Marvel: AS A PRINCE IN ASGARD

"Come and stamp your entry, record a video. The first game is tomorrow morning," the arena director said, glancing at Ragna before stopping abruptly after recording his identity.

Every day, people participate in bloody battles here. Life and death are something they've long grown accustomed to.

"Hey, new face?" The arena's person in charge was already numb to it all, but the others in the arena were still amused. They needed some way to relax.

"Did he just arrive in Saka? Does he still think he can leave? Does he want to become a champion?" a fighter with a bruised face but a strong body sneered.

"Haha, maybe he's just here to make a quick fortune!" another chimed in.

After each bloody battle, the victor could earn substantial rewards.

"You think you can earn your life? Haha!" The fighters burst into laughter.

The laughter continued until a fighter with a broken hand spoke indifferently, "Who among us isn't risking our lives to earn a living?"

The atmosphere immediately turned silent.

Arena fights are generally divided into two types: ordinary fights and bloody fights. Ordinary fights are about winning and losing, though broken limbs or even occasional deaths are not uncommon. Bloody fights, however, often end with only one survivor—the one who lives to the end becomes the champion.

Thanks to his Tier 3 solar power, Ragna easily dominated the bloodbath. He quickly secured nine consecutive victories. If he won the tenth match tomorrow, he would earn the right to challenge for the championship.

"Your Majesty, tomorrow's opponent won't be easy to deal with. Please be careful," Valina said to Ragna, sipping on wine she could never have afforded before. The betting tables had made her a fortune.

"Oh? In this arena, aside from the Desert Death God, is there anyone who can truly threaten me?" Ragna asked skeptically.

Aside from the Grandmaster, there were only a handful of Tier 3 powerhouses in Saka.

"Perhaps. It's a two-headed ogre—incredibly strong. He must have just arrived in Saka, and he wants to leave too," Valina cautioned.

She had carefully studied each of Ragna's opponents. Willing to give everything for him, she was determined to ensure his safety.

"A two-headed ogre?" Ragna glanced at the Champion Building, constructed by the Tiffany Group, where thirteen heads were displayed in ascending order. Each time a champion was crowned, a new layer was added to the building, and the champion's head was engraved on it. Currently, the image of the Desert Death God, a sheep-headed demon, stood at the top.

"I recall there will be an image of a two-headed ogre there in the future. Could it be him?" Ragna mused.

He picked up his glass, took a sip, and said to Valina, "Don't worry. You know who we are—we are the gods, and I am the Sun God."

As a Protoss with Tier 3 solar power, Ragna was nearly invincible in the universe. Only the universe's overlord could match him, and such a being would never need to participate in bloody battles.

The next day, the bloody battle began as scheduled. Valina sat quietly in the audience, having spent all her money betting on Ragna's victory.

"Ogre! Ogre! Ogre!" The crowd roared in support of the ogre.

Only a scattered few cheered for the Sun God.

The ogre stood nearly five meters tall, with a robust body clad in iron armor. He wielded a two-meter-long mace that weighed several tons, making him an imposing figure.

In contrast, Ragna, standing at just over two meters tall, had shown no exaggerated displays of power in his previous nine bloody battles.

In contrast, the audience supporting the Ogre far outnumbered those cheering for Ragna.

"Break his bones!" 

"Tear him apart!" 

"Eat him! Eat him!" 

The Ogre and Ragna entered the arena, and the Ogre's supporters erupted in excitement. 

"You think you can kill me with that toothpick?" the Ogre growled, his voice deep and menacing. 

Ragna held a one-handed sword, with no shield in hand. The shield provided by the arena would have been useless against the Ogre's mace, which weighed several tons. To the Ogre, Ragna's sword likely looked no more threatening than a toothpick. 

"I'm going to eat you, little man! You'll be delicious," the Ogre taunted, swinging his mace provocatively but not rushing to attack. 

As a Protoss, Ragna's flesh and blood contained immense energy, making him a valuable target. 

"Big man, you are strong," Ragna acknowledged, circling the Ogre cautiously, searching for any weaknesses. 

He could feel the genuine threat the Ogre posed. The Ogre's strength was comparable to third-order divine power, making him a formidable opponent. 

"Come on!" 

"Smash him! Smash him!" 

Both the Ogre and Ragna were wary, moving slowly and deliberately, but the audience grew restless. 

"Today is a rare treat. Two strong contenders—perhaps one of them will become the new champion," the Grandmaster mused, seated on a high platform, watching the confrontation with delight. 

"Cowards! Cowards!" 

"Come on, Ogre!" 

"Tear him apart!" 

The audience's impatience grew louder. 

"No, I can't let them stall any longer. The audience won't wait! Time to start the show!" 

The Grandmaster pulled out a controller and pressed a button. A small device on the Ogre's neck emitted a faint electric current. 

The Ogre shuddered slightly, realizing the Grandmaster's patience had run out.