“Fate?” The man snickered. “Okay, another fool who believes some kind of religion. If you all believe your fates and instinct whatsoever, let’s get a ticket and go watch the match.”
The couple went to purchase tickets. So did White Bear. He held his ticket firmly and revealed a determined expression.
“The fate told me that only by stepping on the path of supernatural could I get away from my life of suffering.”
“The fate told me that the path of the supernatural is filled with great challenges until I meet…”
The voice of White Bear disappeared in the distance as he walked away. In the end, it could be heard that he was talking about someone who could change his life.
“That bear guy looks so odd. Could he be a real Prophet?” The couples looked at White Bear’s direction and muttered.
“My six sense told me that he probably is.”
…
The Month of Lingering Rains had given its place to the Month of Wildfire.
Angor’s first match in the Three Levels of Deaths was scheduled on the first day of the Month of Wildfire. If he only considered the order of months, this day should be the Children’s Day on Earth. The wizarding world had nothing special going on on this day. To Angor though, today was special because it was Leon’s birthday.
Leon was his only close relative ever since they lost their parents. Naturally, Angor would remember the birthday of his most beloved brother.
It had been one and a half year since Angor left home. Leon should have inherited his title and was now leading a glorious life in Grue Town. Maybe the war against Heylan Imperials had ended?
And when could he finally return home?
Angor came to the Sky Tower in a mild state of homesickness as he thought about his brother.
He did not really feel any stress. Probably because he already went through a good number of matches. Combined with that fact that the birthday of Leon distracted his thoughts.
It was only when he stood on the stage and realized the audience around were all cheering loudly that he finally collected his spirit.
The glass screen above his head showed the names of the fighters and a countdown timer.
The names were placed aside portraits. Angor’s portrait was there, but it only showed someone covered under his hood.
As for the portrait of “Wasteland Warrior”… Angor did not pay much attention. His opponent was already standing across of him, so he might as well look that way.
“Baron Milk… Unlike the others, I know about you,” said Wasteland Warrior. He was a bulky male who wore a khaki-colored armor. “Surely you know who ‘Battle Horn’ is?”
“Umhmm.” Angor did not know who that was. But he was Baron Milk now, so he needed to pretend.
“He’s my buddy. You beat him before, so I know well about all your skills. Nice alchemy weapon you got there, but it won’t penetrate my defense.”
Angor slowly recognized the name “Battle Horn”. It was a prayer user back in Level 11, who buffed himself with all kinds of spells and attacked his opponents directly.
“I thank you for not killing my friend. Today, I’ll make an exception and let you live,” Wasteland Warrior spoke in a way as if he was giving Angor some honorable gift. “Nevertheless, I still need to imprint terror into your mind for going against me!”
“Baron Milk” remained silent as he maintained his distant and arrogant character’s persona. However, Angor had already begun to complain in his mind: This guy’s talking too much. Wasteland Warrior? How about calling himself the Waste-Word Warrior?
Waste-Word Warrior kept talking nonsense until the countdown reached zero.
Angor immediately cast an ice wall to protect himself, then used the chance to gain more distance while applying various defensive spells on himself.
Waste-Word Warrior, on the other hand, did not move at all. The man thumped his chest confidently.
“Come on, shoot. Right here. I won’t try to dodge!”
Angor could not help smiling: Okay, I was wrong. He deserved to be called a warrior.
The novels in Jon’s tablet were so true. People could actually get THIS stupid!
“Ha! I hope you don’t regret your words,” said Angor as he gave his opponent a big smile. He already planned to use his secret weapon, but now he did not need to.
Angor lifted an arm. While his robe was flipped up by the wind, Wasteland Warrior noticed a golden glimmer coming from Angor’s sleeve.
“So that’s your hand crossbow? It ain’t getting past my shield!” Wasteland Warrior triggered his mana and the blood of Earth Salamander in his body. His already bulky body grew bigger. Blood vessels pulsed on his skin.
“Perhaps one bolt won’t do the trick. But how about ten?” Angor said.
He did not tell his opponent that he was using ten enchanted bolts, not ordinary ones.
Angor took the time to get a good aim at Wasteland Warrior. Since that guy was foolish enough to stand there like a striking dummy, he had enough time to set a plan for where each of his rune bolts was going to.
The three Freeze Bolts would hit the ground to the left in a triangle formation. Even if Wasteland Warrior managed to step left and avoid the bolts, the ice would cause him to fall off the stage. The three Flame Bolts would then go for the right in a straight line, making it impossible for Wasteland Warrior to dodge the fire. Another two armor-piercing bolts were aimed at Wasteland Warrior himself.
Angor carefully calculated the angles for the bolts.
When he was done, he warned Wasteland Warrior, “I’m coming!”
“Do it! Right here! My body’s ready!”
The previously excited spectators all grew quiet at this point. Why did that conversation sound so… terrible?
The innocent Angor did not feel anything wrong about what they just said in public. When he received an answer from Wasteland Warrior, he even nodded at his opponent politely. Next, he held his breath, triggered his mana, and released all ten enchanted bolts at the same time.
Wasteland Warrior intended to terrify this arrogant Baron Milk guy by using the superior defense capacity of an Earth Salamander. However, when he saw the bolts aimed at him, he suddenly received a terrible sense.
Something’s wrong!
Beasts were naturally sensitive to danger. Wizards who fused the blood of beasts also inherited such instinct. Now, Wasteland Warrior only felt as if a giant thundercloud had covered himself up.
No matter which direction he evaded to, the lightning released by the thundercloud would get him!