People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

The scene of the last match between Grand Judge Dario and Colombian representative Toby is still fresh in our minds, and the fate of Colombian representative Toby is even more vivid in our memories. The lessons of history are still fresh!

Dario's single shot could have charred Toby to death. Even with Terra's miraculous Originium Arts healing techniques, coupled with the nation's unwavering medical resources, he's still not out of the intensive care unit, and who knows if he'll be pulled out with a hood over his head or not. Isn't that terrifying enough?

How does Titus White compare to Toby?

Left-handed Guy said he didn't know, because Toby was killed before he even had a chance to make a move. He could only confirm that Toby was much weaker than Dalio, but he had no idea how much of a difference Toby had or how he compared to Dalio.

But comparing Jeston to Dalio is straightforward. One left a scorched mark on the reinforced arena with a single hand cannon shot, but didn't cause significant damage—the Business Federation certainly invested heavily; that shot could have destroyed at least a street, but it didn't damage the arena.

And what about Jeston?

The Ice Iron Bird caused the Pegasus Arena to be rebuilt in just a few days. It also caused the tournament date to be postponed, and the aftershocks alone affected tens of thousands of spectators!

What else is there to say?

With a physique that might be slightly stronger than Toby's, how could he possibly fight against Jesston, who was far superior to Dario? Was he going to fight with his life on the line?

Titus Bai Yang took a gamble, reaching the semifinals of the Special Championship, hoping to achieve a good ranking at the World Series. What was he after? He wanted to achieve fame and success, bring glory to his family, completely shed his status as a goalkeeper in the tournament, and enjoy the treatment of a champion.

He wanted to be knighted with a single word, not to be posthumously knighted!

Even if you have a lot of money, you still need to be alive to enjoy it!

Withdrawal is mandatory.

Titus Bai Yang said, "I qualified through the regular means as a semi-finalist in the Special Championship. I am an individual participant and I do not represent any power. Now that my body is more sensible and the weather is nice, I have to withdraw from the competition because I am sick. No one will blame me. What's wrong with that?"

When I return to my warm Major stage, I will still have the honorary title of "Advanced to the Second Round of the World Championship", which has already surpassed Blood Knight!

You laugh at the left hand for being timid, the left hand laughs at you for not reaping enough.

Jesston was somewhat dazed when he received the news.

He put down the terminal, turned his head, and looked at the only remaining statue of the great god Yeragand in the room, which had been reorganized after Ernst's instruction, and seemed somewhat lost in thought.

Suddenly, a smile he couldn't hide appeared on his lips.

Hey, see? The great god Byelagand really is useful, isn't he?

Unable to resist, he stepped forward again, lit an incense stick for the statue of the great god Jeragund, poured some red wine, performed a Lateran prayer, and finally clasped his hands together, shouting, "Gangmen!" Only then did Jesston nod with satisfaction, push open the door, and tell Ernst the good news.

Ernst was both amused and exasperated upon hearing the news.

He didn't know what the situation was like with the Left-Handed Knight. After learning that Jeston would be facing him, Ernst spent some time checking the Left-Handed Knight's record and the match videos published on the intercity network. This guy was indeed quite skilled. If he really fought Jeston, it was hard to say who would win if the great god Yeragand didn't intervene.

After all, Jeston didn't have that expensive set of custom armor and equipment.

Too expensive. After inquiring about the price from Swire, Ernst gave up on the idea of ​​buying a set.

But he didn't do nothing either. In order to help Jeston, after learning about the Left-Handed Knight's achievements, he shamelessly approached Ensiodes and then found the mace through Ensiodes.

The reason is simple: maces have more experience in this area.

The title of "Left-Handed Knight Tournament Goalkeeper" was largely due to his mace.

Well, he had already arranged for Jian to give Jeston some special training so that Jeston would have some "experience" when the fight started tomorrow. But who knew that he would win before the fight even started?

Are we still going to Na Jian's place?

Ernst thought about it for a moment, and then decided he still had to go.

I've already sold my face, if Jeston doesn't get a beating... cough cough cough, if he doesn't get some special training, then what's the point of selling my face?

Jeston, on the other hand, was devastated upon hearing Ernst's arrangement... no, he was overjoyed.

"What, I have to fight the mace again?"

This wasn't the first time Jeston had clashed with Mace; he had also been invited by Mace to "spar" in Sherag.

To be honest, it wasn't a good experience; the snow didn't taste good.

But Ernst's attitude was firm:

"It's to train you. Left-handed Knight is sick, but what about the next match? Who knows, you might be fighting Mr. Dario or Mr. Marner? Training and gaining more experience won't hurt you."

At the same time, he didn't forget to comfort Jeston.

"Don't worry, I've already asked Jian to hold back a bit, he won't hit too hard."

Without giving Jeston a chance to refuse, Ernst finalized the deal.

However, there was one other thing that Ernst was quite concerned about.

Now that Jeston has advanced, who will replace him in tomorrow's match?

Driven by economic interests, the Business Federation and the Supervisory Committee will certainly not leave the arena empty; two more players will definitely be selected to compete tomorrow. Moreover, these two will undoubtedly generate considerable buzz, fitting the Business Federation's build-up of suspense—a Major Championship qualifier versus a foreign underdog representative!

Are the players who qualified for the Special Championship included, along with any dark horses from abroad?

Ernst had already figured it out. He took out his terminal, and before he could even open the website to check the schedule, he saw, as expected, that the poster for tomorrow's game had already been published on the Intercity Network homepage.

[Viviana Drost, the Candle Knight, vs. Fremont, the representative of Letania]

The Battle of Letania: The Radiance of Originium Arts!

Chapter 428 Lich: The story of Kal'tsit's "ho" should be told to Theresis

Viviana Droste.

When Fremont first met this girl, he felt that she was somewhat familiar.

Liches have always had excellent memories. They have to memorize countless ancient texts, complex magical structures, and all kinds of affairs, both within and outside their own tribe, while also keeping track of the movements of the two countries of Letania and Kazdel. How could their memory be anything but good?

If they say, "Oh, I forgot about that," it's 100% an excuse, just to fool a child. They're just too lazy to think about it.

For them, memory is like an archive. As long as there is a record, they can definitely find it if they want to. As for those who don't want to look it up... they don't even want to look it up. Haven't you already gotten the answer to your question?

This matter is unimportant, you are unimportant, it's all pointless now, just choose one yourself.

The same applies to Viviana.

Fremont was somewhat impressed with her when he first watched her compete from the stands at the arena. But afterwards, his attention was drawn to Ernst, who was "sultry and needs no further explanation," and he naturally didn't pay much attention to Viviana's matter.

Later, although he remembered that this person looked somewhat similar to Shi Tongling, the Grand Election Marquis, he didn't pay much attention to it.

What does a mere elector's daughter mean to him?

There were only a handful of Originium Wizards in the world who could catch his eye, and the only person he could call a friend was the Witch King Helhunzoren. After that person died, Fremont stopped paying attention to the political situation in Letania.

Let alone a mere Elector, even the Twin Queens, whose artificial beings he created using Gaulish magic and Sarkaz sorcery to target the Witch King, were not even given a second glance after completing their mission.

"Little lambs," Fremont has always called them.

Some might ask, Fremont, didn't you do anything when the Witch King was still alive? It's not much different from now.

That's wrong. Fremont was quite active while the Witch King was alive.

He was present when the Witch King revised the Golden Melody, and he also gave the Witch King his initial command during the exploration of the wasteland. Their discussions on Originium Arts and even Originium itself were countless. It can be said that Fremont was not only Helhunzoren's friend but also his teacher. The Witch King received considerable help from Fremont on his path to becoming the King of Originium Arts.

He only refrained from holding public office due to his Sarkaz status, which is fundamentally different from his current situation where he doesn't care about anything and lives as an honorary mute professor at Ludwig University.

For this reason, Fremont often lamented:

"How could this young man I watched grow up go insane in the end?"

Of course, if you were to ask him now how it felt to have created the "tool" that killed his proudest student and friend, and whether he regretted it now, he would most likely give you a long-winded answer, saying things like, "I have absolutely no regrets!" "He was killed by my magical creation; it just means he was less skilled, which only proves that my magic is stronger." "Regret? He should be the one regretting not coming to me for so long! I surpassed him long ago!" and so on. He would definitely go on and on about it.

But few people can truly know what Fremont is really thinking.

Perhaps he also wants to see his friend one more time, who knows?

"I never expected to fight this guy."

Listening to Emengard's introduction, Fremont was slightly moved.

The Shi brothers were also a pair of unfortunate souls. The elder brother was supposed to be the heir to the throne, but during the battle to raid the Witch King's Tower, a nobleman foolishly led the charge and ultimately died under the fierce protection and defenses of the Witch King's Tower.

As for his younger brother, to be honest, Fremont didn't think he was a qualified successor to the Electorate.

Compared to his overly strong-willed brother, he was far too submissive. He hadn't received any formal education as an heir, and should have been enjoying the riches and honors of an ordinary nobleman, but was suddenly thrust into that position…

Fremont did not participate in the power transition of the Elector of Ston, but as the Lord of the Royal Court, he also transcribed the reports from the liches who were responsible for monitoring all over Letania on the Elector of Ston's performance during his accession to the throne.

Dejected, depressed, at a loss, and feeling lost.

Who would have thought that such an elector who "did not look like a ruler" would maintain peace and stability in Shitong territory for decades to come, and be worthy of being called "not bad"?

"However, it seems that guy doesn't have many years left to live."

Fremont sighed silently to himself, then looked at Emengard:

"What are you doing back here? Didn't I send you to follow Ernst?"

"Clan leader, how can you bear to send away your beloved disciple?"

Emengard feigned a bit of coquetry, but instead of his teacher's gentle comfort, he was met with a bolt of blue lightning.

"Snapped!"

A moment later, his attempt to straighten his afro failed, and Emengard looked at Fremont with a mournful face and a pitiful expression.

Fremont gave the little lich a disdainful look and curled his lip:

"That's disgusting! Who told you to do that? You deserve it!"

Emengard pouted, looking somewhat aggrieved:

"The people of Kazimierz all say this method works well, and it's sure to please men, so I learned it. Chieftain, you said we should be good at learning, right?"

"Could it be that you, Chieftain, are not a male lich?"

"Get out! You only learn bad things and never good ones! I sent you to Sherag to observe the Balrogs, not to fawn over men!"

Seeing that Fremont was about to raise his hand to show Emengard what a master of magic was like, Emengard finally backed down and waved his hands repeatedly.

"Just kidding."

Fremont's expression softened slightly, then Emengard spoke again:

"Moreover, these two things are not contradictory, and there may even be a causal relationship between them."

Fremont's face darkened. He said nothing, reached out, and pulled out a ball of yarn.

Emengard shuddered, his voice sharpening.

"No, no, clan leader, there's no need, there really is no need."

"I...I have important information! I've come back with important information!"

Fremont paused slightly in his fiddling with the yarn, then looked at Emengard, his tone unfriendly:

"What do you mean?"

Emengard couldn't wait to speak:

"Chief, you'll never guess who I found out on Ernst's side!"

"Who?"

"Guess... Awooooo!"

Fremont loosened his grip on the lifeline that had been tampered with, then looked at Emengard, who was now slumped on the ground, completely disoriented.

"You already said I can't guess, and you still want me to guess? What? Do you want to embarrass your teacher? You've spoiled your little brat!"

"Stop pretending, stand up straight, and tell me, who did you see?"

Emengard pouted, tears welling in his eyes, and glared at Fremont with a wronged expression. Not daring to make the glare too obvious, he could only mutter:

"I saw Ascalon."

"Speak louder! That's not powerful! Is this how you give a report to the teacher?!" Fremont roared.

Emengard was startled and instinctively raised his voice:

"Look, I see Ascarine! And Kal'tsit!"

"Ascaren, and Kal'tsit?"

Fremont raised an eyebrow.

These two names do seem familiar.

There was no need to search through the memory archives; Fremont immediately recalled the last time he saw these two people.

How could he not know these two people?