Today on the platform, there was something different than before - a long table. Before the match, the audience had heard that this match would involve some gimmicks, with alchemists from the three major southern nations participating, and the table displayed the creations of these three alchemists.
The host exclaimed, "Now, both players, please select your equipment."
Billmond didn't dare to compete with the third prince, instead, he made a submissive gesture. The third prince, with a strange grin in his eyes, briefly hesitated before walking ahead.
On Billmond's equipment, there was still that rather peculiar Tai Chi emblem, which was his symbol.
The third prince had known this already and chose Billmond's equipment without any hesitation.
Seeing that the prince didn't even compare and directly picked up a pair of ordinary-looking gloves, a buzz of discussion arose below.
After the third prince had selected his equipment, Billmond took his turn to come up. In truth, the selection should have been done mutually by both players for fairness, but Billmond's past experience had taught him not to offend the third prince. He was just a small figure, and he would be fine as long as he did what he should do.
He chose an equipment marked with the symbol of an Iron Hand: a small shield installed on the armor.
Three alchemy judges, dressed in royal robes, sat behind a table. Coincidentally standing not far behind them were Shala and her attendant.
Upon seeing Billmond's choice of the emblem, the attendant exclaimed excitedly, "Princess, that's Master Lorent's work!" Shala, however, did not seem as excited and simply responded with a nonchalant "Hmm."
Shala had observed the third prince's behavior and found it rather strange. Why did he not compare the selections and just directly choose the works? There must be some hidden reason behind it. A trace of unease crossed Shala's mind, but when she looked at the three judges in front, her unease quickly dissipated. After all, the Marius Duchy had already sided with the third prince. Fortunately, she had been prepared for this.
Ge Zheng wanted to leave temporarily to cheer for Demond, but as a participant, the rules prohibited him from doing so. Instead, he reluctantly stood at the side. Miss Feifei gently tugged his sleeve, "Teacher, look." She pointed to Shala, who was glaring at them.
"Teacher, I'm afraid this match won't be fair," Feifei said with some concern.
Ge Zheng waved his hand, "Don't overthink it." He cast his gaze onto the stage. He recognized the rather inconspicuous black-brown shoulder armor resting on the broad, sturdy shoulders of the third prince's mount, the Burst Flame Tiger. It was a magical beast equipment he had personally crafted.
On the stage, the host bellowed, "The match begins!" and hurriedly jumped down from the platform.
"Clang!" - A dragon's roar. The third prince wielded a long sword shaped like the wings of a demon, stretching seven feet long from handle to tip, even taller than the prince himself.
Afterward, Billmond seemed far less imposing. At that moment, the eighth-level warrior, who was only aiming to earn the last twenty thousand gold coins to take back home, mounted the rather stout Red Haoh and assumed a defensive stance.
"Hey!" The third prince shouted, and as he spurred the hind leg of the Burst Flame Tiger, they charged fiercely towards Red Haoh at a high speed.
Just earlier, the third prince had tried out the gloves. Though the sword in his hand weighed 350 pounds, under normal circumstances, he would struggle to wield it single-handedly. However, wearing the gloves today made it appear quite effortless. The third prince was secretly delighted: it appeared he had indeed made the right choice. The foolish pigs below wouldn't figure out the mystery!
The third prince looked at the purple fighting spirit emanating from his body, a sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth. The demon-winged long knife turned over, and he reversed his grip on the knife, thrusting it out like a knight's spear.
Accompanying this thrust, he clearly felt a surge of strength coming from the gloves. The third prince couldn't help but glance at Ge Zheng below, making up his mind: If this person cannot be used by me, he must be eliminated!
With a loud bang, Biermondo was knocked back, and he rolled on the ground, circling around, and then darted under the flaming tiger.
"Die!" Biermondo roared, and a dense purple light burst suddenly from the arm holding the giant sword. The sword slashed from bottom to top, intending to slash the flaming tiger's abdomen!
With another loud bang, a dazzling rainbow of light arrogantly overwhelmed his purple fighting spirit. The anticipated scene of the tiger drenched in blood did not occur. Biermondo's hands and sword broke with a loud crack, the upper half flying out of the ring, causing chaos among the people, while the lower half remained in Biermondo's dumbfounded hands.
The third prince sat on the back of a mount, high above, while Biermondo lay at the foot of the mount. The afternoon sun happened to shine through the edge of the third prince's raised demon-winged long knife, reflected in Biermondo's eyes, creating a dazzling and dazzling sight!
"Hey!" A rainbow of light fell like a falling rainbow, and the demon-winged long knife descended. Biermondo instinctively rolled on the ground to avoid the frontal attack of the blade.
But the third prince's technique had reached a state of flexibility and control. When the strike was halfway through, it suddenly turned, striking horizontally at Biermondo.
Biermondo had just rolled out about thirty meters when the rainbow light pursued him. He lifted the broken sword in his hand, shouted, and swung it upwards with both hands.
"Ping..." A shower of silver sparks glittered in the sky, reflecting the sunlight, which was quite beautiful. Biermondo's broken sword was shattered completely this time, and he spat out blood, retreating. The third prince's demon-winged long knife was still in full force. The blade's light shimmered, like a venomous snake targeting its prey's throat!
"Crack!" Biermondo raised his hand, and the additional small shield on his left arm saved his life. Although the shield was also shattered by the blow, it managed to stop the demon-winged long knife.
Biermondo had already been thrown out of the arena, and the crowd made way, creating a clear space. With a muffled sound, Biermondo fell to the ground. He struggled to stand up again, his chest and abdomen squirming. Despite his efforts to hold back, blood kept oozing from the corner of his mouth. His left hand was shaking incessantly, uncontrollable—the ten-grade fighting spirit had destroyed the blood vessels and muscles in his arm. This arm was now useless.
Ge Zheng's face looked very unpleasant. The third prince's ruthlessness made him feel guilty for his participation. The beast's shoulder armor and the enhanced power gloves were all instruments of death wrought by the third prince!
He suddenly shook in realization: Why did the third prince choose his work without even looking at it? Is it possible that he knows that the beast's shoulder armor was made by me? That's the only possibility...
In an instant, Ge Zheng almost understood the motive behind his assault. The three men were clearly not here to kill him, but to take him to see someone.
"In this martial arts competition, the victory goes to the Third Prince!" The host jumped onto the stage, announcing the result loudly. The audience below erupted in cheers. This overwhelming victory was indeed exhilarating.
"However, the results of the three alchemist's competition will be determined by the three judges," the host added. Everyone looked towards the three alchemists dressed in royal court attire.
The three of them pretended to whisper and discuss for a while. Finally, the eldest one stepped forward as their representative.
"We three unanimously decree that the winner of this alchemist's competition is Master Laurent of the Aga Kingdom!"
For this kind of competition, the audience couldn't make sense of it, so the enthusiasm naturally decreased. Except for Shala and her group, there was hardly any noise.
"Teacher..." Miss Feifei was indignant, about to say something when the Third Prince, who had already arranged his weapons, walked over. Feifei didn't dare to be rude and quickly paid her respects: "Your Highness."
The Third Prince wore a smile as warm as spring and shook hands with Ge Zheng warmly. In the eyes of others, it appeared that the Third Prince was consoling the alchemist he had chosen. However, at the instant the Third Prince shook hands with Ge Zheng, he leaned close to Ge Zhong, whispering, "Ignore those three idiots. If not for the power boost on your gloves, that last strike wouldn't have been able to cripple that waste's arm. I have my eyes on you..."
Ge Zheng was shaken again, and when he looked a short distance away, he saw Biermondo in distress, his left arm uncontrollably convulsing. He felt a wave of guilt.
Shala Aga was accompanied by a group of flatterers and the "victorious" alchemist Laurent. She had originally planned to come and taunt Feifei and the others, but upon seeing the Third Prince standing so close to Ge Zheng, their intimate state took her by surprise. Shala's expression changed, and she immediately recalled her earlier speculations, quickly saying, "Let's go!"
The Third Prince turned and left, but inside he made it clear that he must recruit Ge Zheng into his service as soon as possible. If that was not possible, he was resolved to eliminate him without hesitation. Otherwise, after the finals, if he attracted the attention of other powers, it would not be easy for him to act again. The Third Prince waved his hand around to acknowledge the surrounding people but his smile turned quickly cold as he entered the carriage. "Go!" The coachman flicked the reins, and the carriage swiftly departed.
Biermondo cradled his left arm, hobbling among the crowd, and disappeared into the midst of the chaotic throng, leaving behind an indescribable feeling in everyone's hearts.
"Plap!" A hand patted his shoulder. "Master, what's on your mind?" Ge Zheng turned around and saw Dekumont, wearing a warm smile, standing behind him.
Ge Zheng asked, "What status does Biermondo have today?" "Biermondo," Dekumont said, "he's a pitiful lad. Although he's from the royal family, his branch should have the lowest status within the royal family. They have a distant relationship with the emperor, and it seems that the emperor has forgotten about them for several generations. Families like theirs almost have no economic sources and can't go out to work freely, as it would disgrace the royal family and possibly get them killed in retribution by the major royal families. It's been fortunate for him to own such poor equipment and make it this far."
Dekumont was quite fortunate because his father had once saved the emperor. Even though Emperor Mejif IV was ungrateful, he had granted Dekumont a chance for "substitute inspection" and earned tens of thousands of gold coins.
But people like Biermondo wouldn't have such luck.
Ge Zheng made a silent decision to help him. Setting this matter aside for the time being, Dekumont appeared in good spirits, evidently having finished his match and won.
"How did it go?" Ge Zheng asked with a forced smile. "The tournament today?" Dekumont exclaimed, "I got lucky and drew the weakest opponent among the top sixteen. I won cleanly..."
It was already a cause for celebration to advance from the top sixteen to the top eight. Princess Feifei hosted a banquet at the Seamount Tower to celebrate Dekumont's success. The entire affair had been arranged by Marisa Duke's confidant. With Dekumont's entry into the top eight and a chance to become the champion, even with the presence of the Third Prince, he could at least secure the second place, offering a bright future. Dekumont's political potential value immediately skyrocketed, drawing substantial investment from the Marisa Principality.
A wealthy tycoon from the south directly bought a room on the third floor. The last time Dekumont welcomed Ge Zheng on the first floor cost him five thousand gold coins. Booking a room on the third floor for one night would cost him at least fifteen thousand gold coins.
Furthermore, arranging a position above the third floor usually required some connections, which indicated that the bureaucrat involved had been quite successful in the royal capital and had accumulated some networking.
The food was plentiful, but there wasn't much wine prepared, as Dekumont and Ge Zheng had a match the next day and couldn't afford to drink much.
After the celebration at the Seamount Tower, everyone went their separate ways to prepare for the next day's matches.
Ge Zheng and his entourage squeezed into two carriages, the crisp clatter of horseshoes echoing through the slightly quiet streets of the night, sounding like spring rain on the eaves.
On the other end of the street, two carriages also came slowly, passing by Ge Zheng's carriages. The simple carriages were made of green cloth and purple wood. If one could open the door and peek inside, they would be surprised to find that there probably was no more luxurious carriage in the world than this. Even Emperor Mejif IV wouldn't dare to be as extravagant!
The soft red carpet was made from the rare inner three-finger soft hide of the seventh-grade magical beast Snow Sea Fire Fox from the far north ice fields. This carpet alone probably required hunting many cunning and tricky Snow Sea Fire Foxes to obtain the materials. Even the palace's concubines took pride in owning a Snow Sea Fire Fox fur coat. If there was a coat made from the soft hide of that magical beast, it would certainly be displayed to all the concubines to show off. If any of them saw their precious treasure trampled underfoot by others, their eyes would probably pop out of their sockets.
Using this expensive carpet in the carriages, there was no need for a fireplace to keep warm as the spring mood was pervasive inside. The ladies inside the carriage wore only thin shirts, one rested her jade arm on a small square table carved from mage crystal, and her sleeve draping down to reveal a faintly fair-skinned arm.
The gentle wind softly pulled the juncture between two carriages, sending a carriage gliding down the left road. The other carriage turned right. When they passed each other, the one that went left suddenly stopped, then turned and followed the other down the right road. The king's castle, if seen from above, it was like a huge snake coiling in the center of the royal district, so passing through the main road might not be necessary.
The carriages passed by the casting shadows of the street, heading towards the east end of the city, showing that the two rode high with good spirits, so Ge Zheng and Dekumont and others staying at the inn didn't notice this at all.
Maintaining the intact and frozen surprise expression on Cros's face before dying, Rongchan looked at Cros's eyebrows in the ice, and asked with hatred, "Who did this?"
"..." The old steward also had no answer.
Rongchan took a deep breath, controlling the slight trembling of her shoulders due to anger. She looked at the old steward. These people were all talented in business, but they were clueless about fighting. Even Cros was dead, so they were even less likely to have any means.
"Alright, you all can leave first," Rongchan waved her hand lightly. The old steward breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, lowered his head, and backed out, closing the door to the secret room.
"Bring it out," Rongchan said, extending her hand to little Sa. Sameer walked up, holding something in his hand. "Miss, do you really want to keep this thing on Cros forever? Can you be sure he won't turn himself into a lich?"
"Give it to me!" Rongchan shouted. "I don't care what he turns into, I just need him alive."