Transmigrated as a Ghost

With Gurrom having won his first match and joined Marcus in the stands.

The two of them looked down onto the arena's ring as the next set of competitors entered.

One of them was a man who would definitely be considered handsome with golden hair and a chiseled face.

He wore adamantine armor and also had what appeared to be an adamantine scepter at his hip, along with robes that would boost his magical abilities.

It was quite obvious that he was a mage and one of the few in the competition.

So far Marcus had seen very few dedicated magic users since the tournament's rules were typically more in favor of melee fighters.

The ring while large was still a confined space, and with no means of backup or the ability to prepare beforehand, a mage who had to chant a spell would be taken out before they could accomplish anything.

Of course, at this level plenty of mages had the chant shortening skill allowing them to get off spells much quicker, but they were still at a disadvantage having to face a warrior head on.

However, as Marcus appraised this blonde-haired man, he found that his level was fairly impressive at level forty-eight.

It certainly was not the highest in the tournament, but still above the curve for the majority of fighters.

Still his opponent did not appear to be a slouch either and was a level forty-four mountain of a man with two great swords hoisted over his back.

"On my right we have the man known as the wilderness knight, Dagwood. He has taken it upon himself to protect the villages that live on the frontiers of the northeastern part of the kingdom and makes sure that they are safe from monster or beast attacks. And on my left we have the first son of Viscount Mudak, Lord Wyatt Mudak. His father is one of the leading archmages in the kingdom, and his son here has followed in his footsteps being an accomplished mage himself."

It was not long after the commentator slash referee had made the introduction of the two fighters that the match began.

To start off Dagwood, charged straight towards Wyatt knowing the best way to deal with a mage was to strike before they could cast.

Yet as Dagwood was just a dozen feet from Wyatt, he mumbled some words under his breath and Dagwood slwoly came to stand still.

It was obvious that Wyatt had cast some type of spell, but similar to when Natalia was fighting, what had actually happened was a mystery.

Dagwood, a man that stood over two meters tall, had stopped mid charge seemingly of his own accord since his pace had simply slowed until he stopped moving.

Still, what happened next was even more astounding, as Dagwood turned around and began walking to the edge of the ring, before jumping out as if he had given up.

Everyone was stunned to see this.

Never in the tournament's history had someone simply walked out of the ring and stood there.

In fact, even the referee was so stunned he had not started the ten count until Wyatt, said, "My opponent is out of the ring, should you not start counting."

Catching himself, the referee shook his head to get himself out of his daze and began the countdown.

Soon he reached the end of the count and Dagwood was still just standing there unmoving, as if nothing in the world mattered to him anymore.

"And that is the end, the winner is Lord Wyatt Mudak. I do not know what came over Dagwood, but I suppose he decided to forfeit."

However, as the match came to an end, Dagwood started moving again, looking around and wondering how he had ended up outside of the ring.

Running up towards the referee Dagwood, asked, "What happened why did you call the match."

Looking at him in a confused manner, the halfling man said, "You were outside of the ring for ten seconds, that is why. You are the one who walked out of your own accord, so I do not know why you are asking me."

Of course, the referee had actually already figured out at this point what Wyatt had done, but he was not about to go blabbing about such a dangerous person's abilities.

With raging building up in him and his eyes going blood shot, Dagwood looked at Wyatt who was exiting the arena and yelled, "You, what did you do to me."

But Wyatt did not even acknowledge his former competitor's shouts and kept walking, causing Dagwood to completely lose his cool.

"Ahhhh."

Letting out a scream of fury Dagwood charged towards Wyatt planning to beat the answers he wanted out of him, but before he got farm, the referee he had complete disregarded appeared in his way.

Putting out his foot, the halfling man tripped Dagwood who was five times his size, before grabbing him by the armor and smashing his face straight into the ring.

"The match is over, you lost. But if you still want to fight I do not mind going a round with you before tossing you into a cell."

Feeling the cold gaze of the referee he had barely registered before, it now felt like a giant was looking over him, and that at any moment he might be crushed.

Standing up Dagwood put away his swords and quickly left the ring, not wanting anything else to do with the tournament.

He had come here to get more resources for those he protected but him being locked up would not help.

'This capital is full of more monster than even the woods. I am never coming back here again.'

With that last though Dagwood ran out of the arena planning never to come back to such a place again.

…

"Well, that was an interesting match albeit a short one. Oh, and do you happen to know what type of magic that guy used Gurrom." Marcus said hoping that his fellow apprentice knew.

Shaking his head Gurrom said, "I am not sure what it is. I have a couple ideas, but I am not sure. Maybe it was some type of skill that alters perception, or it could have been invisible strings or something."

With a disappointed frown, Marcus knew it was unlikely, but he was hoping that Gurrom would know what type of tricks the guy named Wyatt had used.

As Marcus had watched the tournament, he found that plenty of other people possessed rare or strange abilities that he could not fully comprehend.

However, as the next competitors came out into the center of the arena Marcus pushed those thoughts to the back of his head.

Other than watching Gurrom, this was the fight he had been looking forward to the most, it was time for Mrazivý's first match.

'Now the question is, if she is going to win. Her opponent is level forty-nine, and if she has not leveled up, she is only level forty-three.'

Still Marcus knew that a level difference was not always definitive in the outcome of a battle, and Mrazivý's quality was top notch, not to mention she had a unique skill.

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