Chapter 414: The Earth Remembers [Part 1]

No.

No!

NO!

Hagen shouted desperately in his heart as he watched Zorren’s lifeless body collapse to the ground.

But, just as he desperately thought that he was only dreaming, Jason raised his right foot, and crushed the Fenrirkin’s head, turning it into meat paste.

This brutal scene was met with absolute silence.

Even Tianna felt like tearing up. This was her first time seeing this side of Jason, so she didn’t know what to think.

’Impossible!’ Hagen clenched his fists so tightly that his nails wounded his palm bloody. ’There’s no way Zorren would lose to that weakling!’

Hagen was right.

Zorren would have won against Jason had he fought against the version of the young man who had just revived after the war with the Monster King.

At that stage, even Leone’s armor and accessories wouldn’t flip the odds into Jason’s favor.

Why?

Because his vassal was too honorable.

The him then would never stoop down to the level of a scumbag, even if it meant losing his life.

But that version of Jason was long gone.

The Jason now had been changed by the countless wars he fought in his dreams.

Wars where honor didn’t matter more than lives.

In that dream world, Jason fought tooth and nail using any means. No matter how underhanded, no matter how vile, no matter how dirty, he would use it if it meant surviving for mere seconds longer.

So, when Leone ordered him to crush that thing, he didn’t think twice and crushed it completely.

He fought with the intention to win and annihilate the person who had openly declared his intention to defile the two people whom he held sacred in his heart.

That bastard didn’t even deserve to carry the shoes of Tianna and Leone, yet he dared to think about violating the oracle of the Warclaw Tribe and trampling his Great Chieftain’s honor and dignity.

Both were unforgivable sins.

Jason deemed Zorren guilty, so he decided the latter’s punishment.

Death.

A very painful death that made the arrogant warrior understand that even he wasn’t exempted from pain and suffering.

Understand that he wasn’t exempted from fear and despair.

Understand that he wasn’t exempted from death!

Marcus and Elias looked at their father with grim expressions on their faces. When Zorren’s match with Jason first started, both of them anticipated a bloodbath. A brutal fight.

But regardless of how the battle would go, they had firmly believed that Zorren would be the one who would come out as the winner.

Now, they know they were wrong.

The one whom they expected to emerge as the champion and bring glory to the Grimhowl Tribe was now dead.

With his heart crushed, and head smashed.

No one, not even Jafar, could bring someone who had become meat paste back to life.

While the Grimhowl Tribe soaked in defeat, others celebrated the winner’s victory.

The Aslan Tribe and the Grimfang Tribe both cheered, applauding the young man who had beaten the arrogant warrior who believed he was supreme.

Jason undid his transformation and bowed respectfully toward his Great Chieftain, who gave him a nod of acknowledgment in return.

"Well done," Leone said.

Jason then raised his head to look at Tianna, whose hands were still covering her lips while looking at Jason sadly.

They stared at each other for no more than four seconds before Jason walked away from the arena.

Gundar ordered the warriors of the Grimhowl Tribe to take away Zorren’s headless corpse. The least they could do was give him a proper burial after the tournament.

The shaman then waved his hands, summoning the power of wind to blow away the remnants of flesh that remained inside the arena.

As for the blood that had already dyed the ground black, there was nothing he could do about it.

"Next contestants, enter the arena!" Gundar ordered.

Tristan took a deep breath before heading to the arena. A part of him was relieved, but the other part was disappointed.

Relieved that the bastard that looked at their oracle with a lustful and vile gaze was dead.

Disappointed that he hadn’t been the one to end Zorren’s life.

And as he gazed at his opponent in front of him, Tristan heaved another deep sigh.

"Hey, just concede," Tristan said to Byron. "I don’t want to waste my time dealing with you."

"Why would I concede?" Byron asked, scratching his head. "I’m a representative too, you know?"

"Because I don’t want my fight to look like a joke," Tristan stated. "Also, you don’t belong here. Only warriors have the right to stand here. You’re not a warrior."

"Well, you’re not wrong." Byron lightly rubbed his belly. "I am indeed not a warrior."

"Then just surrender. Otherwise, I’ll make sure to beat you up."

"If you’re going to beat me up, can you make it quick? I don’t really like pain, so knock me unconscious as soon as possible."

Tristan clicked his tongue and took a fighting stance. "As you wish. I’ll end this as fast as possible."

"You have my thanks!" Byron pressed his hands together and bowed politely towards Tristan. "We can start the fight now, Lord Gundar."

The great shaman glanced at Tristan in response, to which the latter nodded his head.

"Fight!" Gundar shouted.

As soon as the signal to fight started, two pairs of wings unfurled behind Tristan’s back. With a single flap of those roc-like wings, the warrior of the Warclaw Tribe shot towards Byron like an arrow.

Unlike his first battle, Byron didn’t run away.

He simply stood in place, even closing his eyes as if accepting his fate.

But, just when Tristan was only two meters away from his opponent, a shadow blocked out the light of the sun.

A second later, the young warrior’s entire body crashed onto the ground of the arena.

Tristan coughed out a mouthful of blood. He forced himself to raise his head to look at his opponent, who was still standing before him.

He had no idea what had happened earlier and why he was on the ground right now.

But as he stared at Byron’s body, he noticed something.

The chubby young man’s arm was now covered in black fur. It had swollen to an absurd size, its thickness comparable to the trunk of a massive tree.

Since he was pinned to the ground, he didn’t see that a giant black paw had pressed over his back, exerting pressure that prevented Tristan from standing up.

"What you said earlier is right," Byron said calmly. "I am no warrior. I am a pig that eats the tiger. But in this case, a pig that eats the mighty bird?"

"D-Don’t mock me!" Tristan roared in anger.

He then tried to prop himself up from the ground, using brute strength to free himself from the big paw holding him in place.

"Sorry, but it would be best if you keep lying on the ground." Byron smiled faintly.

A moment later, Tristan’s body was forced down to the ground once again, making blood seep out from the corner of his lips.

"Surrender now," Byron said. "I don’t want to hurt you."

"Never!"

"Hah..."

Byron sighed before shaking his head helplessly.

The lion’s claws remained retracted as its paw pressed firmly against Tristan’s body. He had deliberately kept them hidden, giving Tristan every chance to surrender.

But after seeing that his opponent still refused to yield...

"Arghhh!" Tristan cried out in pain as something sharp pierced his body.

The claws that had remained retracted moments ago had suddenly extended, piercing through his clothes and sinking into his flesh.

"Ugh!"

Tristan gritted his teeth as blood began to seep from the wounds.

Byron looked down at him with a calm expression. "I told you to surrender."

The lion’s claws dug deeper, drawing blood. However, he made sure that his claws wouldn’t hit Tristan’s vital areas, preserving his life.

Tristan’s body trembled from the pain, but he stubbornly refused to give in.

"I will never surrender!" Tristan shouted. "I will protect Lady Tianna!"

Byron ignored the warrior’s declaration. Instead, he stared directly at the Chieftain of the Warclaw Tribe.

"Should I continue this fight?" Byron asked.

Godwin heaved a deep sigh before shaking his head. "This is your win. Please release Tristan."

The Chieftain of the Warclaw Tribe understood that Byron was being merciful. If he wished for it, he could have already crushed or tore up Tristan’s body, and the latter would be powerless to do anything to stop him.