Tiber did not react to any of their taunts. He closed his ears to them. Why should he care about what they say when they are not the ones down there fighting?
The only words he could care about were if Atrox said something from up there or Slya. But for the rest?
He simply stood there, hands folded in front of his chest and the sun shining on him, watching the door at the other end to open.
After a few seconds, it opened.
The crowd's reaction was instant. They began to shout and call out his name.
Cross! Cross! Cross!
Only a very few of them scowled and booed, and that was not even directly at Tiber. He was not the person they initially bet on, after all, but now they had no choice but to hope for a miracle that would allow Tiber to win.
Cross was a fighter with proven records. He did not fight often, but anytime he did, he completely overwhelmed his opponent. They had never seen him go all out.
