Black sail

Chapter 666 XLVI. Group Stage

“Every year during the halftime show, a suspended platform descends, with a structure similar to the Sky Hotel in Dugris, to serve as the stage.”

The vice-captain of the Wind Radiance Adventure Team was more interested in the performance later than the contestants' battles. He had invited a lot of big names. The Alan Palace invited only the highest-ranking celebrities, there was no such thing as a second-tier celebrity. He would even get to see the legendary woman! He had recorded a video in front of her newspaper brochure, and it was not shameful to say that!

"Oh, I know."

Garen thought of the Cloud Palace. These things were slow and had no strategic value; they could only be used in other situations. "That makes sense. With that kind of platform, logistics would be much simpler. Those big shots can't just run around the training grounds. Land and fly away again?"

"No, after the performance, all the artists leave at the same time, and the championship battle will be fought on the platform."

"Wouldn't those monsters be completely wiped out by this attack?"

"It seems like it was designed for one-time use, fitting into the arena terrain, just waiting to be ruined tonight."

"That's outrageously extravagant!"

Garen couldn't possibly imagine how many gold dragons those magical industrial heavy machines would cost. In any case, it was an astronomical figure, but it was nothing to the Aran Treasury. Compared to the rake from all the betting games during the Continental Martial Arts Tournament, it was just a drop in the ocean.

Garen didn't give Glen any advice tonight; the girl currently has over 70,000 gold dragons.

Garen followed Lister's instructions and told Glenn a lot about the East Sea. The herbal poisonous herbs he obtained from the Mirror Sea were just basic operations for murder and arson. If he really wanted to list the crimes, he would not give a list, but a catalog.

Even though Lister was a heinous murderer, Dalinge was no better. At midday, they were silent, and neither of them had a home.

There are many theories about the cause of Dawlinger's death, but the general consensus is that Lister used various despicable means, including poisoning, to achieve victory through overwhelming odds.

The main reason is that Lisiter's reputation as an OG in the Northern Prison is too terrifying. He's considered a mafia god, which has caused dissatisfaction among many underworld figures, who want to smear his name.

Glenn also learned the true cause of Dolinger's death: he was dragged to his death by Lister.

"So let's go home. The day I met you, those men in black who were looking for you must have been frantic. Just like I said at the beginning, treat it as a dream. Money won through gambling will only be lost through gambling again, because it's not a spoils of hard work, but just a game of musical chairs in the abyss of desire."

Garen said this.

Glenn was conflicted. She knew all too well that her father was that kind of person, but she couldn't make a decision. Faced with the longing for someone she had never met, even the truth had to give way.

"That's what I think too, but... I don't want all my previous efforts to be wasted. I just want to truly begin and let time flow, instead of getting stuck here forever and only having regrets later. So let's leave it to fate."

"Let fate decide?"

"Yes, there was no way out. I didn't keep a single copper coin. I had no choice but to accept the loss. Before placing the bet, I consulted a fortune teller, and it came true. So this is the will of the Holy Spirit of Storms and Waves."

Glenn has only bet on one person. According to the current odds, 400,000 is out of the question, but 200,000 is enough.

Although Garen had become somewhat desensitized to Glenn's madness, he was still slightly surprised at this moment.

With Garen's current 10% commission, even if she bets one-tenth of the amount, it would be enough to buy a considerable official position in Aran, starting as a lord of a wealthy town, or at least an earl.

Garen just chuckled. He'd completely lost his sense of money. If she lost it all, he'd just return the commission; it wasn't his anyway.

He didn't ask Glenn who she had bet on, but he could sense that she no longer had the initial excitement of betting big, and was only calmly silent. She was really a little adult.

So... whether Lister should die is up to the Holy Spirit of Storms and Waves to decide.

The first group stage match has begun. The battle between Divine Sword Dragon and Clement, who was exiled from the Abyss, has commenced, and prominent figures in the Aran military, including even the Second Prince Phoenix, are in attendance.

The other athletes don't need to stay in the backstage lounge today; they have special seats arranged at the edge of the training field.

Louis breathed a sigh of relief; it was truly the luckiest group he'd ever been drawn against! His opponents were White Star and JF-17, both good-natured men, and Clement, a convict. Neither of them were psychopaths who liked to kill. If he made it to the top sixteen, he could just settle for a minor official position. He didn't even know what it took to get first place.

The night of the final.

The place was bustling with noise, and was watched by prominent families, high-ranking military officials, and even royalty.

As someone who rose through the ranks in a flash, his swordsmanship and sword techniques can only be described as exaggerated; they are not human, but rather bursts of sharpness.

The weapons used in the duel were all standard-issue, but the sword in his hand was like a peerless divine weapon.

Amidst the dazzling sword dance and the swirling stars, a sharp sword light suddenly emanated, unparalleled in its brilliance. Before one move was even finished, another arrived, sparks flying like a waterfall. Clement, also wielding a sword, repeatedly blocked, yet found himself unable to retaliate.

Clement spun around and flew back eight feet.

The blood was still warm, but the sword was already sheathed.

Click...

Clement had a gash on his face, splattering blood, but it was just a scratch; JF-17 had clearly held back.

“That’s enough. You’ve fought your way up from the Great Northern Prison and cleared your name. There’s no need to continue. I have more important reasons.”

Xiaolong's face was calm. If he wasn't the champion, then this martial arts tournament would be meaningless. He only wanted to end the legend of the Sword King.

As is customary, some past champions also came to the event. Indeed, several did come, but the most important figure was nowhere to be found among the JF-17 fighters.

I just hope his chief disciple Valentina can make it through the group stage and let him see the Sword King's strength.

“I know about this…”

Clement clenched his fist lightly, feeling the power within. Having been imprisoned in the Northern Great Prison for so long, he hadn't been able to hone his skills for years, and his physical condition was far from what it used to be. "I'm just really annoyed by your smug expression. Stop holding back and show me your true abilities!"

Clement's eyes narrowed.

The rules of the Continental Martial Arts Tournament are that no weapons, protective gear, or arcane items can be brought into the arena. Only standard equipment can be used, and one person must enter alone to comply with the rules.

He was called the Abyss Exile not because he was a convict, but because that title had been used for many years.

Clement threw his sword down with a loud thud, and it clattered to the ground.

"Huh?"

The JF-17 was quite interested.

"The method I practice allows me to integrate the power of magical beasts into myself."

Clement stopped acting and transformed into a ferocious beast.

(End of this chapter)