【Forbidden for the Brave】(3)

Chapter Three: The First Battle

Sunlight streamed into the bedroom, warm and comforting. I turned over, groggily opening my eyes, and was startled to see a pair of large

eyes staring at me from the bedside. I sat bolt upright, and she seemed startled too.

"Ah…" she cried out, falling back to the floor.

"Why did you scare me!"

I exclaimed. She seemed genuinely frightened, her eyes filled with tears as she spoke with a pitiful expression.

"I was waiting for you to wake up, but you didn't wake up for a long time, so I got distracted. Who knew you'd suddenly sit up!"

I scratched my head helplessly.

"Ah…ah…let's go get breakfast first…"

Although the inn offered breakfast, we decided to detour to the tavern to check on the landlady. We arrived at

the tavern but didn't see the landlady; only the owner was serving customers, his eyes red-rimmed. We went over and asked about

the landlady 's condition. The owner looked at us gratefully and said she'd be fine after some rest. His weak tone

was truly pitiful.

We then ordered breakfast and ate. However, the tavern was nearly empty. Curious, I asked the owner what

had happened, and he told us.

"Oh, after what happened last night, the village chief moved the registration point to the council hall, so it's a bit quieter here. But

it's not much better at night; some people don't even pay. But since we earn more than usual, we can tolerate it

. It's a pity about my wife... sigh..."

Seeing the shopkeeper fall into worry again, we didn't want to disturb him. We ate quickly and decided to go to the arena to check

it out.

Actually, we'd been in the village for several dozen days and had wandered into the arena a few times, but we hadn't observed it closely

. Today, we paid special attention and found that although it was now a ruin, it was still quite magnificent. From afar, we could see

two giant gladiator statues at the entrance. One held a shield and sword, in a defensive posture, while the other held

a giant axe , seemingly about to cut the opponent and shield in half. Although the patterns and carvings on the walls were old and dilapidated

, we could still see some ingenious designs.

As we approached the entrance, we could hear a commotion inside. Others, like us, were still

arriving . There were ticket booths at the entrance; entry was free for participants. It was said that the organizers of this tournament were

originally the bandits, and had now grown into a powerful conglomerate.

Since we weren't planning to participate, we bought tickets. The arena's gates were indeed grand and imposing; stepping inside

made me feel incredibly small. Although I'd been here many times, this was my first time. The arena itself was

circular, but the ring was square, about 500 square meters in size. It was

completely separated from the audience by a deep ditch, with only eight narrow passages leading from under the audience to the ring. The ditch was filled with sharp blades;

falling in meant certain death.

The matches didn't seem to have started yet, but the arena was already nearly full, so we had to find a bad spot to sit

.

"Ahem, everyone, please be quiet."

A loud voice rang out in the square, indicating the host had arrived. A middle-aged

man , his portly figure suggesting he'd eaten well, wore expensive clothes that made him look

like a glowing ball in the sunlight. He held a Dragon Sound Stone, a legendary stone said to be formed from the accumulated saliva of dragons

—the truth of which was unknown, though it was often discovered by explorers in dragon's lair. This stone amplifies

sound by a factor of two and reflects it back; after being processed into a spiral shape, it became an amplifying device.

"Without further ado, I hereby declare the 13th Hunting Competition officially open today! All participants

must strictly abide by the rules; a bet is a bet! Today's competition is the individual F-rank competition."

A deafening roar of cheers erupted from the arena.

"What? Individual F-rank?"

Anya looked at me helplessly.

"The competition is divided into F, E, D, C, B, A, and S levels, as well as individual and team competitions. The level is

determined by the quality of the prizes; the higher the quality of the competition, the more generous the prizes, and the more skilled the participants. Of course, the tickets are also more expensive."

Oh, I see. I was just secretly glad the tickets weren't too expensive. Looks like if we don't make some money, we might not even be able to afford to watch the competition

...

"The results of the first draw: Number 13 versus Number 7!"

A cheer erupted, followed by the clanging of chains. Two

massive iron cages rose from the corners of the arena. One cage contained a large pile of gold coins and several rather unique weapons. The other cage

held a slender young girl, appearing to be only 16 or 17 years old, but with a

remarkably mature figure, clearly well-endowed with breasts at least a C-cup. She looked quite energetic.

Her companion was a middle-aged man in his thirties or forties, a shield-wielding swordsman. Her opponent was an

archer in his early thirties, carrying several daggers. With a resounding "thud," the first battle

officially began.

The archer leisurely drew an arrow from behind his back and nocked it.

"I noticed your woman when I entered. I didn't expect the gods to have truly chosen

you. Where did you get such a beautiful girl?"

The archer glanced at him coldly, raised his shield to his chest, and looked ready to charge.

"Ah...ah...look, the two duelists have begun their mental duel. If I remember correctly,

contestant number 7 is Craig Iron Shield, who also participated in the F-class competition last year. However, he lost

his , and she eventually died suddenly in the winner's bed. This year, he has brought his 17-year-old

daughter! Let's cheer for him!"

As the host introduced him, cheers rang out in the arena. But Craig didn't like this

introduction. Rage consumed his reason. He used Wind Walk, a fast movement technique that all martial artists know. However,

shield warriors usually refine this technique because they are usually wearing heavy armor. Their starting speed is relatively slow, but once

they move relying on the high inertia brought by the heavy armor and using their shields as weapons, they can create a powerful shockwave.

In the blink of an eye, Craig rushed in front of the man number 7. But unfortunately, blinded by rage, he ignored the fact that his opponent was an evasion-type

martial artist who could quickly dodge the attack. Number 7 quickly flashed behind Craig and drew the bowstring to its maximum.

"I've taken your goods, loser."

With a swift and deadly strike, Craig didn't even have a chance to surrender; the real duel lasted only seconds.

It was over.

"Wow! What a fast arrow! What a clean fight! Number 7 Rayleigh has won the first match! Let's

see how he handles his spoils! Will he take them home for himself? Or will we feast our eyes on them? Let's cheer for

Rayleigh!"

The crowd erupted in a deafening roar.

"Rayleigh! Rayleigh! Rayleigh! Rayleigh!"

These shouts weren't mostly because Rayleigh's fight was spectacular, but rather to ignite his

vanity so he could display his prowess in front of everyone.

The iron cage bars in the corner slowly lowered. The girl looked at her father's corpse in the distance and tears streamed down her face. Although she hated

her father for using her mother as a gamble, she at least understood that the family's initial poverty had led her father, who possessed considerable martial arts skills,

astray. But she hated him even more for drowning his sorrows in alcohol after losing her mother, and finally, one day, while drunk, forcibly tearing open

her nightgown.

She vaguely remembered that night when her father's rough hands wantonly kneaded her breasts, the pain of his large penis

penetrating her vagina, and how he cried out her mother's name while rapidly

thrusting into her, until finally filling his tender flesh with that sinful seed.

She hated her father for his unrepentant habit of venting his frustrations on her every time. She could vaguely remember his semen on her face, mouth, breasts,

vagina , anus, every inch of her skin. But now, her father was lying

nearby, and she didn't know why she was crying.

Rayleigh walked over, pulled the girl up, and shouted to the audience,

"Do you want to see?"

"Yes!"

"Who do you want to see!"

"We want to see Rayleigh!" "

Why do you want to see me do this!"

"Watch Rayleigh fuck her!"

Anya looked very uneasy. This morbid atmosphere seemed only she, sitting in the audience, could

feel . Perhaps she was putting herself in that girl's shoes, considering what she would face if she lost.

Rayleigh excitedly covered the girl's mouth with his own. He had spent the past two years exploring and desperately gathering this treasure

for this very moment. On his journeys, he had only encountered vulgar prostitutes; this kind of girl was what he truly desired

. After he was done with her, he could use her as capital for the next competition, perhaps even winning the championship and

dominating the elven princess.

Growing increasingly excited, his hands began to roam over the girl's body, kneading her breasts through

her clothes , his tongue probing her mouth, saliva dripping from the corners of his lips.

He then tried to pull her clothes down from her shoulders, but they got caught at her elbows. This

exposed most of her breasts, making them appear exceptionally alluring. Undeterred, he knelt down and

began to suckle one of her nipples fiercely.

The arena fell into an eerie silence, but Rayleigh's voice was unusually loud. Almost everyone present could

hear the frantic sucking sounds of his mouth as he greedily sucked on the girl's breasts. A closer look revealed that the arena floor

was inlaid with dragon-sound stones—the organizers had certainly gone to great lengths.

Rayleigh's one hand remained on the other breast, kneading it relentlessly. The girl groaned

intermittently . His other hand was already under her skirt, moving rhythmically; it seemed

the impatient Rayleigh had already inserted his fingers into her vagina.

Suddenly, the girl resisted, pushing him away. Caught off guard, Rayleigh fell to

the ground , eliciting laughter from the crowd.

Before the girl could run far, Rayleigh angrily rushed over, shoved her to the ground,

and slapped her twice. For an ordinary girl, those two slaps would have taken a long time to recover

from. In a fit of rage, Rayleigh tore open the girl's clothes, the sound of tearing fabric filling the arena.

Rayleigh pulled out his penis and swung it triumphantly in front of the girl. He grabbed her hair and

pulled her up, the girl offering only weak resistance but unable to stop him.

He shoved his penis into her mouth, stretching it taut. Then, Rayleigh began rhythmically

thrusting his penis back and forth, the girl's mouth making slurping sounds. He gradually increased the force, thrusting his hips

rapidly Each time he entered, the girl's nose would hit Rayleigh's lower abdomen, and each time

he withdrew, the girl would gag, but still couldn't stop his rapid thrusting.

Then, he pulled out his penis and flipped the girl over with one hand. The girl lay helplessly on the ground, her buttocks raised high by

Rayleigh . He raised his head to the audience, as if he was about to complete a great feat. Then, he

placed his hands on the girl's slender waist, his monstrous member pressing tightly against her tender bud, slowly

pushing inside.

"Oh! Damn! So tight! Did your dad fuck you properly...? Why is your little hole so tight...? Damn..."

Rayleigh said as he began to thrust.

"How is it? Bigger than your dad's, right?"

Every time the girl heard the word "dad," her vagina would twitch. Rayleigh noticed this and

slowly did this

dozens of times until her vagina slowly became wet.

"Hahaha, you slut, isn't it much better than when your dad fucks you! You're already so wet, so

I'll make you feel even better!"

He said, and began to thrust vigorously. The girl was so fucked that she couldn't even beg for mercy clearly, and could only moan

intermittently .

"No...no...ah...ah...no...please...don't...don't...go in...

ah..."

"Is Daddy fucking you good?...From now on, I'm your daddy...I'll introduce you to

some uncles later...hahahaha..."

Rayleigh paid no heed to the girl's cries and began to thrust even harder into her tender honey hole, one hand

reaching for her breasts, squeezing and kneading them wantonly.

The girl began to slowly make sounds of pleasure, "Oh...oh...hmm..." The two of them

thrust in and out in this doggy-style position hundreds of times, and the girl seemed to have been fucked to the point of ecstasy, unable to distinguish her own state, and began

to moan loudly.

"Oh...ah...don't be so hard...ah...Daddy...Daddy...slower...ah...okay"

"So good...don't stop..."

Rayleigh laughed heartily, the continuous thrusting below making squelching sounds that told everyone that her little cunt

was overflowing with lustful fluids, occasionally spurting out from between her cunt and his penis with a squelching sound.

Finally, Rayleigh could no longer resist the pleasure of successfully defiling the girl, and he lay his whole body on top of her,

thrusting his hips forcefully.

"Let Daddy fuck you to death...fuck you to death...daughter's cunt is too tight...ah...ha..."

The girl's breasts swayed with each thrust, a layer of crystal-clear

sweat floating on her snow-white skin, creating a strong contrast with the dark, hard body behind her. Rayleigh roared twice, then

lay his whole body on top of the girl. The girl couldn't bear the weight, and the two of them lay directly on the ground like that. Rayleigh

's hips were still twitching slightly from inertia, seemingly firing his cannon at the girl's tender cunt, while the girl

trembled continuously, this attack clearly sending her to orgasm.

The entire venue reeked of obscenity. Some villagers with families were already engaged in sexual activity with

their masturbating.

I glanced at Anya, her face flushed, her legs tightly pressed together, seemingly trembling. My own penis

was already painfully erect, but I was too embarrassed to speak to her, so I continued watching the arena. The host patted

the girl who was sucking his penis, signaling her to move aside, zipped up his pants, and stood up.

"What a wonderful performance! Let's move on to the next match!"

The audience had no choice but to stop their "activities. "

The following matches didn't involve any girls as bets, as the F-level matches were mostly minor skirmishes.

It seemed the first match was deliberately arranged by the organizers to attract viewers. However, the audience could still witness

a fierce battle rarely seen before. But in my opinion, the F-level participants were limited in number, mostly just

bandits and mercenaries trying to make some quick money. The duel continued until nightfall. It seemed Craig was the only unfortunate

victim ; after all, no one else would risk their life for such a small sum. He was simply unlucky to be placed in the first

match by the organizers.

Outside the arena, Anya seemed to be wavering in her decision; her unease was written all over her face. The two remained

silent , ate a quick meal at the tavern, and then returned to the inn. The tavern owner was still immersed in grief; when we arrived,

he was numbing himself with alcohol.

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