Re-Awakening: I Ascend with a Legendary class

They didn’t land inside the city.

That would’ve been stupid.

Instead, Lily guided Shadeglide along the outer mountain ridge, far from the main traffic routes. The Dreadling slipped through the clouds like a shadow that didn’t belong to the sky, descending behind a cluster of jagged rocks overlooking the basin.

The moment they touched ground, the creature folded in on itself and dissolved into darkness.

Gone.

No trace.

No residue.

Just wind brushing against stone.

“Alright,” Almond said, standing up and stretching slightly. “From here, we walk.”

The road into the city was busy.

Not in a clean, organized way.

More like… constant movement.

Caravans rolled in from different territories, carrying goods, slaves, and materials. Some were escorted by armored guards. Others were just long lines of chained people walking under supervision.

No one paid attention to Almond and the others.

That was the best part.

They looked normal.

No chains.

But not dressed like elites either.

Just another group entering the city.

The closer they got, the louder it became.

At first, it was just noise.

Then it turned into layers.

Voices shouting.

Metal clashing.

Music blasting from some unknown source.

And underneath all that—

The roar.

A massive, constant roar of a crowd somewhere deep inside the city.

Natalia grinned.

“Yeah… that’s the arena.”

They passed through a massive open gate carved into the outer wall of the city.

No guards stopped them.

No one checked anything.

This place wasn’t about control.

It was about flow.

People came.

People left.

Money moved.

Everything else was secondary.

Inside—

It was chaos.

But controlled chaos.

Tall structures rose everywhere, stacked in layers like vertical streets. Holographic runes flickered across building walls, advertising fights, betting odds, rare items, and upcoming events.

“LIVE BLOODBRAWL—TOP FLOOR.”

“ODDS UPDATED—TIER-10 FIGHTER ENTERING.”

“SLAVE CHALLENGE MATCH—REGISTER NOW.”

The air itself felt different.

Charged.

Excited.

Alive.

Saffa looked around, whistling.

“Yeah… this place is insane.”

Ainen’s eyes were already scanning everything.

Food stalls.

Weapon shops.

Drink counters.

“Yep. We’re definitely staying here.”

Clovelle adjusted her glasses.

“Focus.”

She pointed ahead.

“The Arena Complex.”

The closer they got, the bigger it felt.

From a distance, it looked large.

Up close—

It was ridiculous.

The outer structure alone towered like a mountain of black metal, layered with glowing rings that pulsed slowly like a heartbeat.

Multiple entrances lined the base.

Each one wide enough to let thousands pass at once.

Crowds poured in and out constantly.

Some excited.

Some disappointed.

Some injured.

Some laughing.

The group stopped just outside one of the entrances.

Almond looked up.

“Alright.”

“No unnecessary moves.”

“No showing off.”

“We go in, register, and fight.”

Natalia cracked her neck.

“Finally.”

Inside—

The scale got worse.

Huge corridors stretched in all directions, filled with people moving between sections of the arena.

Above them, floating screens displayed live fights happening in different arenas.

One screen showed a Tier-9 beast tearing through three fighters.

Another showed a duel between two humanoids moving too fast for most eyes to follow.

The crowd reacted to each one.

Cheering.

Shouting.

Betting.

The energy never dropped.

They followed the signs toward Slave Fighter Registration.

It wasn’t hidden.

It wasn’t a secret.

It was just another part of the system.

A large hall opened up before them.

Inside—

Hundreds of people.

Some were clearly slaves.

Some weren’t.

Some looked desperate.

Others looked… dangerous.

A counter stretched across the far side of the hall.

Behind it stood several attendants, each handling registrations at high speed.

No nonsense.

Just process.

“Next.”

…

After registering, the group wasn’t separated, but was instead led towards one arena together.

The registration didn’t take long.

Names. Tier. Deck status.

A quick scan.

A band around the wrist.

Done.

No one asked unnecessary questions. No one cared who they were beyond what they could offer inside the arena.

Fighters.

Entertainment.

Profit.

That was all that mattered here.

…

Instead of splitting them into different brackets or matches, an attendant returned after a brief exchange with the system and motioned for all nine of them to follow.

“Full team entry,” he said, walking ahead without looking back. “You’ve been placed together.”

Natalia smirked.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

They followed him through a different corridor this time, one that branched away from the standard duel arenas and team battle pits. The path grew wider, the ceiling higher, and the sound of the crowd became heavier, deeper, like a storm building behind thick walls.

The floor beneath their feet vibrated faintly.

Not from footsteps.

From impact.

Heavy impact.

Saffa glanced around.

“…This isn’t a normal arena, is it?”

Clovelle shook her head slightly.

“No. The structure is larger.”

Ainen smiled.

“Good.”

…

The corridor ended at a massive gate.

Not just a door.

A gate.

Easily fifty meters tall, layered with reinforced metal and rune-locks glowing faintly along its surface. Above it, a massive projection screen flickered to life.

Text began to form.

SPECIAL STAGE—ARENA 7

EVENT TYPE: SIEGE BATTLE

The crowd noise surged.

The attendant finally turned back toward them.

“You’ll enter together.”

“Survive as long as you can.”

He paused, then added flatly—

“Or don’t.”

The gate behind him began to open slowly.

Light poured in.

The roar hit them fully this time.

…

The arena was enormous.

Far larger than anything they had seen on the way in.

It wasn’t a flat battlefield.

It was layered terrain.

Broken structures.

Elevated platforms.

Collapsed walls.

Fragments of ruined buildings were scattered across a wide open field that stretched for kilometers.

Like a destroyed city turned into a battlefield.

And surrounding all of it—

Stands.

Endless stands.

Millions of spectators filled them.

The noise was overwhelming.

Cheering.

Laughing.

Shouting.

Betting calls echoing from every direction.

Above the arena, a massive floating platform hovered.

The host stood there.

Dressed in exaggerated attire, his voice amplified across the entire arena.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—”

The crowd roared louder.

“WELCOME TO TODAY’S SPECIAL SIEGE EVENT!”

The screen above displayed the nine of them clearly.

“WE HAVE A FRESH TEAM OF NEW SLAVE FIGHTERS—”

“—ALL TIER SIX!”

That got a reaction.

Some laughter.

Some whistles.

Some mocking cheers.

Natalia rolled her neck slowly.

“…Yeah. I can already tell what kind of show this is.”

The host grinned widely.

“And TODAY—”

He raised both arms dramatically.

“THEY WILL FACE WAVE AFTER WAVE OF BLOODTHIRSTY MONSTERS!”

The arena trembled slightly.

Gates around the far edges of the battlefield began to glow.

“STARTING FROM TIER SIX!”

“AND RISING!”

“ALL THE WAY!”

He leaned forward slightly.

“TO TIER TEN!”

The crowd exploded.

Some laughed. Some felt pity.

“Just say all the way until they die, bwahahaha!”

“It’ll be fun guessing how long these last. They look pretty neat and strong.”

Excitement surged instantly.

Not because it was fair.

But because it wasn’t.

Floating panels appeared across the arena.

BETTING OPEN

HOW LONG WILL THEY LAST?

WAVE CLEAR COUNT

TOTAL SURVIVAL TIME

Numbers started shifting rapidly.

Millions of bets pouring in within seconds.

Most of them had low expectations.

Five minutes.

Eight minutes.

Ten, if they were generous.

Some bets even predicted they wouldn’t survive past the Tier-8 wave.

Saffa looked up at the panels and snorted.

“Wow.”

“They really want us dead.”

Ainen laughed.

“Of course they do.”

Clovelle adjusted her glasses.

“Statistically reasonable from their perspective.”

Natalia cracked her knuckles.

“Too bad for them, the great Miss Fortune is here. Let’s make sure everyone loses money except for us.”

The nine of them stood together in the center of the battlefield.

No formation yet.

Just presence.

Calm.

Unbothered.

Almond glanced once across the arena.

Multiple gates.

At least twelve.

“All directions,” he said quietly.

Kayla nodded.

“Surround pressure.”

Lily’s lips curved slightly.

“Good.”

Gopu stretched his arms. “Can I go dragon?”

“No! Start getting used to being a humanoid, brat.” Saffa snorted.

“Tsk.”

…

The first gates opened.

The monsters came out immediately.

No delay.

No buildup.

They rushed.

Dozens.

Tier-6 creatures poured into the arena from every direction. Beast-like, armored, fast, aggressive. Their eyes glowed with rage as they charged toward the center.

The crowd leaned forward.

Waiting.

Watching.

Some expecting panic.

Some expecting clean clear of the first wave.

But they got none.

Almond stepped forward first.

The movement was simple.

Clean.

His blade appeared.

Not the first one.

The second.

Edge of Ruin.

The air around the blade stirred uneasily.

Like something was about to collapse.

The first wave reached them.

Too fast for normal fighters.

Too many angles.

Too much pressure.

Almond swung.

The ground cracked.

Not metaphorically.

Actually cracked.

A single strike hit the terrain in front of him, and the entire surface fractured outward like glass breaking under pressure.

The front line of monsters lost footing instantly.

Several dropped into sudden gaps.

Others stumbled.

That was enough.

The second strike came immediately.

Faster.

He cut through one creature cleanly.

A faint mark burned onto its body.

Then another.

Then a third.

The creature didn’t even get to react.

It exploded.

A violent burst of ruin energy tore through the surrounding monsters, shredding several at once.

…

Kayla moved next.

Roots erupted from the ground, spreading through the broken terrain like a living network. The battlefield stabilized under her control while hostile movement was disrupted.

Creatures got caught.

Pulled.

Crushed.

…

Natalia lifted her baton.

The air filled with sound instantly.

Instruments formed around her in a tight orbit.

The first wave didn’t even reach half distance before golden resonance waves tore through them, blasting entire groups apart.

…

Saffa laughed.

“Alright, that’s warm-up done.”

Her weapon formed.

The massive gearhammer slammed into the ground.

The impact alone shattered another cluster of monsters into pieces.

…

Above.

Ainen’s flames ignited.

But not wildly.

Controlled.

Refined.

Monsters that entered his range didn’t burn.

They got processed.

…

Lily didn’t even move much.

Her Dreadlings were already everywhere.

Small shadows slipping through the battlefield.

Every weakened monster was finished.

Every opening exploited.

…

The first wave was gone within seconds.

The arena was silent for a split second.

Then the crowd reacted.

Confusion first.

Then excitement.

Then louder cheers.

…

“OH?”

The host leaned forward.

“THAT WAS FAST!”

The betting panels shifted.

Numbers recalculated.

New bets poured in.

Almond and the gang looked at each other and nodded with a knowing glint in their eyes.

They would only show enough power to clear the current wave and start showing that they were barely hanging on.

Despite the truth being that they could kill thousands of Tier-10 Monsters together with no trouble.

…

The second wave gates began to open.