Chapter 91 Tournament Of Power
Chapter 91 Tournament Of Power
The group arrived at the center of town, which was bustling with life—like a full-blown festival. Humans and demihumans filled the streets, decorating arches and buildings with colorful ribbons. The air was alive with laughter, music played on strange magical instruments, and the scent of sizzling food.
People wandered through the plaza with animated energy. In one corner, a performer danced with strange, almost hypnotic movements. Not far off, a stick puppet show had children giggling in delight.
“It feels really cheerful,” Yumi said, her eyes lighting up as she looked around.
“I wonder if it’s some kind of holiday in this world,” Reika muttered, scanning the lively scene.
Alessandra turned her head toward a particular spot in the plaza where a long line of tall warriors had formed. Curious, Iryoku followed her gaze.
Almost at the end of the line stood a tall bear-folk man, clad in thick brown armor with a massive axe strapped to his back. He looked stern and intimidating—until a light poke tapped his shoulder.
He turned sharply, sharp eyes locking onto Iryoku’s relaxed grin.
“Yo, big guy. What’s this line for? They giving out free money or something?” Iryoku asked casually.
The bear-man raised a thick brow, then snorted.
“Shoo, kid. This isn’t for little twigs like you. You might get hurt,” he said with a deep chuckle.
Unbothered, Iryoku leaned in closer.
“Boo… don’t discriminate. Twigs have rights too, y’know.”
A thin, shady-looking man standing behind the bear laughed. His eyes were narrow, and his toothy grin made people instinctively take a step back.
“Look, kid,” he said, sizing Iryoku up.
“This is the main event of the Prosperity Festival. Mr. K is sponsoring a big tournament. Winner takes home a fat pile of coin—and maybe even an invite to Mr. K’s inner circle. He only works with the best.”
The man leaned in, voice lower now.
“You’re not from around here, are you? Mr. K’s circle is small, tight, and ruthless. People respect them. Everyone here wants a shot at his favor.”
The bear-man grunted, eyeing Iryoku again—this time noticing the group behind him: three beautiful girls, two demihuman kids, and a hulking spirit rhino.
His gaze lingered a second too long on the girls. He was about to puff up and brag about his strength, maybe make himself look good—
until he noticed the hickeys on their necks.
And on Iryoku’s.
His expression shifted into something between resentment and resignation, like he’d already lost before even trying.
He turned to the shady man and muttered,
“Why tell them anything? We don’t need more weaklings in the ring.”
The shady man just shrugged.
“The more, the merrier. Besides, the prize pool scales with the number of participants. Entry’s one gold coin per head.”
Iryoku didn’t react to the insult—he was still glowing from his recent breeding time with both Reika and Yumi. His eyes sparkled with amusement.
“A lot of money, huh? A tournament?”
“Isn’t that a little… cliché?” Reika asked, raising an eyebrow.
Yumi nodded.
“Feels like classic shonen,” she added, picturing a certain spiky-haired boy yelling and tossing energy blasts in an arena.
Suddenly, Iryoku reached his hand toward Reika.
“Give it to me.”
She blinked in confusion—then quickly crossed her arms over her chest.
“No. Not in public!” she snapped, face flushing red.
“Didn’t you just have enough with Yumi a few minutes ago?”
Iryoku burst out laughing.
“Not that! I meant your money. Everyone—cough it up. Let’s see if we’ve got enough to enter.”
Reika sighed and checked the pouch.
“It’s not enough. You only gave me twenty silver coins and a couple of coppers… and we don’t have any more.”
Iryoku smirked.
“Actually… I’ve got more.”
He pulled out a few silver coins—and a gold coin—seemingly out of nowhere, his expression dark and smug.
The girls sighed in unison, both amused and suspicious.
They didn’t even want to imagine where he got that money from, especially since he’d claimed he’d given everything to Reika back at the inn.
Now at the front of the line, after being told the rules and structure of the fight, Alessandra stepped closer to Iryoku.
“I want to participate,” she said firmly.
“I think I’m better suited.”
Iryoku turned to her with a cocky smile.
“Don’t worry, dear. Let me handle the dirty work.”
Alessandra’s jaw dropped. So did Reika’s. Yumi nearly choked.
He had said things like that to Yumi and Reika before—but never to Alessandra.
Not sweet. Not charming.
Usually, it was just dumb nicknames or perverted jokes meant to get under her skin.
Her face went crimson in an instant. Kima and Kael, still holding her hands, glanced up at her curiously.
“W-What are you—stop messing around!” she stammered, flustered.
Iryoku just laughed and waved her off, turning away with a bounce in his step.
The group entered the huge stone plaza at the heart of the city. The square was paved with large stone blocks, and long benches surrounded it, already filling with spectators pushing and shoving to find a good spot.
They managed to snag seats right in the front row. Across the massive square, elegant tents were being set up—VIP booths, clearly reserved for nobles or other big shots.
Iryoku vaulted over the short fence, landing smoothly in the contestant area, where a crowd of warriors—humans, beastfolk, and demi-humans—were already preparing. He glanced around, sizing them up one by one.
Then, with a grin, he turned back to the girls.
"Here—The Queen Tits… I mean, The Queen Twins," he said, handing his twin daggers to Yumi. As he presented them, his eyes wandered briefly toward her chest.
She sighed deeply but took the weapons anyway.
Next, he pulled out his alpha werewolf fang, still wrapped in its white rope, and handed it to Reika.
"Hold my big thick harpoon, will ya?"
Reika glanced at Yumi, the two girls sharing the same embarrassed thought without saying a word.
Then, without a hint of shame, Iryoku stripped off his clothes—down to his boxers—revealing his well-defined muscles to the entire crowd… along with a body covered in hickeys.
Yumi and Reika immediately tried to cover their own necks, their faces turning red.
Alessandra’s breath caught in her throat. Though the marks weren’t new to her, her eyes still lingered a little too long—on his sculpted chest, his abs, his arms, his back.
For a moment, she looked almost entranced… until she suddenly snapped out of it, cheeks blazing red.
Iryoku folded his clothes neatly, then added the small dagger he’d taken from Agnes and a couple of throwing knives he still had left. He handed everything to her with a surprisingly gentle smile.
“Here—take care of my stuff, Alessandra.”
She blinked, startled by the sincerity—just before he added, smirking:
“If you want a whiff, go ahead.”
Then he turned and jogged toward the center of the square, stretching his arms and shoulders as he went, chuckling to himself.
Alessandra stared after him, face burning.
“Dumbass,” she muttered under her breath.
Now all the fighters stood aligned in the center of the stone plaza—every single one of them in their underwear. Even the women.
From the VIP area, a hush fell over the crowd. The seats were now filled with important-looking spectators: wealthy merchants, and city officials.
Then he arrived.
The man of the hour—Mr. K—strode onto the viewing platform, flanked by two familiar figures. He wore a sleek, dark ensemble: a white fur-lined cloak draped over his shoulders, a wide-brimmed black hat with a feather, fitted black trousers and boots, and a white shirt. A slender, fencing-style rapier hung from his belt.
His face was hidden behind a smooth, expressionless black mask—but even with it on, the sharp yet elegant features beneath could be seen. A faint scar peeked from below the mask, only adding to his mystique.
The crowd fell completely silent as he passed.
He said nothing as he took his place at the throne-like seat in the center of the VIP box.
Behind him, more intimidating figures filed in—guards, or perhaps elite members of his faction.
Then, two figures stepped forward into the square: the overly muscular woman Goka, clad in heavy armor with a massive shield and sword in hand, and the slim man with two long, curved horns—Ligero—carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows slung across his back.
Ligero raised his hand, smiling with polished charisma.
“Thank you, dear citizens of Babel, for being part of this Festival of Prosperity! Thanks to Mr. K's generous sponsorship, we are proud to host today’s tournament, featuring a prize pool of one hundred gold coins!”
Gasps and murmurs erupted through the crowd. A hundred gold was enough to change a life. And there were exactly a hundred participants.
Ligero continued:
“Now, as you’ve all been informed—no weapons, no Ruach, no Leben, no magic. This is a pure physical brawl. Basic skills only. Every fighter must wear minimal clothing—just underwear—to prevent hidden items. It’s a free-for-all match. No killing allowed. If you’re knocked out of the ring, faint, or surrender—you’re out.”
Then, with a grin, he added,
“Oh—and we’re spicing it up this year.”
Everyone turned toward the platform behind him, where Goka stepped forward. The towering beast-woman pulled off her armor and remaining clothing, revealing a simple fur sports bra and a loincloth. Her rippling muscles flexed with every breath, and her thick curves moved with raw power. She cracked her neck loudly.
A blond elf near the edge of the group frowned.
“That’s not fair! Everyone knows Miss Goka’s strength is off the charts! This is rigged!”
Behind him, five other elves—clearly from the same clan—crossed their arms in agreement.
But Ligero smiled politely.
“Anyone may withdraw at any time. There are no rules against forming alliances, either. And thanks to Mr. K, we’re adding a special reward—the winner will receive double the prize: two hundred gold coins.”
He raised a hand dramatically.
“And, of course, the winner will be offered a position in Mr. K’s organization… or be granted a prestigious rank within the city guard.”
The stakes had just doubled. Nobody said a word after that.
Goka stepped forward onto the arena floor, cracking her knuckles with an audible pop.
Iryoku, lounging lazily and stretching his arms, barely paid attention to the speech. He casually examined the towering beast-woman, then glanced to his side—where the massive bear-folk man he’d stolen from earlier was now standing, his eyes locked on Goka’s body with a look of deep, thirsty admiration.
Iryoku patted the bear-man on the shoulder.
“Go for it, bro,” he whispered with a thumbs-up.
The bear-man blinked, caught off guard. He coughed and looked away, clearly embarrassed, but said nothing as he redirected his focus to the arena ahead.
From their front-row seats, the girls watched in awe as the crowd roared with excitement. The whole plaza buzzed like a stadium before a major match.
To their surprise, it was Alessandra who looked the most hyped—her eyes sparkled with intensity, practically vibrating with eagerness.
“This feels like a sports event back home,” Yumi said, leaning forward as she scanned the rows of fighters for Iryoku.
Reika nodded, her voice calm but lightly amused.
“Surprisingly entertaining. And since killing isn’t allowed, I can actually enjoy it.”
Alessandra’s eyes stayed locked on the ring. She didn’t fully understand why her heart was pounding like this, but something about the atmosphere—the cheering, the energy, the anticipation—felt strangely familiar.
Like something she used to love.
Yumi turned to look at her sensei and smiled. Alessandra looked so happy and carefree in that moment… it was rare to see.
“I think I know why Iryoku didn’t let Sensei join…” Yumi said with a teasing tone, her gaze drifting toward the women on the platform—each dressed in minimal clothing.
Both Reika and Alessandra turned to her, curious.
Yumi giggled, voice soft but sure.
“He’s a really jealous guy.”
Alessandra blinked, confused.
“Huh?”
But Reika’s eyes widened slightly as the meaning clicked.
She nodded slowly, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“That… does sound like him.”
Meanwhile, Kael and Kima were busy munching on meat skewers, eyes wide as they followed the action in the square.
“Big sister,” Kima said between bites, glancing up at Alessandra.
“Can big brother Iryoku really win against those huge guys?”
The women all turned to look back toward the arena.
Alessandra hesitated. Honestly, she wasn’t sure. He was going up against powerful warriors—without his trusted weapons, without Leben—but deep inside… something told her he could.
She gave a quiet nod.
“Yeah… I think he can.”
Both Yumi and Reika nodded as well. They knew this kind of fight wasn’t Iryoku’s usual style, but if there was one thing consistent about him—it was that he always found a way. He was reckless, shameless, and sometimes downright crazy—but he was also resourceful.
And when it mattered… unstoppable.