Chapter 143: What a Grand Spectacle

Usually, with just a glare from Huyan, the mage would be so frightened that his legs turned to jelly, bowing and scraping in obsequious flattery. But this time, though Huyan stared fixedly at Dduoruo with wide eyes, the fellow maintained a resolute expression without the slightest hint of wavering.

After a long while, Huyan let out a sigh: "Fine!"

Dduoruo instantly beamed with joy, bowing deeply to Huyan: "My lord, if I can return successfully from this trip and reclaim the title of mage, I... I will definitely come to serve under you!"

Huyan burst out laughing, looking at Dduoruo: "You rascal, you can't lift with your hands nor carry with your shoulders, you eat more than anyone else and do less work than anyone else—what use would I have for you coming to serve me?" Yet immediately afterward, Huyan stepped forward, pulled Dduoruo into a fierce embrace, and murmured in the mage's ear: "Listen here, you bastard, though I don't think much of you and usually bully and tease you, we've been through a lot together, and you're someone who walked off the battlefield by my side."

Though spoken softly, these words carried a rare sincerity. The mage's hands loosened, the bundle he was carrying dropped to the ground, and a dazed look crossed his face, which gradually gave way to a deep, emerging touch of emotion: "I... well, Huyan, you..."

"Idiot, you're supposed to call me My Lord!" Huyan released Dduoruo and delivered a heavy knock to his forehead. Then he stepped back, narrowing his eyes: "You don't have to leave right now anyway. The deadline for that trial or whatever is a hundred days, and how long has it even been? There's still plenty of time! With your current abilities, that life-curse magic of yours drains your life force every time you use it, so you've never even dared to test it and don't know how powerful or effective it really is. With your current skills—humph, even if you stepped onto the Wildfire Plains, you'd be eaten by magical beasts in less than two days. That Chaotic Realm, the Sea of Forests where the Elves live, I hear is even more dangerous than the Wildfire Plains. If you go there, I'm afraid you'll turn into magical beast dung before you even know it. Well—there's still plenty of time, so don't rush off just yet. These next few days, I'll train you properly and teach you a few tricks, at least some martial arts to protect yourself. Out there, you'll have a few more odds of saving your own life."

Dduoruo's eyes brimmed with grateful tears, while Huyan tilted his head and bellowed at the top of his lungs: "Salba! Cato!!!"

Not long after, hearing Huyan's roar, Salba and Cato came running out from the backyard, bowls in hand. Salba's mouth was greasy with bits of meat still stuffed inside, and he mumbled vaguely: "Damn it, roaring while people are eating, won't you let a man live?!"

Huyan chuckled and shoved Dduoruo forward: "This fellow is going out to do a life-or-death job. These next few days, whenever you have free time, help me train him properly."

Having dumped the mage onto the two cavalrymen-turned-soldiers, Huyan turned and walked back into his room by himself.

He already had a lot on his mind today. Sitting there in the room now, a multitude of thoughts surged within him, until he suddenly couldn't help but ponder a question.

Previously, whether it was General Adelik or that old elf Cavisir... both of them seemed to have mentioned a specific word—conviction!

(Well, General Adelik's conviction is that white-robed Senate... while Dduoruo's conviction is probably being a mage.) (Even a fellow like Dduoruo has his own conviction, so—what on earth is my conviction?)

This was probably the country bumpkin's very first time engaging in such solitary introspection. These solemn and profound questions were occurring to him for the very first time, and the young bumpkin probably still didn't understand what the so-called "conviction" truly was.

However... even Dduoruo, whom he usually looked down upon, had a conviction.

If he himself... lacked a conviction, it would seem... as if something wasn't quite right.

(My conviction... what could it be?)

***

General Adelik's appointment was rejected by the Senate, and news like this quickly spread throughout the capital through the deliberate whispering of interested parties. The consequences of this event were interpreted in three ways: some believed it was the Senate delivering a slap to the Emperor's face; others thought it was the Senate slapping its own face (since Adelik himself was considered a supporter of the Senate faction); while still others wondered if the Senate had finally aligned itself with the warlord factions.

However, while these turbulent rumors swirled around the capital, a piece of gossip drifted out from the palace: it was said that upon hearing that the Senate had rejected Adelik's appointment that very day, the Cavalry Emperor himself not only felt no anger or frustration, but instead burst into hearty laughter. He drank two extra cups of wine during dinner that evening, and in high spirits, spent the night favoring a newly selected, beautiful personal maid...

Shortly thereafter, the appointment was resubmitted by the Emperor to the Council of Nobles, passed on the very same day, and forwarded to the Ministry of Military Affairs, where it took effect immediately.

However, General Adelik himself did not attend the review process at the Council of Nobles. Instead, that very day, he accepted an invitation to visit the Imperial Military Academy, where he delivered a passionate and stirring speech to hundreds of cadets. The renowned and ferocious general held immense prestige among the cadets, and his speech set the young students' blood boiling, creating a massive sensation within the academy. A significant number of graduating cadets immediately altered their graduation preference forms for military enlistment. According to subsequent statistics, half of them changed their top choice to the "Thirteenth Cavalry Corps"—the unit where General Adelik had served the longest.

Others went straight up to General Adelik after the speech to petition him in person, begging to be transferred to his side as bodyguards or adjutants.

It was said that at the time, Adelik swallowed his tears yet had no choice but to refuse every single one of the cadets' requests.

When this news reached the ears of Fatty Rul, the rabbit general was already at home having his servants pack his luggage, preparing to depart for his posting at the Thirteenth Corps. Upon hearing these reports, General Rul reportedly let out a long sigh, suddenly looking dejected and losing all interest. He dismissed his attendants, sat alone in silence for a very long time, and got heavily drunk that night. In his drunken stupor, the fat man drew his saber and carved a line of characters directly into the wall:

"Hot blood burns bright! No doorway to serve the realm!!"

The next day, when the fat man woke up and saw the characters he had carved into the wall with his sword, he laughed out loud a few times and wiped the handwriting away with a wave of his hand.

The fat man didn't even go to say goodbye to Huyan; he simply had someone deliver a letter to the bumpkin, took a retinue of guards, and left the capital to assume his post at the Thirteenth Cavalry Corps.

On that very same day, Green, a senior instructor at the Imperial Military Academy and a former imperial-rank general known widely as the "Mad Dog," officially submitted his resignation to the academy while simultaneously filing a transfer request with the Ministry of Military Affairs.

The wording of that application was unyielding, declaring that if he were not transferred this time, he would rather retire from the military and forfeit his status as a soldier altogether.

The application was delivered to the Ministry of Military Affairs that very day, and by evening, a copy had already appeared on the desk in the study of a tranquil manor located in the southern suburbs of Osgiliath.

An elderly man with white hair held a magnifying glass, his dim, aged eyes carefully scanning the application from start to finish before letting out a long sigh. The back of the old man's hand was lean, with veins bulging beneath the skin, and finally, he sighed once more.

He raised his head to look at the wall. Hanging there on the study wall was a broken sword, with only a third of the blade remaining, its jagged, saw-like fracture still retaining a faint greenish hue...

The old man hesitated for a moment, then finally picked up a pen and wrote his name upon the copy of the application document: Minas.

***

Green's application was met with sneers by certain individuals within the Ministry of Military Affairs, and its original fate would undoubtedly have been to be tossed into some trash bin. Yet at the very last moment, that copy bearing the signature "Minas" was delivered to the ministry, and the final outcome for certain people underwent a change.

That very day, General Green's application was approved.

"Be advised: Imperial Military Academy instructor Green, having failed in his educational duties and misled the youth, is hereby stripped of his position as instructor at the Military Academy. His former military rank is reduced, and he is transferred to serve as a battalion commander in the local garrison flag corps of Mol County! It is hoped that this officer will take this as a warning, thoroughly reform his past misdeeds, perform meritorious service to redeem himself, repay the Empire, and live up to the glory of the Imperial Eagle Banner. Order issued!"

When Green received the transfer order issued by the Ministry of Military Affairs, he didn't even bother reading the nonsense about "failing in educational duties." The moment he saw the phrase "transferred to serve as a battalion commander in the local garrison flag corps of Mol County," he burst into a wild, threefold laugh.

When the laughter ceased, this mad-dog general tore the military ministry's order straight into fragments, tossed them into the trash bin, and raised a middle finger.

"Tch, morons!"

***

With General Adelik promoted to Vice Minister of Military Affairs and immediately dispatched to inspect the Southern Military District, Rul having left the capital, and Green already on his way to Mol County... the bumpkin was left behind in the capital, bitterly waiting for the official appointment documents from the Ministry of Military Affairs. The nobility review process in the Council of Nobles had not yet concluded, leaving the bumpkin quite anxious.

Fortunately, news of his promotion and transfer as the military commander of Mol County had already leaked out. Hearing that he had also been summoned by the Emperor, alongside rumors of his impending peerage circulating from the Council of Nobles, no more petty scoundrels came knocking to cause trouble or harass him.

After all, a lone, helpless bumpkin was easy prey. But once draped in the title of baron combined with the real power of a military commander controlling tens of thousands of troops across an entire county, the bumpkin finally possessed capital of his own. Those petty opportunists dared not provoke him any longer.

Taking advantage of these carefree days of leisure, he finally remembered the companions he had met on the road to the capital and sent men to contact Africat of the Fang of the Wolf Fiftieth Regiment, which naturally drew in Gulu the Landisian as well. After gathering twice and getting thoroughly drunk both times, Huyan dropped a few hints about recruiting them, and Africat readily agreed.

Putting aside Huyan's kindness toward Africat, the bumpkin was about to wield supreme military and political power over a county, becoming a regional lord. Following such a boss would allow one to secure an official post in the future, which was vastly superior to being a nameless wandering swordsman.

Africat quickly announced that he would bring all his brothers from the Fang of the Wolf Fiftieth Regiment to take office alongside Huyan, effectively enlisting under the bumpkin's banner from then on.

As for Gulu, this Landisian intelligence chief was naturally even more ecstatic. On the road, he had already determined that this fellow Huyan was extraordinary, and sure enough, mere days after arriving in the capital, news came of his promotion to county military commander and his ennoblement as a hereditary baron!

Viewed in this light, the Emperor of the Byzantine Empire held this man in extremely high regard. Furthermore, since the bumpkin was not yet twenty years old and already enjoyed such imperial favor, his future prospects were boundless. Such a rising star was naturally worth investing in heavily. Upon returning, Gulu reported to his superiors and secured an expanded budget, determined to spare no expense in befriending this future star of the Byzantine political arena.

Playing to his target's preferences, Gulu pondered for a long time. Figuring that since this fellow had risen through martial exploits, he must naturally hold a martial spirit, sending gold and wealth would only appear vulgar and might not earn his genuine friendship. After deep consideration, Gulu finally prepared a special gift and delivered it personally to Huyan's residence.

This gift was neither gold, silver, jewels, nor dancing beauties, but a bow!

Aside from their naval dominance renowned throughout the world, the Landisians also possessed a unique tradition of longbowmen. Landisians excelled at archery, particularly with longbows. The bow gifted to Huyan was of top-tier quality.

It featured rare white rhinoceros leather wrapped around the bow's grip, a fine steel core, and a bowstring crafted from the sinew of a giant serpent inhabiting the deep ocean, soaked in whale gelatin and aged for three full years before completion. The bowmaker was said to be a renowned master bowyer in the Landisian kingdom who, during his travels across the mainland in his youth, somehow managed to forge a connection with the Dwarf race and learned several techniques of dwarf artisans. Upon returning to Landisi, he became a master bowyer. This bow was crafted in his twilight years, with only three ever made, the other two belonging to famous warriors in the Landisian kingdom.

The bow delivered into Huyan's hands had a body one and a half meters long, nearly reaching the height of a grown man, and bore the name "Howling Tempest." When drawn, the arrows loosed were powerful and piercing, carrying the sound of a raging tsunami slicing through the air!

One could easily see that Gulu had spent a veritable fortune to win Huyan's favor!

Huyan was overjoyed upon receiving the bow. Such a longbow was perfectly suited for someone of his stature and immense strength. Right in front of Gulu, the bumpkin drew the great bow to test it, and the moment he applied force, he felt the contained power within!

Even with the bumpkin's monster-like brute strength, he still had to center his mind and focus his breath just to draw the bow to its full length! With a single test, the bowstring vibrated with a humming sound resembling a fierce gale! Though no arrow was nocked, the sheer kinetic force of the vibrating bowstring caused a sheet of white paper resting on the table before him to split cleanly in two with a crisp *shhh*!

The bumpkin was ecstatic and tested it repeatedly.

Yet the result... despite his immense strength, the bumpkin could only pull the bow to its full draw three times; by the fourth time, his stamina was already waning!

"Fine bow!" Huyan was exceptionally excited. After all, he was young, full of vigor, and loved such formidable weapons most of all. Moreover, this bow was so immensely powerful that even he could only draw it fully three times—clearly an extraordinary treasure!

Watching Huyan test the bow, Gulu wore a strange expression.

After the bow was delivered, his own guards and warriors had curiously tried it out. The captain of his guard already possessed the strength of a mid-tier level four, yet despite exerting all his might and even invoking his battle qi, he still couldn't manage to pull the Howling Tempest to full draw!

Yet watching Huyan casually draw it fully three times without even invoking battle qi... It seemed this fellow truly lived up to his reputation as the powerhouse who had defeated Hastings on the battlefield!

(Gulu didn't know that Huyan couldn't use battle qi at all.)

Suppressing the excitement in his heart, Gulu presented twenty iron-spined armor-piercing arrows, smiling as he said, "Lord Huyan, while these arrows were not crafted by that master bowyer, they were made by skilled artisans within our own Landisian borders. With their triangular arrowheads, their lethality is extraordinary! Weighing three catties each, they are best suited for such powerful longbows. More importantly, these arrowheads are coated with fish oil rendered from a magical fish living in the ocean. After being soaked and subjected to three rounds of fumigation, the medicinal properties have thoroughly penetrated... While not strictly poisonous, it provides a substantial bonus in piercing through magical defenses."

Anti-magic attribute?

Huyan's eyes lit up.

Having delivered the gift, Gulu felt a weight lift from his chest—the value of the Howling Tempest was immeasurable and needn't be mentioned. Meanwhile, these twenty specially crafted iron-spined armor-piercing arrows alone were worth hundreds of gold coins! This lavish gift had practically exhausted Gulu's entire year's budget, demonstrating his willingness to spend a fortune.

Once Huyan obtained the bow, he treated it like a child with a favorite new toy, unable to put it down and even keeping it by his bedside while he slept. His own archery skill wasn't actually very good—having grown up in the wilderness, he had never practiced archery meticulously. But after acquiring this bow, whenever he had free time during the day, he set up a target in the courtyard and tested it a few times. As it turned out, Huyan's archery was indeed quite mediocre; firing test shots from fifty paces away, three or four out of every ten arrows missed the target entirely, and among those that hit, mere numbers managed to strike the bullseye.

Unfortunately, among his companions, Cato and Salba were cavalrymen by trade, skilled in charging horseback tactics, but their archery was merely average. Africat was a proper trained warrior and had some exposure to archery, but he was merely competent and far from proficient; after trying it out, he was only slightly better than Huyan.

"Having a good bow isn't enough; I need to find someone to properly train me in archery, otherwise no matter how good the bow is, missing the target makes it all useless."

Huyan sighed.

Hearing this, Africat's eyes lit up beside him: "Lord Huyan, I do happen to have an idea... The tournament has already opened, and warriors from all over the Empire are currently gathering in the capital, among whom are quite a few archery masters. We might as well go observe the competition; who knows, we might gain something from it."

The tournament?

Huyan slapped his own forehead.

Such a massive and lively event, yet in his recent busyness, he had almost forgotten about it! This was bound to be a grand spectacle! Given Huyan's temperament, how could he possibly miss the chance to observe it properly?

The bumpkin was a man of action who did whatever came to his mind. Without waiting any longer, he immediately dragged Africat out the door and headed toward the vicinity of the arena.

***

The annual Byzantine warrior tournament had already opened, though days remained before the main event; the matches currently underway were merely preliminaries.

Knowing Huyan was unfamiliar with the rules, Africat roughly explained them along the way:

"This tournament is the absolute best path for Byzantine warriors to make a name for themselves. If one can stand out in the competition and win fame and fortune, it's not only about the lucrative prize money, but also the reputation, which greatly benefits martial troupes looking to recruit new members and expand their scale—and if one manages to catch the eye of some noble aristocrat and gets hired at a high salary, one can leap straight into elite society and enter the upper echelons of the Empire... The tournament is held at the beginning of spring every year, but the process has grown increasingly complex. Generally speaking, warriors who achieved decent results in last year's tournament can bypass the preliminaries and register directly for the main tournament stage. However, newly debuted warriors or those whose performance in the previous year's competition was dismal must fight their way through the preliminaries. The rules are generally as follows: after registering for the preliminaries, according to the tournament rules, warriors draw their opponents on the day they register and are scheduled to fight that same day. A victory earns one point, while a defeat deducts one point. The preliminaries last for ten days, and warriors are not limited in the number of times they can participate. At the end of the ten-day preliminaries, individual scores are calculated, and the top one hundred enter the main tournament.

"However, there is another rule: consecutive wins double the score! Winning the first match grants one point on the spot, winning a second consecutive match grants two points on the spot, and winning a third consecutive match grants four points on the spot! The longer the winning streak, the more astonishing the accumulated score becomes!"

At this point, Africat spoke with a hint of pride: "Two years ago, during the preliminaries, I achieved a four-match winning streak, which was considered quite rare at the time. Yet I've heard that throughout past tournaments, only a single person has ever managed to streak all the way from the preliminaries straight through without a single defeat!"

"Eh? Winning streaks..." Huyan frowned and said, "The opponents you mentioned are drawn randomly on the spot. Doesn't that make it somewhat unfair? What if a low-tier warrior happens to draw a high-tier opponent? Wouldn't that be terrible?"

Africat smiled faintly: "That's up to fate! If one lacks sufficient strength, even drawing a lucky matchup and stumbling into the main tournament will only lead to defeat in the end."

Pausing for a moment, he added: "Of course, there are also some incompetent fellows who know they have no hope of achieving results in the main tournament, so they resort to opportunistic tricks, hoping to draw weaker opponents in the preliminaries to rack up a few wins and use the opportunity to gain some fleeting fame. But those people are a minority after all."

"Once you reach the stage of the main tournament, you can't fake it anymore. The main tournament still proceeds via random draws, but each participant is only allowed three losses; after losing three times, they are directly eliminated. And in the main tournament, maintaining a winning streak is exponentially harder!"

Talking as they walked, the two soon arrived at the arena located within the capital!

Looking from afar, at the end of the wide road stood a towering structure over ten meters high, resembling a city wall built from massive piled stones, with banners fluttering in the wind. Sweeping his gaze across the scene, the road was a sea of humanity; pedestrians coming and going all wore various styles of leather armor and plate mail, carrying long blades, broadswords, war hammers, battle axes, and all manner of weaponry.

Beneath that colossal structure, several grand gates stood wide open, with dozens of bare-chested warriors standing guard, yet the milling crowds of traveling warriors still blocked the streets to a standstill!

From afar, a thunderous roar suddenly erupted from behind the arena's stone walls...