, but under such cruel rules, who had the right to refuse?

To not fight was to die.

However, there were always those who refused to be puppets of fate.

Just before the horn for the final battle could sound, something unexpected happened.

Among the hundred Tributes, another old man—this one with white hair and tattered clothes—suddenly stepped forward. He raised a trembling finger, pointed it directly at Maxim on the dais, and let out a roar filled with utter grief and indignation:

"Maxim! You tyrant! You butcher!"

"Look what you’ve done to our world! You led it from one apocalypse to another extreme! As a former Player yourself, is this the world you swore you would ’save’?"

"With your endless brutality and slaughter, you’ve turned our home into this living hell! You personally pushed our world into another apocalypse!"

The earth-shattering accusation stunned the entire Coliseum into silence.

Seraphina’s heart pounded. She held her breath, her focus absolute.

She strained to catch every single word the old man said.