People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

With heartfelt sincerity and exhaustive words, from beginning to end, he perfectly presented every detail of the match to all the viewers who were looking forward to it!

"Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon!"

"I'm your old friend, Big Mouth Mooooooo! Welcome to the semi-final match. Now, pick up your devices, scan the QR codes on the tables and chairs. Do I need to tell you how? Yes! Start betting!"

"The legendary Letanian warlock, the mysterious Originium Domain professor who lives in seclusion in the city, from the shocking defeat of the Blood Knight at the beginning of the competition, to now, only anyone who can defeat him can be called an upset! Yes, Fremont, Lord of the Tower! Fremont, the reincarnation of the Witch King! Fremont, looking down on all living beings, declares, you are the challenger!"

Accompanied by Mob's impassioned voice, a powerful melody began to play.

It was a hymn composed by a blend of Casimir's passionate and surging style and Letania's grand and majestic arias!

And the lyrics and music correspond perfectly with Big Mouth Mob's narration:

Fremont, master of the tower! Fremont, king of warlocks! Fremont, overlooking all living beings! Who will be the next challenger?!

Who will be the next challenger?

As Fremont's melody reached its climax, the lich's figure slowly rose from beneath the arena.

Still dressed in that somber and rigid outfit, still with that indifferent yet somewhat frivolous expression, Fremont listened quietly to the song praising him, his expression clearly displeased.

Lord of the Tower? King of Warlocks? Reincarnation of the Witch King? Overlooking all living beings?

The Kazimir people are really something...

Do you think that these exaggerated lyrics and song lyrics are praising me?

No! How can stating facts be considered praise? How can a contrary evaluation please Fremont?

Me, a Witch King? Hmph! The Witch King is like me!

The drone flew up to Fremont, its camera reflecting his half-closed eyes and disdainful expression. A voice from the Business Federation's control center came through the in-ear monitor:

"Mr. Fremont, would you like to say a few words to warm up the atmosphere?"

Want to say a few words?

Fremont slightly opened his eyes, looked at the camera in front of him, and a sarcastic smile appeared on his lips.

"Ah!"

A soft chuckle escaped from the corner of his mouth, which was already the best opening line!

The venue erupted in cheers, a powerful chorus of sounds, grand hymns, and the crowd's shouts blending together, making one's chest and eardrums vibrate simultaneously. Even Ernst felt a surge of emotion.

The next moment, as the hymn suddenly ended, all the large screens, lights, and sound systems in the venue simultaneously pieced together the last three lines of the lyrics in every possible way:

Who is the challenger?

Who is the challenger?

"Who is the challenger!"

Mob's voice followed up the last question, ringing out again:

"Liboli, who considers himself a mortal, has achieved a three-stage transformation! Steel, ice, and elemental attributes explode! The moment you raised your hand and unleashed that giant bird intertwined with ice and iron, how many Liboli screamed in terror, and how many wept in anguish! Guess who called you, the Corsican I of the new era! The supreme, knightly emperor!"

"Jesston—! Williams!"

"A storm is approaching, the wind is biting, and an emperor will return like lightning!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the blowers on site started instantly, blowing out the artificial snowflakes that had been prepared in advance, and the air conditioning was turned up to the maximum, with a biting cold wind sweeping across the field!

"Boom!"

A thunderous roar erupted from the speakers, as if lightning had truly struck the Pegasus Arena. The lights in the entire arena went out in an instant, plunging everything into darkness. Only the spotlights remained, illuminating the slowly rising figure, his back to the crowd, seated on his throne.

Jeston Williams.

His head was covered in sweat.

What the heck is this?! You guys didn't tell me our planned entrance was going to be this cool and edgy!

While he is indeed very handsome, but... Corsican I of the new era... the supreme emperor of knightly arena... are you sure you're talking about me?

Thanks to Ernst, Jeston also read quite a few books. Of course, even without reading, everyone on Terra who wasn't a dropout from prenatal education should know who Corsica I was.

After all, the war that laid the foundation for the current world order on Terra is not that long ago. And the legendary Liberian emperor and his country are indeed frequent subjects in various literary novels and classic textbooks.

But it was precisely because he knew that history that Jesston couldn't help but ask, "What kind of hellish joke is this?"

Corsica I launched an attack on Letania, whose emperor at the time was the Witch King Herhunzoron. The war escalated, eventually becoming the War of the Four Kingdoms, which involved Gaul, Letania, Ursus, and Victoria, affecting hundreds of millions of people and marking a significant chapter in Terran's modern warfare.

The outcome of that war can be understood by looking at a map.

You say I am Corsica I, and you also say Fremont, what are you implying?

Jeston felt immense pressure.

He was fairly aware of his own abilities. He might be evenly matched with someone like the Candle Knight. Against the Blood Knight, he'd be slightly outmatched. And Fremont, on the other hand, annihilated the Blood Knight!

What can I use to fight?

Jeston let out a long sigh.

He now somewhat understood how the Left-Handed Knight felt when he withdrew from the match. Facing a game that seemed hopeless, one that might even result in a crushing defeat that would squander all the reputation he had worked so hard to build, it was indeed difficult to muster any fighting spirit.

But he had no choice.

Lord Ernst is in the audience, and the great god Jeragund may be in the sky. How can he back down?

"war!"

A determined look appeared in Jeston's eyes, and at that moment, the drone that flew in front of him happened to give him a close-up shot that left a deep impression.

"Fight!" "Fight!" "Fight!"

The cheers of the audience overlapped with Jesston's voice, and the word "war" rang out rhythmically, as if a brand new battle song had officially begun!

If you ask who the challenger is? Well, the challenger is me!

Corsican I of the new era versus the Witch King of the new era.

At this moment, only war!

Mob's voice rang out again, and the background music switched back to the Kazimierz-style commentary theme. He proudly announced:

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me once again congratulate you on having the opportunity to come to the Pegasus Stadium to watch this semi-final match."

The theme of this semi-final is—Four-Nation War!

"First match: [Gallic] Jeston Williams vs. [Laetagna] Fremont!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, have you finished placing your bets? Let's witness it together!"

"Witness history, witness history repeating itself! Witness historical breakthroughs! Witness the arrival of a new era!"

Chapter 438 Giving Fremont an Eye

Ernst had never been very supportive of the Kazimierz people's behavior.

The Four Nations War was a far-reaching conflict for all of Terra. Its intensity, the number of people mobilized, the equipment deployed, the participating nations, and its subsequent impact all marked the beginning of a new era. It signified that Terran civilization had finally moved beyond a situation where advanced combat forces were stagnating, with the same few people and nothing changing, and entered a new phase.

Even today, many Terran historians still claim that Terran's modern history originated from the Four Kingdoms War. A mature Terran historian is only qualified to be called a historian if they have thoroughly studied the ins and outs of the Four Kingdoms War and the conflicts of interest.

This is why movies, TV series, novels, historical anecdotes, and other works on the theme of the Four Kingdoms War have always been popular and enduring products on the market.

But no matter what, war is always cruel.

While capital is gradually deconstructing war, films and television series still ultimately have to respect some aspects of history. The Kasimir people, however, have clearly gone further and more radically down this path of deconstruction.

Ernst didn't know which expert in the Business Federation was so brilliant that he could come up with the idea of ​​having a Liberian of Colombian descent, now living in Sheraco, represent "Gaul," just because the main ethnic group of Gaul was Liberians, and Corsica I was also a Liberian.

No, bro, isn't this meal replacement a bit too much? Ernst thinks that guy probably has a lot in common with Holheimia.

After all, a large part of the reason why Horhaia is still remembered by the great god Yeragand is because of her outrageous remarks in the Temple of the Holy Records.

However, to be fair, Ernst thinks that the commentator named Mob and his commentary are quite good.

Whether it's engaging the audience's emotions or controlling the pace of the commentary, his skills are top-notch, far superior to Enciodes'.

Hmm? Why are you mentioning Ensiodis?

Oh, that's because Mr. Ensiodis couldn't find a commentator for the competition due to the lack of available commentators at the Karan Trade Center, so he had to hold the microphone and go on stage himself to commentate at the first Beast Carrying Competition. The scene was...tsk tsk tsk.

Ernst even recorded that part, and later when he went to Manjushri College to pray, he played it for Eun-ya as well. It was hilarious.

As for why it wasn't made public, turning the secret into a shared secret... well, that's because he and Ensiodis achieved a nuclear deterrent, with both sides having dirt on each other, so that both could keep each other at ease.

"Boss, do you think Jesston will win?"

Hinterlea asked with some concern.

At this moment, the match had officially begun, and the atmosphere on the field had become very tense.

As always, Fremont was not a card player and did not like to take the initiative, which gave Jeston a very valuable opportunity to attack.

Having received blessings from three deities, Jeston, though no longer possessing the power to overturn the world with a mere gesture, is now among those who have "seen the view from the peak."

For him now, the spells he used before were too outdated. Not only did he lack skill and waste energy, but he also struggled to be proficient in offense, defense, and speed, resulting in a complete mess in every aspect.

Now, his manipulation of magic has changed a lot. The steel spikes that used to be all bark and no bite have transformed into two small but extremely strong knuckle dusters in his hands. And the magical iron shells that should have been attached to his limbs have now become rings of shields surrounding him.

He took a swift step forward, rushing towards Fremont. The already short distance was now but a mere blink of an eye for him. The next second, before even the camera could turn around, Jeston was already above Fremont.

Steel supported Li Boli's body, keeping him suspended, but his real attack came from underground.

Make a sound in the east and attack in the west!

"boom--"

An explosion rang out on the stage. The floor, which had just been repaired, shattered again in an instant, and a gigantic, jet-black crystal cluster, resembling an Originium crystal cluster, pierced through the ground and stabbed straight into Fremont's back door, attempting to give Fremont a good stab in the ass—opening a huge eye.

But Fremont remained calm. He twirled his staff; the lich's knowledge contained countless countermeasures against such spells, which he knew by heart. Moreover, Jeston was slow; he wouldn't even need to use a spell. He could simply use "Get out of the way!" to easily dodge the attack, then confidently type "EZ (easy)" in the public chat, "Apprentice!"

But he didn't do that.

Not only did he not do that, he didn't do anything at all!

The towering steel spike pierced Fremont's body in an instant, but it was too late; Fremont's figure had already slowly disappeared.

Then, Fremont, clutching his chest, slowly appeared some distance behind Jeston, his face full of surprise:

"You were fast?"

Jeston was stunned.

What do you mean I was so fast? A man shouldn't say he's fast!

*Ahem*, of course I know you didn't mean that, but Jeston privately believes he's indeed not as good as those truly strong fighters. He's probably only barely stronger than the Blood Knight. That last move was just a probing attack, testing Fremont's defense and reaction, trying to find one or two "real weaknesses" in him.

Unfortunately he failed.

He couldn't discern what tricks the mysterious Sarkaz old man had up his sleeve, nor could he see what maneuver he was employing. He randomly picked a spot that looked like an opening, and was rather skillful and insidious, and... judging by his reaction... he hit it?

But, how is this possible?

Fremont's strength is undeniable. How does Viviana's Originium Arts compare to Jeston's? Her shadow magic is far more mysterious and unpredictable than Jeston's iron spikes. Yet, Viviana didn't even touch Fremont, while Fremont was hit by his own attacks.

Am I really that strong?

No, no, no, that's not right, Jeston, don't get cocky. You're just a dog who picks up scraps from others. Your achievements today are all thanks to Prime Minister Ernst's cultivation and the blessing of the great god Jeragund.

He silently warned himself. Jeston looked worriedly at Fremont not far away.

Fremont was somewhat confused.

Wait a minute, Jeston hit me! You guys should be cheering, right? Why are you all making such weird faces? Is there something wrong with me? Or is my acting not up to par?

Fremont couldn't help but recall what had just happened.

He deliberately let Jeston score. The reason is simple: he was throwing the match.

Jeston is Ernst's man. Ernst is the prime minister of Sherag, supports the establishment of the Sarkaz, and now has a certain influence in the region. Fremont hopes he will win.

If he goes all out, unless Jeston can summon a third transformation, no one should be his match. But just as Ernst warned Jeston, he cannot win either.

The ostentatious sheep could not tolerate them, and the liches were about to have to leave Letania. The reason why Fremont was able to get the Letania Queen's permission for this trip was because he was leaving a way out for himself and the lich race with the Queen's tacit approval.

As his creations, the flamboyant sheep and the gloomy sheep are artificial life forms. How could they not know his identity? Why would they send a lich to participate in the games? Are they crazy?

The answer is, of course, no. They simply accepted Fremont's proposal—Theresis (of the Kazdel Military Council) knows I'm here and harasses me with letters every day, which isn't good for Letania's position, so I need to leave to avoid trouble. If you don't want me to cause you trouble, you'd better agree to this proposal. Of course, I'm not threatening you; this is a deal. In return, I'll learn from your excellent character during this World's Games, choose a suitable place, and leave with the Lich King's Court, never to set foot on Letania's soil again. How about it?

What else can be done? While the twin queens, specialized in fighting the Lich King, are powerful, there's no need for them to attack the Lich King of Letania without a good reason. Besides, isn't this proposal quite good?

The Lich King's Court will leave, Theresis's letters will be sent elsewhere, Letania can prove that she has nothing to do with Lontinim, and from now on, there is no need to worry about anyone in the country being able to hinder her.