Chapter 739: Fighting Arena (End)

Jier flicked his cloak again, turning his head to carefully check if his new cloak had been damaged.

Fortunately, the material of this cloak was quite sturdy; even with the force applied during the flick, there was no damage. It was worthy of being the work of a famous craftsman, even if it was only a work from his youth.

The audience in the stands below was wailing, all from dodging the wooden splinters, but their wailing was merely an instinctive reaction. What truly shocked and terrified them was that they had actually encountered a monster in the Fighting Arena attacking humans, especially one that had launched an attack on the VIP box.

However, it shouldn't have succeeded; that was a blessing from the Goddess of Luck.

At this moment, the ones panicking the most were the gamblers who had won. Those who frequented this place had all heard, to some extent, what the fate was for those who dared to resist or cause trouble, whether they were beasts, monsters, or poor wretches who owed a mountain of debt.

There was only one path: death. Even those in the Fighting Arena would be killed, leaving not a single one alive.

But the problem arose: how should this bet be settled then?

These gamblers, who valued money over their lives, brushed the wood shavings off their heads while staring at the VIP box high above, muttering under their breath, their entire bodies trembling slightly with tension: "Have mercy, my lords, have mercy. Let me win just once today."

Up above, the Merchants were panting heavily; some had flushed red faces, while others were paler than wheat flour, but all were genuinely nervous, not wearing faces specially put on to swindle someone today.

Mr. Scott's face was flushed, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Jier, and he laughed out loud: "I knew it, haha, I knew it!"

Jier felt he was very strange, so he straightened the bright feather hat on his head and asked casually: "What did you know? You're so happy, when everyone else just had a scare."

But Mr. Scott just smiled and did not answer, instead going to the side of the pale-faced Mr. Autosfiten, checking with Autosfiten's subordinate to see if he had been frightened into a health issue: "Lipuerde? Are you alright? Is there anything wrong with your body?"

Mr. Autosfiten gripped his dark gold, luxurious belt buckle tightly with both hands, his face pale and his breathing shallow, but he still answered in a low voice: "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just startled. Fortunately, there was Knight Jier, otherwise I would have been hit."

He looked depressed and wanted to reach out to pick up the mask he had dropped in fright, but his hands moved twice without success, still maintaining the instinctive action of gripping the belt buckle from before. For this reason, he muttered under his breath: "That thing was flying straight at me just now; it was truly dangerous. Stop crowding me, let me catch my breath, alright? Friends?"

But his deputy insisted that Mr. Autosfiten at least move behind the VIP armchair to rest, as it was at least safer there.

Beside him, Mr. Bantuolisa had also had his mask knocked off in the fright. He pushed away the Steward Rosa, who was sprawled across his legs with his entire belly, and said irritably: "I don't think that's necessary. After all, Knight Jier is here, and I believe he will protect us. As for now, Aoduo-Luosa! You fellow, go, no, go for us in the name of the Merchant Union, and take men down to slaughter all those livestock used for performance in the Fighting Arena."

His cold eyes stared at Steward Rosa: "Including the beast pens and Jianlao under the Fighting Arena, deal with them all! I don't want to see those things again. Don't open the Fighting Arena for a while; deal with the safety issues of the VIP box first."

Pushed to the ground, then trembling as he rolled and climbed up like a ball, Steward Rosa could only squeeze out one word: "Uh—at your command."

His head was lowered so much it almost defied human anatomy, stretching his neck down toward his crotch, if he could have done so.

Afterward, he tremblingly pointed at two burly thugs who had gathered around, letting one of them go down to call for people to assemble, while the other brought men over to form a human wall in front of the lords, ready to provide protection.

They dared not let any more problems occur.

Mr. 'Flat Aolier' picked up his mask, which had also been knocked off in the fright, and put it back on: "It's better to take everyone down to handle it; those long-haired lynx Beasts are not easy to deal with. As for here, with Knight Jier present, it should be no problem, right?"

The final question was directed at Jier, and Jier shrugged: "Of course."

However, just as Steward Rosa was about to flee with his men, Jier called out to him: "Wait a moment."

As soon as Jier spoke, everyone else looked at him, seeing what he had to say.

This scene was exactly what Jier often heard others say: the principle that even if the powerful speak in a low voice, everyone must bow and listen quietly.

"I don't like Goblins; you only need to deal with those green runts on the field. As for the long-haired lynx Beasts, those furry aliens, hmm, let them live. Consider it a reward for their wonderful performance in this match, how about that? At least, except for the end, I was quite satisfied with what I saw."

Steward Rosa looked at Mr. Bantuolisa in a dilemma. The gray-haired Mr. Bantuolisa said irritably: "Why look at me? Knight Jier has spoken, so just do as he says. Hurry, hurry, hurry! Deal with those Goblins; I don't want to hear the hateful screeching of those things for even a second longer. From now on, don't you dare buy any more Goblins from Hunters for me, you hear?"

"Yes, yes."

Responding with a trembling voice, his eyes full of tears, Steward Rosa tremblingly led his men downstairs. The two burly thugs acting as his deputies were also cautious; the previous arrogant air of Steward Rosa being the boss and them being the second-in-command in the Fighting Arena had vanished completely.

Not to mention them, even their boss, Steward Rosa, felt that his position under his butt would likely be gone soon.

Would he be assigned to the Merchant Guild to be responsible for handling everyone's excrement?

Or would he be made to take his men to risk going to nearby villages that hadn't yet fled to collect grain at a time like this?

Steward Rosa looked desperate.

Stumbling along the Rock Passage while thinking, he felt that managing the daily excrement of the Merchant Guild members in town might be safer?

At least there was no life-threatening danger of being kidnapped by Bandits or having his kidneys cut out.

Although worried about his future job, at least the work had to be done now. Soon, more than a dozen burly thugs holding Iron-wrapped Clubs rushed out of the passages surrounding the audience stands. They shouted loudly, pushing aside the gambling commoners who were blocking the way and demanding explanations for the bet, and pulled out the clubs at their waists with a look of bad luck.

Not only that, all the thugs took out an enhancement component for the Iron-wrapped Club from their lower backs—a metal ring with coarse spikes on the outer rim. As long as one simply slipped this thing onto the Iron-wrapped Club, it was easy to upgrade the weapon in their hands into a temporary Short-handled Spiked Mace.

Using this thing to deal with Goblins was simply overkill.

But the work of the Fighting Arena relied on the strength to achieve military suppression and clear the field at times like this.

Surrounded by thugs, Steward Rosa arrived at the edge of the audience stands. He looked angrily at the culprit of this incident, the corpse of the Goblin leader, and cursed: "It's truly insane. It seems I gave these green-skinned Monsters too good of conditions, fed them too well, raised them too well, *#@#$*, it ruined me!"

He shouted loudly to those around him, not just for the thugs to hear, but also for the commoners watching the scene.

"Everyone has seen the current situation. Ahem, by the order of the Merchant Union and Knight Qiao-Jier, the Goblins in the Fighting Arena, as well as all Goblins within the Fighting Arena area, are to be dealt with."

Immediately, a gambling commoner who wasn't afraid of being beaten for interrupting shouted: "I don't care what you're doing, Master Rosa, how is the outcome of tonight's match calculated? The brothers all bet on the aliens to win!"

Steward Rosa spat: "Pah! Still thinking about your bet?" He waved his hand: "Aliens won; those who won can go collect their money themselves."

He then swung his short arm vigorously, letting his burly thugs go down to do the work: "Remember, only Goblins. The Knight-lord didn't let us kill these long-haired lynx Beasts; don't be too quick with your hands and kill them all."

The thugs all looked miserable, one after another supporting themselves with one hand on the edge of the audience stand, then jumping down one by one.

The height of the wall from the audience stand to the Fighting Arena was three meters, and it wasn't purely vertical. To make it easier for people high up to see the battle below, the wall was specially designed with a certain curve, so the smooth wall made it impossible for the creatures in the Fighting Arena below to climb up, but when the thugs jumped down from above, they could barely slide down.

At this moment, the long-haired lynx Beasts were surrounding the Goblin leader killed by the Hunting Sword. They were, of course, not interested in the corpse; they had come over wanting to obtain this powerful weapon that had fallen from the sky.

As aliens in the mountains and forests, they loved and needed metal weapons very much.

Small, furry palms grabbed the glowing hilt on the shattered face, wanting to exert force to pull it out.

But whether it was one long-haired lynx Beast, or two, or seven of them tied together by their tails at the waist and exerting force together to pull it out—

They couldn't move the weapon even a single bit.

This made the group of long-haired lynx Beasts jump vigorously on the ground, unable to understand what was going on.

Jier watched this scene with a wry smile, extending his palm and opening it downward: "Return! Hunting Sword! Return! Hunting Sword!"

After two calls, the long sword below trembled, and it actually 'pulled' itself out of the shattered Goblin face on its own. The furry little guys cheered, thinking that their behavior just now had moved the god of the aliens.

The result was not so.

The blade of the long sword emitted a bright white light, rising inch by inch. When only the tip remained, the entire sword, contrary to the expectations of the long-haired lynx Beasts, 'jumped' directly from the spot, springing up from the ground, flying three to five meters, and arriving at the edge of the wall, giving the burly thugs who had just jumped down a fright.

Someone wanted to swing their spiked club to hit the Hunting Sword, but the weapon turned nimbly, dodging it, and then with a tap and a leap on the ground, it jumped onto the three-meter-high Fighting Arena wall.

This scene gave the commoner audience clinging to the edge of the stands a fright. Many people hadn't even seen clearly what had killed the Goblin leader just now, but they were certainly feasting their eyes at this moment.

Someone boldly wanted to grab the hilt of the long sword, but the Hunting Sword nimbly hopped and skipped, dodging everyone around it, and arrived beneath the VIP viewing platform.

Jier chuckled and beckoned, and the long sword gave a vigorous "hop," jumping several meters on the spot, and flew directly into Jier's palm.

Mr. Scott leaned over excitedly and said as soon as he opened his mouth, "Jier, your sword is so amazing!"

"It's just a Spirit weapon."

Seeing Mr. Scott's curiosity, Jier casually wiped the blade on the heavy curtain nearby, thoroughly cleaning off the small amount of blood that had stained the sword body under the white light.

The white light on the blade retracted into the Sun God Church Prayer Text on the sword body according to his will, finally revealing the true appearance of the entire long sword.

"Let me see, may I?"

Upon hearing this, Jier handed the weapon to Mr. Scott's palm: "Hold it with two hands, it's very heavy."

Mr. Scott, who had intended to hold the hilt with one hand, immediately switched to supporting it with both, but when the long sword landed in his hands, both palms still sank down quite a bit, almost causing him to lose his footing and fall over directly.

Fortunately, Jier gave it a lift.

"It's so heavy, how could it possibly be wielded with one hand?"

Clang—Mr. Scott still let the sword tip rest on the ground, and other merchants also took the opportunity to crowd around, all curiously looking at Jier's weapon. As for the "disposal" in the Fighting Arena below, no one paid any more attention to it.

The audience, however, watched with great satisfaction, and cheers rose one after another.

Under the gaze of the long-haired lynx Beast who had fled to the side, the burly thugs grabbed the goblins still alive on the ground one by one, as well as the timid goblins leaning against the metal fence at the entrance, and after grabbing them by the neck, they threw them hard onto the ground to the side, then raised the metal-spiked clubs in their hands high and swung them down heavily.

They smashed the skulls of the goblins who were begging for mercy or screaming one by one.

The audience laughed heartily, while Steward Rosa waved his hand in disgust, letting his subordinates in the back open the metal fences on both sides of the Fighting Arena; one side was to let the long-haired lynx Beast exit, and the other was to let the thugs go from the entrance passage to the underground Jianlao to "dispose" of the other goblins who hadn't entered the arena in the same way.

It was estimated that there would be no more goblin fights here in the future; although it was a pity to lose a profitable business, Steward Rosa felt that such things probably had nothing to do with him either, so he felt even more dispirited, found a random place to sit in the audience seats, and no longer went to serve his superiors and big shots; he just sat there, frowning at the messy scene all around.

A commoner with a head injury walked over, asking him for compensation for being hit by the scattered wooden stick fragments, but Steward Rosa turned a deaf ear.

A gambler who had won the bet walked over, saying he wanted to go to the tavern to celebrate with others and invited the generous Master Rosa tonight to join, but Steward Rosa turned a deaf ear.

He just sat there.

Just sitting there, being able to sit for a while longer counted as a while.

He was the Steward here now, but he might not be in the future.

He had to firmly fix the feeling of managing this place and the scene here in his memory.

"Is this a Magic Material Weapon?"

Mr. "Gaunt Aolier" curiously stroked the gray-black sword body lightly, and his fingernails tapped on it, emitting a steady and solid sound.

"Of course."

Jier nodded.

Mr. Autosfiten, who was better off, walked over, squatted down, and said quite knowledgeably: "It looks like it was mixed with several types of natural Magic Material metals on the basis of raw steel. Scott, can you tell which ones were used for the sword body?"

In addition to the business of general metal materials, the Merchant Guild where Scott worked naturally involved the Magic Material business, which had low overall profit but high unit prices and could allow one to climb up to the rulers.

"Of course I can. Jier's sword is relatively simple in terms of materials; it only mixes two common Magic Materials. If I'm not mistaken, it should be the most common Red Copper and Black Iron mixed with refined steel and cast, right? It wasn't even forged. At least I don't see any patterns on the sword body. If it were forged, especially with common folding forging, beautiful and practical patterns would be left between the interlaced metals."

Mr. Scott smiled and leaned on the sword, freeing one hand to touch his chin: "So, it was cast. Only a master Craftsman or the Priests of the God of Forging Church could have such technology."

Jier clapped his hands: "Exactly right. It was a Pastor who was also a Craftsman Priest who helped me remelt and create it."

"Remelt? Oh? It seems there is a story behind it?"

Mr. Bantuolisa was interested in Knight Jier's life experiences and stories, so he signaled that Knight Jier might as well tell them.

So Jier briefly talked about the time he and Knight Kela led troops to attack the Thieves of Luodai Cave.

Of course, in the story, he concealed his identity at the time and simply explained the process and experience of that battle, as well as how he finally dueled with a Bandit Leader in a Shikeng full of living corpses.

Mr. Scott listened to the story with extreme excitement, wishing he could hold Knight Jier's sword and have a battle that would surely be written into poetry.

Although he couldn't even wield Jier's sword; it was too heavy, and without that ability, his wrist might be sprained if he swung it once.

"By the way, what about the white light from just now?"

When everyone asked about this, Mr. Autosfiten, as if trying to regain the face he had lost earlier, carefully rubbed the Sun God Church Prayer Text on the end of the sword body with his hand.

"Is it this? The ability brought by the Blessing Prayer of the Sun God Church. A very rare thing, especially in the last two years, as the Sun God Church has been shrinking its scale and reducing activities."

Jier nodded and asked a question he had been curious about: "Then who knows why the Sun God Church wants to shrink and reduce missionary activities?"

Most of the people present could not answer this question, except for Mr. Lipuerde-Autosfiten. He looked at the crowd in surprise: "No, you don't know?"

Mr. "Gaunt Aolier" smiled apologetically: "We rarely have contact with other churches besides the Church of the God of Wealth, so of course we don't know about this."

Mr. Autosfiten thought about it and realized it was true; merchants were mostly in close contact with the Church of the God of Wealth, so naturally, they had less contact with other churches. Of course, not all; if family members believed in other religions, although the whole family could not believe in one god, which led to less reverence and piety in the eyes of the church, it was also a development direction for Merchant Guilds and individual merchants for the whole family to believe in different gods and establish contact with various churches.

Such news would be much better informed.

Of course, Mr. Autosfiten was not like this; Autosfiten itself was a Noble surname. Although he was not a Noble of the Southern Province, as the unfavored, sickly youngest son in the family, Mr. Lipuerde-Autosfiten still surpassed the vast majority of people in terms of information.

"I heard that their god did something big in the east of the Empire. My brother even heard from a Mage he knows that the climate of our entire world has changed a bit. It was that abnormal rainfall last year; it was like that in many places."

While he was speaking, he even imitated his eldest brother and made an upward gesture, although he didn't quite understand what it meant himself.

Jier had some guesses, but such vague news was only a rough idea.

After the goblins below were cleared, everyone had the intention to leave, and Steward Rosa also announced the end of tonight's fight below, letting the commoners who were the audience leave.

Subsequently, Steward Rosa walked back to the VIP room with heavy steps to serve the big shots as they left.

But to his surprise, until they left, Mr. Bantuolisa did not say to remove him from his position as Steward of the gambling Fighting Arena.

After thinking for a long time, he realized that it was his own act of voluntarily using his body to shield and protect Mr. Bantuolisa when danger appeared that had saved his position for him.

And it was even more than that.

Being able to use one's own safety to protect a superior was, for Mr. Bantuolisa, who was already old, actually very important.

Were there few merchants in Dorn Town who could make money? Not at all, there were even too many.

But those people only wanted to make money, not anything else.

Some things were more important than money, especially for someone like Mr. Bantuolisa who held a high position in the Merchant Guild.