Horse-Face Thor.
Bant recognized the guy from Bill's facial structure.
Only now did he realize that "Horse-Face Thor" wasn't actually a horse. His race was the Korbinites, and a true Korbinite didn't even look like this.
Bill had been modified into a biomechanical form to protect his people. He was essentially a cyborg.
Bill still hadn't met Thor, and he certainly hadn't lifted Mjolnir yet. Even so, in Bant's memory, Bill had once been one of Sakaar's many champions. He never expected Bill to lose here.
"Looks like the Red Wind Queen is really strong," Bant murmured.
At this moment, Bant had already placed the Red Wind Queen at the top of his list of obstacles to conquering Sakaar.
He walked to Bill's side. In the eyes of that terrifying half-mechanical creature, there were tears of unwillingness.
"Bill, your luck is already good. At least you're still alive. The Red Wind Queen doesn't like killing people. The last champion would snap challengers' necks outright," Margus comforted him.
But Bill silently shook his head.
He wasn't crying because he lost. He was in despair over the fate of the people he was sworn to protect.
Before he arrived on Sakaar, the massive fleet carrying the last remaining spark of the Korbinite race had been attacked. With no choice, he froze all his people, then led a small squad to intercept the attackers.
In the end, he failed. His team was wiped out. He drifted unconscious through space and became the Red King's slave.
Losing to the Red Wind Queen meant he would never regain his freedom, never fulfill his duty again.
And those last Korbinites, after losing their protector, were nothing but a corpse in the face of the cruel universe, waiting for beasts to come and tear them apart.
Bant noticed that although most gladiators were comforting Bill, after witnessing his defeat, their morale was low.
Clearly, Bill was already the strongest among them. Yet even he wasn't the Red Wind Queen's match. They couldn't imagine who could possibly defeat her.
The road to freedom had a towering mountain blocking it.
"So if we want to leave, we'll have to overthrow the Red King's rule," Bant said calmly.
That single sentence quieted the previously noisy dungeon. Everyone stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
Korg hurriedly covered Bant's mouth and lowered his voice. "Are you crazy? How dare you say something like that?"
Then he explained rapidly, "I'm not saying your idea is bad. I actually want to do it too. But don't say it so loudly. If the Death Crowns hear it, we're dead. And if we want to overthrow the Red King, we need to start promoting it early, print posters, launch mobilization…"
Korg rattled on in one breath. His mouth was even more nonstop than Peter's.
Bant shook free of Korg's rocky arms, crouched in front of Bill, and pressed the little broken watch against him. The watch flashed again. Then Bant said, "Don't worry. The Korbinites won't go extinct."
Bill hadn't expected this stranger to say something like that. It was as if gentle hands smoothed the chaos in his heart, and his body trembled uncontrollably.
Bant looked weak. His thigh wasn't even thicker than one of Bill's arms. But for some reason, after hearing Bant's words, Bill didn't feel as crushed. Those words pierced him like a tranquilizer sinking into his veins.
It wasn't that he suddenly believed Bant could definitely do it. It was just that for the Bill of right now, hope was the only thing he could cling to. He had to steady himself and find a way to escape this planet.
What Bill didn't know was that Bant wasn't talking about the survivors' immediate fate.
He meant that the spark of Korbinite civilization had already been recorded into the true Noah's Ark.
Even if the remaining Korbinites perished, Bant could recreate their species.
Truthfully, most of the genes Bant recorded here had little practical value.
If these alien races truly possessed overwhelming personal power, they wouldn't be stuck squatting in a filthy place like this. They would have cleared three victories and won their freedom long ago.
He collected these genes mostly to fill the little broken watch with data, which would help him later when he built his own watch.
After everyone finished comforting Bill, they soon dispersed again.
"Come on. I'll take you to pick out a weapon," Korg said calmly as he tugged Bant along, as if Bill's defeat had never happened.
It wasn't that they didn't sympathize with Bill. It was that their own suffering wasn't much better.
They'd seen too many newcomers arrive not long ago, burning with rage, unwilling to accept humiliation, convinced they could defeat the champion. In the end, they were crushed like mantises trying to stop a chariot, killed without mercy, or crippled for life, rotting in a cage…
Compared to them, Bill was lucky.
He was still alive.
He still had another chance to challenge the champion.
Even though everyone knew that after failure after failure, the fire of his conviction would inevitably dim, until he sank completely into this mire and merged with the darkness.
Just like Korg and Margus. They still talked about revolution, but in their actions, they had long since given up.
Bant didn't say anything about that.
Because he understood that for gladiators who had accepted slavery as their fate, living in a daze day after day with no tomorrow, words would always be pale.
You could tell them to persist, to believe there was still hope, still a tomorrow. To believe freedom's light would never be buried. To believe that gathered strength could defeat any hardship…
But the hardships they'd witnessed, and the brutal truth they'd swallowed, were far worse than anything you could imagine.
They'd watched passionate warriors get twisted into meat knots in the arena, their guts and spines ripped out alive…
They weren't numb by nature. They became this way through repeated, painful experiences.
Any speech was nothing more than a painless mockery from those who stood above.
What they needed was a victory.
It didn't even have to be a real victory. They only needed to see the possibility of winning, to see what freedom looked like.
Like rainfall after a long drought.
Like people lost in a desert, where only a clear spring could wash away exhaustion.
Even if it was just a mirage.
Conquering this planet wasn't something he could do alone. The only thing he could do was hold up the flames and lead everyone forward.
Bant realized it clearly now.
He needed a thunderous, world-shaking victory to reignite the fire in their hearts, a fire that was already close to going out.
And the stage and the enemy were already prepared.
So, under Korg's stunned gaze, Bant turned and walked toward the cell door, shouting, "I want to challenge the Red Wind Queen!"
/-\
If you would like to support me and read advanced chapters, check out my Patreon!
~ +20 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon! (+1 Chapter daily)
https://p-atreon.com/Its_Zack
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access Patreon normally)
/-\
~# Keep the chapters coming - Support with Power Stones!
~# Every 50 Power Stones = Bonus Chapter