Prince of The Abyss

Aether looked at the board in front of him, trying to understand how everything worked. On the board were many posters with images and names of gladiators, but more importantly, what was under.

Faction.

And rank.

Really, he had no idea of knowing what either of them meant, so that was why he had asked the receptionist, her shadow, of course, and many Lost around the place. And while he didn’t fully grasp the full vision of what this place was. He did get the majority of it.

There were five ranks, well, actually there were six, but the sixth was a little weird, so he was going to explain it later.

The first rank was the so-called Shattered rank, given to those who just joined the arena, or were prisoners sent to fight for their sins inside this cursed place.

Maybe that explained why the place they slept was worse than a prison.

It is said that battles between people of these ranks are chaotic, brutal, and short. Which could only mean that people of this rank were weak, but more importantly, unskilled, which meant that it would be easier to train; training against a powerful enemy would have helped. But either way.

The next rank was called Branded, which is given to those who proved they could win, those who have gained a small amount of honor to their name. That way, they could be recognized by some.

To reach this rank, you had to win five whole fights, which means you had to kill five people; only then would someone pause to look at you.

But the next was different, The Named was the rank that came after, reached after twelve whole wins, that is double the amount for its predecessor, plus two more wins.

Fighters of this rank have their arena ranks announced properly, echoing through the whole arena. As if they were Gods, many looked up to them, since they were considered the goal for most, since it’s also the point where you can choose to continue or go home, with the money and honor you have already gotten.

You can have stylized entrances as if you were some kind of fighter.

Rivalries begin here, meaning more money, since people spend money to see the fights of people who hate each other, which begs the question of whether these so-called rivalries are real.

It is also when people start to look at you as characters in their own stories, ready to see when the story will end, and how long it will last until you finally fall. It’s kind of funny that when you finally get fame, all that people want is to see you die.

Now, if you were stupid enough to continue, you would realize your mistake soon enough, since to get to the next rank... You have to win a whole of forty battles.

Truly, people who reach this rank are veterans, people who are going to be known in the arena for a while.

The rank is called The Oaths, since it’s said that those who reach it swear an oath to the colosseum.

An oath of loyalty, of spectacle, and of blood.

A good thing is that they get their own rooms inside the arena, not like them who have to live in cages, but whole rooms with beds and bathrooms. He also wanted to take a shower.

When there’s a battle between the two, it is said that they are events; everyone comes to watch them.

You also get your own fan club most of the time, which is cool.

Now the last rank is called, the Crown, the absolute highest tier ever.

There are only a handful of people who have ever reached this rank, and for a good reason, since not only do you have to win all the fights until then to get to the second-to-last rank, but then you have to win sixty more, like that is insanity.

They can choose when they want to fight, instead of fighting every week like the Shattered have to. When it comes to two people of this tier fighting, the whole island would be watching, even the King himself.

They are symbols of the arena, their names and faces being remembered forever.

Once you reach this rank, you can either continue to fight inside and live in an even more luxurious room, or you can leave with the money and honor, and like I said, maybe even take a noble lady as a reward, which goes to show that at this level, not even nobles are worth more.

These were the ranks, and they were important for a hierarchy in the system. It was one of those times, it was actually a good one, since without one, you would have people who haven’t fought until now having to challenge people who had been here for a while, and had a lot more wins.

But the main reason for the ranks was factions.

Factions were sponsors of the arena, so nobles who had way too much money. After your first match, you are able to get a contract with a faction, but in doing so, you have to listen to everything they say, of course, get a lot of items and privileges from them, but you are sealing your soul to them.

They own you.

Your rank matteres a lot in the face of the factions, since as many high rankers a faction has the stronger they are, and of course those greedy nobles want to be the strongest out of them all.

There were five factions.

The Crimson Ledger was a faction that loved profit above pride. With a red coin pierced by a quill as their symbol and with deep crimson and golden colors, they treated fighters as financial assets.

They don’t care about honor, something rare in this place; they care about odds and audience appeal. Choosing fights that maximize their winning ratios.

They loved calculated fighters.

And they would sell their people to other houses if it was profitable.

The Iron Oath, a house where strength is legacy, with a broken sword reforged as their symbol.

They buy fighters who show discipline, restraint, and raw martial excellence.

For them, the arena is a proving ground for future commanders, one of the most serious houses out of them all.

They prefer those who win cleanly.

But they despised showmanship.

The Radiant Court, a faction that considers that spectacle is power. With a sunburst crown as their symbol, with ivory and golden colors, they want stars.

Their fighters are styled, renamed, dramatized. They hire bards. They script entrances. They cultivate fanbases.

If a fighter makes the crowd gasp, they are interested.

They prefer charismatic people with dramatic finishers.

They were dangerous because public opinion bends towards them.

The Veiled Hand, their philosophy was influence through secrecy. With a hand half-covered by shadows as their symbol, and with midnight blue and silver as their colors, they don’t buy obvious champions.

But they do buy unpredictable ones.

They place their fighters in specific moments for hidden political outcomes. Assassinations disguised as duels. Debts settled in the pit.

They preferred quiet observers and fighters who think before striking.

And the last faction was The Sky Concord, considering that the arena reflected the order of the heavens. With a winged scale as their symbol and the obvious pale blue and silver colors, they believe that combat reveals divine alignment.

They buy fighters based on signs and resonances. Sometimes, illogical picks.

They treat their fighters almost like chosen instruments.

When it comes to what they preferred, it was fighters with unusual aura, and those who feel different.

Now the question came, what faction was he going to join? I mean, he did notice that some fit him more than others, and that some treated their fighters better than others did, but he had long made this decision before he even knew the factions existed.

Earlier, he had said there were six ranks, but only explained five.

The sixth, aka the Unranked, were those who didn’t want to be a part of this system.

They are people who can’t rank up, but at the same time aren’t branded by any faction, meaning they are alone for all of their time in the colosseum, no extra loot, but at the same time, they are free to do whatever they want.

Yet it was also dangerous since, without a rank, he could be challenged by any rank, meaning he could be fighting a newbie and then someone who is considered the final boss of this place.

But at the same time, Aether had chosen this rank so he could have diversity in his training.

And looking at the board for so long, looking at the many names and ranks, and figuring out what they meant after a long journey, he had finally made a decision, one he considered perfect to start his training.

Now all he had to do was wait for his turn.