Chapter 495 325: Chastity and Goddess's Blessing (Part 2)

The stakes, however, pushed the excitement for the duel to a fever pitch. On the line were the fates of three Earl's Domains, a Legendary Magic Weapon, a Mage Soul Crystal, and, unimaginably, a Mermaid and a Giant Dragon.

Put together, these items were valuable enough to easily purchase an entire duchy.

Any intelligent person knew this duel was an opportunity not just to win the prize, but also to make a name for themselves.

And so, news of the duel began to spread throughout Gonda City.

The duel was to be held in Gonda's largest gladiatorial arena—the Saint Demin Arena.

It seemed rather ironic for such a bloody and barbaric place of entertainment to have such a name. But this was because a Legendary Holy Hall Knight had once been a fighter in this very arena. In his honor, the beast fighting arena was later renamed.

All the powerful nobles were scrambling to get in, hoping to witness this once-in-a-millennium duel firsthand, while the common folk could only look on from the outside.

...

The use of Super Position Magic Items was forbidden. The format was a series of one-on-one duels. Winners would advance, while losers were eliminated. There was no second place in this competition—only one victor, and the winner would take all!

In other words, if someone was strong enough to win six matches in a row, they could achieve a clean sweep and claim the ultimate victory.

But to everyone, this seemed nearly impossible. Not a single participant in this duel was a pushover; all of them were renowned powerhouses.

Thus, strategies revolved around tactical matchups, much like in horse racing.

Inside a luxurious room in a Debei royal palace, a crowd of nobles had gathered along with Debei's three chosen participants.

The other two participants were the familiar Mandela and a white-haired old man in his fifties.

According to Filo, this man was Gonda's greatest master of Swordsmanship. He had once taught His Majesty the King, and nearly every notable powerhouse in Debei had studied under him. At first, the Lord was impressed, though he couldn't quite see why. But after watching the man demonstrate a Sword Skill, Levi, with his own max-level "720" One-Handed Proficiency, felt, 'He's just okay.'

Mandela, his bald head gleaming, paced around the room. His forehead was slick with sweat, and his palms were so clammy they could probably pick up flour.

His anxiety was palpable. If the duel only concerned one of Debei's Earl's Domains and five hundred Griffins, he wouldn't be this agitated.

The problem was that a certain someone had actually thrown the Giant Dragon into the pot. If they lost, his entire life would be ruined.

He had already assumed that the Lord and his own niece were having a thing, so naturally, he was the one in the room who most desperately wanted the Lord of High Cliff Castle to win.

"Worri," Levi said with a sigh. "Can't you sit still for a second? You're making me dizzy. And how many times has your big bald head reflected the sun and blinded me? You tell me."

Mandela rubbed his bald head. "Aren't you even a little bit nervous, kid?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Look at Master Silio. He's not nervous," Levi said with a look of disdain. "And you call yourself a general, the commander of the Red Swordsmen Corps."

Silio was a rather frail-looking old man, seemingly unremarkable, but he was a genuine Epic Level Combat Qi Master whose Swordsmanship had already reached the Transformation Realm.

Upon hearing this, Silio gave an awkward smile. 'Could I really tell them I'm too nervous to even speak?'

This duel involved so much territory, not to mention a Giant Dragon and a Mermaid. Even Emperor Arthur, said to have faced an army of a hundred thousand without batting an eye, would be unable to remain composed if he were reborn. So how could he?

Mandela looked at the Lord, his face filled with nothing but admiration.

And it was no wonder—at that very moment, Levi was reclining on a wide mahogany lounge chair while half a dozen nobles stood behind him, all smiles.

"Levi, everyone knows we're counting on you for this duel," Old Duke Gray said, grasping the Lord's hand, his face breaking into a brilliant, wrinkled smile.

Four other Counts were massaging the Lord's shoulders, while a Marquis was busy learning how to brew tea for him.

Mandela and Silio remained silent, because they, too, felt that Gray was right.

While the other two participants from Talisi could be considered ordinary experts, Rillo was definitely an expert of the Super Position. The power of the Pope's designated successor was beyond question.

Mandela and Silio knew very well that they were no match for this top-tier Mage. After all, when comparing those of the same level, a Mage could effortlessly toy with a Warrior!

This was a fact acknowledged across the entire Middle Ages Continent.

If Debei had any hope of victory, it rested solely on the shoulders of the Lion Hunter Knight before them.

His past achievements were simply too remarkable, and all of them were a matter of public record.

According to Old Gray's plan, Mandela and Silio should go first to wear down their opponents. Levi was supposed to conserve his strength and fight last, as their anchor.

However, a certain someone was as stubborn as a mule. While cursing inwardly, Gray had no choice but to reluctantly agree to Levi's demand to act as the Vanguard General.

"Levi," Old Duke Gray said, "His Majesty says that if we win this duel, besides the two Earl's Domains and Lake Beier, the Sai Dai Golden Man and the Mage Soul Crystal are yours. His Majesty figures you probably don't want the three territories anyway."

Although the Lord of High Cliff Castle had instigated the duel, it was Harland who had ultimately agreed to it. The King felt it was unnecessary to lay all the responsibility at the Lord's feet, and so decided to give him a portion of the winnings.

As for Old Gray, if they won, all of this was a pure windfall. As long as Lake Beier returned to the Western Territory, it would be a grand cause for celebration. Naturally, he was all smiles toward the Lord.

"Alright." Levi waved his hand. He truly wasn't interested in the three territories; they were simply too far from High Cliff Castle to be managed effectively.

'Besides, I never expected any of these rewards anyway. Harland was the one who made the bet, it had nothing to do with me.' But now that there was an unexpected bonus, he certainly wasn't going to turn it down.

Talisi's lineup was clear. Besides their two Cardinals, the Archbishop—considered their most formidable opponent—was placed in the middle of their roster.

The Holy Sith Kingdom's lineup, however, was somewhat surprising: all of its contestants were Fasting Demon Statues.

Naturally, the Talisi faction also learned of Debei's participants and their fighting order. Rillo could only sneer, scoffing at the Lord of High Cliff Castle's audacity. 'He truly doesn't know his own limits, daring to go first.'

'At the very least, the other two participating Bishops are Epic Level Mages. They should be able to drain some of his stamina.'

'When he finally faces me at my peak, what advantage could he possibly have left?'

The large contingents from all three factions proceeded in a grand procession toward the Saint Demin's Great Arena in the heart of Gonda City.

The arena covered a vast area and could easily hold several hundred thousand spectators. It was a classic open-air, circular coliseum with a massive platform at its center, constructed entirely from marble as white as jade. The tall statues of ancient gods and the numerous archways carved with intricate patterns spoke of the arena's former prosperity.

The preparation time Harland had mentioned was mostly spent reinforcing the dueling grounds. After all, a battle between a group of powerhouses—the weakest of whom were Epic Level—could be described as cataclysmic without exaggeration.

His Majesty had summoned a dozen or so Palace Mages, under the command of their leader, to collectively reinforce the arena with Magic.

The chief mage later confidently proclaimed that even Legendary Powerhouses would find it difficult to shatter the reinforced arena.

The arena floor was paved with perfectly uniform blocks cut from a unique type of steel-rock. The surface was engraved with ancient, primitive patterns depicting humans in animal skins, hunting fierce beasts with Wooden Spears.

It was said these patterns could stir the most primitive desires within humans, making the Fighters all the more valiant in combat.

And the Lord, hands in his pockets, happened to be standing directly over the carving of a man stabbing an unknown beast to death.