Chapter 25. Crushing Defeat.

Stands for spectators

Deacon Gerhard flew over to the elder and bowed slightly before him, waiting to hear his words.

"Gerhard, I know you always care deeply for your novices, and this girl is particularly close to you, but Fargus is the chief overseer right now. It's his call to punish or stop someone. You had no right to interfere, and you know that as well as I do. So, are you ready for the consequences? Do you choose to pay off your punishment with spirit stones or perform a small task for me?" elder Edard inquired.

"Of course, the task, elder," Gerhard replied immediately, without a moment's hesitation. "I'm not in the best position financially right now."

"Excellent. I'm glad we came to an agreement so quickly. I'll inform you about the task later. You may go."

Gerhard bowed even lower to the elder, then returned to his place in the stands, which was somewhat removed from the privileged seats of the elders.

As soon as the deacon left, elder Royden immediately commented sarcastically through his spiritual sense,

"You've got it quite cozy here in the outer sect, Edard. Instead of sending your troublemakers to the House of Law, you collect tributes from them and use them for your own purposes."

"As the head of the outer sect, I have the right to overlook minor transgressions of my subordinates and keep the bloodthirsty enforcers out of my affairs. If not for these small pleasures, why would I bother leading and spending my precious time on children? No one would agree to work here with such dedication as I do, just for the pittance the sect provides," Edard replied with feigned indignation, as if it was completely unclear to him why he needed to explain such obvious things.

The surrounding elders merely rolled their eyes at Edard's response. They had heard his reasoning countless times before. At the mention of "dedication," Byron couldn't help but smile, and by the time Edard mentioned "pittance," all the elders, except Melkor, had grins on their faces.

Nearby, deacons and students, noticing the sudden smiles and laughter of the elders, decided it was not a good omen and wisely distanced themselves.

"Ha, pittance, you say? You receive more than any of us..." Royden began.

"Alright, let's not get into this again," Byron interrupted. They had had this conversation about resources and money many times over their century-long acquaintance, and it never led to anything good. Byron nipped the emerging argument in the bud and then changed the subject to something neutral,

"What task are you planning to give this junior, Edard?"

"Oh, I'll just send him to a spot in the forest to fetch an herb I need for a new pill. It's too dangerous to send disciples that far, but for a deacon at the Core Formation stage, it's a perfect job. I've been pondering for a couple of weeks about whom to send, but every candidate demanded spirit stones or other resources from me for even this small task. I was even considering going myself, but luckily Gerhard didn't disappoint and again picked a fight with Fargus over a trifle. Thanks to this, I don't need to go anywhere; he'll do everything I need."

"You're always so cunning, Edard, skillfully using everyone. Remind me never to play chess or Go with you again..." Royden couldn't resist expressing his opinion.

"Stop fooling around, we're not here for your chats. We need to assess whether the current batch of novices is good enough for the sect master's plan. If not, they won't be worth the resources spent, and it would be better to wait another four years. You should focus all your attention on this," Melkor said irritably, already tired of their off-topic conversations.

"Yes, yes, Melkor, we remember, you've told us this before, so you don't need to repeat it. You can see for yourself that they are quite good, and we won't have to wait several more years for the next opening. By the due time, you will have a group of ten top-quality novices," Edard replied conciliatorily.

While this fascinating discussion was taking place, many decisive and bloody battles occurred in the arena, and it was now Lin's turn to face Rand.

"Saved the best battles for last, Edard, you are in your repertoire," grumbled Royden.

"It pains me that you doubt my honesty and the randomness of the match selections, my friend Royden," Edard feigned offense.

"Bah, Edard, I can't stand listening to you, " said Royden, then turned his attention to the unusually taciturn Byron. "I'm more interested in how your student plans to win when his opponent has such an advantage in firepower. He doesn't seriously think his Bronze Body is invincible, does he? Byron, any guesses on his strategy?"

"I have one, but I won't spoil the intrigue for you. Let's just watch," Byron replied, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After these words, the elders focused on the fight, but they raised their eyebrows in surprise when they heard Rand's announcement, which came just seconds after the match began.

"Your student is quite good, Byron. He lacks that youthful arrogance that makes one try to solve everything head-on with brute force. He's smart enough to use the rules to his advantage. He'll go far," Edard praised the outcome.

"Genius, ha. When I was young, I didn't resort to such pointless tricks. I won all my fights head-on and became the best in my group without any trouble. Ah, those were the good old days," Royden dismissed Rand's tactic, then lost himself in fond memories of his glorious past.

"Yes, yes, our unbeatable Royden. Thanks for the reminder. Now we know for sure that your son, following in your footsteps, won't avoid a fight with Lin, so Oberin was wise. Your boy will tire out little Lin, and then Byron's student will come in, defeat the exhausted little tiger, and easily take first place."

"It's not a given that my Lucius will lose, but even if Oberin wins in the end, what's the point of such a victory? No one will respect you for it, and you can't prove you're better than others or unafraid of challenges."

"The point is in the resources that will aid his future development, Royden. That's why I said he lacks that pointless youthful arrogance, which you still have even after turning two hundred. If you had gotten rid of it in time, who knows? With your talent, you might not be sitting here with us as a regular elder, but you could already be a magister at the Nascent Soul stage."

"Edard... You... " Royden was too outraged to respond immediately.

"Enough already, this is not the place for such talks. I had anticipated this development. Oberin struck me as a smart boy who adapts to circumstances well from our first meeting. Sometimes that's more important than strength. Let's see how he handles himself in the future. If he continues to act wisely, I'll recommend him for the position of expedition leader," Byron declared.

Near the Arena

Rand and Lin left the arena at a leisurely pace. As the former prince was about to return to his place, he heard Lin's voice behind him.

"I'm surprised by your decision. You seemed like someone who always wants to be the best and doesn't want to yield to anyone." These were Lin's first words to Rand since they met.

Turning around, Rand looked at him, this dark-haired, short guy with blazing eyes, while pondering what to reply. Should he tell the truth or give a meaningless answer?

"Victories and defeats aren't that important as long as you keep moving toward your goal," Rand decided to be honest for some reason, not hiding his intentions.

Rand's words made Lin think for a moment before responding:

"I see. I understand your plan. No matter who takes first place now, they'll have to fight you to keep it. Too bad I didn't think of such a strategy. Sometimes, believing too much in your victory makes you overlook important details. I'll try to consider this in the future. Thank you."

Thanking Rand, Lin didn't wait for his reaction and quickly walked back to his place.

"Interesting guy. He seems pretty smart. But the way he talks and thinks doesn't match an ordinary resident of a border village, as the records say. Another boy with secrets."

While this brief conversation between the two young men was taking place, a true battle was unfolding in the arena. Before this match began, most thought that the elder's son was the undisputed favorite and that the fight would end quickly. After all, Lucius had already reached the second level of Qi Condensation and was almost the best in the group in the combat art of the Dancing Dragon, whereas Eyron, though possessing the gift of Great Strength, did not stand out much otherwise.

But the expectations of the majority were deceived, and the fight did not end quickly. From the first seconds, Lucius tried to overwhelm his opponent with a barrage of blows, constantly changing the angles of attack, maximizing his speed advantage. But, to his surprise, the giant Eyron easily parried any attack. The seemingly clumsy two-meter mountain of muscle that was Eyron moved with incredible ease and grace. Eyron also employed some unknown martial art at a very high level of mastery, which specialized in short, sharp, and fast movements, which were very different from the flowing and extended movements of the Dancing Dragon.

Though Lucius significantly surpassed Eyron in the speed of his movements, it did not bring him much benefit. Eyron seemed to predict his every move in advance and began to react even before Lucius was ready to strike. Lucius's speed was literally suppressed by Eyron's superior skill. No matter what tricks and traps the elder's son tried to use, nothing worked; Eyron did not fall for any of them. And since speed didn't help, Lucius hoped to rely on the strength granted by his cultivation, but here Eyron surpassed him. The strength boost he received from the second level was entirely insufficient to compete with Eyron's gift.

Lucius desperately attacked at close range, hoping to prevent his opponent from using his strength and reach advantage while frantically trying to devise a plan to win without using his trump card. Lost in these thoughts, he didn't notice the devastating punch aimed at his solar plexus.

Boom!

The force of Eyron's fist was so great that the twelve-year-old boy was literally thrown back ten meters. Struggling to land on both feet without falling, Lucius bent over for a second and vomited the remaining contents of his stomach.

"You cunning bastard, " Lucius said, panting and finishing emptying his stomach. "You pretended to be clumsy and sluggish all this time, but you're actually this good."

"Deception has always been an essential part of strategy. If you can deceive your opponent, half the battle is already won. This is what the emperor who founded our empire said, and I agree with him," Eyron replied, slowly approaching Lucius.

"Deception, huh? Deception is only for the weak, while a person with true strength has no need for lies. I wanted to save this trump card for Lin, or at worst for Oberin, but I'll let you witness the power of my gift, the Purple Blood, first. "

Suddenly, pulsating veins emerged all over Lucius's body, quickly taking on a violet hue. Soon, his entire body began to glow with a purple tint. Eyron did not want to give his opponent any time for anything. As soon as Lucius started to transform, the giant charged at him at full speed.

"Too late, my transformation is very quick. You missed your chance. Now, with the amount of Qi in my body, I am equal to someone at the third level of Qi Condensation."

Eyron ignored his opponent's words, reaching him and locking Lucius in an iron grip with his powerful arms. Lucius didn't even consider dodging.

"Useless," the elder's son said, easily prying apart Eyron's constricting arms. "Trying to crush me to death? That tactic might have worked earlier, but now…"

Before he could finish, the strength in Eyron 's arms seemed to double, and the giant's grip tightened again like a vice. Lucius immediately summoned all his might, equivalent to that of a practitioner at the third level. He even growled with effort, knowing that if he could break free for just a second, his enhanced speed after transformation would ensure his victory. And when it already began to seem that he was succeeding, Eyron suddenly began to grow in size, transforming from a two-meter giant into a two-and-a-half-meter behemoth filled with muscles. The slightly loosened grip of the giant tightened around Lucius once more.

At that moment, the elder's son truly panicked. He started trying to headbutt his opponent, kick his legs, but all was in vain.

"Impossible, where do you get such strength… Ahh, I can't breathe…" Lucius whispered.

"Surrender," Eyron suggested.

"No…"

"Then I have no choice."

Eyron began squeezing even harder. Lucius's body creaked, his eyes bulged slightly from their sockets, and his breathing turned into a wheezing rasp.

"Surrender," Eyron repeated.

But Lucius could only slightly shake his head, unable to do more.

At that moment, a loud voice, like a clap of thunder, resounded over the arena.

"Enough. He has lost, release my son," ordered Elder Royden.