Chapter 62 |
Isos calmed himself and carefully sensed his newborn power.
After quite a while, a strand of spiritual consciousness was drawn into his sea of mind—
“Hmm? Isos?”
Alvaro’s consciousness was somewhat puzzled by the situation. How had he suddenly connected with Isos’s spirit?
“Alvaro, I’m the one looking for you,” Kyle’s will resounded.
“My lord?! Why are you here?!” Alvaro’s emotions revealed rare astonishment.
Kyle packaged the entire sequence of events and sent it over to him as well.
“So that’s how it is.”
“My lord, did you seek me out for something?”
“Yes, my lord.”
After listening to Alvaro’s report, Kyle pondered for a moment.
“It seems everything is proceeding fairly smoothly. As for the blood procurement issue, let Elder Irlton make the decision.”
“If he’s willing to take it over, then handle it. If not, let it remain shelved. I don’t have a good solution for the time being.”
“Has there been any movement from the Shadow Guild?”
“My lord, the other branches of the Shadow Guild have shown no particular reaction. The various strongholds around Coral Thorn City have decreased quite a bit. It seems the Shadow Guild does not intend to regain face or escalate the conflict.”
“Mm.”
This situation was roughly as Kyle had anticipated. With a Transcendent-level guild leader dying outright, it was enough to make the higher-ups of the Shadow Guild weigh their options carefully.
Unless a Legendary-level figure was willing to step forward, anyone else who intervened would be useless.
“Any developments regarding the secret realm?”
“My lord, I only discovered that the Empire dispatched several exploration teams. After that, there has been no further news, nor any information about personnel returning from the secret realm.”
“Oh? It seems this secret realm is quite extraordinary. After such a long time, they can’t even send information out from within.”
“Tsk tsk, I’m growing more and more curious about this secret realm.”
“Since there’s nothing else, just continue recording the changes in Coral Thorn City as usual. I still need to remain in slumber. If there’s any issue, have Isos notify me.”
“Yes! My lord!”
Kyle no longer remained within Isos’s sea of mind. He felt that the portion of spiritual space he had painstakingly organized had once again been filled with chaotic streams of information…
Sigh… a headache… a real headache…
***
In the blink of an eye, two days passed.
Inside the gladiatorial arena’s preparation room, Mick circled around the fully armed, imposing and majestic Baruk, a satisfied expression on his face.
Over the past few days, Mick had no longer maintained the necessary social distance. He had conducted a thorough probing of this old bear’s strength. He needed to understand exactly what Baruk was capable of—only then could he better analyze his opponents.
And what he found truly astonished him. Aside from lacking the ability to fly, Baruk had virtually no weaknesses. And even against flying opponents, he had several skills to respond.
Basically, to defeat Baruk, one would have to overpower him in direct strength. Otherwise, it would inevitably become a battle of attrition!
And competing in endurance with a Bearman… tsk tsk… among warriors, there were probably very few who could manage that.
It all depended on how those spellcasters performed.
“Your opponent in the first match is a sword-and-shield knight. He also follows a fierce, head-on combat style. He’ll likely unleash his full strength from the start, aiming for a quick victory.”
“So even if you can’t take him down immediately, don’t rush. The longer the fight drags on, the greater your advantage…”
Mick chattered nonstop like an old nanny. Anyone unaware would think he was the true combat expert.
Baruk did not find it annoying.
Bearmen never disliked a friend’s concern—especially a true friend who had been running around on his behalf.
He simply extended his massive palm and lightly patted Mick’s shoulder.
“Relax, Mick. You’re too nervous. Here, eat a fruit and calm down.”
He picked up a fruit from the platter, nearly the size of Mick’s head, and stuffed it into his arms.
“I’ve fought and killed countless magical beasts. What kind of storms haven’t I seen? Just watch.”
With that, he walked toward the passage leading to the arena, leaving behind only his tall, broad back.
Holding the translucent fruit, Mick was momentarily speechless.
Should he say, “Wait for you to come back”?
Or “Go for it! You’re the best!”?
No matter how he phrased it, it felt strange. He could only watch helplessly as that figure disappeared at the end of the passage.
After a long while, he suddenly snapped back to his senses, clutching the fruit as he rushed toward the spectator stands.
***
In the same VIP box, Dean was intently watching the arena. Over the past two days, he had followed his teacher to watch two or three matches daily, greatly broadening his horizons.
However, Mills had not come again. He had far too many matters to handle each day—especially with the auction about to begin in just a few days. The documents on his desk were nearly burying him alive.
Today, the audience was even more packed than during the first match.
Mainly because other non-human caravans, upon hearing that the old bear had actually entered the competition, were willing to spend heavily for a good seat.
Some who were reluctant to pay instead shamelessly squeezed into the VIP boxes of ‘friends’ with invitations. For instance, the VIP boxes of Elf Elder Ailianna and Dwarf Elder Burlo Warhammer were now filled to capacity.
“What do you think… what rank can that old bear get?”
Burlo held a large mug of Blazing Flame Liquor, speaking somewhat drunkenly.
He had already watched two matches and had not stopped drinking. His tongue was beginning to tangle.
The Ratman Elder Bell stroked his beard lightly. “Hard to say. From the information pried from that old fox, he has a strong chance of breaking into the top ten… though who knows whether he’s really as formidable as he boasts.”
“If that old bear really makes it into the top ten, that old fox will have struck gold!”
The Lizardman Elder Simoni spoke with a sour tone. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to approach Baruk—he simply had never found the right opportunity.
“More than just gold…” Bell revealed another astonishing piece of information. “I heard that old bear… isn’t even seventy yet.”
“What?!”
Burlo sobered up more than halfway in an instant.
“Not even seventy?! That young?!”
He himself was nearly three hundred!
He had assumed the other party was at least around ninety. After all, a high-stage Master under a hundred was already an extraordinary genius. Yet he wasn’t even seventy!
Even though the Bearman clan’s lifespan was similar to humans—short-lived races that rarely exceeded a century—after reaching Master, their lifespan increased to roughly three hundred years.
A high-stage Master under seventy—so long as he didn’t fall prematurely—breaking through to Intent was practically guaranteed!
No wonder that old fox had been circling around the old bear every day. This was a premium prospect!
Damn it! If I had known that bastard was so young, I would have yielded that piece of land. At worst, I could have spent more money to buy one from another faction.
Now look at this—I had needlessly formed a grudge…
Damn! Damn! Damn!
The more Burlo thought about it, the more irritated he became. Fortunately, he had not been the only one to refuse at the time.
At worst, I would just avoid that old bear in the future.
If… if that bastard truly made it into the top ten… I would have no choice but to swallow my pride and find a way to ease relations with the old bear…
Damn it all—how come my clan couldn’t produce a young cub who could fight!
If my own clan had a junior capable of entering the top ten, why would he need to watch others’ expressions!