Chapter 363: Two Wins out of Three

"You dare threaten me?!" Kolzim let out a cold laugh. The powerful Centaur turned to Aron beside him. "Chief Judge, how dare they refuse your demands! To think they’d shelter the apostate you’re looking for!"

"Just give the order, and we’ll lead the charge! We’ll crush them utterly!"

In Kolzim’s mind, the Priests from the Molten Iron Religious Order would never swallow such an insult. They would surely demand a true showdown with Ron and his people. In fact, the Centaur could see the soldiers behind the Chief Judge spoiling for a fight, just waiting for their commander’s order.

But when Aron looked at him, Kolzim noticed a restrained look in the stern Judge’s eyes, an expression he couldn’t quite understand.

"Last time was just a spar. If you want to go all out, I’ll be happy to oblige." Ron had also noticed the agitation among the soldiers behind Aron. ’These men probably deal with local bandits and monsters often,’ he thought. ’It’s even possible some are veterans who, like Aron, have come face-to-face with demons. They’re certainly no pushovers. But if a real fight breaks out...’

Ron glanced at Jilannis beside him. The Grand Mage remained still with her eyes lowered, but the lion head on her shoulder let out a series of low growls.

"Lord, I bear you no ill will..." Aron gritted his teeth. "But if you continue to obstruct our official duties, then I will have no choice but to prepare for battle!"

"At this point, you’re still trying to play the good guys?!" Zandia couldn’t hold back any longer. She pointed her brass short spear at the cold, stiff Centaur corpse on the ground. "You’re nothing but a pack of cowards who prey on the weak and fear the strong! Your so-called ’order’ and ’rules’? They’re just a fig leaf to cover your shame!"

"Did you talk about ’order’ when you were slaughtering my people?!"

"Chieftain Zandia! We have issued you more than five warnings on our journey here!" Aron said coldly. "That is far beyond the prescribed number!"

"So what? You want me to surrender without a fight? To be captured by you and this traitor?! To throw away my future and the future of my people?" Zandia shot back angrily. "Lord Ron, you be the judge. Is this what they call ’order’?!"

"I’m sorry, Zandia." Hearing her question, Ron shook his head slightly. "As Centaurs, you may not be able to understand, but ’order’ is sometimes just like that."

"Thank you for your understanding, my lord." Raymond Aron breathed a sigh of relief. He was about to urge his warhorse forward when he saw Ron raise his bow.

"But different places have different kinds of ’order,’ Chief Judge. Here, the ’rule’ is that you are to leave my territory immediately and not enter again without permission. I will not give a third warning."

"Chief Judge, why are we still arguing with this rabble? Let’s just crush them!" The moment Ron spoke, the other Priests from the Molten Iron Barrier bristled. One man, eager for a fight, started forward to challenge Ron.

"Wait, Lord Ron!" Just as Ron was about to put an arrow through the loudmouth’s skull, Aron quickly interrupted his Casting. "My lord, we did not come here to wage war. Perhaps we can resolve this dispute another way?"

"To put it bluntly, you know you can’t win," Sera said. "Isn’t that the truth!" Zandia added. The two rekindled the camaraderie they’d forged while defending New Green Swamp Town, chiming in one after the other.

Aron choked on their words and coughed, but he persisted with his suggestion. "We don’t need to escalate this conflict! How about we settle this with a series of three duels? Best two out of three, to avoid any bad blood."

"I’m not sure what ’bad blood’ we need to avoid with a group that trespassed on my land for no reason," Ron snorted, though he did lower his bow. "But if that’s what you want... I don’t mind playing along."

"Who’s up first for your side?"

"Chief Judge, I’ll go!" The Priest who had been shouting the loudest immediately jumped forward. He stared daggers at Ron. "You’re the Lord here? I’ll take you on!"

Ron didn’t move. He even put his bow away.

"What’s the meaning of this?!" the Priest’s eyes went wide. "Are you scared?!"

"As a Priest, you are not qualified to directly challenge a Lord," Aron said, having understood Ron’s silent message. He reminded his colleague, "Choose someone else. Regardless of the circumstances, the authority of the ruler here must be respected."

"Hmph, such a stickler for rules," Sera sneered. She kicked up a layer of snow with her Grip of the Vast Wave, and the thud it made on the ground caused the Priest’s heart to skip a beat. "Come on. Let me see how you measure up to your precious Judge!"

Sera’s posture wasn’t particularly flashy, but the mere presence of the barbarian was enough to instill a chilling fear. The moment he faced her, the Priest felt as though he were confronting a mammoth or some other terrifying beast, not a human being.

"You... state your name!" The Priest, completely unaware that his teeth were chattering, raised his spear. He summoned every ounce of his courage to face the scantily clad woman. "I am—"

"I don’t have time for your nonsense!" Sera let out a savage grin, the chaotic thrill of combat flooding her mind. With a wild roar, the snow around her feet melted from the sheer heat of her fury. Her Grip of the Vast Wave, imbued with the bone-chilling essence of winter and its wielder’s endless rage, swung at the Priest’s waist, giving him no chance to prepare.

Sera’s roar and the Priest’s shriek echoed across the snow. The shriek quickly devolved into pathetic cries for mercy.

Aron watched the one-sided battle with cold indifference. This colleague had been his deputy after he was "promoted" to a rear-line post—a transfer that was, in reality, a demotion. As a local bigwig, the man had caused Aron no small amount of trouble. Raymond Aron was more than happy to watch him make a fool of himself, especially since he had so eagerly volunteered.

"Help! Chief Judge, save me!" With the sharp CRACK of a wooden shaft breaking, the Priest tumbled into the snow. He flopped desperately toward Aron’s horse like a fish out of water, wishing he had two extra legs like a Centaur. "My lord! Save me!"

Aron could accept his subordinate’s defeat, but allowing him to be killed was another matter entirely. Just as Sera rushed forward, about to shatter the Priest’s spine with her blade, Aron drew his own sword to stop the enraged barbarian. "Miss Sera, he has surrendered. You’ve won this match."

"Tch, I don’t accept that kind of victory!" Sera spat on the ground and stepped back. "Fine! Since he surrendered, switch him out! Who’s next up for a beating?!"